"I shall place her in the household of Prince Mohammed's favorite. The girl is sweet natured but has no older woman to properly guide her. Nilak should do quite admirably," he concluded wryly. "Come now. We haven't much time, my lady Noor. The evidence of your demise has already been placed below your terrace. I am grieved you had to cut your hair, but it will grow back." He led her from her quarters through the dimly lit corridors of the palace.

To her surprise they passed no one, not even the guards. "I want Sir Fulk," Rhonwyn said suddenly.

"He will surely expose the life you have lived here," the chief eunuch said.

"Even so, I cannot in good conscience leave him behind," she replied. "Besides, I intend to tell my husband everything."

"He will either not believe you or spurn you, Noor, but as your heart is good, I anticipated your request. The knight awaits you with your brother and his two men."

"How are we to leave Cinnebar?" she asked.

"You are joining a caravan headed for the coast," Baba Haroun told her. "You will be at Carthage in a week. From there you are on your own, but you will manage quite well, I suspect." He stopped suddenly and began counting the tiles upon the wall. Then he pressed against one and a door sprang open in the wall. "The passage is straight," Baba Haroun said. "It is just a few feet. Come, I must light your way." He disappeared into the dark passage, and she followed, starting as the door closed behind her. Within a minute or two, however, another door opened ahead of her. She could see several dark figures. She hesitated, and then she heard Glynn's voice.

"Rhonwyn, hurry!"

She turned to face the chief eunuch. "Thank you," she said simply, and then moved past him to join the others.

"Go with Allah, she heard him say, and then the door closed again behind her.

"Come on!" Glynn said. He took her hand, and they hurried off.

"Where are we?" she demanded of him.

"A back alley outside the palace walls," he said low. "Now be silent, sister, else the guards on the heights hear us."

"Where are we going?" she whispered.

"To our lodging to complete your disguise," he told her, and then she was quiet.

They finally reached a small house, entering it quickly so as not to be seen by any in the street. Rhonwyn flung off her cloak and hugged her brother first, then Oth and Dewi. She turned to Sir Fulk, who appeared to be in remarkably good health.

"You were not mistreated?" she queried him.

"Nay, my lady. I was set to instructing the young prince in the arts of war. I am treated very well. I have even learned enough of their tongue-twisting language to get by quite nicely. I am grateful for your help, but I don't want to come with you."

"What?" Rhonwyn was very surprised. "Why on earth not, Fulk?"

"In Cinnebar, my lady, I hold a position of importance as the heir's military instructor. I am a younger son and can never hope to attain such worth or influence in England as I have here. The caliph's son likes me, and I like him. We are not so far apart in age. I am his senior by only six years. I believe I shall have greater chance for advancement here in Cinnebar than if I go home to England. My parents are both dead, and I have but two elder brothers. There is no lass who waits for me. I came with you tonight because Baba Haroun said you would not believe him if he told you these things. He did try to dissuade you from taking me, didn't he? But you, he said, would insist. He likes your sense of duty and loyalty."

"But how will you get back into the palace, Fulk? You are a slave as I was," Rhonwyn said in a worried tone.

"The young prince freed me months ago," Fulk explained. "He said a slave should not be teaching him the things he needed to know. I can come and go in and out of the palace with impunity, my lady."

"What am I to tell your brothers?" Rhonwyn asked him.

"That I died bravely defending you, my lady," Fulk said with a small smile. "The truth, we both know, would but bring them shame. That a brother who went so nobly off on crusade to free the Holy Land from the infidel, but then joined the infidel, would be more than they could bear or understand. But I must do what is best for me. Here in Cinnebar I can practice my own faith without fear of reprisal, which is more than any Jew or man of Islam can do in England. I wish you Godspeed, my lady." The young knight bowed to her as he kissed her hand. Then he turned and departed the chamber.

"At least my conscience is clear," said Rhonwyn slowly. She turned to her brother. "Where is Edward?"

"I saw him last in Acre," Glynn responded, "but there is something I must tell you, Rhonwyn. Edward truly believes you are dead. He is preparing to marry his cousin Katherine de Beaulieu when he returns to England."

"Then we must get to Acre quickly," she replied.

"Nay," Glynn said. "We must return to England so that you will be at Haven awaiting your husband when he returns. The lady Katherine is a sweet woman, but her brother, Rafe, is a hard man. They must be dispossessed and returned to their own manor. You are perfectly capable of husbanding Haven until Edward returns to England."

"And just how am I to force Rafe to give up his hold on Haven?" she demanded of her brother.

"Our tad will aid you if you ask him, sister. This is no time to be over-proud, Rhonwyn," Glynn said bluntly.

"Better we go to Acre so Edward sees me and does not believe it is a hoax played upon him," Rhonwyn said.

"Nay! For once, sister, do what is asked of you and do not be willful. This is what has gotten you into difficulties all along, doing what you wanted instead of what was right and expected of you. Edward is angry that you dashed into a battle. He is angry that you were captured and lost him one of his knights. He will believe nothing of you but the absolute truth, but I fear his angerwhen he learns you have known another man. It will take every bit of your strength and knowledge to convince him that he should not disown you," Glynn told her earnestly.

"I love him," Rhonwyn said as if her love could solve the problem. "I know he loves me." But having heard what her brother reported, she was now not so certain of her husband's love. How could he have given her up for lost so easily and made plans to marry Katherine de Beaulieu? She was confused as to what to do, and then Oth spoke up.

"Better you be at home awaiting him like the wife he wants you to be than suddenly appearing before him in Acre, lady."

"Are you certain it would not be better for us to go to Acre, Glynn?"

Glynn nodded his dark head. "We must go to England as quickly as we can, sister," he told her firmly. "Now, you need to get ready to travel. Our caravan leaves at first light. There on the shelf is a bowl, a rag, and two pitchers. The large pitcher contains a dye for your skin. You must cover your entire body with it. Our host's daughter will do your back for you, but you will dye your hair black with the contents of the smaller pitcher. Your clothing is laid out on the chair. Pantaloons, a shirt, a vest, and boots. You already have your cloak. Be careful with it, and do not lose it. Baba Haroun has sewn a cache of gold coins in a secret pocket for you."

"Why must I be totally dyed?" she demanded, sniffing at the pitcher. "The stuff smells foul."

"It won't once it's on. You are too fair, Rhonwyn. You have not the look of a young man used to the outdoors, and you must. If your pant leg rode up and your white skin were seen, or if you squatted to pee and your bare white bottom were visible, it would give the game away. I know it must be difficult taking orders from your little brother, but please, for all our sakes, do it! Dye your hair first so the girl who helps you afterward does not know your hair's true color. It is for her safety," Glynn concluded.

They left her. Rhonwyn sighed. She had cut her hair so that it now bobbed at the level of her chin. Hopefully it would grow quickly, and by the time Edward returned home it would be a respectable length once again. Rhonwyn stripped naked, and finding the pitcher of black dye behind the larger pitcher, she poured it into the basin, mixing it with a tiny bit of water, and then dipped her head, her fingers moving rapidly through her scalp to completely cover her tresses. She then rinsed her hair with clear water and hoped the transformation was complete, for she had no glass or metal mirror in which to check her efforts. She quickly began rubbing the brownish dye from the larger pitcher into her skin. When only her shoulders and back remained white, she called out, and almost immediately a young girl entered the chamber.

"Here, lady, let me finish the task you have begun so well." She took the rag and began smoothing the dye down Rhonwyn's back and across her shoulders.

It took a moment to sink in, but Rhonwyn suddenly realized that the girl was speaking in the Norman tongue. It had been many months since she had heard it, and she wondered if she could still speak it herself. She and Fulk had spoken together in Arabic, and her brother and Oth had spoken in the language of the Welsh. The words, however, came easily when she tried. "You speak the tongue of the Franks," she said.

"My father-this is his house in which you are now standing-is a merchant. I am his only child and help him in his business. Sometimes I even travel to Carthage. I speak several languages."

"You speak well," Rhonwyn noted, and then said nothing more.

When the dye covered her skin completely and had dried, she dressed. The merchant's daughter had departed the chamber with all the evidence of Rhonwyn's disguise. She was pulling on her boots when her brother entered and looked her over with a critical eye.

"You've bound up your breasts?" he asked.

She nodded and stood up for his final inspection.

"Have you found the secret pocket in your cape?" he asked her.

"There are actually two," she told him, "and both are well hidden and well filled. 1 will keep my cape with me at all times."

"Good! Now, here is our story. I am the minstrel and entertainer. You are my brother and one of my musicians, along with Oth and Dewi."

"What instrument do I play?" she teased him.

"The tambourine," he said seriously. "That way if we must perform, you cannot make any error. Any fool can play the tambourine."

"Thank you," Rhonwyn said dryly.

"We are ready to go," he told her.

"You have become so serious, Glynn," she said to him.

"We are not yet out of Cinnebar, sister. I will not rest until our feet are once again on good Christian soil, nor should you," he explained. "I am angry that Edward de Beaulieu gave you up so easily. He looked for you for only several days before following Prince Edward to Acre. I told him you were alive! I felt it! But none of them would listen to me, Rhonwyn. Now it is my duty to return you to Haven Castle and to your husband. I will do what that fine knight of yours could not. I will bring you home!"

Her eyes filled with tears. "You are a man," she said softly.

"Aye," he agreed. "Now, sister, let us go. Do you know what today is? It is the eve of Christ's Mass. With luck I shall have us home by Midsummer's Eve, possibly before. Come now!"

They traveled by caravan to the coast, taking a ship from Tunis to the port of Cagliari on the island of Sardinia. After several weeks in Sardinia they found a vessel that was sailing for Aigues-Mortes, in the kingdom of Languedoc. As it was winter the seas farther north were not safe, and so they decided to travel overland to Calais, crossing over into England from there. They purchased horses in Aigues-Mortes. The beasts were serviceable, but not so fine that they would be stolen by any except the most desperate. Glynn also purchased a sword for his sister and a dagger as well.

Their Arabic garb was bartered for the more conventional clothing of the region. Rhonwyn exchanged her pantaloons and vest for chausses and a tunic that came to her calf. She retained her sherte, her cloak, and her boots. The roads were never really safe, and so they traveled with various trains, paying their way with their songs. It took many weeks to reach the French coast.

In the month of May, however, they finally arrived at Calais. There was no difficulty in obtaining passage aboard a vessel crossing the channel. Selling their horses, they paid their passage, reaching Dover on the following day. There they once again purchased mounts for their journey north and west across England to Haven Castle, traveling still in their guise as musicians. In Worcester Rhonwyn sent her brother into the market to see if he could find a fine gown. Even he understood that she could not arrive at Haven with her skin brown and in chausses. The dye had long since worn off her hair, and her tresses were growing, having reached her shoulders once again.