"Help me!" she rasped, and collapsed just short of the raised portcullis.

For a moment the men-at-arms at the entry hesitated. Was this some clever Welsh trick? Realizing, however, that there was absolutely no one else in sight and the men on the walls had a clear view of the surrounding countryside, they ran to help the woman.

"Jesu! Mary!" the first man to reach her said. He looked down at the poor creature, who was scrawny to the point of being starved, and black-and-blue with many a severe beating. The man-at-arms didn't know what to do, and stood helplessly looking down at the woman.

"I'll go for Fulk," his companion said, and ran off leaving the first man with the woman.

"Help me," the woman said piteously, reaching out for the man-at-arms, who jumped back nervously.

"Sim’s gone for the captain," he managed to say. "He'll help."

The woman nodded weakly, and laid her head upon the ground.

Fulk came running with the other man-at-arms. Looking down at the woman, he shook his head. "An escaped slave," he said wearily. Bending, he lifted the woman’s head. "You're a slave?"

"No more," the woman said with distinct meaning.

Fulk shook his head despairingly "Will they come after you?"

"I don't know," the woman answered. "I think I killed him."

"Well, let’s hope you did, lass," Fulk said, "or if they think it’s worth their while, they'll be after you soon enough. What’s your name?" Reaching down, he helped the frail woman to her feet.

"Arwydd" came the reply.

"Welsh? You speak good English for a Welsh girl," Fulk noted.

"My mother was English, from Hereford" was the answer.

"How did you end up a slave?" Fulk began to walk the girl slowly through the portcullis into the manor enclosure.

"My mother was taken years ago. Her captors raped her, and I was born. The man whose slave she became named me. She be dead many years now. He killed her when she objected to his interest in me. I was eleven when he first used me, the pig!" Arwydd spat weakly.

"Is he the one you killed?"

"Aye," the girl replied. "He thought it would be amusing to share me with his friends. They did everything to me that a man can do to a woman. So when he was drunk several days ago, I slit his throat and ran away. I haven't eaten in three days, sir, but what berries I could find, and I was afraid to eat most of them, for fear I'd get poisoned. Please, help me!"

"I'll take you to my mistress," Fulk said. He didn't know if the girl was to be believed or not. She was battered and bruised enough to be sure. She looked as if she had been starved for years, and she probably had been. Her story had a certain ring of truth to it, yet she worried him. She did not quite meet his eye when he looked at her. Was her sudden arrival some clever Welsh trick? He would advise the lady, and he would watch this wench carefully.

He brought her to the lady Eleanore, where Arwydd told her story again. Fulk took his mistress aside while old Ida and Willa took Arwydd off to bathe her. "I don't entirely trust this wench, my lady," he sad quietly. "There is something about her that doesn't seem quite right. I cannot help but wonder how she ended up here at Ashlin when we are so far off the beaten track."

"Perhaps God directed her to us, Fulk," Elf said quietly. "She is fearfully wounded. God knew I could help her regain her health."

"Perhaps, lady," Fulk answered. He always wanted to shout with despair when the lady spoke so sweetly. She still did not fully realize how cruel and fierce a world it was beyond the boundaries of Ashlin and St. Frideswide’s Convent. "Heed my words, however, lady," he pleaded with her. "Listen to all the girl says, but do not trust her, I beg you. It is too dangerous to trust a stranger in these times."

"While I prefer to look on the brighter side of life," Elf told her captain, "I am not quite the simpleton you believe me to be, Fulk." She laughed when he flushed. "I will heed your words, I promise," she attempted to reassure him.

He bowed to her, then went about his duties.

"She’s thin as a sapling, lady," Willa said coming back into the hall. "Old Ida has bathed her, gotten the nits from her hair. She’s black-and-blue all over, though. How anyone could be so cruel to so frail a lass, I do not know."

"Has she said any more?"

Willa shook her head. "Naught, but to thank us for our kindness."

"We'll keep her with us until she heals," Elf decided.

"I agree," Willa said. "Poor lass has never known kindness."

Arwydd was settled into the household. Within a few weeks she had lost her pallor and showed signs of gaining weight. Her bruises were beginning to heal, fading from black to purple to yellow, brown, and green, to finally just the faintest shadow before they were completely gone. While Arwydd’s face was round and plain, there was a certain prettiness to it. Her blue eyes grew lively with her returning health. She was set to doing light tasks after a few days, and she did them well. Her greatest talent, however, seemed to be in the arranging of flowers. She loved them, and filled every container she could with the blooms from garden and field, which she mixed freely. Elf encouraged her, for the truth was, she liked Arwydd’s flowers and told her so.

Fulk found it interesting that no one came looking for the wench. Surely her murdered master had someone who cared, yet no one arrived at Ashlin in search of Arwydd. This concerned Fulk greatly. He became convinced she was a spy, probably for the Welsh, yet the girl did nothing that he could deem suspicious. Still, instinct nagged at him, so he kept on his guard. He asked Arwydd once who her mother’s people had been in Hereford, but Arwydd claimed not to know, so he couldn't send the wench along to blood kin, and thus be rid of her.

August came, but they did not go to the Lammastide Fair this year, for with the Welsh raiding, it was considered too dangerous. September came, and by month’s end the harvest was almost all in, but for the orchards, which would take several weeks of picking. On Michaelmas roast goose was served to everyone on the manor, serf and freeborn alike. The servants were paid their wage for the coming year. Several days afterward, however, a man dressed in servant’s garments arrived at Ashlin to tell them that the convent of St. Frideswide’s was under siege from the Welsh bandit, Merin ap Owen. The abbess had sent him to Ashlin to beg for their help before they were all killed.

Elf was horrified. "You must take a troupe of men and go at once to help them," she said to Fulk.

"Do you know this fellow?" he demanded of her suspiciously.

Elf shook her head. "But it does not matter," she said. "He wears the abbess’s badge, and many of the servants were old at St. Frideswide's. He may have replaced one."

"Aye, lady, I did," the man quickly spoke up. "I am the son of Walter, who tended the pigs."

Elf could not remember the swineherd’s name, but he had been an old man and this man could indeed be his son. Besides, the convent was being attacked, and they had to help him. She fixed a challenging look on her captain. "There is no reason for this man to come here and claim the convent is under siege if it isn't. You will take a troupe of men, and go to St. Frideswide’s now, Fulk. Drive the Welsh off, and secure the convent for the abbess. If necessary pursue the enemy, and destroy as many of them as possible. May God have mercy on their wicked souls! You have your orders. Go, now!

Something was wrong. Fulk sensed it strongly, but she was the lady, and he could not defy her. He had to obey. He bowed. "Aye, my lady," he told her, "but keep the gates locked both day and night until I return. You must promise me you will do it, my lady. You must promise!"

"I will do it, Fulk. Have no fear, for we will be safe," she reassured him gently. She understood his dilemma, but they had to help St. Frideswide's. There was no choice in the matter.

"You will come with me," Fulk told the messenger.

"Aye," the man agreed calmly, but his demeanor did nothing to restore Fulk’s confidence in the matter. Something was wrong!

Fulk and his men rode posthaste the miles separating Ashlin from the convent. Reaching St. Frideswide's, they discovered its outbuildings burning, its flocks and cattle gone from its fields. They banged upon the gates, and a voice called to them, "Depart you godless Welsh! In the name of Christ, depart!"

"It is Fulk from Ashlin come to help, Sister Perpetua," the captain called in a strong voice.

A small square of the gate opened like a tiny window, and the nun’s face shone in it. "Praise be to God!" she cried. The square closed with a slam, and a few moments later one side of the gate opened to admit him.

"Remain on guard here and chase off any Welsh you find," he told his men, then entered into the convent courtyard. "Where is the abbess?" he asked the portress.

"In the church with the others, praying."

Fulk refrained from a pithy reply, instead nodding and thanking the nun. He headed directly for the convent church, crossing himself reverently as he entered, his boots thumping noisily. "Reverend Mother," he said. "The lady Eleanore has sent me from Ashlin to help you."

The abbess arose from her knees, and turned to face the captain, relief showing plainly on her usually composed features. "Captain Fulk, you are most welcome," she told him, and together they walked from the church, leaving the others behind to continue with their prayers.

"Tell me what happened?" he asked her as they traversed the cloister slowly, rain just beginning to fall.

"It is the Welsh, of course," the abbess said wearily. "They have been taking our flocks and herds by bits and pieces for the past few weeks. Today, however, they fired the buildings outside our walls and slew whoever of our serfs they could find. Those poor souls who had remained at their posts to see the cows were milked and the harvest brought in on time… although I am certain it has gone off with the Welsh, if they didn't burn it, too. What we will feed ourselves, our remaining people, and our animals with this winter, I do not know. Then the Welsh were as suddenly gone as they had come. There isn't a sign of them anywhere, as you can see."

Fulk’s mind was contemplating the situation. If the Welsh had been outside the convent’s walls for several weeks, why did the abbess wait until today to ask for help? He began to consider if he might connect Arwydd’s arrival at Ashlin with the Welsh marauders' arrival at St. Frideswide's. "When did the Welsh come, Reverend Mother?" he asked.

The abbess thought a long moment, and then she said, "It was about six weeks ago. They came over the hills without any warning one afternoon. The gates were open, and several of our maidens and younger nuns were outside the gates. Sister Perpetua saw them first, and rang our alarm bell. Those outside the gates barely made it back into the safety of our walls, but praise be to God, and His blessed Mother, they returned unscathed. The Welsh made no attempt to break in then. They spent their time driving away our livestock in small groups and taking everything that wasn't nailed down. Only in the last few days did they make what to me seemed to be but a halfhearted attempt to batter in our gates, but our gates are extremely strong, being reinforced with iron straps. Today they fired the buildings outside, and departed," the abbess concluded.

Fulk’s brain was beginning to throb with apprehension and foreboding. He knew the answer to his question even as he asked it. "Then, why, my lady abbess, did you send your swineherd to Ashlin asking for the lady Eleanore’s aid?"

The abbess looked at him, surprised. "I did not send my swineherd to Ashlin, Captain Fulk. I sent no one to Ashlin. The danger was over, and other than the loss of our livestock, some serfs, and some buildings, the convent and its residents were safe, praise be to God. While I am relieved by your arrival, I did not send for you. Captain! Are you all right?"

The color had drained from his face. "A man came to Ashlin claiming to be the son of Walter, the swineherd here at the convent. He said he had escaped with your contrivance, and the convent needed our help. The lady did not recognize him, but she sent us anyway, against my better judgment. She feared for you all, and now I fear for her, as I know the man who came to Ashlin was a Welsh agent."