Chapter 36
May, 1177
near Llanlleyn, Gwynedd
Almost immediately, Teleri had second thoughts.
The journey to Rhirid’s summer pastures, a seemingly neverending loop to the west and then south and then east of Rhuddlan—all to avoid running into her husband—was torturous in its duration. It was the longest time she’d ever been on horseback. Her seat and legs were sore from the constant bouncing and her arms ached from clinging to the waist of the man who sat before her. She rode with Dylan ab Owain, who bragged to the others that he’d been the one to convince her to come away with them. Rhirid laughed and said he hoped Dylan would tell William fitz Henry the same when the Norman came for revenge. All the men within hearing laughed heartily. Teleri was irritated. She didn’t appreciate being discussed as if she weren’t sitting right there among them and, besides, hadn’t she played a part in the deception perpetrated on Longsword?
Dylan was a garrulous man and due to circumstance, Teleri was a captive audience. Most of the time she didn’t mind, for she learned quite a bit about Rhirid; for instance, that he had been furious when informed that his father was dead and the role of chief had passed to his cousin. “The very moment we were released from service, we flew back here,” Dylan told her. “I don’t think I’d ever seen Rhirid so angry, even when Maelgwn wouldn’t take action against William fitz Henry after he refused to pay the galanas owing on that poor shepherd his men killed. Challenged his cousin before he’d even gotten off his horse and dispatched him almost as quickly.”
Teleri was thrilled. “Was there a lot of blood?”
“Oh, sure!” Dylan nodded vigorously. Then his tone became sheepish. “To tell you the truth of it, Lady Teleri, I didn’t actually witness the contest. I would never have heard the end of it if my wife had discovered I’d come back and not gone straight to greet her.”
Teleri laughed. She could scarcely imagine the size and temper of the person who might strike fear into the heart of such a formidable-looking man as Dylan ab Owain. “I suppose your release means my uncle has forgiven Lord Rhirid for firing the abbey,” she said to him.
“I doubt the prince even knows about it yet,” he answered cheerfully.
“What do you mean?” she asked, startled. “You said you were released. You didn’t—” but she had to leave the question unspoken because she didn’t know how to make running away sound noble.
“We were! Only not by Dafydd but by the earl of Chester.”
There was a pause. “I’m a little confused,” Teleri said. “I thought Rhirid had gone to the Perfeddwlad…”
“We had. But then the prince sent us to the earl, who was having a bit of trouble with Gruffudd ap Madog of Powys. But we soon sent him back over the border.” Although she was sitting behind him, Teleri could sense Dylan’s chest expanding with pride. “The earl was very grateful for our help,” he added, “and paid us handsomely.”
Teleri thought to herself that it was strange Hugh hadn’t mentioned knowing Rhirid, even though she must have referred to him a dozen times. “The earl never spoke of you…”
“No? Well, he told us all about you.” He twisted his head around and grinned at her.
She felt herself blush. “Did he?” And hadn’t she been thinking that Hugh seemed to have completely forgotten her? “I’m flattered he remembered me…”
“You shouldn’t be so modest, Lady Teleri,” Dylan said, laughing. “Who could meet you even once and not remember your beauty?”
But flattery was no comfort when Rhirid finally halted his men and they prepared a rough camp for the night. Teleri was used to a mattress stuffed with feathers and sweet grass, placed on a rope-slung bedframe, but she had to content herself with a fitful sleep on the ground with several donated cloaks for cushioning and covering. In the morning there was no woman to help her with her toilet. Her body was stiff from lying on the hard ground and ached from the brutal exercise of the day before. She felt unclean and unkempt. The hair she’d left loose to impress the chief was tangled and windblown, and somewhere she’d lost her veil. Her clothing was streaked with dust and grass stains and she was embarrassingly aware that she reeked of horse.
Her mood was no better than her appearance. When Dylan, greeting her in a loud, friendly voice, came to hoist her up onto his horse, she instead demanded to see Rhirid, who had already started off with Guri and a half dozen other men. More familiar with unpleasant female moods than he wished to be, Dylan dropped the smile and hesitantly suggested the fastest way to see the chief was to mount up and follow him at a quick pace but before the last word passed his lips, Teleri indicated her displeasure with this proposal by turning her back on him.
A man was dispatched to overtake Rhirid.
Rhirid’s expression, when he returned to the campsite, was neutral. He jumped off his horse, walked up to Teleri and fixed unblinking grey eyes on her. “Lady Teleri?”
She was encouraged by his apparent deference. “Lord Rhirid, I am sorry to make you come back but as the niece of a prince and the wife of the son of the king of England, I’m sure I’m entitled to ride with the chief of Llanlleyn and not merely one of his warriors,” she said imperiously.
“Is that so?” Rhirid said. “Despite the other considerations?”
She frowned. “What other considerations?”
“For one, the fact that Dylan’s horse is the largest, making the ride most comfortable for you and him and even the beast. For another, the fact that Dylan isn’t merely one of my warriors but my champion and if by misfortune we’re attacked, he’s more than able to protect you. For another, he’s friendly and likes the company.” Rhirid moved closer towards Teleri with every sentence, his voice growing sharper and more ominous, until she was so crowded that she had to take a step backward. “And finally, the most important consideration: because that’s the way I ordered it!”
The on-lookers maintained an awkward silence. But Teleri wasn’t easily intimidated. “I’m asking you to reconsider your order,” she said in a less offensive tone, her only concession to his anger. “Obviously you know better than I do our chances of being attacked but I’m willing to take the risk. And while I found Dylan ab Owain a genial companion, I would like to speak to you regarding your plans for Rhuddlan and Lord William.”
He stared at her in amazement. “I don’t discuss my plans with my hostages, Lady Teleri!”
“I hardly consider myself your hostage, Lord Rhirid,” she retorted. “I came quite willingly. I hate the Normans as much as you do.”
“Really?” His eyebrows shot up. “I heard there’s only one Norman you truly hate. Your husband.”
Now Teleri was angry. “Who told you that?”
“The earl of Chester. He told us a lot about you.” He gave her a sly look. “He said you didn’t seem to despise him very much.”
Chuckles rippled through the line of Rhirid’s warriors. Teleri flushed but lifted her chin. “Men tend to have an exaggerated opinion of their appeal to the opposite sex,” she said coolly. “Now, may I ride with you? If you don’t wish to discuss your plans, perhaps you’d rather tell me what other gossip you picked up from the earl.”
This time when his men laughed, it was directed at him. For a brief moment, he felt a flicker of sympathy for Longsword.
They traveled into the hills. Dylan had told her that after the destruction of Maelgwn’s fortress, a new stronghold was erected in higher country, hopefully out of the reach of the Normans, who hated to pass through the wooded areas which made them so vulnerable to Welsh attacks. He’d told her that her kidnapping would put that theory to a stronger test.
Teleri hadn’t dared tell Dylan that he shouldn’t hold his breath waiting for Longsword to come to her rescue.
Traversing the rolling terrain was worse than the never-ending circle they’d made the day before. Rhirid’s revenge for forcing the change of plan was to not speak a word to her on any subject, claiming the noise of the clomping horses and the breezy winds made convers
ation difficult, but as the day wore on, Teleri cared less and less. By late afternoon she was so sore and tired that she was tempted to simply let go of his belt, slide off the horse and die. It was at that point that he half-turned his head and despite the phantom noise told her the fortress wasn’t much farther. But he also warned her not to expect anything as large and grand as Rhuddlan or her uncle’s court. “My father’s men did what they could but we’re still building…”
“I understand,” she answered gravely. What did it matter? As long as there was a bed for her somewhere inside.
Finally, they burst out of the shadowy canopy of the trees and into a sunlit meadow. Teleri was glad of the sun; its heat soothed a bit of the ache in her shoulders and legs and she felt somewhat revived. She craned her neck to get a look around Rhirid’s broad back but all she could see were a dozen or so cattle grazing in the near distance, unaffected by the sudden intrusion of horsemen into their domain.
Not for long. “Hold tight!” Rhirid instructed and without further warning kicked his mount into a fast trot and then a gallop. He stood up in his stirrups and let out a long, exultant shout which was promptly echoed by every one of his warriors until the air was filled with the deafening din of thundering hooves and jubilant voices. All her pain forgotten, Teleri felt a rush of excitement as the wind blew by her face. The Llanlleyn men shouted to celebrate their victory over the Normans and the thrill was infectious. She was proud of her people; at last they had beaten the foreigners.
The unfinished fortress occupied the highest point of the undulating meadow and rushing up to it from below as they were doing, she could see nothing of it but a long, wooden palisade, the top end of each stake carved to a point, with a gate in the center, flung open and full of people. She could feel the powerful muscles of Rhirid’s horse straining as it tackled this final rise until Rhirid finally reined in, slowing the animal to a snorting, prancing walk as they reached the gate. The cheering on-lookers moved aside to allow them to pass through. Teleri’s heart thudded wildly and happily. The people waved and called out to Rhirid. As they rode through the gate, her attention was diverted by something fluttering above their heads, and she glanced up to the top of one of the spikes. There she saw the greyish head of a man, his long, black hair flapping in the breeze. She gasped.
Rhirid heard her and turned his head. “My cousin,” he said over his shoulder, in a voice hoarse from shouting. “How will you like to see William fitz Henry next to him?”
Dylan’s wife stood among a small group of women and watched the parade of horsemen file one by one into the fortress. First to enter was Rhirid and, without trying to appear too obvious, she craned her neck slightly to catch a glimpse of the woman sitting behind him, arms clasped around his waist. “So that’s her,” she murmured to her nearest companion. “She looks very young. Barely older than a child. And thin. She certainly isn’t the beauty I’ve heard tell of, despite her fine clothes.”
“Her gown’s in a terrible state,” another woman added. “And look at her hair! Tangled and snarled…”
“It’s lovely hair, though, when it’s combed out and clean,” Goewyn’s companion said. “With the sunlight on it, her head seems to glow as though on fire.”
The second woman giggled. “That must be painful.”
“Look at her stand there,” Goewyn said with a deprecating sniff. Rhirid had handed Teleri down to an eager pair of arms which had grabbed her around the waist and swung her off the horse and onto the ground in one graceful motion. “Her nose in the air and the unfriendly mouth. She must be thinking we’re all peasants and herders!”
“No, I’m sure she must be terrified,” her companion ventured. “She’s used to only her uncle’s court and her husband’s castle. You ought to have heard the noise she made when the prince told her she was to marry the Norman and leave the Perfeddwlad. He had to practically pry her fingers from the bedposts to get her outside and onto a horse for the journey to Rhuddlan and she hasn’t left since.”
Goewyn smirked. “My husband said the earl of Chester told Rhirid that Lady Teleri hates Lord William fitz Henry so much she would jump at the chance to leave him. She isn’t terrified, unless it’s to imagine that she’ll have to do without her usual luxuries for a while.”
The woman next to Goewyn didn’t answer. She didn’t know why she was defending Teleri anyway. The baby in her arms started fussing and she shifted him to her other hip, quietening him with low, soothing noises.
“Goewyn, my love!” A loud, hearty voice startled the watchful group, intent on Teleri’s smallest movement.
“Shhh!” Goewyn hissed. She glared at her husband, whose arrival had caught her off guard. His outstretched arms dropped slowly to his sides.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered, bewildered.
She turned an appraising eye on him. “I hope, Dylan, that you did not offer your services as a means of transport to the prince’s niece…” she said.
He laughed nervously. “Oh—of course not, Goewyn! Didn’t you see her with Rhirid?”
“How did she travel, Dylan?” the second woman asked. “Did she complain about every bump along the way?”
“No, no; not so bad as that!”
“How would you know she didn’t complain if you weren’t riding with her?” his wife demanded.
“Because I heard her when we stopped for the night! And I never said she didn’t complain at all; she made one or two noises! Aches and pains and the like…”
Goewyn looked unconvinced but luckily for Dylan, Rhirid chose that moment to approach the group, and Goewyn switched her attention to him. She saw that although he was mindful to greet everyone politely, his eyes lingered on her companion. The change in him whenever he looked at the young, dark-haired woman was remarkable. For months now, since the feud with Rhuddlan began, Rhirid’s expression was invariably tense and unsmiling. His father’s unexpected death and his new responsibilities as chief had added years to his face. But he seemed to cast off these burdens and relax into something like his former, calmer self when Olwen stepped into his line of vision…
It was quite obvious to Goewyn that Rhirid was infatuated with his hostage. She had mentioned as much to Dylan but he had dismissed the idea with loud and unrestrained laughter. It was probably the first time in their marriage that he’d had the last word because he refused to be convinced.
But Goewyn would not be dissuaded. In fact, she thought she approved. As Rhirid had no close female relative to guide him and as she was the wife of his champion and right hand, it was up to her to direct him towards the arms of the proper mate. She promptly took Olwen under her wing and was pleased to find her mild-tempered and easy going. She was further encouraged to learn that although the woman had two sons with one of the Normans at Rhuddlan, she was not married to him. The portents appeared perfect but there was one problem: Olwen did not return Rhirid’s admiration. She was angry over her forced abduction, worried about the affect of it on her sons and concerned for the servants and laborers who had been left behind…
Rhirid asked Goewyn to choose several women to attend to Teleri as befitted her station.
“I will serve, lord,” Olwen offered. “I did it once before and I know her habits.”
“Thank you, but no,” Rhirid said. He gestured at the baby. “You’ve more than enough to do now. There are plenty of others.”
Olwen said nothing more and after giving Goewyn further instructions for the feast that night, Rhirid took his leave of the women. Dylan seized the opportunity to escape with his chief.
“Well…” Goewyn said archly. “He’s very protective of your time.”
Olwen frowned. “Most likely, he doesn’t want us to speak to each other because we’re both hostages.”
“Do you think so?” Goewyn smiled indulgently. “I think he merely wants you to look kindly on him.”
“After what he’s done to my family, that would take a miracle.”
“But you can’t blame him for this,
Olwen,” the other woman protested. “It wasn’t his idea. It was part of the agreement…”
Olwen’s voice was sharp. “What agreement?”
Goewyn hesitated. She was torn between desire for Olwen to have a better opinion of Rhirid and apprehension that the chief might not want his private business, which she had learned from Dylan, discussed in public.
But, then, Dylan shouldn’t have told her if he didn’t want her to repeat it.
“An agreement between Rhirid and the earl of Chester,” she said, and was rewarded with a shocked gasp. “Don’t ask me how or why, but somehow Rhirid and his men ended up in Hawarden fighting for the earl against some chief or another from Powys. Afterwards, the earl went up to the Perfeddwlad and then to Rhuddlan and when he returned, he told Rhirid that he’d heard about the trouble between him and Lord William. He told Rhirid he wanted to help but he couldn’t do it openly. He gave Rhirid weapons and horses and in exchange there were two things he wanted Rhirid to do for him. Kidnap you and Lady Teleri.”
“But why?” Olwen said, shaken. “Why?”
“Dylan doesn’t know the reason. He says Rhirid doesn’t know it. They only know the earl hates Lord William as much as they do and he wants to destroy Rhuddlan and Lord William in it.” Goewyn looked at the other woman anxiously. “Does this ease your mind a little with regard to Rhirid?”
“My mind was never concerned with Rhirid ap Maelgwn,” Olwen answered absently. She no longer seemed to be paying attention to Goewyn. Instead she stared into the distance. Those closest to her heard her whisper, “Oh, Richard…”, and then Henry, perhaps sensing the change in his mother’s mood, started crying.