Thomas stood his ground as the lance was turned at the very last moment. He was felled by a glancing blow from the shaft.
The knight reared his horse and returned to inspect the unconscious stranger, poking him with the lance point. Three men ran from the security of the main gate and soon they had lifted Thomas onto a board and made their way back inside the tower.All the while the knight stood guard-his horse nervously springing from side to side and rearing up.
Then as the party were safe , the knight kicked his mount and they were swallowed into the mouth of the main gate.
From behind a thicket of hawthorn, Straw Beard had seen everything-just as he had been ordered by Geraint. His usually emotionless face only twitched once-when he saw Thomas stand his ground.It was a small smile of either admiration, or possibly satisfaction at seeing pain being inflicted.Now he moved backwards from the tangle of branches and untied his own horse.It was time to act on the plans he had been given.
High above this scene, a third figure witnessed not only Thomas and the knight, but was equally aware of Straw Beard. Now the figure revealed itself;it was Anais. She looked pale and beautiful to any man.Framed in her crimson hood and full length cloak which flowed around her slim hips like water as she moved. She too found a horse that snorted as she approached. It was obvious they had a bond or kinship of two travellers on a long road with shared hardships. Anais whispered into the horse's ear. The horse settled as she mounted and swiftly rode off into the gloaming.
Geraint was first in the saddle whilst Turlock mustered his men-they cursed as their dice games were cut short. Turlock cared nothiing for their approval-he knew Geraint was the master and where his bread and beer flowed from. Soon they rode toward the tower but not directly, rather down along the course of the rock strewn river at the foot of the valley.All carried ropes.
Inside the tower arms were stacked at each vantage point and each weak point. Stones piled upon wall tops as missiles, arrows and throwing spears with fine slim heads. Some men had crossbows and some had longbows. Many looked like Thomas, only greener and not battle proven for they had kind faces, not ravished by revenge or pillage or witness to slaughter of true war.
The lord of the tower now strode through the passageways- it was indeed the knight himself who had ridden out and felled Thomas. He burst into a large chamber where Thomas was being nursed by his own sister.She deferred to the lord who touched Thomas' brow and nodded for the wine flask.
"He will have a sore head but I can see he is a young man with great courage and a strong pulling arm"
"Indeed my lord" came Anne's response-she smiled in relief at both the lord's reassurance and at his kind manner. It was clear that Geraint had met his match in many ways. For Anne, though fat with Geraint's baby, had fallen for this handsome lord and already, his concern for her brother had shown where her future loyalty now lay.
Thomas stirred. The lord left Anne and her brother to have counsel alone.
The tower was now in darkness with small pools of flickering flame from braziers and torches. The moon was creeping over the eastern ridge. Young defenders fiddled with weapons-sheathing and unsheathing swords, swinging axes and jabbing barrels and sacks with daggers. Beyond the walls, dark shapes moved into position, climbing ever higher from the river far below.
Anais had set herself a vantage point-like some night predator , she was ready to strike. One mystery was soon to be revealed. Who exactly was her prey?
