The day was unusually beautiful, the sky above them a clear blue, the sun shining brightly, the air warm with a definite feeling of spring. It was the first time in days that Elf could remember the sun shining. She considered it a wonderful omen, although perhaps not for Isleen de Warenne, who was to be hunted down. Where had she gone? Elf wondered. But no matter. If Merin ap Owen did not catch her and kill her, she would still have to face God’s judgment for her wickedness. She put Isleen from her mind.

"Merin ap Owen thought my lord might be near, Sim. Do you think it is so?" Elf asked her man.

"Aye, lady, he is. I am surprised we have not come upon him yet," Sim answered her. "I thought surely he would be at Gwynfr’s gates by dawn, but, perhaps finding me gone off the verge yesterday, he divined my purpose and is waiting a reasonable time for my return."

They rode on for a short time, and then over a hill they saw a party of riders coming. Elf strained to see, and then with a whoop she kicked her mare into a gallop, riding straight for the oncoming men. Sim immediately recognized his Ashlin companions and smiled. His lord moved out in front, pressing his own mount forward at a faster pace until the two parties came face-to-face, and the mingling horses skidded to a stop.

Ranulf de Glandeville was off his horse in a flash. Reaching up, he pulled his wife from her mare and wrapped her in a hard embrace. "I love you," he whispered fiercely into her ear. "I love you!" Then he kissed her hungrily, desperately drinking from her lips like a dying man wasting away from thirst.

Breathless, Elf finally pulled away from the kiss, looking up at him, her face filled with pure joy. "Why did you not tell me this before," she demanded. "I ached to hear you say those words, for I love you so damned desperately, I thought I would die from it!"

"You love me?" Now his look became one of surprise.

"Aye, I love you, you big oaf! How could I not love a man who treated me with such delicacy and gentleness?"

"Then, why did you not say it?"

"Because I thought a sophisticated man of the world such as yourself would scorn such words. I feared you would feel obligated by them, and despise me for a romantic fool. I had gained your respect and your trust. I did not want to lose them by softly prattling of love," Elf told him. "Why did you hesitate to say these words to me until now?"

"I did not think you could love a man who took you from the life you loved and had always thought you would live," he admitted. "But, Eleanore, I think I loved you from the first moment I saw you in the hall at Ashlin, so kind and so thoughtful, seeking so desperately to save your brother’s life. I never thought to have a real home or a sweet woman to care for me and bear my children. Then there was the king giving me this incredible gift of you. I feared if I told you of what was in my heart, you would not believe me. I feared you would disdain me, think me a fool who but attempted to gull you so I might more easily have your body. I feared the loss of your friendship, petite." His knuckles lightly grazed her cheek, brushing away the single crystal tear upon it. "Do not cry, petite. We are together once more. I shall never allow you to be in danger again. You will continue on to Ashlin while I go to Gwynfr to destroy it. Merin ap Owen shall not pillage the countryside this year, or in any other year to come."

"Nay," Elf told him, her hand on his arm.

"Have I cause for jealousy, then?"

"Walk with me, my lord, and allow me to explain," Elf said. "I am not certain whether I should be flattered by your jealousy, or offended that you would think me unfaithful to you, Ranulf. Come." She took his hand, and they moved off across the fields while she spoke earnestly to him, explaining that it had been Isleen de Warenne who had been the instigator of the plot to kidnap her. "Make no mistake, my lord, Merin ap Owen is deserving of his reputation, yet he treated me with courtesy, and aye, even kindness while I was in his charge. He protected me from Isleen’s attempts to harm me. In his own way he is an honorable man. Isleen, disguised as Merin ap Owen’s courier, yesterday took the ransom from Sim and has disappeared. That is why I was not returned to you then. Sim is very brave, Ranulf. As it grew near sunset, he rode on to Gwynfr. It was then the deception was discovered. Yet this morning Merin ap Owen freed me to return to you. He is not all wicked, and he has given me his word that Ashlin will not be disturbed again."

"You believe him?"

"Aye, I do," Elf said quietly. "You must trust me in this, Ranulf. I was Merin ap Owen’s captive for four months. There is a side to him he does not show to others, except perhaps his longtime servant, Gwyll, who looked after me. There is goodness in him, Ranulf. I slept in an alcove off his bedchamber all those months because he feared that Isleen would hurt me given the chance. His apartments, however, were not open to anyone but Gwyll. I was safe there. Not once did this man attempt to accost me in a lewd manner. I could have been back at St. Frideswide's, for that matter, I was so safe in his charge."

Her words troubled him, but Ranulf knew his wife would not lie to him. It simply was not in Eleanore’s nature to lie. "What did you do during the day?" he asked her, curious.

"Gwyll and I found an old loom and a tapestry frame. We put them by the fire, and I kept myself amused in that manner. Before the winter set in, I gathered roots and plants to make a store of salves, lotions, and medicines for the castle. They had none at all. I showed Gwyll what he is to do in the future," Elf finished.

Ranulf laughed. He simply couldn't help it. It was so very typical of his wife’s sweet nature and kind heart. "I suppose you mended the Welshman’s clothes for him, too," he half teased her.

"Aye, I did," she admitted. Then she giggled. "There are no women, even servants, at Gwynfr Castle, my love; and Isleen was certainly not about to repair the poor man’s tunics. I could hardly have my captor going about looking shabby."

He roared with laughter. "Petite," he told her, "I most certainly do love you with all my heart and soul. You are quite unique, my Eleanore."

"The lord Merin has gone after Isleen, Ranulf. He will, I suspect, have a difficult time finding her, for she could have gone in any direction. Gwynfr is already a half ruin. Leave it be, so that when, or if, he ever returns home again, what is left of Gwynfr will be there to shelter him. Let us go home and see our son, my lord. I think it is past time we gave him a brother." She smiled up at him.

Ranulf nodded in agreement. How could he refuse her request? He really could not. Merin ap Owen had almost beggared them, but he had his wife safely back.

They walked back to their horses, where the others awaited. Now the lord of Ashlin noticed Arwydd. "Who is she?" he asked.

"Her name is Arwydd," Elf began.

"The wench who betrayed Ashlin?" he demanded, his brow darkening.

"The very same," Elf replied calmly. "She is to be my new servant, my lord, and I will hear no more about it. Arwydd made a bad mistake. She was compelled to serve a wicked mistress. She repents of her own ill judgment, and she has done us both a great service. Arwydd knew about our son. Yet she helped me to dry up my milk before I reached Gwynff, and she never told either her mistress or the lord of the castle of our child. What do you think Isleen would have done if she had known we had a baby, Ranulf? All the devils in hell could not have prevented her from going to Ashlin and stealing our son away. Arwydd prevented this tragedy by remaining silent. She deserves a second chance, and I mean to see that she gets it. She is freeborn, and she has a good heart, Ranulf. She served Isleen faithfully, and her reward was to have her mistress desert her. She will be loyal to us, I guarantee it."

"It would seem I can deny you nothing, my lady wife," he answered her.

Elf stood upon her toes, and kissed him lightly upon the lips. "Thank you, my lord," she said as he then lifted her into the saddle.

Ranulf mounted his own horse.

"Are we going after the Welshman, my lord?" Sim asked him.

"Nay," Ranulf replied, and then briefly explained to his men the reason for his decision. "Ap Owen has gone after Isleen de Warenne. He is punished if he catches her, and he is punished if she eludes him, I am thinking," he concluded. "Let us go home!"

By late afternoon they were well over the border and into England again. The day remained fair, and the countryside about them empty but for their party. For the next three days they traveled back to Ashlin, camping at night in the open, for so desolate was the countryside that there was no religious house for them to shelter in, or even the rudest inn or manor house. Each night the horses were staked within a crude enclosure of brush, and a huge fire was built to keep away any predators. They were a large enough party to be safe from bandits. They ate what they could catch, and the bread they carried with them.

Finally in early afternoon of the fourth day, they topped a rise, and there below them was the manor of Ashlin on a near hill. Elf’s heart beat faster, and with great happiness, for sometimes in the darkest night she had wondered if ever she would see her home again. At the look upon her beautiful face, Ranulf reached out and took his wife’s hand in his for a moment, squeezing it gently. Their eyes met, and she smiled.

"Simon will not recognize me," she said.