Gwenllian promised she would, and handed the box to Davydd to stow in the baggage. She stood awkwardly, not knowing how to say goodbye until it looked like Suzanna would make a courtesy. That would not do, nor would the firm clasp she was used to giving her men, so she did as her mother was wont to do whenever Gwenllian took her leave. Taking one of Suzanna’s hands in hers, she placed her other palm full on the side of the girl’s soft, freckled face, then kissed her cheek. “Be well,” she said, their cheeks pressed together. “Go safely.” With a sudden burst of feeling, she said, “I never thought to make a friend here.”

Their cheeks still pressed together, Suzanna answered softly. “Never did I think to find courage enough to speak to you, so fierce is your aspect, but I am full glad that I did. God watch you on your journey.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Use the mounting block!”

Gwenllian did give a brief laugh at that, but she dutifully guided her horse over to the block and mounted with some attempt at elegance. She waved a final farewell to her young friend, but did not look back at the castle. How different this was than what she had imagined. Never had she thought she would leave the king and still travel with Ranulf of Morency, that she would ride even farther away from her home, that her life would be so fundamentally changed with a single court visit.

The road was a fine one and they made good time. Two minstrels would travel with them as far as the abbey tonight, and were merry company. The shoemaker and his wife, who would stay with them as far as Colchester, bickered endlessly. They were joined along the way by a man from a nearby village, who would come to Morency as farrier. She rode with Davydd silent by her side, and of long habit kept her eyes on the trees and fields and the men who carried arms. They were alert and watchful, these men who served Morency.

Her husband rode at the head of the party. He did not ride beside her, or speak to her or look at her, even when at last they arrived at the abbey. They were fed a fine supper, and the minstrels sang, and all the while they sat like strangers to one another.