Prince of Time (36 page)

Bohun’s jaw worked. David’s men had worn brown and green homespun, though, upon close inspection, the mail under their shirts would indicate that they were something other than simple men of the woods. Bohun hadn’t thought this through as clearly.

“Whether or not Edmund Mortimer acknowledged our treaty once, his men have broken it and are defeated,” Math said. “They will not see England again this month. By the time they do, our fight with Bigod—or Clare—or whomever leagues against us—will be over, for good or ill, and then we will decide what to do with them. Neither I, nor my prince, will kill any man unless we have no other choice.”

Bohun glared at him, but Math turned away, his arm still around Anna. His shoulders said,
Enough!
He stalked towards the Abbey. Anna clutched her cloak more tightly around her shoulders and then felt for Math’s hand. After a moment’s hesitation, he took it and squeezed.

“Are you okay?” Anna said.

Math didn’t speak American English, but he knew the word, knew what it meant to Anna. In fact, it wasn’t just Anna and David—or Mom and Bronwen—who used it these days. The word had spread in the thirteenth century, as it had in the modern world.

“Yes,” he said. “Or as okay as I can be right now.”

Anna glanced at William as he came up beside her. He’d left his father and Abbot Peter behind, standing together among the graves. William kept his head high, his eyes fixed on a point somewhere beyond the Abbey. He didn’t look back at his father. Anna didn’t remember her brother ever saying it, but it looked as if he and Bohun had an agreement. William was now in David’s charge.

______

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