“Aye,” he said softly. “I mean you. I loved you very much, Uncle Morgan. I still do. Although you do not remember me, or your family, you were very loved. We are very happy to know you did not die those years ago.”
John Morgan sighed with confusion. He kept looking at his missing finger, struggling to recall those years that had vanished from his mind. He didn’t seem as uncomfortable or stiff as he had earlier.
“That old man,” he said after a moment. “That man who attacked me. He is my father?”
Rod nodded slowly. “He is,” he said quietly. “He did not attack you. He was happy to see you and was trying to hug you. He did not know that you did not remember him.”
John Morgan was still staring at his hand, evidently pondering the information. “I do not know him.”
“His name is Berwyn.”
John Morgan looked up from his hand, his brilliant blue-eyed gaze roaming the land. He seemed to grow thoughtful, as if his damaged mind was working on something. He scratched his chin, his lips moving as if to bring forth words he couldn’t quite grasp. When he finally spoke, Rod barely heard him.
“Fair flower,” he muttered.
Rod was stunned. “Fair flower,” he repeated softly. “Blodwyn.That was your mother’s name. Why did you say that, Uncle Morgan? Do you remember her?”
John Morgan shook his head unsteadily, still looking over the landscape. He pointed to a patch of yellow flowers by the road. “Fair flower,” he said again.
Rod turned around and frantically motioned to Berwyn, who was riding several feet behind them. Berwyn looked as if he had aged fifty years in the past two days, distraught over a son returned from the dead who did not remember him. But he dutifully spurred his charger forward, looking at Rod with as much curiosity as he could muster. Rod whispered to his grandfather as the man grew near.
“He saidfair flower,” he muttered. “That was grandmother’s name, Blodwyn.”
Berwyn looked at his son, brow furrowed, but John Morgan was staring at the flowers at the side of the road, seemingly in a world of his own. When Berwyn saw what he was looking at, it sparked a memory in him from long ago, something that his beloved wife used to say to their children. A child’s rhyme that he pulled from deep in his mind.
“Fair flower, fair flower, you greet me each day,” he said, loud enough so that John Morgan could hear him. “Fair flower, fair flower, do not go away. Fair flower, fair flower, your beauty won’t fade. The sun from above is your soft fairy maid.”
Rod had heard that rhyme from his grandmother once, too, but he hadn’t made the connection when John Morgan had mentioned fair flower. He had only thought of his grandmother’s name and its meaning. But the moment Berwyn repeated the rhyme, John Morgan looked at Berwyn with the most curious of expressions. Berwyn gazed into his son’s eyes, his heart breaking that the man didn’t know him. But there was something in his face that suggested he was trying. Something was going on in that wounded brain, sparks of long-lost memories beginning to stir.
“Do you know that rhyme, John Morgan?” Berwyn asked calmly. “Have you heard it before?”
John Morgan stared at Berwyn a moment longer before nodding his head, briefly. Then, he faced forward again, all but ignoring Rod and Berwyn. It was evident that the conversation was over. Still, contact had been made. There was something there, something that suggested memories were buried deep. They simply needed to dig them out. When Rod finally turned to Berwyn to see how the man was reacting, he was surprised to see a smile on his lips.
He had hope.
The ride continued in comfortable silence from that point forward. Rod’s attention turned from his uncle and grandfather to the head of the column where de Velt and de Lohr were beginning to signal to the men. Cloryn Castle was drawing close and a call went up in the column, and everyone ground to a halt.
De Poyer, covering the rear, barked orders and sent the provisions wagons away from the rest of the column, back into a line of trees that was off to the northeast. They would have protection there and tents would be pitched out of the range of archers from the castle. Word then spread back through the lines, calling Rod forward. De Lohr had need of him.
Rod charged forward, along the column, until he reached Christopher at the head. “Aye, my lord?” he responded as he brought his charger to a halt.
Christopher was in full battle armor, as was de Velt. It was an impressive but odd sight, seeing the two great commanders in full regalia as allies with a common cause. De Velt was as frightening as always in his red and black tunic with his battle-scarred older mail, something he hadn’t worn in quite a long time, while Christopher’s recognizable blue and yellow tunic covered expensive and well-maintained mail. When Rod approached, Christopher lifted his visor.
“We can see movements on the parapets, so they are alerted to our arrival and are undoubtedly preparing,” he told Rod. “Since you have already made contact with your cousin, I am going to ask you to ride to the gate and summon him. Since he knows you, he is less likely to shoot you down.”
Rod pursed his lips wryly. “I amnotcomforted by that, my lord,” he said. “What would you have me say to him?”
Christopher fought off a smile at Rod’s humorless answer. “Announce our arrival,” he said. “Tell de Llion that we have come to make an exchange for de Velt’s daughter. Tell him that we wish to see her and make sure she is in good health before we proceed.”
Rod nodded, affixing the strap on his helm that had loosened. “Am I alone to view the girl and determine her health, or do you want me to summon you when she is being brought forth?”
“I want to see her,” Jax said before Christopher could reply.
Christopher shook his head. “If you go any closer, you will be within range of the archers and they can cut you down,” he said, telling the man what he already knew. His attention returned to Rod. “You can determine if the woman is in good health.”
Rod wriggled his dark eyebrows knowingly. “He is going to expect de Velt for the exchange,” he said. “What should I tell him?”
Christopher glanced at Jax before replying. “Tell him we have no intention of attacking Cloryn and we will keep our army at bay providing he brings de Velt’s daughter and meets us on neutral territory, away from the walls of Cloryn.” He could see the castle in the distance, the road, and a wide field on the opposite side of the road, away from the castle. He pointed at it. “That field will do. We will be in full view of the castle at all times. In fact, Jax and I will bring John Morgan and go there toawait the exchange. De Llion will be able to see us and, if nothing else, it will pique his curiosity.”
