The Silver Witch

‘A miracle or your tender nursing,’ I find I have the strength to tease him, at least.

‘In me our prince found the person he could most trust with your safety. And I’ve dressed more wounds on the field of battle than any other living, I’d wager. And that’—he indicates my injury with a wooden spoon—‘well, you did not come by that falling from a tree or stumbling in a rabbit hole. Handle of some sort, most likely a sword hilt. Though how you came to be engaged so closely to one who wanted to kill you that he could not use the blade is another mystery.’ He turns his attention to the stewpot suspended above the fire, stirring the contents with some effort, so thick and uneven are they.

I force myself to remember the events of that night. The snow. The riders. Their murderous intent. And the Afanc. Tears of gratitude come without warning. I know how she guards the secret of her existence, and yet she risked discovery for me. My sniffing brings an anxious glance from Hywel, so that I wipe my face with my blanket quickly, lest he think me a flimsy child. I become aware that beneath the blanket, save for a grubby tunic, I am naked. Has Hywel really tended me all these days and nights? He is a good man, but to have him be so intimate … But I am being foolish. His skills have saved my life as surely as the Afanc’s appearance saved it earlier. ‘I am in your debt,’ I tell him.

‘There is nothing I would not do for the prince. You, of all people, know what that means,’ he replies without looking at me. He hands me a bowl of stew and a spoon.

‘Yet it was to my benefit. And I am grateful,’ I say. ‘And thankful that Nesta did not put a hand on me!’

Hywel regards me closely now. ‘You do not trust her?’

‘Her loyalties lie with her mistress.’

‘As they should.’

‘So long as the princess’s loyalties are also correctly placed.’

He ponders this statement for some time while I chew the gray meat that swims in the oatmeal broth in my bowl. An attempt has been made to disguise its flavor with the liberal use of garlic. I recall the lavender. ‘Tell me,’ I ask him, ‘do you burn lavender on the fire?’

‘Burn it? No. I used an oil infused with the flowers and leaves. To speed the healing of your head wound.’

‘I am impressed.’

‘A soldier who can keep other soldiers alive is more likely to live to see old age himself,’ he explains. I might have questioned him further on his remedies but the door opens and Prince Brynach steps inside. Hywel scrambles to his feet, but the prince barely notices him the moment he sees that I am awake. Even in the firelight I can see he is tired and troubled, but his face is transformed with a broad smile now.

‘You have decided to rejoin the living,’ he says, coming to sit on the floor beside my bed.

‘Only for Hywel to try to kill me off with this terrible stew.’

Brynach laughs, but Hywel bridles. ‘I am expected to be cook as well as nurse and protector! Ha!’ Muttering about, needing some air to breathe and snow to piss in, he goes outside.

‘It gladdens my heart to see you well,’ the prince tells me, taking my hand in his. There was a time I would have pulled back, but such closeness with death has, perhaps, made me keener to savor life’s sweeter moments, so I let him hold me, let him softly caress my hand with his fingers.

‘I wonder that you do not find yourself … repulsed … having seen me as I was,’ I say, trying but failing to imagine his shock at seeing me shifting before his eyes.

‘I have always said you are like no other, have I not? Why, then, should I not accept all the strangeness that comprises you? I care only that you are returned to health. Despite Hywel’s cooking.’ He smiles.

‘He is a skilled healer.’

‘I have seen him bring back men from the brink of death. And I knew he would let no further harm come to you.’ He hesitates, then goes on, ‘Seren, did you see who it was? Did you see who attacked you?’

‘They wore helmets with visors or crosspieces. And they did not speak. Nor did I recognize their horses. But … well, it was not the men who sought to stove my head who wished me dead. That is, not beyond doing the bidding of whoever sent them.’

‘But who would wish harm to you? Why?’

‘Answer the “why” and you will have the “who.” There are those who see me as an obstacle in their path to greatness. If they remove me, they have an easier route to you.’

‘Me?’

‘I warned you, there is a traitor among those you name loyal.’

‘You cannot believe Wenna had a hand in what was done to you!’

‘The princess came to me, a short while ago. She asked me to help her.’

‘Asked you?’

‘It was indeed a measure of her desperation. She … she wanted to know if she would ever give you an heir.’ He draws back a little from me now, his face glum. ‘I sought answers to her question in a vision.’

‘And what did your seeing tell you?’

Paula Brackston's books