“Two,”“One,” boomed Rhodri, “and a bottle of water. The prince is too young to sup ale.”
“One,”“It’s not fair! I’m too young for everything!” the squeaky voice quavered.
“Think yourself lucky, boy! You are young, and Alun and I grow old! That’s not fair if you ask me!” Rhodri’s infamous guffaw assailed their ears.
Rhodri poured Arthfael an ale as the prince glugged water directly from the bottle.
“Tell me, Arthfael, how would you get rid of an awkward foe?”
“I’d run him through with my sword, Sire.” The young man wiped his lips with his sleeve.
“But if you wanted no one to know you’d killed him?”
Arthfael marvelled at the question and the wild look in his king’s eyes, which he’d never seen before. He frowned, and then said, “Why, then I’d drown him while nobody was around and blame
