Gwenhwyfar_ The White Spirit - Mercedes Lackey [120]
“We had rather convert them and save their souls, if souls they have,” said a dry voice from the rear of the group. “As our brothers in Eire saved the souls of the Daughters of Lyr. But yes, if we can buy peace of them—”
“Then make a gift of bread at the water’s edge, once a week, say, if you have it to spare.” She smiled. “Most of them live beneath the Lake, and it is a little difficult to bake bread at the bottom of a lake. Mark it with one of your crosses, so that they will know from whom it comes, and nothing evil will be able to touch it.”
There were murmurs, but nods. She found herself smiling even more; she had not expected to like these men and certainly had not expected them to be asking advice of her.
They asked her a few more questions, which she answered as honestly as she could, and she left burdened with bread, butter, and honey for her men, for the abbey’s cattle and bees were evidently famous. One of the monks came with her, there was so much to carry.
She returned to the encampment burdened as much by thought as by the gifts. She had expected acute disapproval, even hatred. While some of those men clearly disapproved of her, more simply accepted her as her own people accepted her. And there was no hatred. Mostly they seemed to be grateful that she was taking the time to explain things and reassure them. Even those who seemed to disapprove of her had listened to her words.
So she found again, when she had seen that the food was properly distributed. As the monk said farewell and began to leave, he suddenly turned back to her.
“You are a great and kind lady, to have spent so much time explaining matters,” he said, shyly. “I hope you do not mind that I brought the brothers to speak with you.”
She grinned a little. “So it was your doing?”
He flushed. “Aye. When I saw you in the chapel, as fair as Our Lady is said to be, and with such a look of peace upon you, I knew that you had a good heart, even though your soul is pagan. I knew that you would tell us the truth and not put us off, as lord Kai has done. And I knew that because you are a woman that knows the hearts of your men, you would see us as a kind of warrior too and serve us the truth, instead of seeing us as womanly, as the Companions do, and serve us empty assurances.”
She was so taken aback that all she could do was blink and blush. He didn’t seem to mind; he just took her hand and wrung it a little.
“I know that goodness and beauty do not always go hand in hand,” he finished, simply, “But in you, White Spirit, I think they are united. God’s blessing on you. I will pray for you.”
He trotted off back to his duties and his brothers, leaving her staring dumbfounded after him.
Chapter Eighteen
On the third day after Gwyn vanished with Gildas, a parley flag appeared on the tower of Melwas’ stronghold. After much discussion, Arthur sent his foster-brother Kai out in a boat to hear what was to be said.
They watched as Kai was taken into the stronghold. And then there was more waiting. As the time passed, the tension grew greater, and it was with tremendous relief that they all saw Kai come back out again.
This time, he was not alone. Two more men were with him; in the shifting mists, it was hard to make out more than Kai’s red tunic and the vague shapes of the other two, but—
“No, fair cousin, one of them is not me,” said Gwyn right into her ear. She jumped, and he laughed as she spun to face him. She was standing a little apart from the rest of her men, and they didn’t seem to have noticed that Gwyn had simply—well, probably, he had pulled the same trick as he had the