Bertrice Small - A Memory of Love

"Would you like to go hand-to-hand with me, Lug?" she asked him in a deceptively innocent voice.

He saw the look in her eye and chuckled. "Nay, Rhonwyn. 'Tis obvious I am mistaken."

"And who do you think will teach my son how to use the alborium, Lug? Is there anyone in your memory who can shoot as well as I?"

"Nay, Rhonwyn," he replied.

"You taught me well," she said softly, and he flushed with pleasure that she would remember him now that she was a lady.

Brenin, the ancient wolfhound, came and lay by her side. "He is my first dog," she told Rafe as she leaned over to stroke the old animal's head.

"Tell me of the laddie," Gwilym the cook said.

"He has joined the Benedictines in Shrewsbury," Rhonwyn said, "and is at the abbey. You would have been proud of him. When he learned I had disappeared while on crusade, he came to Palestine and sought me out by doing what King Richard's minstrel, Blondell, once did. He went about entertaining with song, singing his first song always in our Welsh tongue, waiting for an answer, and when he finally received it, he helped rescue me." Then she told them of her adventures and the reason for the dissolution of her marriage to Edward.

When she had concluded her tale Morgan op Owen spoke up for them all. "The Englishman was wrong to remarry so hastily."

"He was fearful of dying without heirs," Rhonwyn said, shrugging, "and he could hardly expect I would return to him. It was a miracle, but the other miracle was that I have found real love with Rafe, my friends. I hold no bitterness any longer toward Edward, and I love his wife, Katherine. I must find her, Morgan. She is a gentle woman, and she has two sons at Haven. One is yet new and at the breast."

"We'll help you, Rhonwyn," Morgan said. "You know you can count on the men of Cythraul."

They slept that night in the hall, cuddling in her old bedspace. Rafe fondled his wife's breasts, but after a purr of pleasure, she warned him off. "We cannot," she told him.

"Why not?" he murmured in her ear, licking softly at it.

"Would you embarrass the men who raised me by letting them hear the sounds of our passion, Rafe?"

In response he took her hand and placed it on his manhood, which was now rock hard. "You will owe me greatly for this enforced abstinence, lady," he told her, and then kissed her mouth sweetly.

"I always meet my debts, my lord," she responded with a smile.

In the late afternoon of the following day Llywelyn ap Gruffydd appeared in the company of Oth. "How is my grandson?" he asked.

"Thriving, and with your chin, my lord," she told him.

The prince turned and looked at Rafe sharply. "Is this the one they married you to after Edward de Beaulieu betrayed you?"

"Aye, and I love him, so there is no harm done," Rhonwyn quickly replied. "Rafe, come and give your hand in friendship to my sire."

Rafe held out his hand to Llywelyn ap Gruffydd. "My lord."

The prince grasped the hand and said, "If she is happy, then I will accept you, Rafe de Beaulieu. You look a better man than Edward."

"I am," Rafe replied without a moment's hesitation.

Ap Gruffydd stared hard at him a moment, and then he burst out laughing. "By the rood, Rhonwyn, here indeed is your match, and I thank God for it, for certainly I have done little enough for you, daughter."

"You are a great man, Tad, and have great things to do," she answered him with a small smile.

"Your mam always said that to me," he said, a cloud briefly flitting over his features.

"I know," Rhonwyn responded.

"Wine, my lord?" Gwilym was at his side with a large goblet.

"Aye," the prince said, taking it and gulping down a swallow. "Come, daughter, and let us sit by the fire while you tell me what it is you desire of me. I will grant it if it is in my power."

They sat, and she explained the unfortunate situation to him as he drank his wine and listened closely. When she had finished, he spoke.

"It will be Rhys ap Daffydd without a doubt who holds the lady Katherine hostage. He is a weasel of a man and a coward to boot. Long ago I caught him in a treacherous plot with the English. Few would have anything to do with him after I exposed him. You were just a wee lass then, Rhonwyn. He always said he would have his revenge upon me for it. Now he seeks to take advantage of my dispute with King Edward."

"I think he means to kill you," Rhonwyn said quietly.

"Aye, that would be his way. Then he would gain more favor with his English masters, and Wales would fall to them. I will not have it! We cannot, of course, storm Aberforth, for he might kill the lady Katherine. Yet we still might make him believe I am coming to the aid of my daughter without endangering her."

"First we must be certain Kate is there," Rhonwyn said. "Let us send Oth into Aberforth as your messenger with a date for your meeting with Rhys. Oth will insist upon seeing the hostage so he may return to you and tell you your daughter is being well cared for at Aberforth. Then Rafe, Dewi, and I shall enter the stronghold disguised as wandering entertainers. Such people are always welcome, and I have had experience enough as I worked my way back from Palestine with Glynn. Once inside Aberforth we shall rescue Kate."

"How?" the prince demanded.

"I shall kill Rhys," Rhonwyn said quietly.

"How?" the prince asked as quietly.

"With my alborium, Tad. I can do it, never fear," Rhonwyn told him. "This man has taken Kate from her family and means you harm. I have no qualms about killing him."

"So, daughter, you would do this for me, would you?" the prince said, rather surprised by her words.

"I was raised here, my lord, and I was taught duty to family and to Wales. I have an English husband whom I love, and I am content to recognize the English king as my overlord. But this business has little to do with England. It is Welsh business, my lord, and it must be concluded by the Welsh. This Rhys ap Daffydd is a man of guile and dishonor. Both he and his vile actions shame our race."

"And you, Englishman, you are content to allow your wife to do this thing?" ap Gruffydd asked Rafe.

"Aye," Rafe said. Then he continued, "My wife is not some delicate flower in need of my protection. She is a strong woman, and frankly at times I have been glad for her protection. If she believes she can do this, then I am content to let her. But know that if she should fail, I will, myself, see to this man's death for the temerity he has shown in taking my sister as his hostage."

The prince of the Welsh smiled slowly. "This time, daughter," he said, "you have married a real man. I do like you, Rafe de Beaulieu." He clapped his son-in-law upon the back in a friendly gesture.

It was decided that the prince, along with a troop of men-at-arms from Cythraul, would travel several hours behind the others. They would not enter Aberforth until signaled. Rhonwyn, Rafe, and Dewi would come to Rhys ap Daffydd's castle in their guise as traveling entertainers. Rhonwyn had decided to dress herself as a female in boy's garb, the better to entice the castle's master. Oth would leave Cythraul in the morning, Rhonwyn and her party would come two hours behind him, and the prince and his men would be four hours behind them.

The evening meal was served, and afterward Gwilym sang several ballads of ancient times. "But," he told them as he so often did, "my laddie, Glynn, has sung and played them better."

"Now he sings and plays for God," Rhonwyn said.

"My only son, a priest," the prince muttered, disgusted.

"He's happy," Rhonwyn said quietly. "Besides, when you can celebrate your marriage to de Montfort's daughter, get yourself a son on her. That child will be your legitimate heir."

"I've been betrothed to the wench for long enough, but she is hidden in a convent in France, and the English will not give her permission to travel through their lands so we may marry," ap Gruffydd groused. "Edward Longshanks is in fear of de Montfort's daughter, the fool."