The Reckoning - 3 (60 page)

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Or expect to find in the next." He smiled, for he still found it easier to jest than to reveal secrets of the soul. "If it is true, as the Church claims, that a man who loves his wife with excessive passion is guilty of adultery, then I am sinning on such a scale that I'll likely be atoning for all eternity."
Ellen found herself smiling even as she blinked back tears. She could think of no promise extravagant enough, no vow sweeping enough to convey what she felt at that moment. She tried, though. "I may not be able to promise you a son, but this I can and do swear, that I shall devote my every waking hour to making you happy. You'll have no regrets, beloved, not as long as I have breath in my body ..."
And then she was laughing, laughing as she'd not have believed possible even a quarter hour ago, for he'd murmured, "Could I persuade you to pledge that upon a holy relic?"
Kissing her upturned face, tasting the laughter of her lips, breathing in the violet scent she'd long since tired of, but kept using because she knew he liked it, Llewelyn felt as if a burden had been lifted from them both. Mayhap now she'd no longer be haunted by dreams of empty cradles, mayhap she'd no longer flinch at sound of a baby's wail. Mayhap now he could tell her of
Elizabeth's pregnancy.
"But I do not want you to give up all hope, my love," he said quietly. "For all that we'll be wed four years at Martinmas, we've only been sharing a bed for less than a twelvemonth. If we keep planting enough seeds, who knows what crop we might eventually harvest?"
Ellen wrapped her arms around his neck. She was taller than most women and they fit together well; he slid his hands under her mantle, almost able to span her waist with his fingers. She surprised him then, said in perfect
Welsh, "Rydw i eisau cusan."
Laughing, he did as she bade, gave her a probing, passionate kiss that lasted until they both were breathless. "Promise me," he said, "that no matter what lies ahead for us, you'll remember what I am about to say now. You hold my heart and I could not envision my world without you. I want a son, yes, but it is you I need, and that is something I've never said to any woman."
"I promise," she said softly, and he looked for a long moment into her face, until he was satisfied that she meant it.
"Come, cariad," he said. "Lef s go home."

25
ABEREIDDON, WALES
July 1280
H.
riuGH returned to North Wales in mid-July, reaching Abereiddon soon after the turquoise twilight had begun to shade into the star-scattered dark of a summer night. The conversi the lay brothers who worked the mountain granges of the
Welsh Cistercian abbeyswere already abed. But light and laughter drifted from the open window of the guest hospice, and Hugh headed in that direction.
The door was ajar, and Hugh paused on the threshold to savor the sight before him, to savor his homecoming. The sceneso pleasing to Hughwas not one to please their austere hosts, though, the somber Cistercians who sought rustic solitude, spiritual peace, and a Spartan life far from urban enticements and feminine wiles. The White Monks scorned cities as cesspools of corruption and sin. Nor did they welcome womendaughters of Eveinto their pristine domains, not even their Prince's lady. Yet here in their own guest hospice were gathered those worldly temptations they'd chosen to shun, boisterous banter and clinking mead cups and soft female laughter.
A noisy dice game was in progress, to the inevitable accompaniment of rowdy jesting and good-natured squabbling; Hugh made a mental note to join in the fun after he'd reported to Lady Ellen. Not all the men in the hall were focusing upon the dice game. Nearby, Juliana was being besieged by the most persistent of her suitors, brothers who seemed vastly amused that they should be rivals for the same woman. Juliana appeared to be enjoying their joint courtship, laughing as they took turns whispering sweet nothings in her ear.
But she was not likely to accept either one as a serious swain, although Hugh and Ellen wished she would, for Rhun and Rhys were both good lads, and Bran was rune years dead.

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Shifting his gaze from Juliana, Hugh began to look for his lady, -n found her ensconced in a window-seat. She'd not yet noticed him, Srterly intent uPon tne narP balanced on her knee and the man seated her s"^e' ^ Montargis, Hugh had often seen Ellen in just that pose, frowning over the harp that had been her betrothal gift from her Welsh prince/ a bittersweet keepsake of all she'd lost. It seemed miraculous to Hugheven nowthat those girlhood hopes should have been resurrected from the ashes of Evesham, that she should be sharing the window-seat and harp on this summer's eve with Llewelyn ap Gruffydd.
Llewelyn had his arm around her waist, and as he showed her a new chord, their fingers brushed and then entwined upon the harp strings. Hugh stayed where he was, reluctant to intrude, for he knew such tranquil moments were hard to come by. It seemed to him that in Wales, trouble was always lurking in ambush, just down the road.
Mountain nights were often chill, even in July, and fire burned in the center hearth; smoke smudged the whitewashed walls, clung to clothes, watered eyes, and occasionally a puff or two would escape through the roof louvre out into the starlit sky. Caitlin had pulled a stool as close to the light as she could get without being singed. She was scowling down at the cloth draped across her lap, wielding her needle with such obvious distaste that Hugh could not help grinning. Caitlin's aversion to the needlework at which even queens were expected to excel was almost as notorious as her unseemly penchant for solitude and cats and secrets. But the very idiosyncrasies that made her so suspect in other eyes were what endeared her to Hugh; he who valued integrity above all else could recognize it in any guise. Moreover, he took pleasure in
Caitlin's utter unpredictability; he never had a clue as to what was going on behind those leaf-green eyes of hers, never knew what to expect from her.
As he stepped into the hall, Hugh was met with a crescendo of barking. Ellen's pampered pet led the charge, sprinting toward him, low-slung white belly scraping the floor rushes, for Hugh had managed to win what still eluded
Llewelyn, the jealous little dog's good will. The other dogs were in full tongue now, too: Llewelyn's elegant greyhounds, a

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As they chased the stable curs outside, Llewelyn summoned his OVfn well-trained dogs with a whistle, and Hugh joined Caitlin by the hearth reaching into his mantle to reveal the real attraction, a kitten rucked int' a woven pouch.
Caitlin gave a delighted cry. "It is as white as Phylip's deer! Wher ever did you find it?"
"At an inn in Dorsetshire. The innkeeper was going to drown her
I and so I offered to take her." Hugh smiled sheepishly, a little embar-
rassed by his own soft-heartedness. "She's stone-deaf, but I figure(j you'd just see that as a challenge," he said, depositing the tiny, spitting creature into Caitlin's outstretched palms. With Ellen's Hiraeth at his heels, he then crossed the hall, knelt by the window-seat.
Llewelyn at once waved him up, and he reached again into his mantle, this time drawing out several rolled sheets of parchment. "This is for you, my lady.
Lord Amaury asked me to thank you both for your generosity. He was especially pleased by the books, marveled that you had been able to find so many, for he said he well knows books are scarcer than hen's teeth, and as costly a luxury as sugar."
Ellen was running her fingers over her brother's letter, but she seemed hesitant to untie the cord. "Tell me how he fares, Hughthe truth," she added, needlessly, for Hugh could not lie to her.
"There must be days when he despairs," he said, feeling his way with care.
"But he is not a man to admit to them."
"No," Ellen agreed, "he would not do that. . ."
Hugh felt very thankful then, that he did have some comfort to offer. "This I
can say for certes, my lady, that Lord Amaury finds life far easier at
Sherborne than ever he did at Corfe. His chamber is not as barren, or as cheerless, and he does not lack for blankets or candles or food to his liking.
The castellan is quite friendly, too, comes and plays chess with Lord Amaury when his duties allow."
Hugh paused to smile at Juliana, who'd just joined them; Caitlin and her kitten had long since sauntered over. "Lord Amaury even has a pet popinjay now, a gift from his friends at the papal court. He says it comes from the
Holy Land, and it is a rare sight to see, screeching like a Paris fish peddler, preening feathers green as emeralds. Lord Amaury keeps it in a wicker cage, and amuses himself by teaching it to swear in Latin!"
As Hugh hoped, that evoked laughter. "He did bid me, my lady/ to ask you to procure for him a lute or gittern. I assured him you' Hugh seemed to swallow his own words, so abruptly did he cut himse" off. "Who is she?"
Even before they followed Hugh's awestruck gaze, they knew who they'd see entering the hall, for in the fortnight since she'd joined Ellen s

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household, Eluned ferch lago had been turning male heads like spinning tops-
"Who? That plain, drab little sparrow in the green gown?" Llewelyn aueried, and Hugh looked at him as if he'd lost his mind before realizing that he was being teased.
"For a moment there, my lord, I thought you'd either gone blind Or daft! She is . . ." Words failing him, Hugh could only shake his head in wonderment.
They were all laughing at him now, but he was too bewitched to care, unable to take his eyes from the vision across the hall. "What is her name? Does she have a husband? Do you think she"
"Give me time to answer, Hugh." Ellen was delighted, for she was a born matchmaker. "Eluned is a widow, and my newest lady of the chamber. I had suggested to my lord husband that if I had one of his countrywomen as a handmaiden, I would have more opportunities to practice my Welsh. So what does he do? He finds me the most bedazzling creature to draw breath since Helen first looked upon Troy!"
"Really?" Llewelyn sounded surprised. "I cannot say I noticed."
"Of course not, darling," Ellen said. "Why, it was by pure chance that you nearly walked into that wall yesterday just as Eluned was passing by."
Llewelyn bit his lip, struggled manfully to keep from laughing, a battle he lost as soon as his eyes met Ellen's. Hugh was normally amused by their bantering, but now he shifted impatiently and cleared his throat, hoping they'd take the hint. Mercifully, Llewelyn did. Rising to his feet, he winked at his wife. "I'll be back, cariad, once I've had a few words with the Lady
Eluned. Hugh ... is there any chance you'd like to come with me?"
Watching as the men crossed the hall, Juliana nudged Ellen playfully. "You have that look again," she chided, "that melting, dewyeyed, adoring-wife look!"
"I do not!" Ellen protested, and then, "How can I help myself? He is so generous, Juliana. Once Eluned sees how high Hugh stands in her Prince's favor, she is bound to be impressed. Yet if I try to thank Llewelyn, he'll act as if he'd done nothing at all."
"I'm sure you will find a way to show your gratitude," Juliana murmured, slyly enough to make Ellen laugh and blush at the same time. "It appears," she said cheerfully, "as if our Hugh is well and truly smittenat long last!"
"And to judge by the way she is smiling at Hugh now, I'd venture "is chances are" Ellen stopped suddenly in mid-sentence, having belatedly become aware of
Caitlin's utter stillness, her frozen silence. One glance at the girl's white, stunned face was enough. She caught

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sight, nothing would do but that he must marry her, and since she w no less smitten with him, many they did, without even waiting for tk banns to be posted."
Ellen could not help smiling at that, for although she did not approv of their haste, she understood it. A man of honor like Hugh would accept as a tenet of faith their society's dichotomy, that there wer women to be bedded and women to be wedded. The Lady Eluned was l^a woman of good birth, of good name, and therefore a bride, not a bedmate; Ellen knew that, for Hugh, it was as simple as that.
"Eluned's family was not that keen on the match. The Welsh do not object to an alltud womana foreignerwedding one of their own for the woman takes her husband's nationality. It is different, though when a Welshwoman weds an alien, a Sais like Hugh. In England, her family's opposition would have ended their courtship then and there. But Welshwomen enjoy freedoms that their sisters in Christendom would not dare to dream about, Blanche. Welsh law says that 'a woman is to go the way that she willeth.' Whilst a virgin maid must consult her kin ere she weds, a Welsh widow may wed whom she pleases, and it pleased Eluned to wed our Hugh. I would rather they had waited, that they slowed their headlong race to the altar, but they were deaf to my pleas, and I
could not very well insist. Hugh is a man grown of four and twenty, old enough to know his own mind, and I owe him more than I can ever repay. I could only wish him well, wish them luck."
Rereading her last words, she found herself hoping that Hugh and Eluned would not need as much luck as she feared. Dipping the pen into her ink-horn, she confessed to Blanche her concern for the Pope's health; the Archbishop had heard he'd been ailing. Left unsaid was her fear that a new pope might not be as willing to champion Am lory's cause as Nicholas IV had been.
"I always dread the coming of August, Blanche. It was even more troubling than usual this year, for this was the fifteenth anniversary of Evesham. Llewelyn knows it is ever a difficult time for me, does whatever he can to raise my spirits. And so last week he gave me the most amazing present. It is a mirror, but utterly unlike any I'd ever seen, for it is neither polished brass not a sheet of glass over metal. This mirror s glass has a silvered back, and reflects images with uncanny accuracyLlewelyn said they are crafted in
Germany, and he'd been trying f°r months to obtain one for me. Once he did, he saved it for when he knew I'd need it the most, in Evesham week. For days afterward, peopl6 were coming to my chamber, shyly asking if they might see it. I beg& to feel as if I had a holy relic, like Llewelyn's fragment of the
Tru Cross!"
VVhen the knock on the door sounded, Ellen's hand jerked, smear-
g the ink. "Enter," she said absently, reaching first for a knife to scrape way the blotted words, and then for a pumice stone to smooth the sure. so intent was she upon her task that it was several moments before she glanced up, saw Caitlin standing in the doorway.
Although Caitlin had rejected every opportunity Ellen had given her to talk about Hugh, Ellen was not surprised to see her now, for she'd been sure that sooner or later Caitlin would need a confidante. Rising swiftly, she held out her hand, beckoned the girl into the chamber.
Caitlin did not know how to begin. She bit her lip, and then blurted out, "It hurts so much."
Ellen slipped her arm around Caitlin's slender shoulders, drew her toward the settle. "I know, lass," she said and sighed, wondering why there were so many salves and balms for a bruised and battered body, but none for a wounded heart.
"Do you?" Caitlin did not mean her question to sound so skeptical, but she had no experience in confiding secrets of the soul. "Do you?" she repeated, puzzled. "How? Was there another man in your life ere you wed my uncle?"