Bertrice Small - A Memory of Love

Rhonwyn went with her companions to the early church services of the day, Prime, at six o'clock in the morning, and Tierce, the high mass, at nine o'clock in the morning. She attended Vespers before nightfall, but was excused from the other five canonical hours. After Prime she broke her fast in the refectory with oat porridge in a small bread trencher and apple cider. She then sat with Sister Mair until Tierce, practicing how to write both letters and numbers. Sister Mair did the lettering on the illuminations the abbey sold to noble households.

After Tierce, Rhonwyn studied with her aunt, learning Latin and the Norman tongue. To the abbess's delight her niece had a facility for languages other than the Welsh tongue and learned far more quickly than she had hoped. Within a month Rhonwyn was reciting the Latin prayers in the church services she attended as if she had been doing it all her life. And she was beginning to read as well. Her ability with the Norman tongue was equally swift, and Rhonwyn was soon conversing in that language on a daily basis with her aunt both in and out of the classroom.

Gwynllian uerch Gryffydd gave thanks before the altar of the church daily for her nieces progress. It was truly miraculous. Alter the midday meal Rhonwyn joined Sister Una in the kitchens so she might see bow meals were planned and prepared. Here her progress was not as quick, and Sister Una complained to the abbess that her niece could burn water. The infirmarian, Sister Dicra, was kinder, for her new pupil seemed to have a knack for healing and concocting the potions, salves, lotions, syrups, and teas needed to cure a cough or make a wound heal easier.

"The lass has a healing touch, Reverend Mother," Sister Dicra said enthusiastically.

"She'll need it to cure the bellyaches she's going to give with her cooking," Sister Una remarked dryly.

"She doesn't need to know how to cook," the abbess said, "just how it should be done. The castle will have its own cook. Have you taught her how to make soap for both clothing and skin yet?"

"We begin tomorrow," Sister Una replied. "I hope she has more of a knack for that."

The abbess turned to Sister Braith. "How is she coming with her weaving, embroidery, and sewing skills, my sister?"

"Slowly," answered the nun. "Rhonwyn has little patience, as you know. She finds sewing and embroidery foolish. Weaving, however, seems to calm her. She says there is a logic to it," chuckled Sister Braith. "I have shown her how to spin, and she seems to like that quite well."

They were progressing. Slowly in some areas, faster in others, the abbess thought silently. "The fabrics have arrived from Hereford," she told her companions. "We shall have to fill Rhonwyn's bridal chest ourselves if it is to get done."

"And the relic?" Sister Winifred inquired.

"My brother sends word he has obtained it at great cost. He is bringing it to us himself."

The prince arrived several days later, accompanied only by two of his men. He handed the bejeweled gold box to his sister. "Twenty gold florins, this cost me," he growled at her. "The mother superior at St. Mary's-in-the-Gate ought to be hawking maidenheads, she haggled so closely with me. It had better be worth it, Gwynllian."

"Would you like to see your daughter?" the abbess asked him as she stroked her prize.

"You have begun, then?" he said eagerly, visibly relieved.

"Of course," she told him. "There was no choice if we are to be ready by spring, Llywelyn." She reached for the bell on the table and rang it, instructing the nun who answered her call to fetch the lady Rhonwyn at once.

Llywelyn ap Gruffydd gaped in surprise for a moment as his daughter entered the room. She was garbed in a graceful deep blue gown with long, tight sleeves and girded at the waist with a simple twisted gold rope. Her pale gilt hair was beginning to grow out. It was clean and almost to her shoulders now. On her head she wore a simple chaplet with fresh flowers. She bowed to her aunt first and then to her father.

"You sent for me, my lady abbess?" she asked.

"Your father wished to see you before he departed, my child," Gwynllian answered quietly.

"She's speaking in the Norman tongue!" ap Gruffydd said excitedly.

"I am learning, my lord. I am told this is the language the English use, although there is another," Rhonwyn replied.

"Aye, but what you're learning is what you'll need." The prince turned to his sister. "The transformation is amazing! Are you certain she isn't ready to go yet?"

"Nay, Llywelyn, she most certainly is not!" the abbess said. "Do not be in such a hurry. This is small progress, and we have much more to do, not to mention a wardrobe to sew. You cannot take her until the spring. Come on her birthday. Unless, of course, in the meantime, she decides to become one of us," the abbess teased her brother.

"God forbid!" the prince cried.

Rhonwyn laughed. "I lave no fear, my lord, this life your sister my aunt leads is not for me. I will be ready to do my duty when you return for me in April."

"Bid your farewell, Rhonwyn, and then you are dismissed," Gwynllian said.

"Adieu, my lord," Rhonwyn told him, bowing again, then she departed the room.

"She never calls you Tad," Gwynllian remarked softly.

"The lad does," he returned. "Rhonwyn holds me responsible for her mam's death. She has never liked me, sister. With the logic of a child she wanted her mam all to herself, and she resented it each time I came to visit my fair Vala. She has never gotten over it, I fear, but it matters not as long as she respects and obeys me."

"I do not know how much she respects you, Llywelyn, but she will do her duty by you. Rhonwyn will do you proud, and if she proves to be a good breeder, her English lord will have a large family. She will need her husband's loyalty when you and the English eventually come to a parting of the ways, which I have not a doubt you will."

"That is her fate. Mine is greater," he replied. "Now, sister, I must go. You have your relic and everything else you have asked of me." He handed her two small leather bags. "My daughter's fees," he said, dropping the first one in her hand, "and your gold bezants," he concluded, handing her the second little bag. "I am pleased by the progress I see in Rhonwyn. When I return for her in the spring, I expect a complete transformation."

"You will have it, brother," Gwynllian said.

"I know I will. Your word has always been good, sister, and I thank you for what you are doing, even if it has cost me dearly."

She laughed at him. "Do not complain, Llywelyn. That for which you pay nothing is worth nothing. Godspeed to you now."

The winter came, and snow covered the hills. The sheep were brought in from the far pastures and kept within the walls at night to protect them from the wolves. It was a festive season, Rhonwyn discovered. The feast of St. Catherine was celebrated in late November, and there were a host of other saints' days leading up to Christ's Mass, which celebrated the birth of Jesus, whom Rhonwyn had now been taught was God's son come to earth to expiate man's sins. For all her rough upbringing, Rhonwyn found Christianity comforting. The notion of a god's son dying for mere mortals was both generous and honorable in her eyes. The abbess smiled when Rhonwyn told her that. She was grateful her niece approved of the concept of religion at all. While she found the thought of delivering a full-blown pagan to the English amusing, she did not think her brother would agree. She giggled in spite of herself at the picture it presented. Then she saw to it that her niece was baptized on Christmas Day.

With Twelfth Night came the end of the festive season. Rhonwyn settled down and worked harder than ever. She was learning that the brain was as difficult and as skilled a weapon as her alborium. She was now put in the care of Sister Rhan, a nun whose plump and cheerful countenance belied an incredible intellect. Sister Rhan, somewhere in middle age, had once, according to the gossip Elen and Arlais offered, been a powerful lord's mistress. If the rumors were to be believed, she had also dressed as a boy and studied with the greatest minds in England.