Daughter of Time: A Time Travel Romance by Sarah Woodbury Page A

he had to. With Anna on my hip, she and I found a
higher spot from which to watch the road. The trees were bare of
leaves, making hiding difficult but allowing me a better view of
the road.
    At first, our soldiers moved easily, though
their shoulders were tense, waiting—for what, none of us know.
    “ This is the worst part,”
Bevyn said. “Before it happens.”
    “ You’ve been in battle
before?” I asked.
    He turned to look at me
before returning his gaze to the road below. “My father tells me
this.”
    Then, a roar broke the
silence, coming from the trees on our side of the road, but further
south. Bevyn shoved me to my knees and I put out a hand to stop
myself from toppling with Anna to the ground. The road became the
definition of chaos, arrows flying at Goronwy’s men and them
struggling to return fire.
    Goronwy’s horse reared and
he cursed. He managed to stay on her, while at the same time
swinging his shield around to block any further arrows. A dozen of
Goronwy’s men turned towards the wood, urging their horses forward,
but at the same instant, a host of men charged out of them, aided
by the terrain which gave them the higher ground.
    The two lines of horses
crashed into each other and men on both sides went down. Beside me,
Bevyn had mounted his horse, hardly able to contain himself. I
pressed Anna’s face against my shoulder while she cried at the
noise and at my fear.
    “ Awn!
Awn!” I said. Go! Go!
    He went, crashing through
the bracken and spurring his horse out of the trees and onto the
road. He raised his sword arm sliced through one attacker and then
another, neither of whom even had time to turn. He cut down one man
who pressed on Goronwy, who’d lost his horse and now stood astride
the body of another man.
    I watched only Bevyn, too frightened to look
away, praying with everything in me that he stayed upright; that he
lived through this. His sword developed a coating of blood and it
flashed as he moved it up and down, killing every enemy within
reach.
    And then Llywelyn came.
    I couldn’t see his face
from this far away, but I could imagine his grimace, that
teeth-bared look all the men had as he and Hywel galloped
full-speed side-by-side down the opposite slope. Bevyn broke off
from what he was doing and flowed into formation behind Llywelyn.
The soldiers moved as a unit and I understood then that that was
what Bevyn meant, more than the daily practice with wooden swords
that I’d always imagined was standard for knights-in-training. It
was the ability to work as a team, to trust that you didn’t have to
block that enemy’s sword because the man beside you had already
done it.
    They moved fluidly through
the opposition. I didn’t know how they avoided their own soldiers
but they did. I barely had time to catch my breath before it was
over. So many men were dead or injured. But I couldn’t see them,
through the tears that poured down my cheeks.
    I stared at the battlefield, unseeing, until
I caught sight of Llywelyn pacing north along the road towards me.
By the time, he glimpsed me among the trees, I could tell he was
angry. His focus was such that I could practically see the blood
thundering in his ears and that his vision had narrowed to a red
haze.
    Just like Trev.
    He burst into the space in front of me,
grabbed my arms, and pulled me to him. He brought his nose to
within inches of mine.
    “Tell me how you knew!”
    “I . . I . .”
    “Are you the traitor? Are you a spy for the
English?”
    “No! No!” I said.
    “Who did you tell that we were coming this
way?”
    “Nobody! I didn’t tell anyone! I didn’t even
know until just before we left!”
    “You knew they’d attack us here!”
    “I only knew that at one time someone had!
Would I have told you about it if I planned to betray you?”
    He stared down into my face while I gazed up
at him, my face white and my eyes wide. He’d gripped my upper arms
so tightly it was going to leave marks. Then my words