They had turned back in the direction of Draceadon, but he was not overly concerned. They were close enough that if he wanted to make a run for it they could be within the fortress by the high sun of the day. But he was meticulous when it came to his equipment, and his mail was a most prized possession, given to him by his king just before they departed last year for Hastings. William’s own armorer, Gilbert fitz Hugh, had created the unique black mail. Only les morts, William’s elite guard, had the honor of wearing the masterpieces. And Wulfson, along with his Blood Swords, took great pains to preserve the gift. It was not only elaborate but constructed with such expert craftsmanship; the tightly welded piece had repelled many an arrow and sword when other mail would have allowed passage. He was glad to see Tarian’s gray tied up under a lean-to attached to an old stone dwelling. Wulfson scowled. From where he stood, he could detect no roof. Indeed, the architecture looked unfamiliar.
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