Gawain of the Greenwood

6. Gwen of the Greenwood

The courtyard of Greenwood Castle was a hive of activity, and though it seemed like chaos, it was organised chaos, and Sir Thomas found himself impressed. A bell behind the keep wall continued to toll with urgency, pulled on its rope by one of the village boys. Outside the stable, the horses were being tacked up and tethered to the holding rail by the groom and several volunteers who seemed to know their way around horses, whilst Cole and Habal were dispensing weapons to the villagers from the armoury. At least Sir Thomas knew what had been locked away behind the door that Eleanor had encountered. Because metal was rare in the woods, there were less than a half-dozen swords, which went to the most accomplished swordsmen in the village—though judging by the way they clumsily fumbled to fasten them to their belts, that wasn't saying much. Wood, though, was ubiquitous, and the people of the Greenwood had been very industrious. Over a dozen good quality bows were handed out, some to a few men, the rest to village women. The children and the elderly, meanwhile, were making their way into the castle proper.

Gwen sat astride her horse, a plain-looking bay that was probably worth its weight in silver, casting her cool-eyed gaze over everything that was happening. Sir Thomas, already mounted on Cloud, sat patiently beside her, whilst his children waited for their horses to be readied. Thomas knew they had a short time yet; Sir Timothy was out scouting in the forest, keeping an eye on on the bandits. He'd been instructed to return when they were a half-mile from the village.

"You don't seem at all concerned," Thomas remarked to Gwen. Indeed, she sat with the practised calmness common to knights and experienced soldiers.

"I am," she replied quietly. She'd found time to change out of her dress and into a pair of trews, brown riding boots, a loose-fitting shirt and a leather jerkin. A sword was sheathed at her hip, and she looked every bit the tom-boy as Eleanor. "I just cannot allow my concern to show. The people of the village look to 'Lady Gwendolyn' and take their cues from me as much as from Gawain."

Thomas looked around at the faces of the women and men who stood with arms ready. They were trying very hard to appear confident; a few bitten lips and chewed fingernails betrayed their nerves, but they did not appear to be ready to flee in terror.

"And just where is 'Gawain'?" he asked.

"Getting changed into armour," the young woman replied somewhat stiffly. "He has to look the part."

A thought suddenly occurred to him. "These people don't know that you're the one in charge here, do they?"

Gwen shook her head. "They listen to and adore Gawain because even though he is not a true Lord, he behaves like one. But me? I can never be a Lord, or a Knight. All I can ever be is a Lady. Men, even the men in our village, would not be so quick to take instruction from Gwen as from Gawain. I am constrained not only by my lack of nobility, but by my sex."

Thomas nodded to himself. Her curtness now made much more sense to him. She had a battle to fight on two fronts, and neither of them was likely to be won anytime soon. Gwen, he could tell, hated needing to hide behind the facade of Gawain. She hated that even though a man could be respected by other men despite his lack of nobility, a woman could not.

And Eleanor thought she had it tough!

His children began to mount their horses, Armus, Richard and Cedric wearing their swords, Eleanor carrying her crossbow. Thomas didn't like the thought of his youngest two entering battle, but they'd proven themselves in a fight more than once. Besides, Eleanor's bow would keep her out of the thick of things, and Armus and Richard would keep one eye each on Cedric.

"Cease sounding the alarm!"

The voice of Gawain—no, Andrew, Sir Thomas recalled—boomed around the courtyard, followed by a cessation in noise. The boy who'd been ringing the bell scampered out of sight, and everybody turned to look at the armoured figure who stepped into their ranks. Andrew immediately began to issue orders, gesturing first to the eight or so women who'd been given bows.

"You will defend Greenwood Castle whilst our forces are away," he said. "If a man approaches whom you do not recognise, shoot him on sight." One of the women, perhaps their leader, nodded in agreement, and Andrew turned to the men with swords. "You will remain here and aid them in case the castle walls are breached."

"Yes, Gawain!" they chorused.

Cole and Habal appeared from the castle door, belting their swords as they strode towards their horses. They mounted, followed by Andrew who had to be helped into his saddle because his armour was so heavy. Thomas quickly gestured for his children to fall into line behind him. Armus manoeuvred Thunder to one side of Cloud, whilst Richard positioned Copper to the other side. Cedric and Eleanor were forced to travel behind him, but that was the way he preferred it.

"You men," Andrew said to five of the archers, "will come with us and take up positions within the village. You will fire two rounds on my command, then retreat back to the Castle. Just as we practised. Do you understand?"

"Of course," they agreed.

And just like that, the company was moving. 'Gawain' took the lead, with Cole and Habal flanking him. Behind them came Sir Thomas, and Gwen fell in beside him as he nudged Cloud forward, with his children following closely and the five archers traipsing after the horses. Judging by the number of arrows in their quivers, Gwen had been preparing for something like this for some time. The arrows were even tipped; there was probably a fletcher amongst the villagers, though Thomas had seen no sign of one during his ride through the village.

The small procession had barely gone two-dozen paces when the sound of hoofbeats pounding along the road could be heard. Andrew didn't stop his march, though, and a few seconds later Sir Timothy appeared. His horse was sweaty across its flanks and starting to foam at the mouth as it chomped at its bit.

"Fifteen in total," Timothy reported to Andrew. Thomas wondered if the knight knew who is true master was. But that was a question for later. "Three mounted, including Bloody William. The rest are common thugs, though they do have a few crossbows. They're a half mile away from the village."

"Then we'd better get there fast and prepare a welcome for them," said Andrew.

The false noble increased his pace to a trot, and Timothy went on ahead to ensure the village was still secure. Behind, the archers had to jog to keep up.

They found Sir Timothy waiting in the village, which was otherwise unoccupied. Thomas glanced around, looking for the best defensible positions. He quickly realised that the defenders already had an advantage, in the form of higher ground. The archers of the group took up positions behind several houses, where attackers would not be able to see them crouching in readiness.

With a few minutes to spare, Sir Thomas turned to Gwen, whilst Andrew, Cole, Habal and Sir Timothy rode a few paces forward.

"Who is this 'Bloody William'?" he asked her.

"A man so-named because when he was the leader of the bandits here in the Greenwood, he slaughtered so many that the river ran red with blood for an entire day. The village closest to the castle fared better than most; it was under the rule of another self-styled bandit lord, whom Bloody William did not wish to cross. Two or three of the other villages within the Greenwood were not so lucky, however."

"Why didn't you drive him out or kill him, like you did the others?"

A dark scowl marred the woman's pretty face. "I thought I had. I shot him with my bow during one of our hit-and-run night raids. I thought my arrow had pierced his eye; I saw his body dragged off by one of his more loyal minions during the chaos and their attempt to escape. Clearly the shot was not as fatal as I originally thought."

"Father, what are your instructions?" Armus asked.

"Stay close for now," he told his eldest son, but he also included the rest of his children in the instructions. "Eleanor, you are to stay back with the archers and use your crossbow. Cedric, I want you to remain by my side, regardless of whether we have to fight. Armus, Richard, you help 'Gawain' and the others as best you can."

"But father—" Eleanor begin, just about beating Cedric to his own complaint. Thomas lifted his hand, cutting off his daughter's words.

"Do not argue with me Eleanor. And that goes for you too, Cedric. Otherwise I'll send you back to the castle. It is a knight's duty to obey his liege, and a son's duty to obey his father. A daughter's duty too, for that matter."

"Movement!" Sir Timothy called, and the Greys all turned their attention towards the road to the village once more.

The bandits were a motley group, some large men, some small, all of them armed and the majority unkempt. Three of them rode horses which were nowhere near as fine as the Greys' horses, or the horses from Greenwood Castle. It was to the man at the fore of the group that Thomas' eyes went. He was a tall man, and looked built for toiling in the fields all day. His clothes were of dark brow leather, some of it studded and frayed, and a dark black patch was fastened across his left eye. It would seem Gwen's shot had caused damage after all. Thomas had known men to die, after losing an eye. Mostly it was shock and blood-loss which caused death.

There was movement from the group of mounted men in the village, and Andrew pushed his horse ahead by a single pace.

"Bloody William," he said. "Your reign of terror in this forest is long over. You have survived a fight against me once, but you will not have the chance to do so again."

"Doesn't matter if I survive," the man sneered back, his gravelly voice carrying through air that was so tense it almost thrummed. "I came for one thing, and one thing only. Vengeance." He drew a dagger, pointing towards the eye-patch with the tip of the weapon. "Your handiwork, milord. And you know what it says in the Bible; an eye for an eye. Only, I charge interest, so I'm going to take both of yours, and put your head on a pike so the people who worship the ground you piss on can see you're just as killable as any other man."

There was no warning. Three men from Bloody William's group raised their crossbows and prepared to unleash their bolts. Andrew and the others scattered, as did Armus and Richard, moving their horses so they made harder targets to hit.

"Archers!" Andrew shouted.

The men with bows stepped out from behind cover just as the crossbowmen released their own weapons. Thomas heard the thud as one body in the village hit the ground, but then he saw two of the bandits go down too; one of them a bow-wielder.

"We should charge before they have time to reload their crossbows!" Richard shouted above the din of screaming horses and yelling men.

"Wait!" Gwen said. There was a look of concentration in her eyes, as if she controlled the battle herself with only her strength of will. "We've trained many times for this."

Sir Thomas was glad she'd called for them to wait. Longbows and shortbows were much faster to reload, draw, aim and fire than crossbows; a good archer could get off several shots before a crossbowman could manage his second. The archers of the village were not good, but they were good enough for now. They fired a second volley into the ranks of the bandits. Two more went down; one of them mounted. The horse began bucking beneath him, catching another brigand a painful blow in the chest. Only foolish men rode horses untrained for war into a battle. They were more a liability than a help.

The archers knew how to follow instructions. After they'd released their second round of arrows, they turned and ran for the castle as Andrew had told them. Meanwhile, the two remaining crossbowmen had reloaded and fired two bolts. Sir Thomas heard two cries of pain, one of them very familiar. His paternal instinct kicked in immediately. Swivelling in his saddle, he saw Cedric slumped over Mercury's back, clutching one arm as blood poured down it.

As fast as Thomas was, Richard was faster. He was already by his brother's side, examining the wound despite the chaos around him.

"A glancing blow!" Richard reported. "The bolt grazed his arm, but didn't go through it."

Thomas couldn't help but heave a sigh of relief. Crossbow bolts were nasty things. A man might recover well from an arrow through the arm, even if it was tipped, because arrows tended to pierce flesh but be deflected by bone. Crossbow bolts were an entirely different beast; they not only tore flesh, but had enough force behind them to shatter bone entirely. A bolt through an arm usually meant an amputated arm. It was not a fate Thomas would wish on any man, much less his youngest son.

The thunder of hooves told Thomas that the cavalry was charging. Looking up, he saw Cole, Habal and Sir Timothy lining up their horses, ready to mow down the bandits. When Gwen also nudged her horse forward, riding past Andrew who had backed off and seemed content to watch, he reacted on instinct, kicking Cloud forwards, after the young woman's horse.

"Armus, with me!" he called. "Richard, Eleanor, stay with Cedric!"

The next few moments happened so quickly that they appeared to happen slowly. The three horses at the front of the line went forward into a canter even before Gwen, Thomas and Armus had caught up with them. Thomas soon understood why. They'd spotted that the crossbowmen would need a moment to reload, and couldn't afford any more losses. But just as Sir Thomas was about to take Cloud into canter to join them, the three riders pulled their horses up fast, stopping them almost dead. The bandits, who'd been faced with a potential cavalry charge, had spread themselves out and begun to run forwards, swords held high in lieu of pikes. When the cavalry charge halted, the bandits did not.

There was a loud thwack, and Sir Thomas glanced to his left in time to see Andrew hack at a rope that had been suspended from one of the house walls. An ominous creak sounded from above, and when he looked up, he realised why the cavalry charge had stopped. A large amount of timber, which looked like nothing more than a web of forest branches, fell from the trees above now that they were no longer fastened by the rope which held the whole thing precariously in place. The brigands didn't realise they were running into a trap until the wood was falling down around them. Several were hit on the head and knocked unconscious. Bloody William was knocked from his horse but quickly found his footing and his sword. Eight bandits made it through the trap, their faces contorted into bloody-thirsty inhuman masks.

It happened so quickly that there was barely time to think. The bandits closed with the riders, and if there was any doubt that Sir Timothy was a knight, it immediately fled from Thomas' mind. The knight's horse was obviously trained well for war. It began to kick out at nearby aggressors, knocking one off his feet and probably breaking his ribs, and then lunging for another with its teeth.

Habal didn't wait for an enemy to approach him. He threw himself out of his saddle, clearly preferring unmounted combat. He let out a guttural roar and launched himself at the first assailant he saw. The bandit suddenly looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, but the expression on his face lasted only as long as it took for Habal to run him through with his sword.

Sir Thomas was as accomplished on the ground as he was on horseback, and he decided to remain on Cloud as he drew his sword to parry an incoming blow. From the corner of his eye he saw Armus dismount before drawing his own weapon; no doubt he wanted to keep Thunder out of harm's way. The horse provided a large target, but he wouldn't stray too far away from his master.

The melee was over almost as soon as it had begun. The bandits had the slight advantage in numbers, but they were poorly trained and seemed to have little experience with the sword. Probably they'd been brawlers, bare-fist fighters. Most of them didn't look as if they could afford to buy swords; they were probably stolen from somewhere.

As Thomas' opponent went down with a fatal cut to the throat, he glanced around for another attacker. Habal was in the middle of dispatching a second opponent, and to Thomas' surprise, he saw Gwen fighting one-on-one with Bloody William. Her style was unique. She obviously lacked the strength of a man, but countered that disparity by employing grace of movement. Her defence relied not on blocking, but on parrying. She moved fluidly, stepping from stance to stance, and simply failed to be in the places where William's sword expected to find her.

The conclusion of the fight was foregone. As Bloody William swung again, hacking at the air like another man might hack at a tree, Gwen moved quickly around, lifted her sword, and plunged it through his side, the blade flat to allow it to better pierce his ribs. There was a look of shock and disbelief on Bloody William's face as he collapsed to the ground, and within seconds he had ceased to breathe.

For a long moment there were no words. Everybody was breathing hard, more with excitement than with exertion. Sir Thomas glanced back to check on Cedric, but did not embarrass the boy by making a fuss. Beside, Richard was tending to his brother, and Eleanor was watching protectively, a fierce look in her eyes. She gripped her crossbow as if she intended to bludgeon to death anyone who came near her brother. As far as Thomas could tell, her weapon had not been fired.

The victors moved amongst the dead and the dying, helping along anybody who was suffering. By the time all the horses, including the ones owned by the bandits, had been retrieved and tethered securely, the village was richer by fifteen corpses, and a murder of crows had begun to gather atop the trees.

"Shot in the back."

Gwen's words caught Thomas' attention. He turned and found her crouched over one of the villagers. It was obvious how he had died; the amount of blood and damage covering his back was indicative of a crossbow bolt entry wound. Gwen shook her head.

"What a waste. Only a coward shoots a man in the back."

"To be fair, I don't think those crossbowmen were aiming for anyone in particular," Armus said sadly. "It was dumb luck on their behalf, and bad luck on ours."

"An unacceptable loss," Gwen countered. "I should have seen this. I should have planned for it."

Sir Thomas stepped forward. "Two losses, compared to fifteen. I'd say that what you have done here is nothing short of miraculous."

"Tell that to the families of these men."

The anger and ferocity had gone from Gwen's face now, replaced by a look of infinite sadness. Her blue eyes seemed to convey everything that was wrong with the world and more.

"What should we do with the bodies?" Habal asked. His dark clothes were blood-spattered, but the blood was not his own.

"The bandits?" Gwen replied. "Burn them. Far from here. I don't want the village tainted with their filth. As for the two villagers… ask Cole to cover their bodies for now. We have funerals to prepare for."

o - o - o - o - o

"It wasn't easy for me, growing up in Northumberland. I was the only girl-child in the castle. They stable-boys were… not kind. The servants mostly ignored me. They hated that Lady Clara had taken such an interest in me. They hated having to cater to me."

Cedric listened in rapt attention as Gwendolyn finally told the Greys the truth. Or at least, what she claimed was the truth. This time.

Twenty-four hours had passed since the Battle of Greenwood, as he would always recount it when asked. His arm had stopped bleeding and had been expertly bandaged by Gawain, or Andrew, or whatever he was called, but it still ached horribly. Still, it was a small price to pay. Armus said he might end up with a small scar, and Cedric was sure women thought scars to be very manly things.

"The captain of the guard said I reminded him of his niece," Gwen continued. There was a small smile on her face as she swirled the mead in her cup around in front of the firelight. "He thought it amusing to teach me the sword. Not amusing in a cruel way, you understand. I guess he felt sorry for me, having nobody but my uncle to talk to, or Lady Clara. Of course, the boys sent up to the keep to train with the sword hated that I was learning too. I think they felt threatened by it. They were all surprised that I could even learn the sword, but once I managed to compensate for its heavy weight, I did just fine. So by day I'd learn the things a boy learns; horse care, archery, sword and stave. And by night, Lady Clara would bring me to her room to teach me music and have me learn my letters so that I could read for her."

Gwen's blue eyes came up, resting for a moment on Cedric before flickering over to the face of his father.

"The rest of the story that Andrew told you is true. When Clara died, the servants became even more hostile. And the young men training to become squires and fighters began to look at me differently. I didn't like the looks in their eyes. I thought I was safe, but when my uncle died but a few months later, I knew I couldn't stay. Lord Linley didn't like me, and I knew he wouldn't think twice about it if I came to harm."

"It was a brave thing you did, to set out alone," Armus said. Cedric mentally cursed his brother; he'd wanted to say that himself! Now he was going to have to find a new compliment.

"I wasn't alone for long. I met Cole on the road, and Andrew joined us a few weeks later, and then we rescued Habal, who pledged himself to my protection. The rest, you know. I'm sorry that I had to deceive you. That I had to ask Andrew to deceive you. But as I'm sure you can understand, they were lies born out of necessity."

"As much as I dislike lies," Sir Thomas said, "I can understand why you did it. And I have to admit, your accomplishments here are no less because you are a woman. I take it that the trap in the village was your idea, too?"

Gwen nodded. "Being smaller than most of my opponents means I have to think creatively, and use my environment to my advantage. Sir Timothy has helped with some of my preparations, such as scouting the high road and the warning bell, but the majority are mine. So… what say you, Sir Thomas? Do we still have our trade agreement?"

It seemed to Cedric that every member of the Grey family held their breath, even Richard. He'd relaxed somewhat since learning that it was Gwen who controlled the Greenwood, and not 'Gawain.' Cedric suspected his brother didn't feel as threatened by a woman pretending to be a noble man as he did a man pretending to be a noble man. Which was a bit stupid, really, but if it stopped Richard from acting like an ass, then Cedric didn't care.

"Very well," said Sir Thomas at last. "The same terms as before. But my family and I really must be leaving in the morning. We've more than overstayed our welcome, and I have my own lands to return to. I just hope the Friar's managed to cope with everything whilst we've been away."

"Of course, I understand," Gwen said graciously. "You may retire to your rooms as you require. Cedric, I would speak with you as you return to your room, if you don't mind."

Cedric leapt to his feet so quickly that the chair almost toppled beneath him. "Of course I don't mind! I mean, it would be my pleasure to talk to you further."

Ignoring the grins of his siblings, he followed Gwen out of the door. He shivered as the cold air of the corridor whipped away the lingering heat of the fire from his body.

"I hope your arm doesn't pain you too much," Gwen said, glancing at his arm, which was held still in a short sling to prevent the muscle tearing and bleeding again.

"Oh, hardly at all," he lied, and saw a small smile play across her lips. "So, err, of what did you wish to speak?"

"I wanted to say thank-you."

"Oh." He knew that he sounded disappointed, but he couldn't help it. "For what? All I did was get shot."

She shook her head, long brown locks fanning out around her. "No, not for that. I mean for being so accepting. You're one of the few men I've met who doesn't care that I can ride and fight and that I have a grasp on politics. Most men don't accept aspirations in a woman. But it truly doesn't bother you, does it?"

"Not at all," he assured her earnestly.

She stopped outside his bedroom door and turned to face him. Before he could even think of inviting her in, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek softly.

"You're very sweet," she said. "I hope you don't lose that."

"You know," he said, thinking fast, "this means we're officially neighbours now. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot more of each other in the future. I don't mind riding back here if you'd like some company. And I'd be happy to welcome you as my guest to Covington Cross, and show you around my home."

"Perhaps one day," she replied. "For now, I have lands to secure and lives to improve. Right now, all of my thoughts and attention must be committed to the Greenwood. Though I do hope that one day, when men and women are equal whether they are noble or common, I will be able to take you up on your offer of hospitality."

"Heh." He felt his heart deflate a little. "I wish that moment was just around the corner, but I think there's more chance of pigs growing wings and flying like birds."

"Perhaps." She smiled. "Goodnight, Cedric."

"Night, Gwen."

He watched her leave, and was glad he hadn't invited her into the room after all. He suspected she'd respect him less for it. Besides, now he had something new to work for. Social equality sounded like an excellent cause, in his most humble opinion.

o - o - o - o - o

Eleanor watched Cedric follow Gwen out of the room, looking like the cat that had just gotten cream. She suspected her little brother was in over his head in this case, however. Learning that 'Gawain' was really 'Gwen' had been a shock, to say the least. Eleanor had always thought that she was the only woman interested in fighting and riding and being seen as equal to men in all things. But Gwen was not only as good as Eleanor at those things, but better!

Her heart fluttered in fright when she heard someone take the seat next to her, but she relaxed a little when she saw it was only Gawain. Or rather, Andrew. He gave her a smile which lit up his eyes, though it also had something of a… sheepish… quality to it.

"Lady Eleanor, I hope I'm not disturbing you," he said.

"Not at all." From the corner of her vision she noticed Armus and Richard move away to discuss something together, giving Eleanor a little privacy, for which she was grateful. "Is there something on your mind?"

"Actually, I wanted to offer my personal apologies to you, for the lies I had to tell you and your family."

She nodded. This was a subject she had hoped would not come up, but now that he was here, in front of her, there was just one thing she wanted to know.

"Was any of what you told me true?"

"Very little, I'm afraid. But I'd like to tell you the truth now, if you're willing to hear it."

She folded her arms across her chest and settled back into her chair. "Alright."

"I, like Gwen, grew up in Lord Linley's castle, but I wasn't born there. I was actually born to the Celts, and was found by one of Lord Linley's soldiers following a recent battle, one Celts tribe against another. I was found in the ruins of a village, the sole survivor. The soldier took me back to the keep and gave me to one of the maids to look after. She named me Andrew, and for all intents and purposes, I consider her my mother. I have no idea who my real parents are."

"How sad!" she said, as Andrew's story tugged at the strings of her heart.

"Indeed. Anyway, when I was thirteen, it was decided that I wouldn't make a very good servant, and it just so happened that the Bishop of Coventry was visiting the area, 'raising the morale of men fighting a constant vigilance against the barbaric Celts,' as he put it. He agreed to take me me with him when he returned home, and I was pressed into the service of the church."

"You're a priest?" she asked, knowing that her voice was full of disbelieving tones. Andrew was like no priest she had ever met before. He was charming and handsome, for a start.

"Well, I was never ordained. You see, I was travelling with one of the senior clerics by coach to Worcester, when our coach was attacked by highwaymen. Just as we feared they'd rob us of our much-needed charity funds, a pair of soldiers rode up and chased the criminals off. And when one of the soldiers pulled back his hood, who should I find beneath it but my old friend Gwen?

"She recognised me instantly, of course." He gave her a wink. "It's the colour of my hair, I think." Eleanor felt a smile play unbidden across her lips. Andrew did have very auburn hair. "At that moment," he continued, "I felt as if God had put me in her path for a reason. She and Cole escorted us to Worcester, and when they left, I left with them. The rest you know."

"Why did you agree to lie to people in the village? Isn't it dishonourable for a man of the cloth to lie?"

"Yes, but I believe it is for the greater good. If people's lives are improved because they believe I am something I am not, then so be it. I don't like it, but I'd prefer this to seeing them suffer. I don't approve of all the killing that's had to be done—I would prefer to see the brigands in the Greenwood rehabilitated, and brought into God's light, but so far they've been unwilling to listen to reason." He sighed. "Some men just prefer physical pleasures of the flesh to spiritual pleasures of the soul. But at least I can educate the people of the village, and try to prevent the next generation from becoming murderers and thieves.

"So, that is my story. I hope you can understand and forgive my lies, even though I may not be worthy of your forgiveness."

Eleanor subjected the man before her to a long moment of scrutiny, but she just couldn't stay angry with him, even though she still felt a little foolish over being deceived by him.

"Does the Bible not teach forgiveness?" she asked.

"That it does. I see you know your holy texts."

"Not as well as Cedric does. But we attend sermons on Sundays with our Friar, and he teaches us the words of the Bible."

Andrew stood up, and offered his hand. "You are as intelligent as you are beautiful, Lady Eleanor. Will you allow me to escort you safely to your room for the night? I have a feeling the ghosts may be restless this eve."

"There aren't really any ghosts here, are there?"

"I suppose that depends on whether you believe in them." She stood up and set her hand into his. "Personally, I believe that ghosts are the spirits of the dead who have not yet found their way into the light of the Lord. It's just one more task ahead of me."

"One which I'm certain you will accomplish."

"I hope so. I'd like to see the ghosts of the Greenwood put to rest. I believe that only then can the true healing begin."

o - o - o - o - o

Bright sunlight shone in through the small stained-glass windows of Greenwood Castle, sending coloured beams of light playing across the floor and walls. The sun hinted at more favourable weather to come. The start of spring had truly begin.

Eleanor glanced at the woman who walked behind her. Gwen had come to her bedroom to offer an apology for her previously unwelcoming words, and now that the hand of friendship had been offered, Eleanor found it remarkably easy to accept.

"I hope that one day, you manage to find yourself a husband who will accept you as you are, and not try to force you to conform to the idea of what a woman should be," Gwen said.

"Thank you. And I hope that your campaign here in the Greenwood is a success, and that you are able to bring peace and stability to the region."

Gwen nodded in thanks for the thought. She was dressed once more in a gown, and Eleanor felt a pang of envy; she never looked that pretty in gowns.

"You're always welcome to come and visit me at Covington Cross," Eleanor offered. "Perhaps we could go hunting together. Show my brothers how it's done."

"When my duties here afford me time away from the keep… I would like that."

The sunlight greeted both women as they stepped out of the castle and into the courtyard. Eleanor's brothers were ready to depart, and all the horses were tacked ready for their journey. When Richard saw both women approach, he stepped forward.

"You will have our trade contract within the next few days, Gwen," he said. Then he ran one of his brown-gloved hands through his curly hair. "And please accept my apologies for my rude words. I realise, now, that I have a habit of speaking my thoughts without first thinking about them."

"Oh, now, he realises!" said Cedric, melodramatically throwing his hands up into the air.

"Thank you, Richard," said Gwen. "Have a safe ride back to Covington Cross, and I look forward to receiving your papers."

"You know I'm not going to give up on prying that honey mead recipe out of you," Armus said, replacing his younger brother who was mounting his chestnut horse.

"It will take stronger hands than yours to prise that secret from me, Armus."

The eldest Grey took his horse's reins from the groom and led Thunder over towards Copper. Cedric stepped up, and took Gwen's hand in his own, affecting a low bow and a sweep of his cloak before kissing the back of her hand.

"Until next time, my Lady," he grinned.

"Pleasant journey, good sir," Gwen replied. There was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

Eleanor nodded at Gwen, and then at Andrew, who was standing a little further away from the group. Both people returned her gesture, and she turned for her horse's reins. Damascus was as fresh as ever after days mostly cooped up in a stable, but she managed to mount him without being thrown, and then watched as her father approached Gwen.

"I wish you luck, Gwendolyn, because I think you're going to need it," he said. Eleanor recognised the patient tone of understanding in his voice. It was his bad-news-delivery voice. "With your victory over Bloody William, you have bought yourself a reprieve, but I fear it won't be much longer before the eyes of other nobles begin to turn towards you. They will not be taken in by your lies, and if they come with their armies they won't be as easy to defeat as a group of untrained, undisciplined brigands."

"Then I hope if such a time ever comes, I can count on your friendship and guidance, Sir Thomas."

Eleanor's father gave a small smile. "Before we can run, we must learn to walk. And before we can walk, we must learn to crawl. Let us see if this trade agreement between us can prove fruitful. If so, perhaps we may talk of friendship in the future."

"I look forward to such talks," Gwen replied.

The groom held Cloud's stirrup in place as Sir Thomas mounted the tall white horse, and Eleanor took one last look around the courtyard. Yes, Greenwood Castle was old, and it needed a lot of work, and it was probably haunted. But today, in the sunlight, it looked for the first time to be a place of hope, and of new life.

Sir Thomas signalled his children to follow him out of the courtyard, and soon Eleanor's attention was taken by her horse. Damascus seemed to think their departure was a race, and she was so focused on keeping him in check that she barely even noticed the children running alongside, an unofficial escort to their first party of visiting nobles.

Once clear of the village, Cedric trotted his horse to her side.

"Tell you what, I'll race you to the bridge over the river," he said, and he kicked Mercury into a canter.

That was all the excuse Damascus needed. The excitable young horse thoroughly ignored his rider's instructions and leapt into flight after his older brother. From behind, Eleanor heard her father shout 'Slow down or you'll break your foolish necks!' but she couldn't have stopped Damascus even if she'd cared to try. She laughed as the cool wind brought tears to her eyes, and her long hair streaked behind her as she caught and passed Cedric.

Life, she decided, was too short to be worried about slowing down. The smell of summer was in the air, and she had the whole world in front of her. Today she had made a new friend, and she suspected that with Gwen and her campaign in the Greenwood right next door to Covington Cross, many more new adventures would follow.

= The End =

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story. I know, I know, it started slow and all the action seemed to happen right at the end. Hopefully the ending didn't feel too rushed. This is one of several stories I have planned for Covington Cross. My next CC fic will be entitled 'Knights', and to give you a sneaky idea of what it's about, here's the tagline: As Sir Thomas plans to find a suitable wife for Armus, Richard suffers a terrible accident, and has to face a possible future in which he cannot carry out his knightly duties. His injury reawakens old pains for Armus, who has never wanted to take up the responsibilities of an oldest son.

So, what's next week's story? Well, if I remember rightly, I promised a Deadpool fic. Buuuut I only have the first 5 or 6 chapters written, and I'm going to need a few more before it's finished. So instead, I'll be uploading a short Supernatural story whilst I work on my fic about the Merc with a Mouth. I will of course be updating my DS9/Cardassian fic every Wednesday as per usual, and working on a pre-Mass Effect story when the mood strikes me, but if none of those tickle your fancy, then I'll see you next Friday for some Winchester fun!