Across the dark water to the land of ancient Gaul, renegades take Cedwyn and the littl’uns farther from home and rescue.
Led by her heart rather than her head and without any thought for her safety, fifteen-year-old Guinevere sets out alone to save Cedwyn. And if she fails…?
Eleven-year-old Cedwyn’s trust in Guinevere is absolute. But will his sacrifice to save her and protect the littl’uns end with the loss of his own life?
Sometimes, hanging on to hope and humor is the only way to survive.
The other three renegades ran to the railing, craning their necks toward the direction of the spotter’s arm. The burly renegade leader, called Baard by the others, raised the cry. “There! Land!”
He and Ulf had not fared well on the crossing. Cedwyn had seen them both hanging over the rail with the sickness. During each moment of his journey his thoughts didn’t stray far from his friend, his Queen, Guinevere.
I know you’ll come, Guin’ver. I know it.
Ulf, down from the mast, cuffed him on the shoulder. “Get those smelly kids up here and washed down again. Don’t want to be carrying that smell with us in the wagon. Go on now.” He shoved Cedwyn, but then almost lost his balance as the ship dipped suddenly.
Cedwyn’s stomach lurched, but his hidden grin of satisfaction, as the man ran to the rail and hung over, choking and gagging, calmed his insides. Serves him right, the bully.