Steal breath from a baby, we were stunned.

We had come all this way prepared to bargain, plead, fight tooth and nail for the return of our lands only to be tossed lightly onto the midden heap like so much dung. It beggared belief, I can tell you. Though Bran tried to get the canon to see the thing as we did, and though the cleric sympathised in his way, Laurent could do nothing. The king had allowed him no room to wiggle; there was nothing for it but to take the money and go.

Red William is every inch as much a rogue as any of his bloody barons, no mistake. The king's knights escorted us to our horses and accompanied us back down the hill and through the town to the river wharf and our waiting ship. We rode in silence all the way, and my own heart was heavy until we came in sight of the Dame Havik at her mooring-and then I remembered Noin. Suddenly, I cared no longer about the doings of the high and mighty. My sole aim and desire was to see my love and hold her in my arms-and each moment I was prevented from doing that was a moment that chafed and chapped me raw. From the instant I set foot on the deck of that ship to the day I stepped off it and onto solid English earth once more, I was a man with an itch I could not scratch.

When on that fine, sunny day we bade our friend Ruprecht farewell and took our leave a little lighter in the pocket, to be sure-for we paid that Flemish sailor well for his excellent and praiseworthy care-it was all I could do to keep from lashing my poor mount all the way back to Elfael. I counted the quarters of the days until I at last saw the greenwood rising in the distance on the slopes of the ridge beyond the Vale of Wye, and then I counted the steps as I watched that great shaggy pelt bristling beneath a sky of shining blue and my heart beat faster for the sight. S'truth, only the man who has journeyed to far distant lands and returned to his native earth after braving dangers, toil, and hardships aplenty can know how I felt just then. I was seized by joy and flown to dizzy heights of elation only to be dashed to the rocks again with the very next thought. For as glad as I was to be going home, I was that afraid something might yet prevent me reaching the one I loved. All saints bear witness, our little company could not move fast enough for me. I fair wore out the goodwill of my companions long before we reached the blasted oak at the entrance to Cel Craidd.

When I came in sight of that black stump, I threw myself from the saddle and was halfway to the lightning-riven oak as through heaven's own gate before I noticed someone standing there.

"Noin?" I could scarce believe my eyes. She was there waiting for me!

"Is that you, Will Scarlet?" Her voice held a quiver. Surprise? Uncertainty? But she made no move toward me.

I stepped nearer, my heart beating high up in my throat, and put out a hand to her. "It is…," I replied, unable to speak above a whisper just then. "It is Will come home."

She regarded me with an almost stern expression, her eyes dry. "Have you, Will? Have you come home at last?"

"That I have, my love." I stepped nearer. "Now that I see you, I know I am home at last."

As many times as I saw this glad reunion in my mind, I did not see it this way. She nodded. I saw her swallow then, and guessed something of what this confrontation-for such it was-cost her. But she did not back down. She held me with her uncompromising gaze. "I have to know, Will," she said, "if you've come back to stay. I cannot wait for you any longer. I have to know."

"Noin, my love, with God as my witness, I will nevermore part from you."

"Don't!" she cried. "Don't you say that. You don't know."

"What do you want me to say?" I asked. "If it is a pledge you seek, tell me what pledge you will accept and I will give it gladly." As she considered this, I added, "I love you, Noin. I loved you every blessed day I lay in that dark hole, and if I could have come to you even a heartbeat sooner, I would have been back at your side long ere you knew I'd gone."

She bent her head then, and her long hair fell down around her face. I could see her lips trembling.

"Noin," I said, moving closer. "If you no longer want me, you have only to say the word and I will leave you be. Is that what you want?"

She shook her head, but did not look at me.

I raised my arms and held them out to her. "Then come to me, my love. Let us return to the happiness we once knew. Or, if that be not possible anymore, let us begin a new and better joy."

When she raised her head this time, I saw the tears streaking her fair cheeks. "Oh, Will…," she sobbed. "I've missed you so much… so much… I did not dare to hope…"

She came into my arms, and I crushed her to my chest with all the strength I did possess. I held her and felt the hardness in her melt away as she clung to me, her tears soaking into my shirt.

"Will dear, sweet Will, I'm so sorry," she said. "I had to be sure. I couldn't live thinking… forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive. I am here now, and I love you more than ever I did the day I left."

"And will you yet wed me?" she asked, looking tearfully into my face.

The sight of those tears glistening on her cheeks melted any shreds of dignity I might have had left. I sank to my knees before her and clasped her around the waist. "Marry me, Noin. I want you so bad it hurts my heart."

The words were still fresh on my lips when I felt her arms encircle my neck; she raised me to my feet, and her warm lips bathed my scruffy face in kisses. "Noin…," I gasped when I could breathe again. "Oh, Noin, I will never leave you. I swear…"

"Shh," she hushed. "Don't speak, Will. Just hold me."

I was happy to do that, no mistake. We stood there in the heart of the greenwood clutching one another so tight we could hardly draw a breath between us. And we were clinging still when the others reached the riven oak where we stood. They dismounted, and Bran let out a wild, withering screech. Instantly, the Grellon began pouring up out of the bowl of Cel Craidd to greet the return of their king and kinsmen.

The next thing I knew, I was half pulled, half pushed through the oak and tumbled down the hillside into the bowl of our hidden settlement. At first glance, everything appeared just as I remembered it-only it was early summer now, and I had left in the dead of winter. Still, all was as it should be, I reckoned, until I began to tell the little differences. The forest folk were right glad to see us, but there was a hollow sound to their laughter, and their smiles, though genuine and heartfelt, held more pain than pleasure. The faces gathered 'round us were greyer than I remembered, the bodies thinner. Winter had been hard for them, yes, and spring no better, I reckoned. Many were gaunt, with skin pinched around their deep-set eyes; their clothes were that much more tattered and frayed; the dirt on their hands and faces was there for good and always.

My heart went out to them. I had endured captivity in the sheriff 's odious hellhole, but they were no less captive here. The wildwood of Coed Cadw had become as much a prison as any that the vile de Glanville held key to. It was clear to me then, if never before: this sorry state could not be endured much longer. God willing, our bold King William would soon give us redress, and Bran and all us forest folk could move out into the light once more.

In amongst the young 'uns I saw little Nia's face poking out. I turned and scooped her up. She did not cry out, but twisted in my arms to see who held her. "Weo!" she squealed, grabbing my beard with both hands. "Wee-o!"

Bless her, she was trying to say my name. "It's me, dear heart. Ol' Will is here."

From among the flock gathering to greet our return, I glimpsed Angharad, hobbling forward on her long staff, her wrinkled face alight with pleasure. "I bid thee glad homecoming, William Scatlocke," she crowed, her old voice quavering slightly. "The Lord of Hosts is smiling on this day."