Branches lashed Iola's face as the stallion galloped beneath her. Her throat throbbed and lungs burned as she struggled to breathe, being thrown from one side to the other. Matilda's arms were clenched around her body in a death grip.
'Woah,' Iola attempted, leaning back, pulling on the reins.
Melynlas eventually slowed, puffing hard. The night was an inky black, with nothing but the light of the moon to illuminate their path. Iola's eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, but the stallion seemed to know where to go, dodging trees and skirting the underbrush.
'Where are we?' cried Matilda, who was also breathing heavily.
Iola was going to answer that she had no idea, but thinking that may frighten her friend, decided to say nothing.
'Did you know those men?' she eventually asked as Melynlas picked his way through the forest.
'Of course not!' Matilda was thoroughly rankled. Eventually she added, 'I might have recognized them as the thieves your brother caught, but I couldn't be sure by torchlight.'
'What were they thinking, storming into Caer Dathyl like that? My father will have them turning tail as quick as you please,' Iola said.
The night was cold, their shared breaths curled out of their mouths like smoke around them. Iola wished she'd brought a pair of woollen gloves. Her hands were starting to shake from the cold. Dropping them, she wrung her fingers into the stallion's mane.
'We should turn around,' Matilda pressed. She was shivering. 'I'm sure the attackers have been chased off. And I am certainly not dressed for adventuring in the woods.'
Iola looked around her for some sign of where they were. Her eyes were only beginning to adjust to the dark; tall pine trees were slowly becoming more visible. She'd not known what direction Melynlas had run, and she'd not had great experience hacking through the woods. Worry gnawed at her stomach when she realized they were likely well and truly lost.
'It might be better to camp here,' Iola said, pulling on the stallion's reins.
'Here?' Matilda shrieked.
'Calm yourself,' Iola said in a hushed voice. She slid out of the saddle. 'We won't know who else is out here.'
Matilda leaned forward to pull at Melynlas' bridle. She clucked her tongue. The stallion did not move.
'It would be easier if you just accepted we won't be going back tonight.' Reaching into a saddle bag, Iola rummaged around for a blanket.
'I just mended these slippers as well. The fine leather will be ruined.' Matilda sighed heavily as she watched Iola bed down in the dark. They would have to share a blanket.
Both girls jumped at the hoot of an owl. Melynlas shook his mane as if to chasten them. Frowning, Matilda sank to her knees, helping Iola to spread the blanket out. They huddled together, pulling the edges around each other. For a moment, Iola was reminded of the two of them sharing a bed on a trip to Caer Dallben. Her mother had threatened them with extra chores for staying up late giggling.
'Your feet are like ice!' Iola hissed as they struggled to get comfortable on the hard ground.
'It's freezing out! We'll be lucky not to catch our death.' She paused a moment. 'Not to worry, as I'm sure there's been a search party sent for us.'
Iola chewed on her lower lip, considering Matilda's words. 'I suppose your are right, it's for the best.' Then she added: 'What did that man say to you?'
Matilda was blunt in her reply. 'A map,' she said. 'Whatever for I have no idea. Such a strange thing. Perhaps he was referring to the Prydain tapestry in the throne room?'
'Perhaps,' Iola answered. It would be too much to explain to Matilda now. The worry came back to eat at her stomach.
What have the boys gotten themselves into? she wondered.
Matilda chattered on nervously for a little longer before eventually falling asleep. Iola watched the stars move through the canopy of trees. Her breath was coming in slow, painful inhalations. She coughed a little, trying not to wake her companion.
Eventually, she too drifted off to the sound of Melynlas' soft huffing and Matilda's light snoring. She did not dream that night.
Waking to the cold morning dew covering them, Iola stood, shaking dirt and twigs off her tunic.
'Good morning,' Matilda said. She sounded trite.
Looking over, Iola struggled to hold back laughter. Matilda's hair had come out of it's braids, and with the remnants of a flower crown in her hair, it looked more like a pair of birds had tried to build a nest in it.
'I am not sure what's so funny,' Matilda said, 'especially since our source of transport has left us.'
'What?'
Annoyed, Matilda simply threw her arm toward a circle of imprinted grass and green foliage, where Melynlas had been the night before. The grey stallion was gone.
Owain was toying with an old parchment map while Gareth readied the horses for another day of journeying.
'Owain,' Gareth said gently, 'stop looking at that thing and come saddle your horse.'
The companions had stopped under the boughs of a tall oak tree for the night to make a sparse camp. They woke feeling warm and well-rested. Rhys was hoping they would make it to the foothills of the mountains before dark. Gareth was much more conservative in his estimates. Despite the differences in opinion, they were in good cheer and happy to be outside Caer Dathyl's tall walls.
Rhys was tightening Melynwyn's girth, ready to swing up on his mare's back. 'Owain, we'll be here all day.'
'I just wanted to mark the pond here,' Owain murmured to himself, fingertips darkened with a bit of charcoal.
Gareth's tall hound, Gelert, had been sniffing around the campsite all morning, flushing birds from trees. He dropped a stick at the boy's feet, which Owain took no notice of.
When the hound whined to Gareth, he started tacking up Owain's slight little mare himself. Rhys shook his head, reaching into a saddle bag for more bread.
The three companions nearly jumped out of their skin when a loud whinny broke into their camp.
'It's Melynlas!' Rhys called.
The stallion was agitated, snorting and pawing at the ground. He was wearing a saddle, the stirrups hanging down on either side. 'What's gotten into him?' Gareth asked, stepping forward to pat the great stallion on the shoulder.
The palfrey tossed his mane and backed up a few steps. Then he turned and trotted back into the woods, breaking a rough trail as he went.
'Could it be father?' asked Owain.
'Not sure,' Rhys answered. Putting his foot in the stirrup, he settled himself in the saddle atop Melynwyn. 'I'll go and catch him.'
Squeezing his legs against Melynwyn's sides, he followed the stallion into the thicket. Did his father come out looking for them and was beset by bandits? It seemed highly unlikely, as the King rarely rode out without a sword at his side and a retinue at his call.
They had scarcely gone a hundred paces before he heard the sounds of two people arguing. Melynlas, calmly cropping at the foliage, flicked his ears back and forth, listening. Leaning forward in the saddle, he found he recognized the high lilt of the voices.
'There! I see Melynlas!'
Rhys watched as both Iola and Matilda came bounding up a little slope, pushing branches out of their way. Iola at least, was dressed in a sensible pair of trousers and a tunic. Matilda still had on her party dress, though the sleeves had been ripped and its blue skirt was stained with dirt.
'Well, well, well,' Rhys said, urging his grey mare to Melynlas' side. 'What do we have here? A pair of runaways stealing the King's horse. That's a serious offence.'
'Rhys!' both shouted at the same time. Iola was going on about a map and Matilda was begging him to take her to Caer Dathyl.
'I can't hear myself think with the two of you speaking like that,' he said. 'Come with me for now, while I decide what to do with you.'
'Very well,' Iola said, leading their father's horse to a clearing so she could mount more easily.
'Goodness,' Matilda said as she settled herself behind Iola, 'whoever would have thought I'd be happy to see you?'
They were upon the rest of the company after a short ride. Gelert barked excitedly as the ladies dismounted.
'What drove you here?' asked Gareth. 'Curiosity get the better of you?'
Before Iola could respond, Matilda interjected: 'Caer Dathyl is under attack!'
Rhys started, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. 'What?'
'It was not a full scale attack,' Iola said, narrowing her eyes at Matilda. 'There were a few men. They wanted to know something about a map.'
At that, Owain finally ceased his scribbling. He looked up from the parchment and toward Rhys. Matilda was shrewd enough to catch the glance.
'You know what that man was talking about?' she questioned.
'Caer Dathyl can withstand an attack from a few men. Many cantrev lords were present for the festival, they'll be at father's call if he requires them,' Rhys said quickly, hoping to deflect away from Owain's guilty expression.
Of course, it did not work on Iola. 'I want to see the map you have.'
Owain's hand went to his neck. Iola walked toward him, smiling sweetly. 'Won't you let me see what you've been up to?'
'The first place she's taking it is the throne room,' Rhys said. 'Iola, you need to go back, it isn't safe for you here.'
'Says who?' Iola shot back.
'Yes! For the first time in his life the Prince is talking sense!' Matilda said, placing a hand on Iola's shoulder. 'We should get you home, before-'
'We are not going home,' Iola said. 'We don't even know the way. One of you would have to come with us. And,' she added, 'father knows his horse is missing by now. It's better to press on, rather than have him find us and be twice as angry.'
'Oh he'll be angry regardless,' Gareth murmured. He went back to Owain's mount to bridle her.
'Positively fuming,' Matilda added.
'Better to show up with something to give him,' Owain said. He thoughtlessly padded his chest.
Iola, impatient, bowled the boy over. Pressing her knees against his legs, ignoring Owain's shouts, she reached under his tunic to reveal the pendant. Pressing her brother's cheek into the dirt, she wrenched the chain up and over his head.
'Get off!' he yelped.
Iola stood, examining the piece of jewellery. She was rendered quite breathless after the burst of activity. Matilda put a hand to her elbow reassuringly.
'It doesn't look much like a map,' she muttered to herself.
'You don't know how to use it!' Owain cried. He reached for it, but Iola moved more quickly, yanking it out of his reach.
'This is why you should spend more time at sword practice,' Rhys said, 'and less time holed up with your precious scrolls.'
Matilda grabbed the pendant from Iola. 'I cannot see at all what the fuss is about,' she said, an air of disdain in her voice. 'And I cannot possibly understand why the four of you ungrateful, selfish-'
'Look!' Owain gasped out, pointing at the pendant.
In Matilda's outstretched hand, the red ruby glowed, as though it were lit from within. The company crowded around its dim light, struck speechless. Matilda dropped the pendant with a sharp intake of breath. The light winked out.
Gelert barked excitedly and nosed the gold chain. Gareth was the next to pick it up and examine it. 'Well, that's certainly a neat trick,' he said to Rhys.
'What did you say the ruby represented?' Rhys asked his younger brother.
'Caer Dathyl,' Owain replied. 'Here, hold it again, Tilly.'
'This is ridiculous,' Matilda said. 'We really should be going-'
As soon as the gold touched her palm the ruby lit up again. The companions stared. After a few moments, it seemed to fade.
'See?' she said. 'It's only a trick of the light.'
Matilda took a step back, and the ruby suddenly shone once more.
'Wait,' Rhys said, 'walk forward a few steps.'
Matilda did as he asked and the ruby's fire faded.
'Now this way,' he said, leading her in the opposite direction.
The ruby's light seemed to shine brighter. Running a hand through his hair, he pulled Owain's map from the pocket of his trousers.
'Look,' he said, 'it glows brighter when it goes in the direction of Caer Dathyl.'
'Strange,' murmured Iola, watching as Matilda walked back and forth.
'You mean to say,' Matilda said, her countenance brightening a little. 'That this will show us the way home?'
'It appears to be that way,' Owain said. He snatched the pendant from Matilda. As soon as he did, all light went out. Holding it aloft in the sunlight, he examined each precious stone carefully.
'Why will it only light for her?' he asked, more to himself than anyone else.
The companions each took turns passing the artefact back and forth, examining the jewels closely. It would only light for Matilda, and after an hour or so, it seemed it was only growing more faint.
'Perhaps we need to get closer to the Eagle Mountains,' Gareth suggested. 'Then perhaps the diamond will light.'
'Yes,' Rhys added with renewed vigour. 'A good idea. We'd better get a move on, we've wasted precious time here.'
'Agreed!' Owain added, unhitching his horse's reins.
'Iola, you cannot be serious,' Matilda hissed. 'You know that-'
'You're welcome to try to find your way back to Caer Dathyl,' she said with a smile. 'Otherwise I'm afraid the boys are stuck with us.'
Matilda's hands closed into fists. 'I don't suppose you have anything suitable for me to wear?' she asked, gesturing to her ruined dress.
'As a matter of fact…' Iola replied, reaching into her saddle bags. She tossed Matilda a tunic and pair of trousers.
Rhys couldn't help sniggering a little as he watched her eye the clothing suspiciously.
'There's a stream a little down the way,' Rhys said with a wink. 'If you wanted some privacy.'
'You owe me a new pair of slippers,' Matilda said, turning toward the forest, her voice deathly calm. 'And a dress!'
