"Do you think he will be able to help me find those other girls if I inquired?"

"Oh Aye. He kept the three lasses here together while your father was healing up from his injuries. Your father was in a bad way, I recall. But your mother was a gifted healer. You do not look so much like her, but you have her way about you." Matilde smiled and added, "His Lordship found husbands for all of them."

"Then he will surely know how I might find them. Mayhap they can tell me more of my mother or her kin..."

"I know that he will be able to help you find at least one of the maidens. As for the rest, well, I would not be getting yer hopes up high, but it is a good place to start if you wish to find your kin."

"Thank you, Matilde." Gwyndolyn set down the bundle of herbs she had tied for drying and impulsively hugged the woman.

"Och!" she sputtered. "None of that mind. Now be off with you."

Gwyndolyn laughed as she promised to return for her herbs and went off to inquire of her family.

---

If the baron was surprised to learn who Gwyndolyn's mother was, Gwyndolyn was utterly speechless upon learning that the baroness, the Lady Alexandi, was one of those young maidens!

That eve, she and the children were invited to join the Baron and his wife for their evening meal. Normally they dined in the great hall, but the baron decreed this was a special occasion and they were dining privately in a separate room.

"Catherine was young when she was first brought to the Abby, but she was old enough to remember her home. She never met the relatives that sent her away, but I shall write for news of the family on the morrow. Mayhap we shall find that your family is ready for reconciliation."

"I cannot tell you how happy I should be to know my mother's family. But I should not like to leave here..."

"There is no need child. Norbert has made me aware of the situation. If your family wishes it, they may come to you here. I shall say that I cannot bear to be parted from you. From what Catherine told me of her family, they will leap at the chance to claim further acquaintance with nobility."

"I know that I must sound foolish, as I keep saying this, but...this really is most generous of you." Gwyndolyn said into her lap as she fingered a thread at the edge of her sleeve.

"We are practically family, in more ways than one it seems." The baron declared with a bold grin. "I have always held a father's affection for Erec, and now that you are w—"

The baron grunted as Lady Alexandi stomped on his foot and cast her eyes at the children. Gwyndolyn witnessed this and nearly choked on her drink. When she was finished coughing and begged their pardon, the baron tried again.

"I was saying, as you are going to be wed to Erec you are practically family and now we find that your mother was as dear as a sister to my sweetest Alexandi. It is all very fortuitous."

Gwyndolyn reached for her goblet and hid her smile by taking a long sip, being extra careful not to choke this time. The children were appeared lost in their own little conversation. Gwyndolyn smiled at their youthful innocence.

That night as she tucked them in to their new beds, Robin made a startling revelation.

"Do you think Lady Alexandi will find our family?" He asked as she tucked the covers around him.

"She may. But you have nothing to fear. I will always be your mum and when Erec returns for us, you shall have a father and a sister as well, and you shall live in his castle and we shall all be very happy."

"The baron is looking for his family too."

"Oh?"

"A messenger brought him some scrolls and there was a letter and it told him to look for his family because he may find he is related to an ancient king. Marek or Norek or maybe it was Bartek. I forget. But it would be pretty neat if he was related to an old king, would it not?

"Indeed, it would." Gwyndolyn agreed and kissed him goodnight before moving to say her goodnights to Sofi. Sofi had her input on the night's conversation as well and as Gwyndolyn left, she was surprised at how much of the adult conversations the children had absorbed as they seemed entirely uninterested and pre-occupied at dinner.

As she closed the door behind her and crossed to her own door, she wondered what old king might be related to the baron and she determined to ask Matilde about it in the morning. The old woman had been here forever it seems, and she knew everything there was to know about the castle and the people in it.

---

As he rode, he resisted the urge to turn and look back. Strong as they were, he needed to put his feelings for his new bride out of his head. He was lucky once, when he first arrived at Brecken and lost his head to heavy drink—but that was in the safety of the Baron's home.

Erec was headed straight into a den of ravenous wolves and with these moony-eyed feelings filling his thoughts, he was more of a lamb than a soldier. Indeed, if he could not find a way to clear his head, he would never become an old soldier and Gwyndolyn would be widowed...again. He smiled at the irony and then shook his head.

"What troubles you my lord?"

"My w...the Lady Gwyndolyn."

"Ah."

"What do you mean, Ah?"

"She is a lovely distraction. But if you cannot find a way to keep a clear head, you may lose it entirely—not in love—but severed."

Erec frowned. "And that is the crux of my problem, for I do not wish to forget her—and yet it seems I must."

---

Erec frowned. He told Gwyndolyn that he expected to travel slower going home than he had going north. Their number now included three prisoners that required constant vigil and in addition to the armory wagon that they carried north, there were extra wagons loaded heavily with plundered goods and supplies.

Spring arrived in their absence to the north, bringing with it sunshine and rain to melt off the snows. It was a boon for a farmer, to see the winter's end and know spring planting was nigh. But it was misery for a traveler, turning rough roads into sodden messes filled with deceptively deep puddles. Their heavily laden wagons moved tortuously slow through the mire.

Erec looked to the sky and his frown deepened. He half-hoped that either they could keep ahead of the rain, or that by some divine providence, it might turn away from them. It was not to be, however, and as a low rumble rolled across their line, he called an early halt. Spurred by their desire to remain dry, the men made short work of erecting their camp and building up the fires.

John appeared while Erec stood watching the sky as the clouds erased both moon and stars from view.

"Milord?"

"John," Erec turned, Help me off with the armor, will you?"

The dress armor gifted him was not a pauldron, but rather full breast plate. Though he was still not wearing full armor, he wore much more than the three bits he normally wore for feasts and ceremony. The metals in his new armor were heavy. It was meant for short ceremonies, not for battle and certainly not for several days in the saddle.

"Are you certain, milord?" John stared hard at his captain and friend in the flickering light of the single torch.

"Aye. I am weary to my marrow and we have a long-muddied road ahead."

"A long difficult road." John agreed without moving to assist, "Aye, milord. And it is a long road that you must ride with a target upon your back."

Erec sighed and once more questioned his decision. Normally plate armor was for joust or battle. And it was never worn for so long a stretch of unbroken time. Three days past, his men assembled in full armor. They made quite an impressive sight riding away, loaded as they were with their spoils and provisions.

Their army stretched out in a long line of lethal potency. The sight was meant to inspire a sense of security and protection as much as it was meant to deter potential thieves. After the first day, only he and his lieutenants remained in their armor. The rest had stripped down to chain mail and surcoat only.

"I still believe that true, John, but I cannot endure under this burden and remain at my better most. Bring my own Pauldron, vambrace and coulter. Take all of this away from me."

John's reply was only a long-suffering sigh as he set about working the various buckles and ties, removing Erec's dress armor piece by piece.

Erec felt some measure of relief with each piece removed. Champion. Protector. Royal Guard. Soldier. Captain. His death-bed promise. The bittersweet parting with his new bride. All of these pressed heavily enough upon his broad shoulders without the added weight of the armor. This present situation did not ease his burden at all...quite the contrary.

After a long day's ride under the added weight of the armor, both he and Zeus were weary. As the last of the armor was lifted, Erec let out a sigh and rolled his shoulders.

"Shall I assist with the chain mail, milord."

"Nay. Let the other lieutenants know they may reduce their armor to chest plate only if they wish."

Erec had little need to encourage his men to remain in their mail. The only reason a soldier on campaign removed the mail—or leather armor—was to bathe. And that was a rare luxury when marching.

Erec moved to the front and stood, watching the play of light as the moon tried to shine through the ever-thickening clouds. A gentle rain fell, but he was under no illusions that it would remain so gentle.

"Milord."

"Drew." Erec beckoned.

As commander of this army, he was afforded the courtesy of walls and a cot. Crude as it was, the cot kept him out of the mud that would plague the camp in the next minutes, and no doubt would follow them for the rest of their journey. Lightening flashed as if to punctuate his thoughts.

With a sigh Erec sank to the cot and gestured to Drew to join him. Declining the seat, Drew stepped out of the rain. Too tall to stand erect, he stooped as much as his armor would allow, just managing to keep his head from rubbing against the tent roof.

Drew was second only to Erec in rank and ability. His friend stood looking uncomfortable in his dampened armor with the drops of rain glistening like jewels in the flickering light of the torch.

"What is it?" Erec asked, sensing the tension radiating from his friend.

"Do you think it wise to remove your armor?"

"I think neither Zeus nor I shall be fit for battle if we are both weary from the continuous weight of it. In deference to our rather precarious situation, I have ordered my pauldron with vambrace and couter. With the mail, it will be enough while we ride. But you may remain in full armor if you so wish it."

Drew's jaw clenched as he gave a curt nod.

"You disagree?"

"Truly?" Drew hesitated. Erec nodded. "I am not certain what to think anymore. I thought we were targets before the barn. After the Knights Circle, you convinced me that we ride with honourable men, yet the fact remains that the king wants to be rid of you and he cannot easily do so, at least not obviously."

"Cautious as serpents."

"Aye but we have no use for innocence."

"You have something else to say." It was not a question.

"Well that you know me, milord." Drew chuckled as he sighed and took a seat upon a milking stool.

It was decidedly small for his large frame, Erec thought with a smile as his friend folded himself up, but it was probably more comfortable than standing stooped.

"We were long away from Brecken Moors Hall. Yet there was no reply from the king. I wonder now if we did right by bringing those three back with us."

"You would have them remain behind?"

Drew shook his head and shrugged before he went on.

"I think we need vigilance more now than at any time previous on this journey. The natural inclination of the men is to enjoy our victory. As you well know, milord, on any other campaign that is precisely what we do. If our foe is one that we see as friend, this normal behavior will be known to him...which makes this the ideal time to strike."

"With the added spoils and the tribute, we do make a tempting target for bandits as well. Our enemy may strike, take the spoils for their own, and proclaim to the king that bandits absconded with his treasure."

"Or worse, they could claim that arranged the attack and absconded with the treasure."

"That would put me outside Hugh the Great's protection, but they cannot blame the theft on a dead man, and they cannot claim their reward if I am not dead."

"That is the awful irony in such a treacherous plot. If you are dead, you will be hunted to the ends of the earth. You land, title, and wealth all forfeit. The people will hate you as badly as Hugh the Lesser. Yet since you are dead, you and the treasure simply disappear. Our enemy will have a treasure that is far greater than their promised reward to spend at their leisure."

"Your plot has one flaw. Hugh the Lesser has a nasty temper and if he thinks that I thwarted him and made off with is treasure, he will kill them for their failure. But since you have obviously given the matter much thought, what do you suggest?"

"I know not which is best, my lord. To maintain our vigilance and deny the men their celebrations until we return, or to continue to appear as though we suspect nothing."

"If there is an enemy among us, and I am certain that there must be, I have no more knowledge of whom it could be now than I did at the start of our journey. The men have proven themselves worthy in battle and as we have already discussed are of good reputation."