One
Saeth fron Goch
It was high summer in the mountain ranges of the Fforest Fach woodland in the Brecon Hills. The broad fans of the oak and fern trees were massed into thick layers of shade through which sunshine splashed here and there in splodges of gold. The green path which wandered southward through the trees was so very narrow and faint that in places it all but disappeared beneath the undergrowth of hazel and varying small trees beneath which rabbits, who had wandered from their warrens, were playing in as well as foraging for some food.
But the peace of the forest was broken. A hawk in the trees trilled a sudden warning, a resting red squirrel rushed up the tree to witness the entrance of this intruder; he gave a brief chatter of anger at the sight of this interloper before hiding in his home. The scampering rabbits abandoned their previous posts into their holes, and the little track was deserted.
A woman was walking between the boles of the trees, where only the wild doe or the varying other creatures passed from day-to-day. On she came up the track she strode as boldly as though she was a Forester, although due to her sex she was most certainly not one of those. She was not dressed in a long gown as she was supposed to for the sake of convention either, but was dressed in a woollen tunic of Lincoln green and with a seven foot bow-stave in her hand. She was tall for her age of sixteen with a thin but pleasant face, coupled with eyes which matched the colour of her Lincoln green tunic. The hood of her green capuchin lay on her shoulders and her long dark hair curled around her shoulders prettily although it was tied into a slight ribbon with a black lace. Her tunic was belted around the waist by a broad leather girdle which was slightly too big for her and rattled as she walked jauntily along. A long Irish sword hung loosely from her right hip, while at her left hip hung a quiver with a six grey goose-feathered deer bolts.
Quietly she treaded the woodland ways, neither dawdling nor making any attempt to rush. Behind her easy step, the animals returned to their laconic wanderings around the forest. Life in the forest went on again as though she had never walked through the forest and disturbed their peace – not that on seeing her they really minded.
On and on she went through the darkening thickets where every shadow might be a wolf, across the sunlit clearings where the tips of the foxgloves pointed to the very sky. Once she took a wide path to avoid frightening a herd of deer who were feeding in a glade and once she paused to kneel by the stream, gently cupping her hand to take the water so she could wipe her face, watching as several tiny fish scattered away from the ripples this caused. There were still several hours of daylight still left, and she was in no definitive hurry and as she loped through and along the ancient paths, her thoughts remained divided between her joyous return home, as well as the sad news she would have to inform her brother and sister. Her return home was something she would enjoy, even if it would be tinged with sadness – she would be glad to see the land of her forefathers. The land would never belong to her due to her femininity, although she worked on the land as though she were a man. It was steadily still being bought by her family from the Lord Fitzranulf, whom would no doubt disapprove of her wanderings as well as her working on the land, but she had spent much of her time with her slightly older, two of whom were now dead, brothers' who had shown her the ways of the woodland and shown her how to shoot like their father had taught them. That was how the woman had earned her name due to her father's bowman nature– Saeth. Saeth of Myddai, although the family lived a good half hours walk away from the civilisation that village offered.
Saeth of Myddai had been visiting an ailing aunt in the village of Ystradgynlais. The older woman had become ill a few months before, and Saeth had only gone to visit her the previous week due to her younger brother Jacob being old enough to run the farm now. She had died in the evening, and now Saeth would have to inform her siblings'.
Our lady refuses to be kind to us, Saeth thought looking skyward for both advice and hope. Two brothers and parents dead. Now our aunt... it cannot get any worse.
The thought of her elder brothers brought tears to her eyes. Michael and Twm had been lost to the crusades – when they had foolishly bought into the promise of King Richard of England. Michael had been lost to the disease of the holy land and Twm in battle, which in turn had brought about the deaths of her parents due to the shock of losing their two sons, although Saeth blamed a broken heart. Sam's other brother and the eldest of all the children, Robert, lived in the Yorkshire regions of England where he had made a name for himself fighting against the Norman rule although had not returned to Wales on his parents' death having insisted that his sister could cater for all their needs and if there was need he would return to her.
Her heart was lightened as she remembered her home. Adain, her mother's widowed and childless friend would have cooked something for her - perhaps a pig just to laugh at the pure expense of it, while her youngest and only sister named Rhiannon would be putting fresh rushes on the ground of the barn where they lived. She could imagine her old dog, Hawkmoor, rushing to greet her.
It was evening when she crossed the small bridge which cut slightly onto the final path home – her homestead was a half an hour walk from any near village, although the only true neighbours were the servants' and Adain whom lived in the huts surrounding the small farm. The last few steps lifted her spirits also, due to the sun beginning to sink low in the sky, tinting her skin with red, purple and yellow highlights.
Saeth quickened her place, as she watched her familiar home creep into her eye line. Despite the sad news that she would be forced to tell her family she would be glad to be rested there as she could see Adain's hut ever nearer... but wait...
Down the path raced a solitary figure, a long and straggly man, running towards her waving his hands. He pointed desperately in the direction of the woodlands, although Saeth made no effort to turn around and listen to his garbled commands. Instead she stopped, and leant on her bow-stave.
"Anwas, my old friend, what's wrong?" asked the puzzled woman, laconically.
"Turn around!" replied the breathless man. 'Turn around and go back from where you came from!'
"I have never seen you so unnerved," replied Saeth although her voice didn't hint at any concern. 'What is wrong?'
"He comes for you, Hugh de Fitzwater!"
Saeth flinched unwillingly. The name belonged to the steward of the Abbot of the Breckonshire and Powys, whom had attempted a year ago to take Saeth's hand in marriage. However, nothing had come of it, due to Saeth's late father's absolute refusal to even consider the proposal, because his knowledge of the steward's brutal nature as well as Saeth's hatred of the man whom would swear away men's lives on his masters bidding.
"He claimed today that your brother committed treason against the English crown, so now he and his men await your return."
"So he may force marriage upon me," she put her hand on her friends shoulder. 'And what of my sister and servants'?'
"The men were flogged while Rhiannon is to be to be sent to live with Lauren De Holt, that woman who's four children died under mysterious circumstances in her care, Jacob is to be hung for crimes against the English Crown, while your men await to have their right hands cut off for protecting the land." Anwas shook his head sadly. 'They protected the land well!'
"They are loyal fools, and I appreciate them all the more," replied Saeth, looking at her homestead angrily. 'And I shall rescue them!'
"We return to the Brecon Hills once more I take it," Anwas nodded sympathetically. 'But it is a suicide mission to return to your home.'
"Aye, but if I have faith in the Christian God, as well as the Celtic ones then I shall pass through this plan of mine unscathed... I will and cannot abandon my kin!"
"Saeth we must, a woman such as yourself," he paused, glancing away as her furious emerald eyes coldly studied him. 'Cannot enter such a hornet's nest!'
"I would sooner enter a hornet's nest than that godforsaken place, but I will not abandon my faithful servants' and kinfolk despite the breasts which you see!" she suddenly paused, looking at where Adain's hut door was hanging open, obviously raided. 'What has happened to Adain?'
"She was flogged too, for defending Rhiannon – I only escaped because I..." he bowed his head shamefaced. 'Hid, so that I could tell you.'
"And you accuse me of being a woman man of the wood!" she snapped, although she winced in retrospective regret at her tone toward her friend. 'You did right though... as I will as a man.'
"Meaning?"
"Wait here and thou will see!"
And with that, walking in long yet silent strides she walked into Adain's hut. After a long few moments, Saeth re-emerged although now looked completely different. She had cropped her dark brown hair around the ears, and her chest was now bound – now looking like an elfin teenage boy.
"Saeth!"
"Do not address me as that selfish one," she snapped, pulling her hood up around her head. 'I am no longer Saeth, I am a walker of paths with you, and we head to some distant land on a pilgrimage," Saeth paused. 'I am a man.'
"If this little ruse works, then it is worthy of two welsh wizards," Anwas murmured. 'It is worthy of Merlin of King Arthur, and Twm Sion Cati.'
But despite this murmur, he followed her. They walked heads bowed down the path, looking like two weary travellers, although both kept a tight grip on their broadswords as well as an easy hand waiting to grab an arrow.
"Where do they rest? In the barn?" Saeth asked as they neared. Anwas offered a low nod of his head. 'Is it bolted?'
"No friend," replied Anwas, low in tone. 'When I left to stop you, they were guarding the door. One man I mind you.'
They spoke no further as they entered the farm, and slipped into the beguiling shadows which offered a cold sanctuary. Anwas prayed to every deity he knew of in the vain hope that no one would come from the darkness, as his boots seemed to make the loudest of crunches as he crossed the ground in the direction of the barn. However, Saeth made not a single sound, and Anwas couldn't help but smile at this. She seemed to glide over the ground, like a ghost, although she had the haste of a stallion.
As they neared the homestead, Saeth could hear the sounds of drunken revelry as Hugh and his men made themselves merry on the homemade ale. If Anwas had not managed to warn her, Saeth would've walked into the house and been taken where she stood by Hugh, then impregnated and forced into marriage, if Hugh's drunken oaths and promises were to be believed. Saeth smiled in relief, and continued on.
"Is the barn guarded now?" Saeth whispered softly to her friend, although he had stopped and made no effort to answer. 'Anwas!'
"It be Hawkmoor," replied the languid yet saddened voice of the Welshman. 'I am sorry.'
Saeth tore aside her friend, and bit back a scream. The old hound was lying on the floor, mouth hanging open and blood still pouring from his fresh wound which the guard had obviously just given him. He whimpered soft and low, as the man's blade flashed in the moonlight, marred by the blood.
Saeth stood stock still, staring at the dying creature, tears running down her cheeks. It would seem at that moment that her faithful canine friend symbolised everything which was wrong in her country. As she stared at the dog, Saeth decided that she could no longer continue being a part of the customs of the Welsh King. He remained subservient to a King who was too busy fighting in his crusades and too arrogant to care for his people, and the money that this King and his weak brother bribed her King with. There was no time any more for the honest people of the land, despite their fearless nature... it was time that this was put an end to. Blind rage consumed her as she thought of the pointlessness of her previous years and of her womanly nature.
Silently she raised the bow although Anwas cursed at her. 'Saeth you cannot just kill a man?'
"And why not?" Saeth whispered before she released the arrow. 'He hath murdered. I repay.'
The whistle of the arrow went unheard until the soft thud, and the grunt of the man whose black heart it sank into. Saeth rushed from the shadows to gaze into the dogs face, it whimpered once more and made a feeble attempt to lick his mistress's hand, before he gave one heave of breath and slipped silently into the never ending slumbers. Anwas meanwhile behind her lifted the bar guarding the door, and rushed in while she cradled the dead dog in her arms – his blood streaming onto her chest before she calmly lay his head back down and crossed him. She quietly lifted her bow and fitted an arrow, silently preparing for any other man whom would exit the homestead.
Sure enough behind her, there was a brief babble of voices before they were silenced along with the breaths of horses. She cursed her idiocy and guessed that soon enough that she would become the murderer of multiple men, if the noise that was been garnered was anything to go by. However the drunken revelry continued, and no one exited the homestead. She flinched as a hand touched her shoulder, and with relief she turned to see the kind blue eyes of Adain.
"We exit by horse, it may come in handy," she whispered before looking at Rhiannon. The small child gazed upon both with innocent eyes. 'And what of Rhiannon?'
"She travels with us, if she is meant to die in fforest fawr then she shall... with her kin," Saeth responded, lifting Rhiannon onto her brother's horse. 'Each of you are to ride with another man.'
"Except me and you," offered Llewellyn-the-archer. 'We are the finest archers here and if anything shall go wrong then we will fire upon them... we managed to hide our bows and arrows, Mistress, around the camp.'
"Good and fetch as much food as possible if those vagabonds have not eaten it all!" she ordered, swinging onto her horse. 'But be quick and silent... we don't want those men descending on us tonight but in case, Jacob ride to the edge of the woodland with Rhiannon...'
"I am not a child!"
"Do as I say, there is no pleasure in killing a man as I know now, and I do not wish innocent eyes to see it!" Saeth snapped, rigidly. 'Now go!'
Silence fell as the group one-by-one vanished, Jacob with Rhiannon on the horse, Adain towards her hut to fetch some old herbal medicines, while the men went to collect their weapons and food. Only Saeth remained, listening innately for any sound of discovery, for she knew that if she reached the forest and mountain ranges then she was home free as such. No man would find her in the mountain hills or the forests if she did not wish it, but she would not be comfortable until she reached the forest land. So she heaved a sigh of relief when she witnessed each man, as well as Adain exit their huts respectively – and each begin their walk to the forest,
Saeth allowed one quiver to be fired from her bow into the door to give some indication of her presence before breaking off into the gallop crowing and yelling. She unloosed several arrows at the men whom ran yelling from the house, and this was quickly followed by Llewellyn's arrows.
They rode fiercely deep into the mountain hills with Saeth galloping ahead leading the way away from the chasing me until they lost them and almost lost themselves within the mighty heart of Fforest fawr. They all rested well in front of a dire which had been built in haste to keep any wild animal away from the small group. Jacob and Rhiannon were having their wounds tended by Adain, whom had already tended to the silent and morose men. There was no speech tonight, not even from the comfort of the woodland, Saeth noted. She had taken a brief stock of what had been gathered from the huts and had been relieved to note that Llewellyn had found more bowstring as hers had snapped as she had fired one of her arrows in her escape.
"Thank you," she broke the silence with a soft voice to which everyone turned. She sat down, and brought her knees up to her chin. 'For all that you did to protect the land as well as what you did to protect my honour.'
Adain shook her head, gently and subtly touching Saeth's arm. 'It was all we could do my lamb, but t'was only a mere wasp dancing in the face of a wolf, against those men. And they killed Hawkmoor.' It had been Adain's long dead dog, Baden, who had been the sire of Hawkmoor and it saddened the older woman almost as much it had Saeth.
"Aye, his blood smothers these breasts of mine," whispered Saeth. Anger coursed through her once more, and she stood, her eyes flashing the firelight. 'Men, you may go your own way. Go to foreign parts of this land, such as my brother Robert, he will provide shelter and warmth – like I am Queen of these forests he is master and lord of his in Yorkshire. I urge my family to go to. I, however, remain in these hills.'
There was a stunned silence for a few moments as Saeth packed only a few bits of meat which had been rescued and some black bread before lifting her bow and arrow fixing a new bowstring. She began to walk into the darkness.
"Sister," she stopped and turned to Jacob's voice as he stood and walked towards her. 'I follow you. I do not wish to return to Robert. Wales is my home, as it is yours and I follow you unto death.'
"It will be for your own safety that you flee up there to him," Saeth warned. 'The forest is of no place for changing minds if you enter this life – you cannot leave it.'
"We will follow you Saeth," replied Will-the-bowman's-son, standing and stretching although he winced at the pain his flogged back gave him. 'You saved our right hands, then we will become your rightful right hand men.'
"You will follow a woman?" laughed Saeth. 'To the death?'
"To the death, although with those bound breasts I fear I did not recognise or believe Anwas when he told me what you had done to yourself!" replied Anwar, shaking his darkened head and laughing softly.
"Then you will follow a man so that when this ruse is discovered, you can claim you never knew!" she stood true and tall now. 'I am to be called Robert or Robin if you please for the stain on my breasts for the moment. But you must promise to aid the needy and the in pain although cause as much havoc to the rich Lords and Ladies whom line their pockets with the blood and tears of those who suffer. As well as those men of the church who allow this to happen without even flinching.'
"Aye, we follow thee," each said vigorously, although later in conversation all agreed that Rhiannon would be sent for some of the year to Barnsdale as Robert had happily married a young woman and Saeth had no maternal instincts to care for Rhiannon during the winter months.
Afterwards they all rested by the fire, although Saeth left them once reassured they were asleep. With a heavy heart and a sigh, she clambered high into an Oak Tree and sat upon the tallest branches. In the distance she could make out the mountain hills, as well as the distant hamlets and villages, quietly she wondered if Aeron, the god of battle and Amaethon, the God of the land, would search upon them tonight, and care for them if the men who had pillaged her house came hunting for her. She shivered slightly at that prospect. But then, silently she raised her bow, fitted an arrow into it and fired hard into the distant night which would soon be chased away by the morning sun. There would be before long a silent yet heavily anticipated assumption of leadership but for now, she closed her eyes in the treetops and silently waited for the sun to rise once more.