Bertrice Small - A Memory of Love

She arose and began to pace restlessly. I am not certain I want to direct my servants and order provisions that we do not grow or make ourselves, she thought. I want to ride and hunt with my alborium, not sit meekly by the fire, weaving and spinning. Damn ap Gruffydd for condemning me to this life! I cannot be penned up any longer! How I bore those months at the abbey are beyond me, but I cannot be held captive like some wild thing they wish to tame. Oh, God! And what of the intimacy I must have with this man who is my husband? I know not what is expected of me, and I am not certain at all that I want to know!

The door to her dayroom opened, and Enit came in bearing a tray that she set down on the table. "I thought you might be hungry, but as you are tired, I chose delicate foods, my lady," she said. "Come now and eat while it is still hot."

Rhonwyn got up and came to the table, where Enit seated her. Then the young serving woman set before her new mistress a silver server upon which was roasted capon breast, small new peas, and a large crusty slice of hot bread, the cheese atop it browned and melting. There was also a silver goblet of fruity golden wine.

Rhonwyn fell upon the food, eating with gusto. When she had cleared half her plate she grinned up at Enit. "I have never been known for having a dainty belly. My kinsman, Morgan ap Owen, says I eat like a barbarian."

Enit looked momentarily distressed. "Have I brought enough, then, my lady?"

Rhonwyn nodded. "Convent fare was not half as tasty," she chuckled. "What about you, Enit? Have you eaten?"

"I will in the kitchens afterward, my lady," the girl told her mistress. "We have kitchens beneath the hall, which is considered very modern. Most castles have a cookhouse, separate in the courtyard, but often the food is cold when it arrives. The master does not like cold food. He even created a device to bring the food quickly into the hall. It is a shaft in the walls that runs from below. The food is put upon a platform and by means of ropes drawn up into the hall."

"That reminds me," Rhonwyn cried, jumping up and signaling Enit to follow her into the garderobe. "What is this?" she demanded, opening the small wooden door that concealed the stone seat.

"You sit upon it and perform your necessary bodily functions, my lady," Enit said. "When you are through, I flush the shaft clean with the water in the bucket. Is it not wonderful?"

"By the rood!" Rhonwyn swore, the words slipping out most unexpectedly, and then she blushed.

But Enit giggled. "I know," she said, understanding. "My uncle, who is the steward here, says all the best castles have them. It is nice not to have to go outside and pee on a cold morning, my lady."

Now it was Rhonwyn who giggled. "I have so much to learn, Enit. I have been raised in virtual isolation my whole life, and in Wales we have not these wonderful modern conveniences. Tomorrow I would speak with your uncle so he may inform me of all these wonders."

"Tomorrow is your wedding day, my lady," Enit reminded her.

"Then the day after tomorrow," Rhonwyn said. "Is there a priest in residence here who says the mass?"

"Yes, my lady. It is Father John, and he says the mass at the hour of Prime each day."

"You will see I am awakened in time to be there," Rhonwyn told her servant. If there was one thing the abbess had impressed upon her niece, it was that daily attendance at mass was essential if one was to set a good example to one's servants. "Now, let me finish my meal. The hole in my belly is not quite filled." She sat down again at her table and ate the food remaining upon her plate.

When she had finished, Enit offered her lady a bath, but Rhonwyn refused, wanting to sleep. Instead, Enit brought a silver ewer of warm water for her mistress to wash her face and hands in so that she would not get grease upon the sheets. "Among my possessions you will find a small stiff brush, Enit. Bring it to me," Rhonwyn instructed the girl after she had washed. And when the brush was in her hand she showed Enit how she kept the yellow from her teeth, brushing them vigorously, then rinsing with her remaining wine and spitting it into the basin. "In future I will want mint leaves to chew to sweeten my breath. Sister Dicra taught me that," she explained to Enit.

Enit helped her mistress disrobe, carefully brushing the gown and putting it away. She drew the shoes from Rhonwyn's feet, promising to clean them before the morrow. "Will you wear your chemise to bed, my lady?" Enit asked.

"Not this one, for the sleeves are tight," Rhonwyn said. "You will find a white chemise with long wide sleeves among my possessions. That is what I prefer to sleep in, Enit."

Enit rummaged through her lady's chest and found the required garment. She helped Rhonwyn out of the one and into the other. "If you will seat yourself, my lady," she told her mistress as she placed the gown chemise in the garderobe, "I will brush your hair." Then as she did she sighed admiringly, "Ah, to have such a crowning glory, my lady Rhonwyn. I have never seen hair like this. Surely it is spun from thistledown and touched by the sun itself."

"I am said to be descended from the fairy folk of ancient Cymri," Rhonwyn told the girl as she braided her hair for the night. "They were fair like I am, like my mam was, not dark like ap Gruffydd and his ilk."

The servant helped her mistress into her bed, saying, "The fire should go the night, my lady, and keep you warm. If you need me you have but to call and I will come, for I am not a heavy sleeper." She blew out the small taper by the bedside and entered the garderobe where her own sleeping space was located.

Rhonwyn lay quietly. So, here she was. In the castle that was to be her home for the rest of her life. Tomorrow she would be a wife, ap Gruffydd would depart. Good riddance to him! She would be alone with Edward de Beaulieu, who seemed pleasant enough. Would he allow her to have her brother here? It had been six months since she had been separated from her younger sibling. She had promised Glynn, and she had to keep that promise. While she had been at the abbey there was no hope of their being together, but now… Surely one small boy could not matter to this lord, and God only knew ap Gruffydd had no use for his son. He would remain at Cythraul the rest of his days if she could not rescue him. What if the fortress were attacked by the English or by another faction in opposition to ap Gruffydd? Glynn could be killed or worse if ap Gruffydd's enemies learned who he was. She had to gain his custody as quickly as possible. She had to!

Enit awakened her just as the darkling skies were showing signs of growing lighter. She dressed quickly in a simple dark brown gown wild a girdle of delicate copper links. Enit put a matching fur-lined cloak over her shoulders, and together the two young women hurried to the small church that was located within the castle's walls. There they attended the mass, and afterward the priest came forward to greet the girl who would be the castle's new mistress.

"You are rested now, my child?" bather John asked her. "1 was sorry we did not meet at table last night."

"I was very wearied from my journey," Rhonwyn explained. "The prince was most anxious to deliver me lest the English think he had reneged on his promise to marry his daughter to King Henry's man."

The priest heard the faint tone of mockery in her voice. "You are content with this arrangement, my child?" he gently inquired.

"I am told I must marry, good father, if I have no calling to God's service, which I most assuredly do not," she laughed. "It is my duty and my obligation to my prince to accept his decision in this matter. The lord of this place seems kind and has been most considerate of me. I have never had a suitor, nor is there anyone who has captured my fancy. This match is acceptable to me."