A Memory of Love (47 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Romance

BOOK: A Memory of Love
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“To the castle of Ifan ap Daffydd's brother, whoever he may be,” Kate said. “From what this Ifan has said, I suspect it has something to do with the Welsh prince, but what, I do not yet know.”

When they reached the small convent where they were to overnight, Ifan ap Daffydd explained to the porteress that he was escorting his sister to the castle of their brother, Rhys ap Daffydd, lord of Aberforth. They were welcomed and fed, and then offered pallets in the guest house. The nun apologized that they had but one space for guests and could not separate the sexes.

“I will sleep outside the guest-house door with my men so my sister may have her privacy,” Ifan ap Daffydd said gallantly. “We are used to sleeping beneath the night sky, good sister.” Having seen the interior of the place, Ifan ap Daffydd felt secure, for it had but one door and the two windows were too high for his captives to use for escape.

In the morning they attended Prime, and then they were given brown bread, a snip of cheese, and cider before they departed. Kate took a coin from her purse and pressed it into the hand of the porteress.

“Thank you, good sister,” she said. “Will you pray for my sister-in-law, Katherine?”

“I will, my child,” the nun said.

“What was that all about?” Ifan ap Daffydd demanded to know as they rode off.

“I gave the nun a coin from my purse. I doubt you thought to do it, Ifan ap Daffydd. Then I asked her to pray for my sister-in-law, Katherine. There was no harm in it. I spoke our tongue, and you were free to hear it. It is customary to pay for one's lodging if you can, and what with your boasting about taking your sister to your broth-er's castle, it would have been expected that you offer the nuns who sheltered us a small donation for our food and accommodation. You men have no sense of propriety.”

He laughed. “I had heard that you were a firebrand.”

“Had you?” she remarked dryly.

They rode all day and sheltered the second night in a dry cave, for there were no religious houses or villages along their route. Their supper and their breakfast the following morning was roasted rabbit, hot in the evening and cold in the morning. They slept, wrapped in their cloaks, on the dirt floor of the cave, a fire at its entrance to discourage any wildlife from entering. They rode all of the third day, finally coming to Aberforth Castle shortly after the early sunset of that autumn day. The castle before them was small but dark and forbidding. Kate shivered nervously, but then pulled herself together as they passed beneath the portcullis into the courtyard.

When they had dismounted they were led into the cas-tle's great hall. There were no fireplaces, but rather a large stone fire pit in the center of the hall that blazed, heating the entire room. To Kate's surprise the stone walls were hung with beautiful tapestries, and there were fragrant herbs scattered upon the stone floor that gave off a sweet odor when stepped upon. Upon the dais was a high board, and seated there eating was a richly dressed black-bearded man with piercing dark brown eyes and black hair.

Ifan ap Daffydd hurried forth, bringing his prisoners with him. He bowed low, and then straightening, he said, “I have brought Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn as you requested, my lord brother.”

The lord of Aberforth looked up and perused Kate. “You do not look like your mother,” he said in a rough voice. “Nor do you favor your tad particularly, lady. However, I see ap Gruffydd's mother in you. She had hair your color. Your mother had hair like gilt thistledown.”

Kate was curious, and she realized she was expected to reply. “You knew my mother?” she said.

“Briefly, though intimately,” he chuckled.

“Why, my lord, have you kidnapped me and had me brought here?” Kate demanded to know. “My husband will be most vexed. He is not a wealthy man and cannot be expected to pay you too exorbitant a ransom.”

Rhys ap Daffydd laughed. “You have your father's overweening pride and your mother's spirit,” he replied. “I want no ransom from your husband, lady. It is your father I have occasion to deal with, and as he will not listen to reason, I thought perhaps if I had custody of his daughter he might be more amenable to … ah, negotiation.”

“You have a quarrel with Prince Llywelyn, and so you have kidnapped me?” Kate was both astounded and outraged. “You are a coward, my lord, if you cannot deal with ap Gruffydd without threatening a woman of his family! I will not help you.”

“You do not understand, Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn,” Rhys said. “Your father has gained his title from the English, but nonetheless we have honored that title because it meant that Wales was left in peace by the English. Now your sire refuses to do fealty to King Edward, thus breaking his bond with England. Edward Longshanks is not an easy man and will not bear this insult. When he comes into Wales to punish your father, we will all suffer for our prince's misbehavior. I have friends in England who have requested that I reason with your father, for all our sakes. Since he has refused to grant me an audience, I must gain his attention in the only way I can, by bringing you here to Aberforth. Your father will not allow you to be harmed.”

Kate remembered what Rhonwyn had said the few rare times she had spoken of her father. It was very unlikely that ap Gruffydd would come to his daughter's aid if it did not serve some good purpose for him. Kate could see that Rhys ap Daffydd was no true patriot. What he did he was doing for his own gain. She suspected he meant to attempt an assassination of Llywelyn ap Gruffydd when he came to rescue his daughter. She saw her own coun-try's hand in such a plot. It was absolutely disgraceful and dishonorable. “Well, my lord, you can but try to reason with my tad,” she told him, “but he never really cared greatly for me as I was not a son.”

“What happened to the lad?” Rhys demanded.

“What lad?” she countered.

“Your little brother” was the reply.

“Glynn? Oh, he died when he was twelve of the pox,” Kate said easily. She knew that if she said Glynn was a religious in the abbey at Shrewsbury, Glynn might very well find himself in danger, too.

“So,” Rhys crowed triumphantly, “you are Llywelyn ap gruffydd's only living heir. He will come for you, female or not.”

“If you say so, my lord,” Kate told him. “Now, I am hungry and I am chilled to the bone, as is my servant. Have me shown to my chamber and have hot food brought to me. I should not want to tell my tad that you were a poor host, Rhys ap Daffydd.”

The lord of Aberforth laughed heartily. “They say you were raised roughly in the Welshry, lady, but you speak as if you were truly a princess born.”

“I am,”
Kate replied loftily. Then she followed a servant who led her to her chamber. When the door had closed behind them, she breathed a deep sigh of relief and said in her own English tongue, “It is obvious that none of these people have ever seen Rhonwyn, Mab. And I fooled them! I actually convinced them I was she.”

“I couldn't understand a word you spoke, lady, but your manner was fearless and proud. What will happen to us now?”

“Our captor is Rhys ap Dafydd, and he is in league with some of our countrymen. I think he means to use the prince's daughter to lure ap Gruffydd here. Then, I believe, he will assassinate him if he can. This is to be done to curry favor with King Edward.”

“And afterward?” Mab ventured.

“I don't know,” Kate answered her servant honestly. “I don't think they will kill us. We are just the bait in the trap. And the prince's daughter is supposed to be wed to an English lord, and the marriage was part of a treaty between our two lands. I suspect they will return us back to England when they have accomplished their nefarious purposes.”

“How do you know he means to kill the prince?” Mab asked.

“I do not, for certain,” Kate replied, “but instinct tells me he lies, Mab.”

“But when the prince comes and sees you are not his child,” Mab fretted, “what will they do?”

“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.”

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