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he wanted to be like that when he was grown up.
    At last Merthin's constricted throat managed to produce a word. 'Yes.'
    'Pick up that broken belt, then, and wrap it around my arm, if you would.'
    Merthin did as he was told. Thomas's undershirt was soaked with blood, and the flesh of his arm was sliced open like something on a butcher's slab. Merthin felt a little nauseated, but he forced himself to twist the belt around Thomas's arm so that it pulled the wound closed and slowed the bleeding. He made a knot, and Thomas used his right hand to pull it tight.
    Then Thomas struggled to his feet.
    He looked at the dead men. 'We can't bury them,' he said. 'I'd bleed to death before the graves were dug.' Glancing at Merthin, he added: 'Even with you helping me.' He thought for a moment. 'On the other hand, I don't want them to be discovered by some courting couple looking for a place to...be alone. Let's lug the guts into that bush where you were hiding. Green coat first.'
    They approached the body.
    'One leg each,' said Thomas. With his right hand he grasped the dead man's left ankle. Merthin took the other limp foot in both hands and heaved. Together they hauled the corpse into the shrubbery, next to Hop.
    'That will do,' said Thomas. His face was white with pain. After a moment, he bent down and pulled the arrow out of the corpse's eye. 'Yours?' he said with a raised eyebrow.
    Merthin took the arrow and wiped it on the ground to get rid of some of the blood and brains adhering to the shaft.
    In the same way they dragged the second body across the clearing, its loosely attached head trailing behind, and left it beside the first.
    Thomas picked up the two men's dropped swords and threw them into the bush with the bodies. Then he found his own weapons.
    'Now,' said Thomas, 'I have a great favor to ask.' He proffered his dagger. 'Would you dig me a small hole?'
    'All right.' Merthin took the dagger.
    'Just here, right in front of the oak tree.'
    'How big?'
    Thomas picked up the leather wallet that had been attached to his belt. 'Big enough to hide this for fifty years.'
    Screwing up his courage, Merthin said: 'Why?'
    'Dig, and I'll tell you as much of it as I can.'
    Merthin scratched a square on the ground and began to loosen the cold earth with the dagger, then scoop it up with his hands.
    Thomas picked up the scroll and put it into the wool bag, then fastened the bag inside the wallet. 'I was given this letter to deliver to the earl of Shiring,' he said. 'But it contains a secret so dangerous that I realized the bearer was sure to be killed, to make certain he could never speak of it. So I needed to disappear. I decided I would take sanctuary in a monastery, become a monk. I've had enough of fighting, and I've a lot of sins to repent. As soon as I went missing, the people who gave me the letter started to search for me - and I was unlucky. I was spotted in a tavern in Bristol.'
    'Why did the queen's men come after you?'
    'She, too, would like to prevent the spread of this secret.'
    When Merthin's hole was eighteen inches deep, Thomas said: 'That will do.' He dropped the wallet inside.
    Merthin shoveled the earth back into the hole on top of the wallet, and Thomas covered the freshly turned earth with leaves and twigs until it was indistinguishable from the ground around it.
    'If you hear that I've died,' said Thomas, 'I'd like you to dig up this letter and give it to a priest. Would you do that for me?'
    'All right.'
    'Until that happens, you must tell no one. While they know I've got the letter, but they don't know where it is, they'll be afraid to do anything. But if you tell the secret, two things will happen. First, they will kill me. Then they will kill you.'
    Merthin was aghast. It seemed unfair that he should be in so much danger just because he helped a man by digging a hole.
    'I'm sorry to scare you,' said Thomas. 'But, then, it's not entirely my fault. After all, I didn't ask you to come here.'
    'No.' Merthin wished with