Bertrice Small - A Memory of Love

"By then it will be too late," Kate said.

"Oh, mistress, I am so afraid!" Mab said.

Kate put comforting arms about her servant. "I know," she said, "and I am, too, but we cannot let these men see we are afraid. Edward and Rafe are already on our trail, I know it! They will find us and rescue us before long, Mab."

"How?" Mab now sobbed, totally unnerved. "How will they get into this fortress, and how will they get us out? It is hopeless, my lady. It is hopeless!" She began to weep.

"Nay, 'tis not hopeless," Kate reassured her, although she was not certain at all that Mab wasn't right. "Mab, think! What is the worst that can happen to us? We will be killed. But if our mortal bodies die, do we not live on in the spirit? To be with our blessed Mother would not be such a terrible fate, Mab."

"But I haven't ever lived, lady!" Mab hiccuped. "I am still a virgin. You at least know the joy of marriage and children."

"And so will you, Mab," Kate said firmly. The door to their chamber opened, and she continued, "Look! Here is a nice hot supper for us. Things will seem much brighter after you have eaten."

"If it ain't poisoned," Mab said darkly.

"I don't think they brought us all the way from Haven just for the pleasure of poisoning us," Kate remarked. Then she turned to the servant who had brought the meal. "Tell your master I will require a hot bath tonight. I was nursing an infant when I was taken, and my bodice is soaked through with my milk. I shall also require a clean chemise and a gown. Are there women of rank here?"

"Lord Rhys's leman," the servant answered.

"Then my requirements can be satisfied certainly," Kate said.

"Yes, lady," the servant replied, and hurried out.

"You would wear the clothes of that bandit's whore?" Mab demanded.

"Aye," Kate admitted. "They are surely cleaner than what I am now wearing. Both my chemise and gown are sticking to my breasts. The smell on my clothing is not particularly pleasant. Oh, I hope Edward was wise enough to get wee Henry a wet nurse, Mab."

"If he wasn't, the other women will see to it," Mab, her courage now restored, comforted her mistress. Her eye went to the tray of food as she realized that she was very hungry. "Let us eat, lady. You sit, and I shall serve you." She began to ladle rabbit stew onto the trencher of bread. "How long do you think it will take Lord Edward to find us, my lady?"

"He is probably on his way now," Kate said, spooning the hot stew into her mouth. "Ummm, this is good. At least the cook is competent here, Mab. We shall not be starved. Aye, Edward is more than likely very near us, and my brother with him. Listen! Do you hear rain? Well, at least we were spared riding in a downpour."

Outside, the rain fell heavily, and at the convent where Kate's captors had stopped that first night, Rhonwyn was in earnest conversation with the mother superior, having introduced herself as the niece of the Abbess Gwynllian of Mercy Abbey. The convent's porteress was with them, waiting to be given permission to speak.

"We do not have many guests, being in such a distant locale," the mother superior said, "but several nights ago four men and two women sheltered with us. Sister Margaret can tell you more." She nodded to the porteress, giving her permission to add what she could.

"Did they tell you who they were?" Rhonwyn asked.

"The one who appeared to be their leader said the lady was his sister and the other her servant. He was taking them to his brother's castle, but he did not give his name or that of his brother. The two women were quiet except the next morning when they were leaving. The lady asked me to pray for her sister-in-law, Katherine. She gave me a coin, which is more than the man did."

"Do you remember what she looked like?" Rhonwyn gently probed the elderly nun's memory.

"Young and pretty," Sister Margaret replied. "She had beautiful light blue eyes, and although she wore a head covering, I could see a bit of her hair. It was a nice nut brown. She was well spoken, although her Welsh sounded a bit strange to my ear, as if it were not her native tongue. Her servant was ordinary and appeared frightened."

"Did the lady perhaps favor this gentleman with me?" Rhonwyn asked. She drew Rafe forward.

"She did!" Sister Margaret cried. "Indeed she did. Why, my lord, you could be sister and brother."

"We are," Rafe replied. "My sister Katherine was being kidnapped, good sister. Are you certain you cannot recall hearing a place or a name? We must find her!"

"I am sorry, my lord," Sister Margaret said, but then she brightened. "I can tell you that when they departed the following morning they went north. Straight due north."

"What is in that direction?" he asked her, but she shrugged.

"There is only one place to the north," the mother superior told them. "It is a two days' ride, and there is nothing in between. Aberforth Castle would be the next inhabited place. There is nothing before it, and nothing in any other direction at all, my lord."

"Who is the lord of the castle?" Rhonwyn asked the nun.

"Rhys ap Daffydd, lady" was the response.

They sheltered the night in the convent guest house, and then the following morning they departed.

"We must go to Cythraul," Rhonwyn said as they turned west. "I want to speak to my father before we beard this Rhys ap Daffydd."

"How far are we?" Rafe asked her, and Dewi answered.

"We should be there by nightfall," he said.

"Do you know this Rhys?" Rhonwyn asked Dewi.

"Only by reputation, lady. He is an ambitious man, they say," Dewi replied, "and never your father's friend."

They rode that bright November day over the green hills of Wales, seeing no one. Finally, as the sun was setting, the ramparts of Cythraul appeared ahead of them.

"I will go ahead to be certain it is safe," Dewi said, and kicked his mount forward while Rhonwyn and Rafe drew their horses aside in a thicket to await Dewi's signal. When it came they rode quickly into the fortress. Looking about her, Rhonwyn wondered that she had been raised in such a rough place.

"Rhonwyn, welcome home!" Morgan ap Owen lifted her from her saddle. "Why have you come?"

"Is my father here yet?" she answered his question with a question. "Oth went for him some days ago."

"He hasn't come, but then neither has Oth. Come into the hall, lass. And who is this fellow who accompanies you?"

"This is my husband, Rafe de Beaulieu," she answered.

"I thought you wed Edward de Beaulieu," Morgan replied.

"I did, but then our marriage was dissolved, and I wed his cousin Rafe. Rafe's sister married Edward. That is why I am here, Morgan ap Owen. Several days ago some Welsh came over the border and kidnapped Lady Katherine, believing she was me. It obviously has something to do with my father. We have to find Kate before she is harmed, and she will be when they learn she isn't me. I needed to meet with ap Gruffydd in a location where we wouldn't be observed so I could learn from him just what is going on, old friend."

"I understand," her old mentor said. "Well, there is nothing for you to do but sit down with us in the hall until he comes."

The evening meal was served, and they sat at table with Morgan ap Owen as bread, venison, and trout were placed before them. At first the men who had raised her were shy of Rhonwyn, but gradually they realized that while her manner had softened and she was a grown woman, she was still their lass. The hall soon became noisy as they told Rafe tales of her childhood, and he joined in their uproarious laughter at her many adventures and misadventures.

"I suppose," said Lug ap Barris, "that you're no longer the fine soldier you once were. After all, you're a mam now."