Chapter 38
May, 1177
Llanlleyn, Gwynedd
Ever since she’d first heard his name in connection with Longsword’s attempted murder, Teleri had harbored a few fantasies about Rhirid ap Maelgwn. Her favorite one, in which Rhirid rescued her from her rude and boorish husband, was actually realized. She had indeed been plucked out of Rhuddlan and spirited away by Rhirid. But the moment she’d passed through the gate into Llanlleyn, the fantasy had abruptly ended. The fortress was a forlorn affair, a collection of round wooden buildings chinked with mud and capped with turf set close together upon an expanse of uneven, trampled ground. The living arrangement was old-fashioned, with nothing more than screens separating the sleeping chief from the rest of his people. The unmarried women had their own house and it was here, behind her own arrangement of screens, that Teleri had been put into an insultingly tiny amount of space. With everyone living so close, it was impossible there could be secrets and she was uncomfortably aware that she was the primary topic of conversation.
Rhirid had warned her not to expect anything grand but she hadn’t pictured such a primitive place. And the inhabitants were as dour as their dwellings. At first she’d been perversely flattered by their collective silence, believing them to be awestruck by her status as Prince Dafydd’s niece, but eventually she decided that they were simply unfriendly. Especially the women. The quartet appointed to serve her was mostly silent; its spokesperson was the surprisingly average-sized woman who claimed to be the wife of Dylan ab Owain, but even her words were terse and grudgingly uttered.
To say she was dismayed by this turn of events would have been an understatement. Having been raised by a childless, indulgent uncle, Teleri wasn’t used to disappointment and the stark reality of Llanlleyn hit her hard. She thought that if she’d known the Welsh could have the same contempt for each other that the Normans had for them, then she would never have left Rhuddlan. At least at Rhuddlan she had familiar, doting servants, the outward reverence of all the inhabitants, including the foreigners, and a husband whose actions she could predict. Her fantasy of a triumphant partnership with Rhirid ap Maelgwn hadn’t materialized. The chief hadn’t spoken to her at all since their arrival, despite several requests to Goewyn to arrange an interview. She began to wonder if Goewyn, whose attitude towards her was invariably frosty, was even passing on her messages.
In the meantime, she kept to her tiny space in the women’s house, reluctant to go out among the people who whispered about her and who stopped to stare at her as if she’d suddenly grown a second head. She became increasingly dissatisfied with her decision to leave Rhuddlan, and more querulous with her attendants, prompting daily arguments between Goewyn and Dylan.
“How long is Lord Rhirid planning to keep that woman here?” Goewyn demanded one evening.
Dylan’s hand paused over the sword he was polishing with a square of oiled sheepskin. He looked up at his wife. “Lady Teleri?”
“Who else? Has he got a few others hidden away somewhere?”
Goewyn stood before him with her hands on her hips, the sleeves of her gown pushed up past her elbows. Dylan noticed she was glaring more intensely than usual and that her normally impeccably dressed hair was slightly tousled.
He frowned. “Why are you all wet?”
“She wanted to bathe! It’s wet work! And first the water was too hot and then it grew too cold. And then she was annoyed when I told her there was no scented soap but when I offered to throw crushed herbs in the water instead she very curtly refused. Then she became angry because it was taking so long to comb out her hair but she complained we were too rough with the snarls and knots! Why does she insist on wearing her hair unbound? And her gown!” Goewyn snorted with disbelief. “That’s the best part. She said that under normal circumstances she would have tossed her gown out for rags because it was ruined from rough treatment these past five days but she knows there can’t possibly be anything suitable at Llanlleyn to borrow and so now every day we must take it away and brush and clean it for her to wear again in the morning!” She stepped closer to her husband. “I’m asking you once more, how long is she staying?”
Dylan leaned his sword carefully against the side of the stool on which he sat. From long experience, he’d learned that the best way to avoid a protracted argument, which he couldn’t possibly hope to win, was to ease out of the room slowly, before his wife realized that he was running away from her.
“That’s for Rhirid to decide, Goewyn. You know I have nothing to do with it,” he said mildly.
“You’re his champion! His most important man! He must listen to you if you choose to advise him!”
He stood up and tried to stretch casually. He attempted a different approach. “So she’s a little spoiled. She can’t help it—she was brought up that way by the prince. Just ignore her.”
“I can’t! I’ve been told to wait upon her, Dylan!”
“Goewyn, you know why she’s here. It’s a huge insult to the Norman lord. It’s a great victory we’ve won by stealing the girl away from under her husband’s nose.”
“And are we supposed to keep her until her husband decides to come and get her?” she demanded. “With his army? And the prince’s army? And the king’s army?”
He was beginning to feel irritated. “You don’t understand this business, Goewyn! You just do what you’re told and don’t worry about what will happen tomorrow.”
“The trouble with you men is you never think about tomorrow! You never think at all! You just act!”
“Goewyn, hush!” Dylan whispered nervously. “Rhirid will hear you!”
She glared at him defiantly. “I hope he does! I would like him to tell me why it isn’t it enough we lost Llanlleyn once but now we must be threatened again! His father, blessed man, would never have countenanced this action!” Her voice rose sharply. “Where are you going?”
He took up his sword and swiftly retreated without answering. Although cowardly, it seemed to be the safest course.
Olwen didn’t know which was worse: Teleri’s reportedly atrocious behavior or Goewyn’s ceaseless complaints about it. She remained silent on both subjects because she didn’t believe it was her place to express an opinion under the circumstances, but a strange thing happened as the days passed. She became aware that her status at Llanlleyn was bizarrely high. The men were invariably deferential to her and the women treated her with the same respect they accorded Goewyn. It was to do with Rhirid, of course. She knew from her own instinct and Goewyn’s none-too-subtle hints, that he was besotted with her. For another woman, perhaps, this would have had a useful purpose but Olwen was still angry at being taken out of her home and fearful of what was meant for Richard. She maintained a cool demeanor around Rhirid. She never expected to be asked to use her influence to persuade him to divulge his plans for his hostages.
Her initial reaction to Goewyn’s request was negative. She wanted to have as little as possible to do with Rhirid and it was already enough that he seemed to continually turn up in the places she visited—her access unlimited on his order—and that he frequently embarrassed her by sending her the choicest parts of the meat from his own table. Now Goewyn wanted her to risk his misinterpretation of their relationship by approaching him. She refused.
But Goewyn persisted and as time wore on, Olwen started to relent. After all, she reasoned, it was perfectly natural for her to want to know what was going to happen to her and her boys…and she had to admit to herself that she did want to know. Additionally, she couldn’t deny that Goewyn’s fears of another destruction of Llanlleyn were well-founded. Richard had told her about the Norman raid on the original stronghold and she didn’t doubt that Longsword would want to exact a similar revenge—and probably more dire—this time. Why should the innocent suffer the loss of their homes simply to assuage the wounded reputations of the combatants?
But the most compelling reason turned out to be her desire to repay Goewyn for the kindnesses the other woman had shown her, particu
larly after she’d learned the poor esteem in which Teleri was held. As in most small holdings, the women of Llanlleyn were a tight-knit group but Goewyn’s warm example had admitted her without reservation. It was years since Olwen had been part of the larger population, and she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the camaraderie, the friendships and the gossiping of a group of women. She was by nature a friendly, generous person and despite the presence of two serving women and half a dozen male laborers, she’d often felt lonely in the relative isolation of her manor. She could almost wish to live forever in a place like Llanlleyn; perhaps, then, Richard’s long absences would be easier to bear…
“Very well,” she told Goewyn. “I’ll ask him. But don’t expect a miracle. Men can be very close-mouthed when it comes to their plans. If Dylan won’t tell you anything, why would Rhirid tell me?”
“Because he’s in love with you and trying to make you fall in love with him,” Goewyn said matter-of-factly. “So if you ask him a question, he won’t refuse to answer it because he wants to get on your good side.”
Olwen opened her mouth to say that there was little chance of that happening but Goewyn looked so eager that she couldn’t bring herself to dash her hopes. “Very well,” she repeated instead. “How will it be arranged?”
“Don’t you worry! I’ll pass along a message through Dylan. Just keep yourself looking nice.”
“We’ve got trouble.”
Rhirid glanced up from his task, alarmed by Dylan’s sudden materialization at his elbow and his grim pronouncement. “What trouble? Normans?”
“That wouldn’t be trouble; that would be pleasure,” Dylan snorted. “This is much more serious. Women.”
“Ah…” Rhirid relaxed. “One woman in particular?”
Dylan nodded glumly. “She’s up to something, Rhirid. She’s been too nice to me these past few days. Do you know, she hasn’t complained about Lady Teleri since the day before yesterday and last night she offered to rub my back when I mentioned it felt a little sore.” He shivered. “I tell you, Rhirid, it’s like when the birds stop chattering and everything is quiet in the forest. You look up and sure enough, there’s a storm waiting to break.”
Rhirid stepped away from the trench and adjusted his clothing. He grinned and slapped the other man’s shoulder. “Or perhaps she’s finally realized what a wonderful husband you are, Dylan.”
“It isn’t a joking matter, Rhirid!” Dylan retorted. He closed his eyes as he settled into position. “She’s up to something; I know it. It’s to do with that Olwen. They’re very cozy.”
“Olwen?” Rhirid asked sharply. “What about her?”
Dylan sighed as he finished relieving himself. He opened his eyes. “I don’t know precisely. Goewyn said she’s worrying about her future. Wants to know what’s going to happen to her. I didn’t like to say anything, Rhirid; I don’t want Goewyn to know too much of my business. I need every advantage over her I can get, otherwise she’d be giving me endless instructions—making all my decisions—”
“I’m quite aware of your wife’s efficient qualities, Dylan,” Rhirid interrupted impatiently. “What else did she say about Olwen?”
Dylan gave him a curious look. “That was all. She wanted me to say something to the girl to ease her mind but I claimed I had no information to give her.”
“Perhaps I should talk to her…” Rhirid frowned. “Have Goewyn bring her to me just before the evening meal.” He turned to leave.
“Rhirid!” Dylan hurried after him. “Do you think that’s a good idea? I mean, Goewyn has a knack of finding out what she wants to know even if I won’t tell her. I’m sure she’s up to something and—”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Dylan! Of course it’s only natural that Olwen’s been wondering what’s going on!” An amused expression suddenly crossed his face. “And even if Goewyn has some ulterior motive, what does it matter? She’s hardly going to rush off to the Normans and tell them, is she?” The thought made him laugh out loud, and he was still laughing as he left Dylan, who stared after him with the sinking feeling that Goewyn had been right, after all.
When he saw her hesitate in his doorway, he caught his breath. The sun was low in the west and the chief’s house had no windows, only a circle in the high roof over the fire pit, so the faint illumination in the main room beyond his quarters came from the torches around the perimeter of the hearth. Olwen stood framed by the soft yellow light; he couldn‘t see her face but she looked utterly beautiful. The light glowed around her. She shimmered and sparkled. If she hadn’t spoken, he would have stared at her forever.
“Lord?”
He heard his voice greet her and invite her in but all the while his mind was racing, awash with a strong desire; he wanted to touch her, to kiss her, and wondered how that could be arranged; he wondered how soft her lips were, lips which looked so soft and red…he longed to put a hand on the back of her head and feel the richness of her long, dark hair…
He heard his voice speak glibly of Dylan and Goewyn and his understanding that she had expressed concern about her future but he wasn’t really paying attention to his words. How could he when all he saw was her still, graceful figure standing quietly before him, her face and manner serious? When all he felt was the aura of self-reliance that surrounded her and the wall of distrust she’d put up between them?
He felt his mouth smile in an effort to thaw her out; he heard himself ask her teasingly if being at Llanlleyn were such a hardship, but it was the wrong thing to say; he knew it immediately by the way her mouth creased tightly shut and her glance dropped mutinously from his face to the floor, and he knew he ought to shake himself out of his gaping stupor but he couldn’t, he couldn’t…He was mesmerized by her presence…
He reassured her that no harm was intended to her or her sons, that everyone at Llanlleyn held her in great esteem but these words did not impress her. She looked impatient and, having run out of platitudes which weren’t succeeding anyway, he begged her to speak her mind. For the first time, he saw a flicker of interest in her eyes; intelligent, dark eyes which fixed on his with steady purpose. She spoke.
He answered, heedless of his words. All he could think was how strong she appeared to be. He had never met a woman so strong in mind, unless he counted Dylan’s wife but Goewyn had always seemed to him to be something other than male or female, some different being entirely…But Olwen was a woman and she was strong. He’d never once heard that she’d complained about Llanlleyn, unlike his other hostage, and she’d done much to incorporate herself into everyday life within the confines of its walls, unlike his other hostage. She watched him without fear, with no expression more favorable than neutral, while he sputtered on and on, having no idea if what he said pleased her or not.
When finally he had stopped, she thanked him gravely and asked if she might leave, politely apologetic for holding up his supper. She walked past him and it was only with great effort that he refrained from catching her waist and swinging her back towards himself. For an all-too-brief moment, she was so close! He closed his eyes, retaining the last image he’d had of her face…
“Lord?”
His eyes opened eagerly. She had paused in the doorway, in a posture exactly like that she’d assumed just before entering his room, with the torchlight making her hair glow.
“Would I be allowed to visit Lady Teleri?” she asked, and when he immediately assented—of course; she must go anywhere she chose; she could see whomever she pleased—she merely nodded, but as she turned away to leave, the light hit her face and he could see that she was smiling.
He stood rooted to the ground, stunned by the obvious pleasure such a small gift had given her, with a determination welling up in him that was greater than even his desire for war against the Normans: if there were one purpose in his life, it was to make her fall in love with him.
She was still smiling when she met Goewyn in the women’s house. Without a word, she took little Henry from the other woman, sat down next t
o her and began to nurse him, humming underbreath. After a moment, her eyes crept up to meet Goewyn’s puzzled expression, and she burst out laughing.
“Olwen! What happened? Why are you laughing?”
“You were right, you know,” she said. “About Rhirid wanting to make a good impression. It’s gratifying to know there’s someone more interested in me than in a wall.”
“Olwen, that doesn’t make any sense—”
But Olwen had no desire to explain. Her demeanor sobered. “You were right about other things, as well,” she said in a low voice. Most of the women had left for the feast house and the evening meal but there were always several stragglers and these had looked over when they’d heard her laughter. And there was Teleri, hidden behind her screens only a dozen paces or so away…“About Rhirid and Rhuddlan. He means to use Lady Teleri as bait to entice Lord William into a trap. He means to kill Lord William.”
Goewyn paled. “Where? Where is he planning to do this?”
“Not here. I’m not sure, but he did say it wouldn’t happen at Llanlleyn.”
“Oh, what does it matter where—the king’s wrath will fall on Rhirid anyway, and so on Llanlleyn!” Goewyn jumped up in agitation and began pacing. “We must do something! I will not be put out of my home twice! What else did he say?”
“Nothing more about Rhuddlan.” Olwen bent her face to Henry’s warm head to hide the smile which had begun to creep across it at the remembrance of Rhirid’s other words. “Only about me. He told me not to worry, he won’t allow any harm to come to me.” She glanced up at the other woman. “Do you remember you told me that my abduction and Lady Teleri’s were part of a bargain Rhirid struck with the earl of Chester? Well, Rhirid was supposed to send me to the earl…”
“What?” Goewyn sat down with an astonished thud. “Why?”
Olwen shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t ask. I didn’t have much of a chance to speak, as Rhirid rambled on and on.” But she suspected the answer had quite a bit to do with Bronwen.
“You said, supposed …”
“He told me he won’t do it.” She wondered if he would remember even half of what he told her. He had spoken so earnestly and rampantly, almost as if he’d been afraid she would find him tiresome and turn around and leave him, that it had been impossible to feel anything but flattered. She could think of nothing she had done to inspire such adulation, but she was ashamed to admit she had enjoyed it…She shook herself. “Goewyn, you’re right. We have to do something. Richard told me a great enmity exists between the earl of Chester and Lord William. If the earl is deeply involved with Rhirid, then it’s not just a petty feud between Llanlleyn and Rhuddlan anymore—all of Gwynedd may be concerned.”
Goewyn nodded. “We must ruin Rhirid’s plan. But how?”
“By getting rid of the key element in it.”
“Lady Teleri?” Goewyn cast a skeptical look in the direction of Teleri’s screens. She whispered, “But according to Dylan she wanted to get out of Rhuddlan so badly, she begged Rhirid to burn it down. And she hates her husband; why would she want to help him avoid war with Rhirid?”
“Mostly, I think, for her uncle’s sake. We must make her see that if the king comes to Gwynedd to settle this dispute, it might mean the prince will be forced from the throne because he can’t control his people. Teleri wouldn’t want that to happen.” She lowered a sleepy Henry onto her lap and fixed her clothing. “She’s unhappy here; Llanlleyn doesn’t meet her expectations. I think she’ll go back. The only question is how will we get her there?”