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Page 424
was fordable; east was all king's country. At first they thought they would make good their escape. The hunting party was making so much noise of their own that the sound of their horses would be insignificant. There was no pursuit, and they drove their mounts harder as they came out of the trees into more open land.
This was a grave mistake. The thunder of their own horses' hooves and the sun full in their eyes masked sights and sounds they would have noticed had their progress been more careful. Suddenly, cries rang out from ahead, a challenge in French and English. They could not answer. Rhiannon's men spoke neither French nor English, and a woman's voice would be no way to reduce curiosity and obtain freedom. Desperate, they wheeled east, but it was too late. Warnings were sounding before, behind, all over. Sion and Twm reached for their bows.
"No!" Rhiannon cried. "You cannot fight an army."
"Welsh! Spies! Have a care!" rang from every side.
Several men-at-arms rose with crossbows ready out of a screen of bushes along the side of a stream about twenty feet away. Rhiannon'reined in her horse.
"I am no spy," she said in French. "I am a Welsh gentlewoman, and my men and I are lost."
The cultured language and the quality of the horses and their trappings saved Rhiannon and her men from excessively rough handling. There were some Welsh gentlemen who, from violent opposition to anything Prince Llewelyn did, were attached to the king's cause, and the leaders of the men on patrol and scavenging expeditions knew better than to take the chance of offending any of their women-folk. They also had strict instructions that any Welsh person caught must be brought to an officer for questioning. It seemed impossible that any woman should be a spy, but if she were brought politely to their commander, they would have obeyed both orders.

 
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