the long run. As the threat of trouble eased, the stall holders stayed to guard their merchandise. Some of the bolder shoppers paused their flight and stood looking back at the square, as if deciding whether or not to return. There’d be no riot after all.
By the time her would-be rescuers reached her, Alyssa had already jumped down from her improvised rostrum. Men in orange surcoats surrounded her.
‘This is the fellow who felled the gwerbret’s spy,’ the dark-haired lad said to her. ‘The marshals saw him do it.’
Cavan’s stomach twisted. Gwerbret’s spy? He’d done it, all right, gotten himself into deep trouble without thinking twice.
‘We’ll hide you in Wmm’s,’ the lad continued. ‘They won’t dare come into our hive.’
Alyssa turned and gave Cavan a glowing smile. ‘You felled him good and proper,’ she said. ‘My thanks! I do wish I’d gotten to finish my speech, though.’
‘And an excellent beginning it was,’ Cavan said. ‘I wish I’d gotten to hear it all.’
Cavan started to bow to her, but she reached up, laid her hands on either side of his face, and kissed him. The students around them whooped aloud and laughed. Cavan felt that kiss run through his body, as hot as a sword thrust. He would have taken another, but she stepped back into the safety of her knot of women friends.
‘There’s your hire, silver dagger,’ the dark-haired lad said, grinning, ‘but ye gods, we’ve got to get out of here!’
Cavan glanced over his shoulder and saw more marshals shoving their way into the square from the southeast alley.
‘They’ve blocked the cursed way out of the square,’ Cavan said. ‘Where can we—’
‘Into the baker’s,’ Alyssa said. ‘There’s a back way out between the ovens.’
In the midst of a mob of students, Cavan followed Alyssa. She yelled orders, gathered her troops like a captain, and led them on the run to the downhill side of the marketplace. Farmers swore and grabbed hens and produce out of their way. Hogs squealed in excitement as they passed, dodging through the rough wooden stalls. Ahead lay a row of proper shops. Alyssa waved and pointed. Her troop poured into the doorway of a bakery.
The smell of fresh bread perfumed the warm, moist air. To one side of the dimly lit room stood a long wooden table, piled with loaves. The young baker, draped in a flour-dusted apron over his shirt and breeches, looked so much like Alyssa that Cavan knew he had to be close kin, a brother, most likely, from the way he spoke to her. She was common-born, he realized to his surprise. Somehow he’d thought that a women of her sharp wits must come from a noble clan.
‘You’ve done it this time!’ the baker snapped. ‘Don’t you ever learn?’
‘Oh, hold your tongue, Alwen! We’re just passing through.’
‘Very well, but hurry! I don’t want the wretched marshals in here!’
She laughed, blew him a kiss, and led the way round the table to an open door. The door led to a short stairway, which in turn led to a huge room, as hot as a blazing summer day. Four big brick ovens stood like beehives on one side, while firewood lay piled up on the other. Between them stood a wooden door, guarded by a lad of perhaps ten years. He too looked much like Alyssa.
‘Arwy,’ Alyssa snapped, ‘shut the door after us!’
‘I will.’ He scrambled out of the way. ‘But Da’s going to be so mad. He told you last time—’
‘That was last time. This is different.’
Alyssa lifted the bar and shoved the door open to sunlight and the over-ripe stink of Aberwyn’s fishing-boat harbor. The mob of students and one silver dagger rushed out into the sunlight. Cavan could see the stone towers of the Collegium rising over the alleyways and stone houses no more than half a mile away. Distantly from the market square he heard shouts of rage mixed with taunting laughter.
‘No sign of the marshals,’ the dark-haired lad said. ‘No doubt the men from King’s are keeping them busy. My name’s Rhys, by the by.’
‘And mine’s Cavan. My thanks for your aid.’
‘You’d best come back with us. The Collegia have immunity, you see, and they won’t dare follow you inside.’
‘Splendid! But I’ve got a horse stabled at my lodgings.’
‘We’ll fetch him after dark. Now let’s hurry!’
Once they reached the safety of the Collegia grounds, Alyssa had a moment to think. Not only had she gotten into trouble with the town marshals, she’d kissed a silver dagger right out in a public square. Her usual taste for such wild adventures disappeared when she considered what Lady Tay might say about both dangerous missteps. At the door to Wmm’s Scribal’s hive, everyone paused to catch their breath. Rhys ducked inside and came out again with an orange surcoat, which he handed to Cavan.
‘For a day or two you’d best be one of us,’ Rhys said.
‘My thanks!’ Cavan put the surcoat on and pulled it round to cover his silver dagger. ‘I hope the marshals have short memories.’
‘I’ll hope and pray,’ Alyssa said, ‘that the men from King’s will fill their memories with less than pleasant thoughts.’ She dropped Cavan a curtsy. ‘My thanks again!’
He bowed to her. ‘It would gladden my heart to see you again.’
‘If you’re in residence here, no doubt you will.’
With Cavan safely hidden in Rhys’s collegium, Alyssa hurried back to her own hive. She walked into the women’s great hall to find Lady Tay standing by the cold hearth in a state of sheer fury. She was talking with the two chaperones, and she punctuated her words by slapping the tiny roll of pabrus she held in her right hand against her left palm. Alyssa stepped toward the wall to stay out of the lady’s line of sight, but Tay saw her before she could sneak upstairs.
‘Alyssa!’ Lady Tay called out. ‘I have unpleasant news for you.’
Alyssa was so sure that she was about to be sent away that she felt sick to her stomach. In the spirit of a hound who’s stolen meat from the table, she slunk over to the three ladies and curtsied to all of them.
‘We’ve heard about Cradoc’s remains,’ Lady Tay said. ‘The gwerbret’s refusing to give them over to anyone but his kin and clan.’
‘What?’ Outrage mingled with relief, both so profound that Alyssa had to gulp for breath before she could continue. ‘Forgive my discourtesy, my lady! But Cradoc has no living kin or clan.’
‘Precisely! And I’d wager high that our ever-so-noble lord knows that as well as we do.’ Lady Tay shook the pabrus roll vaguely in the direction of the gwerbretal dun. ‘This message came from Malyc Penvardd but a few moments ago. He’s composing a flyting song, he tells me. His journeymen will make sure it goes out with the mail coaches for the entire kingdom to hear.’
‘Will that matter to Gwerbret Ladoic?’ Werra put in.
‘I doubt it, but what
