Rowan watched the sun rise the next morning, his mood grim. He should have been pleased and he knew it well. He had achieved his lifelong objective, and that with scarcely any effort on his part. He had nothing to his name, no steed, no hauberk, no blade, no coin, not even a saddlebag or a cloak to call his own. He had nothing but the garb upon his back.
And he had no decent prospect of changing that state.
’Twas precisely what Rowan had always desired, or so he had long told himself, but the achievement was less than satisfactory.
Aye, he could not help but think of his lost cloak when he saw Bronwyn shiver in her sleep. He could not help but think of those two lost gold coins and how much bread they would have bought for all these hungry captives, now freed upon a foreign shore.
He w
