Not breathing, she said. Any fool can breathe.
Living.
I had kept the lesser half of that promise. The greater had proved harder.
For two winters I had risen, eaten, judged quarrels, mended fences, buried the dead, and done every duty expected of me.
I had breathed, and yet I had mistaken it for living because no one dared tell me otherwise. Then a strange woman walked out of my forest. She argued, spoke of walking willingly into fire, and stood in my meeting house asking questions no one else had thought to ask.
I looked at the mark she had drawn in the earth. Our plan was not foolish. We had survived raids before, had hidden grain, moved animals, sent the weak into the woods, and fought men who came to steal, but the Normans were not raiders.
They had brought horses. Food. Armor. An army meant to stay.
Darcy understood that from one look at the shore. And where I saw roads, fighters, and ground, she saw the child who might vanish from a group. The mother who might turn back, one dead guide, a blocked path.
Another way to reckon survival. Not by the count of enemies killed. By the number of our own who lived. I had been taughtall my life that a lord stood. My father died standing. His father before him.
The men of Ashford had stood and fought until there were too few left to stand. Songs called that courage. Songs were written by men who did not have to tell a mother why her son would not come home.
“Enough,” I said.
Darcy rose as wariness returned to her face. She expected refusal. Perhaps chains. I found I disliked both thoughts.
“The children and the old will move as planned.”
Leofric nodded once. Darcy did not as I continued.
“But before they go, every group will have a leader and another who knows the path.”
Godwin’s brows rose.
“We count them before they leave,” I said. “We count them when they arrive.”
Darcy’s shoulders loosened a fraction.
“If the first path is blocked, they must know the second.”
“Aye.”
“And signals?” She said.
I looked at her as she lifted both hands.
“Sorry. I thought we were having a moment.”
A laugh escaped Wystan.
“We will decide the signals,” I said.
Darcy nodded. “Good.”
Leofric stepped forward.
“You take counsel from her?”
“I take counsel from anyone who speaks sense.”
His face darkened.
