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fetch herbs for me to make a poultice?” Rhodri asked.
    â€œI will,” Branwen said. “Watch the horses while I am gone.” She glanced at Blodwedd. “Don’t let her scare them away. And don’t trust her.”
    â€œLook for comfrey and wormwood,” said Rhodri. “Lobelia is also good, if you can find it. Oh, and mullein. Do you know it?”
    Branwen nodded. “A tall-stemmed herb with leaves covered in hairs,” she said. “It has yellow flowers with five petals.”
    Rhodri smiled. “You make a fine herbalist’s assistant,” he said.
    â€œMy brother taught me much woodcraft before…”She set her jaw. “I will not be long,” she said. “Watch her!”
    Branwen headed into the trees. The sooner she returned with the things Rhodri needed, the sooner he could deal with Govannon’s messenger—and the sooner they could be on their way again.
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    It took Branwen longer than she’d hoped to gather the plants Rhodri had asked for, and the sun was two handbreadths above the eastern horizon when she finally came running back to the clearing with her hands full of leaves and flowers.
    She had half feared to find Rhodri sprawled on the ground with his face raked by claws, and the owl-girl and the horses gone.
    Instead, Blodwedd sat cross-legged in the middle of the clearing, gazing up wide-eyed and smiling at Rhodri, who was leaping around in front of her, waving his arms and clearly telling an exciting tale.
    â€œA Saxon warrior was coming at us, bellowing like an angry bear,” Rhodri was saying with high animation. “‘ Gehata! Bana Hel! ’ he shouted, which more or less means ‘You’re my enemy, and I will kill you and send you to the kingdom of the dead!’ He had a sword as long as a roof beam, and I didn’t have so much as a stick to defend myself with! ‘Get behind me,’ Branwen shouted, and I can tell you, I did just that! Then Branwen and Lady Alis stood side by side on the hill. And Lady Alis called out, ‘Death to theSaxons! Let us strike as one, my daughter!’” Rhodri slapped his hands together. “And in the blink of an eye, that Saxon devil’s head was rolling down the hillside like an apple from the branch!”
    Blodwedd laughed. “Ha! That is a good tale! And did you feast on his flesh thereafter?”
    For a moment, Rhodri stared at her with his mouth half open. Then he blinked at her, swallowing hard. “Uh… no …,” he replied, his forehead wrinkling in distaste. “We don’t do that.”
    â€œThe Saxon had an ax, not a sword,” said Branwen flatly, finding herself rather disturbed by Rhodri’s friendly behavior toward the owl-girl. She walked up to him and thrust the leaves and flowers into his hands. “And my mother said, ‘Strike as one! The throat! Strike as one!’” She glanced at Blodwedd, whose smile had vanished. “The rest is as Rhodri told you.” She looked at him. “Where are the horses?”
    â€œPerfectly safe and very close by,” said Rhodri, his face a little red, although Branwen could not tell whether the coloring was from the exertions of his recent playacting or from embarrassment at being caught entertaining the strange owl-girl. “I found a small stream with fresh grass growing beside it. They will be comfortable there…till we are ready to leave.”
    â€œAnd how soon will that be?” Branwen asked.
    â€œSoon,” said Rhodri, giving her a slightly uneasy smile. “You did well,” he said, looking at the spoils ofher long search. “You even found lobelia. Splendid. All I need now is water and a couple of flat pounding stones.” He looked at Branwen. “I have been telling Blodwedd about the battle at Garth Milain.”
    â€œSo I heard,” Branwen said dryly. She pointed at Blodwedd, keenly aware of the poisonous looks