A Memory of Love (34 page)

“It won't once it's on. You are too fair, Rhonwyn. You have not the look of a young man used to the outdoors, and you must. If your pant leg rode up and your white skin were seen, or if you squatted to pee and your bare white bottom were visible, it would give the game away. I know it must be difficult taking orders from your little brother, but please, for all our sakes, do it! Dye your hair first so the girl who helps you afterward does not know your hair's true color. It is for her safety,” Glynn concluded.

They left her. Rhonwyn sighed. She had cut her hair so that it now bobbed at the level of her chin. Hopefully it would grow quickly, and by the time Edward returned home it would be a respectable length once again. Rhonwyn stripped naked, and finding the pitcher of black dye behind the larger pitcher, she poured it into the basin, mixing it with a tiny bit of water, and then dipped her head, her fingers moving rapidly through her scalp to completely cover her tresses. She then rinsed her hair with clear water and hoped the transformation was complete, for she had no glass or metal mirror in which to check her efforts. She quickly began rubbing the brownish dye from the larger pitcher into her skin. When only her shoulders and back remained white, she called out, and almost immediately a young girl entered the chamber.

“Here, lady, let me finish the task you have begun so well.” She took the rag and began smoothing the dye down Rhonwyn's back and across her shoulders.

It took a moment to sink in, but Rhonwyn suddenly realized that the girl was speaking in the Norman tongue. It had been many months since she had heard it, and she wondered if she could still speak it herself. She and Fulk had spoken together in Arabic, and her brother and Oth had spoken in the language of the Welsh. The words, however, came easily when she tried. “You speak the tongue of the Franks,” she said.

“My father—this is his house in which you are now standing—is a merchant. I am his only child and help him in his business. Sometimes I even travel to Carthage. I speak several languages.”

“You speak well,” Rhonwyn noted, and then said nothing more.

When the dye covered her skin completely and had dried, she dressed. The merchant's daughter had departed the chamber with all the evidence of Rhonwyn's disguise. She was pulling on her boots when her brother entered and looked her over with a critical eye.

“You've bound up your breasts?” he asked.

She nodded and stood up for his final inspection.

“Have you found the secret pocket in your cape?” he asked her.

“There are actually two,” she told him, “and both are well hidden and well filled. I will keep my cape with me at all times.”

“Good! Now, here is our story. I am the minstrel and entertainer. You are my brother and one of my musicians, along with Oth and Dewi.”

“What instrument do I play?” she teased him.

“The tambourine,” he said seriously. “That way if we must perform, you cannot make any error. Any fool can play the tambourine.”

“Thank you,” Rhonwyn said dryly.

“We are ready to go,” he told her.

“You have become so serious, Glynn,” she said to him.

“We are not yet out of Cinnebar, sister. I will not rest until our feet are once again on good Christian soil, nor should you,” he explained. “I am angry that Edward de Beaulie gave you up so easily. He looked for you for only several days before following Prince Edward to Acre. I told him you were alive!
I felt it!
But none of them would listen to me, Rhonwyn. Now it is my duty to return you to Haven Castle and to your husband. I will do what that fine knight of yours could not. I will bring you home!”

Her eyes filled with tears. “You are a man,” she said softly.

“Aye,” he agreed. “Now, sister, let us go. Do you know what today is? It is the eve of Christ's Mass. With luck I shall have us home by Midsummer's Eve, possibly before. Come now!”

They traveled by caravan to the coast, taking a ship from Tunis to the port of Cagliari on the island of Sardinia. After several weeks in Sardinia they found a vessel that was sailing for Aigues-Mortes, in the kingdom of Languedoc. As it was winter the seas farther north were not safe, and so they decided to travel overland to Calais, crossing over into England from there. They purchased horses in Aigues-Mortes. The beasts were serviceable, but not so fine that they would be stolen by any except the most desperate. Glynn also purchased a sword for his sister and a dagger as well.

Their Arabic garb was bartered for the more conventional clothing of the region. Rhonwyn exchanged her pantaloons and vest for chausses and a tunic that came to her calf. She retained her sherte, her cloak, and her boots. The roads were never really safe, and so they traveled with various trains, paying their way with their songs. It took many weeks to reach the French coast.

In the month of May, however, they finally arrived at Calais. There was no difficulty in obtaining passage aboard a vessel crossing the channel. Selling their horses, they paid their passage, reaching Dover on the following day. There they once again purchased mounts for their journey north and west across England to Haven Castle, traveling still in their guise as musicians. In Worcester Rhonwyn sent her brother into the market to see if he could find a fine gown. Even he understood that she could not arrive at Haven with her skin brown and in chausses. The dye had long since worn off her hair, and her tresses were growing, having reached her shoulders once again.

The walnut juice that had stained her skin had faded during their weeks on the road, but Rhonwyn's skin still had a sallow look about it. The night before they reached Haven they stopped to camp by a stream, and Rhonwyn bathed for the first time in weeks, scrubbing her skin with a rag and a small piece of soap she had had Glynn purchase along with the gown. While she was aware hot water would have done a better job, Rhonwyn was satisfied with the results. Besides, tomorrow at Haven she would have her hot bath.

In the morning she dressed herself in her gown of deep blue velvet and the overgown of a lighter blue silk with open side lacing and a center split. There was a twisted blue silk rope girdle about her waist, and she wore a simple white veil with a small circlet that matched her girdle. Before they even came in sight of Haven, Glynn stopped their progress, saying, “I leave you here, sister. Oth and Dewi will escort you home.”

“Why will you not come?” she asked him.

“Because Rafe de Beaulie does not know my true identity, Rhonwyn. I told him I was going to France to contemplate the priesthood when I left the abbey school in Shrewsbury. I can hardly appear with you in tow and easily explain it away. Oth and Dewi will go with you. They will say your father sent them to see if they could find you, and they did. Where you have been is not any-one's business but Edward's. Answer no questions from any others.”

“Where are you going?” Rhonwyn asked her brother.

“Nowhere. I will be here, and Oth and Dewi will keep me informed as to what is going on at Haven. There is a cave in the hillside in the woods that will shelter me. They know the way. Go now and reclaim Haven for yourself and your husband. If you need our tad's aid in ousting Rafe de Beaulie, sister, I will ask him myself.”

The guards at the portcullis gaped with surprise as Rhonwyn rode through and into the courtyard of the castle with her escort. She dismounted, and the first person she saw was Father John.

He paled and crossed himself. “Be you a ghost, lady?” he quavered.

“Nay, it is I, Rhonwyn, and I have at last come home,” she answered him.

“God have mercy on us all,” the priest said. “Lady, you must come with me, for I have much to tell you.”

“In time, good father, in time,” Rhonwyn said. “I want to go into the hall.” She hurried into the castle, the priest running after her in despair. As she entered the hall she saw Enit and called to her. Looking up and seeing the mistress she believed dead, Enit screamed and fainted as the other servants familiar to Rhonwyn gasped with shock. “What is the matter with them?” Rhonwyn said, turning to the priest.

“Surely you know they all thought you dead. The lord sent a message to me and to his cousin when you disappeared. When he returned home from the Holy Land alone we believed it a truth, my lady.”

“
Edward is here? At Haven? When?
Is he in our apartments?” Rhonwyn ran from the hall and up the winding staircase, the priest running after her once again.

“Lady, lady! Wait! There is something you must know!” His tone was so desperate that Rhonwyn stopped and turned to him.

“What must I know?” she said.

“Lord Edward is married,” Father John told her.

“I know. He is my husband,” Rhonwyn said.

“Nay, lady. He is Lady Katherine's husband,” the priest replied.

“How can he be wed to Katherine when he is wed to me?” she demanded angrily. Her heart was hammering furiously.

“You were believed dead, my lady Rhonwyn.” The priest led her back into the hall.

“He hardly mourned me, did he?” she said bitterly.

“You could not be found. There was no trace of you at all. What else could he think? Everyone said you were dead. He finally joined the prince at Acre, but he had never really recovered from his illness. Prince Edward sent the lord home last summer. At the lord's request both the church and the courts declared you dead, leaving Edward de Beaulie free to remarry, which he did last September. He is not a boy, my lady. He needed a wife to give him an heir.”

“Father, I am told we have a visitor.” Katherine de Beaulie came into the hall.

“Indeed, lady,” Rhonwyn said, turning to face her rival. Then she gasped with complete shock. Katherine's belly was so distended that it was more than obvious she was with child. A child that would be shortly born. Rhon-wyn's hand went to her mouth to stifle her cry of pain.

“Oh, God!”
Katherine whispered, her own hand going protectively to her belly. “They said you were dead.”

“Perhaps it were better that I was,” Rhonwyn replied harshly.

At that moment both Edward and Rafe de Beaulie ran into the hall. Edward rushed to Katherine's side, his arm going about her protectively. His eyes blazed angrily.

“You bastard!” Rhonwyn shouted at him.

“So, vixen, you have returned, have you? Well, you are not welcome here, lady. Get you gone!” he said coldly.

“Hospitality was gentler here in my day,” Rhonwyn said dryly. “It touches me, Edward, to see how deeply and truly you mourned my alleged death. Did you ever love me at all, or was it simply the treaty between my father and your king? I shall go to the king, Edward, for you have wronged me terribly by your actions. I disappeared, but there was no proof of my death.”

“Was I to wait forever, lady? You were gone, and no trace of you or Fulk could be found. No ransom was asked. What could any of us think? Was I to mourn you for the rest of my days?” he demanded.

“You did not mourn me at all!” she cried. “You wrote to your cousin asking for Katherine's hand within a month of my disappearance. Then you hurried home afterward to undoubtedly have both church and state declare me dead. It is the only way you could take another wife. Oh, Edward, I loved you, and you betrayed me!”

“You do not know the meaning of love, you coldhearted bitch,” he declared. “And now that you have magically reappeared in our midst, just where were you all these months?”

“In the harem of the caliph of Cinnebar,” Rhonwyn said with devastating effect. “Rashid al Ahmet made me his second wife, and he loved me, but I could not love him, for I kept a memory of our love within my heart. How tragic that that love was nought but a deception on your part. In our months of separation I hoped, I dreamed, I prayed that I might be able to return to you. The very thought of you is what kept me alive. Then my brother came, and I was able to escape. I have ached to return to Haven and to you, Edward de Beaulie. 'Tis a fine homecoming you have given me.”

“Whore!”
he hissed furiously at her. “You shared another man's bed, and you dare to tell me?”

Rhonwyn shook her head sadly at him, but her sorrow was for him. She was not defeated by this turn of events. “Poor Edward,” she said pityingly.

“Did this caliph find your cold heart and resistant body a pleasure, or did he actually wring a cry of passion from you?” Edward said rancorously.

“He taught me the true meaning of passion,” she said quietly. “And, aye, he wrung many a cry of pleasure from me, Edward. He sought to learn the reason I felt such fear of being in a man's arms, and finding it, he freed me from my fears. I came home to share with you all he taught me. Now, instead, I find myself homeless and husbandless. I must decide what I am to do. How dare you, who have lain with others, criticize me. Your actions have shamed us both, but more important, when my father learns of this turn of events, he will be greatly offended, Edward. Your poor king will have to make amends to ap Gruffydd for what you have done. I have learned in my travels since I arrived in England that the king is not well at all. They say he will die before Christ's Mass. But I shall have my justice of you before then, I promise you.” Then Rhonwyn turned to Katherine. “You may have him, lady. I think you perhaps better suited to Edward de Beaulie than I ever was. I would not harm you or the child you carry. Both my brother and I are more than well aware of the stigma of bastardy. It is there even for a prince's children.”

“Where will you go?” Katherine asked.

Rhonwyn thought a moment, and then said, “I do not know.”

“Then you will remain here at Haven until you do know,” Katherine said generously, and turning to her outraged husband, she told him, “The house is mine to direct as I will. Whatever anger you may feel toward the lady Rhonwyn, you cannot throw her out into the cold after her long journey. She must shelter here for the time being. That is my wish.”

“As you please, dearling,” he answered her. Then looking at Rhonwyn, he said, “Where is Glynn?”

“Where you cannot harm him, my lord.”

“Did I ever contemplate such a thing?” he demanded, outraged.

“You were my husband then, and I trusted you. You are no longer my husband, and I do not trust you,” she said icily. Then she said to Katherine in a more kindly tone, “Lady, I thank you for your generous offer, but I think it best I leave this place.” She bowed to them all, and with Oth and Dewi in her wake, she left the great hall.