“Indeed not, but I’d hazard a guess he only allowed us entry because of you.”
“A gentleman,” she whispered with a teasing smile.
“Nasty goin’s on at Waterthwaite,” Godric suddenly growled, skewering a skinned hare and setting it on the spit over the fire. “Stay away from the place. Haunted.”
Adelina took a risk. “I think I saw the ghost. The baron.”
Godric spat. “Aye, dead two year or more. Yon Bertha’s an evil woman.”
“She tried to wed me to the ghost,” Adelina said.
Godric sucked on his pipe. “What did I tell ye? A witch.”
* * *
“It’s generous of you to share your food,” Terric told Godric, washing down the last tasty morsel of roasted hare with the mysterious, warming brew.
“Aye, well, ’tisna every day a bonny lass passes through,” Godric replied.
“Do you hail from these parts?” Terric asked, hoping he hadn’t misjudged the shepherd’s wink.
“Ambleside, mostly,” Godric replied. “Back and forth along the auld Roman road.”
“We saw the ruins near Ravenglass,” Terric said.
“That were a bathhouse, for the Dalmatian soldiers stationed at Muncaster.”
“How interesting,” Adelina remarked. “There must be a lot of Roman ruins in this area.”
“Aye, if ye carry on the same path, ye’ll come to Waingate Fort. Then ye’ll see ruins, by God.”
“Waingate?” Roland asked.
“A Roman fortification, built to protect the pass linking their garrison at Ambleside and the port at Ravenglass. I told a fellow who came ’ere earlier. He should have made it there by now.”
Terric tensed. Godric could only be referring to Mandeville. “This man you speak of. He didn’t want to stay here?”
“Oh, aye. Begged, he did. But I don’t shelter none o’ the tyrant’s lackeys, no matter how much coin they offer. I’ve nay use for coin.”
“Did he say where he was headed?”
“Carlisle,” Godric replied with a chuckle. “I told ’im to ’ead east to find yon Roman road, but I doot ’e’d make it that far. Just about done in, ’e was.”
Terric preferred not to ask about the chest Mandeville might still be carrying, and the notion of attempting to follow the soldier to Carlisle was foolhardy. Roland would be arrested as soon as it was discovered he was a Norman. They had to formulate a plan for retreat. “How can we find the home of Baron Ravenglass?”
“What’s the baron to ye?” Godric snarled.
“We bring greetings from his daughter.”
The old man’s hooded eyes widened. “Marguerite?”
“She’s my brother’s wife,” Roland explained.
Godric grinned. “I heard she’d married at last…despite the tyrant’s best efforts to deny the lass a husband.”
Roland nodded. “And happy.”
“Bless my soul and ’tis pleased I am to hear it. On the morrow, I’ll guide ye to Waingate and thence to meet my friend, the baron.”