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Satisfaction rang through King Henry’s words, and footsteps sounded on the great hall’s wooden floor. They were drawing closer. Lifting her skirts to prevent them from brushing the stairs, Catrin turned and fled upward.

It took her shaking fingers three tries to open the door to her bedchamber. As soon as she was inside, she locked it from within and leaned up against it, her chest heaving.

“Merciful heavens, Lady Catrin, what is it this time?” Beti had risen to her feet and was staring at her in alarm.

Catrin raised an unsteady hand to her forehead. “King Henry has set a trap for the Welsh,” she said. “I heard him talking to the Duke of Bedford in the great hall.” She pushed away from the door and began pacing back and forth across the room. “He and his men shall leave for Conwy on the morning ferry, and he intends to lure the Welshmen out of the mountains in such a way that they shall have no means of retreat.” She stopped her pacing and clenched her fists. “I . . . I must do something.”

“Do something?” Beti said, her brown eyes wide. “What can you possibly do, my lady?”

“I must warn Rhys. The Tudors. The Welsh.” Her corrections were only adding to her fluster, and her lady’s maid pressed her finger to her lips.

“Have a care, my lady. In this castle, what you are saying is treasonous.”

Catrin dropped onto the nearest chair and lowered her voice. “Is it treasonous to follow my heart, Beti? I was born to an English nobleman, but my mother’s Welsh blood runs through me. I cannot bear to see the local people so oppressed by an English king who cares so little for their welfare and so much for his own gain and glory.”

Beti moved to stand beside her. “Forgive me if I overstep my bounds, my lady, but in the absence of your mother, I have to ask. Is that truly your motivation for helping the Welsh?”

Catrin felt the color creep up her cheeks.

“Rhys ap Tudor is a handsome man,” Beti said tenderly. “A woman would have to be blind not to notice him.”

For a moment, Catrin remained silent, sifting through her jumbled thoughts and feelings. “He is handsome and noble and fearless,” she said. “But more than that, Rhys has taught me to see the working-class people around me. Really see them, Beti. Recognize that they have worries and cares, homes and families that are just as important as yours and mine. They deserve more than servitude to a distant king.”

Beti nodded, a slow smile forming. “Well then, my lady,” she said. “What exactly are you going to do?”

Catrin looked up at her, a matching smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Are you not going to try to talk some sense into me, then? I feel that you may be shirking your responsibilities.”

It was her lady’s maid’s turn to blush. “I am most assuredly failing in my duties, my lady. But lest you have forgotten, I am Welsh-born too.”

Catrin shook her head. “Bless you, Beti. I could never forget. You have kept my mother’s memory and language alive this past year.” She took a deep breath. “Now I believe ’tis my turn to do my part.”

Drawing her stool closer to Catrin’s chair, Beti sat. “But what is to be done? You said that Master Rhys and Master Maredudd came to Anglesey right after King Henry’s arrival, but who’s to say where they are now? And even if you knew of Rhys ap Tudor’s current location, you would be hard-pressed to get a message to him in time.”

“I do know of one way in which he can be reached.”

Beti looked at her expectantly. “How, my lady?”

“I must get word to someone at the church in Llanrwst.”

“Llanrwst? But that’s in the Snowdonia Mountains.”

“You’ve heard of it?”

“Why, yes. ’Tis a small village up the Conwy valley.” Beti frowned. “Even on horseback, it would take considerable time to get there.”

“Time that we do not have.” Catrin rose to her feet and started pacing again. “Our only hope is to get the message across the straits ahead of the ferry.”

“Mayhap one of the fishermen . . .”

“Elfed,” Catrin said, coming to an abrupt halt. “He told me himself that he is out earlier than the others.”

“I daresay Elfed could cross to the mainland before daybreak, but how would he reach the church? His gait is too slow and painful for that long journey, and I think it unlikely that he has any experience astride a horse.”

Beti was right. And Catrin could not trust Rhys’s contact information or her own involvement in the Welsh cause to an unknown courier.

“Then I shall go,” she said. “If Elfed will take me as far as Conwy, I can acquire a mount there and ride to Llanrwst. All that will remain then is to persuade the person at the church of the urgency of my message.”

“No, my lady.” Beti was aghast. “’Tis too dangerous. You cannot travel that distance alone. Who knows what you might face. You would be placing your own life in jeopardy.”