Page 19 of Cadell the Dragon

Johanna felt the injustice of the situation deep in her bones. She also felt ill at ease, because, well, because the inescapable fact remained. She was English. The people at Bryn Glas could probably have welcomed her more warmly, but she understood the resentment they might feel toward her and what she represented. The older ones, like Cadwgan, would remember a country free of invaders, and they would understandably long to go back to that time. That sentiment was shared. Rhun had never had any issues finding men to fight alongside him in his forays.

“I’m sorry for what the English did to your country,” she mumbled.

“Don’t be,” Cadell said roundly. “It’s not as if you were responsible for any of it.”

“No. Still.” She paused, then told him something she had thought many times since the day before but never imagined she would dare tell him. For some reason, now seemed the right time to do so. “You remind me of a dragon, you know. I know the dragon is a strong symbol of your country and I understand why when I see men like you.”

He appeared stunned for a moment, as well he might, and then he threw her a dazzling smile.

“This is by far the best compliment I have ever received, thank you. I’m flattered.”

Johanna smiled back, pleased to have found the courage to give him the unusual compliment—the best he had ever received, apparently.

As she entered the great hall, she saw that the trestle table had been laden with bread and cheese. No doubt, Cadell had been the one ordering the food to be brought before he’d come to find her in the solar. The spread, modest as it was, was a very welcome sight. She had been too nervous to eat earlier, but she now felt relaxed enough to break her fast, and ravenous, not having eaten the previous night.

Before she could even sit down, he poured her a cup of ale and handed her a slice of bread smothered in butter, which she accepted gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Tonight, we will tell everyone what your priorities are,” he declared, buttering some of the bread for himself. “The replenishing of the storerooms will have to be one. I’m sorry I could not get anything other than this very basic fare for you this morning.”

“It’s perfect,” she assured him, before biting into her bread.

“Then tomorrow we will go see Lord Sheridan at Castell Esgyrn. Connor Hunter is like a father to me, or rather, to Siaspar, who is like a brother to me.”

Oh, Heavens. “Almost a father.” “Like a brother.” Did he not have any real family to rely on? Was he as lonely as she was? Earlier, he had told her that he had lost his estate. It would seem that he was in an even worse situation than she was, having lost his home, his status, and his family as well.

“Why do you want to go see Lord Sheridan?” she asked instead of dwelling on the dispiriting notion. It seemed unfair that a man like him, helpful and generous, should be unhappy.

“I want to ask him a favor that will not cost him much. No doubt he will have servants we could bring here if we promise to replace them with local people. Everyone speaks English in his household and they have been treated well.” He paused, as if to make sure she understood what he was saying. “So they will not resent you for coming from England, rather they will admire you for what you’re trying to do.”

Johanna swallowed her emotion. Cadell’s unconditional support moved her more than she could say. He thought the people would admire her? Did that mean he admired her? He was making it sound as if she were doing something brave and commendable. He was on her side, unconditionally. He wanted to help and had even found solutions. It was more than she had the right to expect.

“They will come work here for a few months,” Cadell carried on, acting as if he had not done anything extraordinary, “while you learn Welsh. With their help, everyone will be able to understand one another better.”

“Yes. I do intend to learn Welsh as fast as I can,” she said, feeling the need to show that she would do her part. “I started to, with Rhun, ten years ago, but then with him so often absent, there was no opportunity to practice. No one spoke the language where I lived. But it is only fair that I should use Welsh now that I’m here.”

“Worry not, I do know you are a fair and brave woman. That is precisely what we need those thick-skulled people to understand.”

She couldn’t help a smile at the phrase.

“Now, first things first,” Cadell said, placing his cup down with decision. “Food supplies, as I said. I’m sorry to say there aren’t any sweet treats in your kitchen. You know, spiced almonds, dried fruits, honeyed cakes and the like.”

She stared at him. “How do you know that is what I like?”

He skewered her with a deep stare. “Because you told me, all those years ago. Don’t you remember? I met you in the storeroom and you confided that you were in search of something sweet to nibble on. I assume your love for all things sweet has not disappeared?”

“No, it has not.”

If anything, it had increased. And at certain times of the month, it was near irresistible. She would certainly appreciate having honey to spread on her bread when that time came next week.

“As I thought,” Cadell concluded. “So, go to Castell Esgyrn we shall.”

Later that morning, Johanna found herself face to face with Efa in the corridor leading to the kitchen. The girl was carrying a huge pile of linen and gasped when she saw that the way was barred by the mistress she always took pains to avoid.

“Mae’n ddrwg gen i,” she said, clutching the laundry tight against her body as if drawing strength from it. In a moment, she would bolt.

Johanna spoke before the girl could flee the way she’d come. “No need to be sorry. It’s not a problem,” she added in Welsh, using one of the few sentences she knew.

She wished she could talk with Efa and ask why she seemed mortally afraid of her. Without knowing quite why, she sensed that her fear had nothing to do with her being English. Rather, it was as if the mistress of the castle’s return had spelled disaster for the young girl on a personal level.