Chapter 47
June, 1177
Rhuddlan Castle, Gwynedd
Richard Delamere shook out the cloak he’d used for a blanket and secured it to the back of his saddle. There was half a bucket of water left from last afternoon and he splashed some over his face and dumped the rest onto the smoldering coals of his fire. He stared for a moment at the bucket in his hand; it had looked eerie when he’d first seen it, standing upright on the ground near the charred remains of his barn. Near the burned remains of the house. Near the scorched earth that had been his fields. It had looked strange, perfectly untouched and positioned as if someone had just set it down, in the midst of the blackened ruins of his manor.
He was alone. The first time he’d seen this horror, the day he’d gone to fetch Olwen and the boys back to Rhuddlan only to find Rhirid had gotten to them first, one of the laborers and two of Olwen’s serving women had been there to tell him what had happened. Now he and his horse were the only living creatures in the area and the bucket the only whole and undamaged object within sight.
In the solemn afternoon peace and the waning light of the evening which followed, the anger he’d experienced upon arrival had been replaced with deepening melancholy. There was so much to do, but was there anyone to do it for? The site looked unfamiliar, not because of the ruins but because Olwen wasn’t there. For almost three months, his hatred of Rhirid had been a violent one; now it was desperate. The Welshman had destroyed his land and seized his family; he had everything and Delamere had been left with nothing. It was all the more obvious as he surveyed his former home…
But the clean, clear light of the morning had brought hope with it. Delamere had poked a little more among the devastation and decided he could rebuild. Would rebuild. After all, what had been standing on that piece of land before his arrival? Just some cottar’s dwelling which he’d had to tear down anyway in order to raise his manor house. As he saddled his horse, he devised a timetable for the work to be done; he figured how many men he’d need to ask Longsword to lend him. As he stowed his cloak, he considered larger dimensions, a separate room for the children, a solar for Olwen…As he rode back to Rhuddlan, he glanced back once to fix the exact position of the wall in his head…
By the time he reached the fortress, he was in a fine mood. His mind was full of ways to make the manor a place of which Olwen would be proud to be mistress. Warmed by the sun and buoyed by his plans, he started to believe he would win her again. After all, his recommendations were numerous. Rhirid was an insignificant chief while he was the right-hand man to Prince Dafydd’s nephew-in-law. His property probably rivalled Rhirid’s entire holding in size, yet supported far fewer people which made him the wealthier man. And he was a Norman; his king was, for all intents and purposes, the overlord of Wales, despite Welsh opinion. To Delamere’s way of thinking, Olwen would have to be a fool not to admit to the advantages of being his wife.
He had decided he would marry her.
The gate was open; he called up a greeting and lifted a hand in salute as he trotted through. His stomach rumbled and he hoped he wasn’t too late for the midday meal. Sweat dribbled down the side of his head—
He saw her immediately and pulled up on the reins. She was standing in the very center of the ward with several Welshmen around her. Teleri was at her side. Beyond them were Longsword, fitz Maurice and perhaps a dozen others; he wasn’t certain, he didn’t count them. He was vaguely surprised that he noticed anyone else at all.
Cynan, the stablemaster’s son, raced up with the energetic enthusiasm of a ten-year-old to take his horse and he tossed him the reins and dismounted without even looking at him. He didn’t dare take his eyes from Olwen in case she disappeared as unexpectedly as she had appeared. He walked towards her, pulling off his gloves and tucking them into his sword belt, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair and absently wishing he had shaved, all the while watching her. And she watched him as well.
When there was less than two arms’ length between them, he stopped. He couldn’t read her expression and that made him uneasy. They’d always known what each other was thinking just from his or her face; it had practically been their only form of communication in the first months of their relationship.
Perhaps her face seemed shuttered because one of her eyes was black and blue. It had merely been swollen by the time she’d revived and been swept off by Rhirid and his men and he was ashamed to see how horrible it had become…because of him.
“Does it hurt much?” he asked abruptly, in a soft voice.
She frowned as if puzzled, winced and realized what he meant. “Only when I do that,” she said. “I can’t be too angry, at least for a few more days.” The absurdity of her statement made her smile.
He smiled as well. “I’m sorry, Olwen—”
Her cheerfulness vanished instantly. “Please, Richard; I’m not here for apologies or regrets.” There was a slight tremble in her voice although her gaze was steady. “I’m here for William.”
“William…”
“Yes.” She added, “You might have told me he was here when we were at Hawarden.”
He thought her tone accusing and was offended. “I might have? What about Rhirid ap Maelgwn? After all, he was the one who brought William to me.”
“I’ve already spoken with Lord Rhirid, Richard. Can we please leave him out of this?”
“I wanted to leave him out of it back at Hawarden but you refused to speak with me then and he put his nose where it didn’t belong!” he snapped. He looked at the men around them. “Where is he, anyway? Where’s his big bodyguard?”
“He isn’t here,” she said. “I thought it best to see you alone—”
“Why is that? Because now I’ve got something you want? You had no time for me at Hawarden because he made you believe both our sons were waiting for you at Llanlleyn. Am I not correct? But now that you know the truth, you’re more agreeable. I don’t think you’re being fair, Olwen!”
“I’m sorry if you think that, Richard. I can’t help what happened between you and Lord Rhirid; that’s your business,” she said calmly. “I just want my son. Surely you can understand he’s too young to be without his mother.”
“And never to see his father again?”
She didn’t answer. She looked away.
“Olwen?”
“Sir Richard, if I may?” Teleri stepped closer to them. “Olwen didn’t get here much before you,” she said quietly. “I’m sure you’re both hot and uncomfortable and hungry from your journeys. Why don’t we all go inside, where it’s cooler, have something to eat and then you two can speak privately and not in the open where everyone can hear you.”
“Yes. Thank you, Lady Teleri,” Olwen said and after a moment, Delamere inclined his head. As the two women moved off towards the keep, he stared at Olwen’s retreating figure with sinking spirits.
“What was that all about? What were you saying to each other?”
He glanced at Longsword. “She wants to take little William back to Llanlleyn,” he told him.
“Oh…I had thought perhaps she…Well, when I didn’t see Rhirid, I thought she might be coming back here to stay with you…”
“No, Will. It’s all exactly as I predicted,” he said in a tight voice.
“Oh…”
Delamere looked back again at the keep. The women were almost to the steps when a small figure darted out from the kitchens on the lower level. It was his son. He watched in dismay as the child ran to Olwen with obvious joy and as she knelt down to meet him, scoop him up in her embrace and whirl him around.
“Did you truly mean it when you told Sir Richard you wanted to remain at Llanlleyn?”
“Yes, Lady Teleri…”
“You don’t sound too certain,” Teleri said sharply.
Olwen raised the towel to her face and blotted it dry, taking care around her bruised eye. “I’m not certain,” she said in a low voice. “I think it’s the right decision—I’ve been happy at Llanlleyn; Lord Rhiri
d has been kind and I know I’m welcome—but I also feel as if I’m betraying Richard.”
“You’d only feel that way if you still loved him…”
“But that doesn’t matter, Lady Teleri. I have to think of my children. Is it fair they grow up without a father? When William was first born, Richard came to stay with us quite often. But after Henry was born, he came less and less. I know he was needed here because Lord William was injured but for months on end?” She looked down. “I began to imagine there was another reason he didn’t come.”
“You imagined wrong, Olwen. I never heard even the hint of a rumor that he was with someone else. He loves you.”
Olwen was silent for a moment. Then she looked at Teleri. “I don’t know if I love him still. Don’t you remember when we were at Llanlleyn? I dreaded waking up every day to hear the story of yet another holding burned and ransacked, its people perhaps murdered, by Lord William’s men. By Richard, Lady Teleri! I hated him then.”
“Our people…their people…” Teleri shrugged. “What does it matter? We’re all people and there are as many evil Welsh as Norman. You must remember, it was Lord Rhirid who brought all this on his head by shooting Lord William. Speaking of heads, did he show you his cousin’s blackened one which adorns the gate to Llanlleyn?”
“Please, Lady Teleri, say no more!” Olwen begged. “I’ve already made up my mind. I never grew used to that manor. Llanlleyn is more like the Perfeddwlad—there are women to speak with and men to teach my sons.” Her face was throbbing too much for her to be more than mildly curious about the amount of interest Teleri was taking in her relationship with Richard.
Teleri shrugged. “Very well. Anyway, you don’t leave until the morning; you have the rest of the day and all night to reconsider.”
“I won’t, Lady Teleri,” she whispered.
The other woman gestured towards the bed. “Rest as long as you like; those meals below are interminable. One man tells a story and all the others clamor to top it. I call it hell with refreshment.”
Olwen smiled politely but even as Teleri left the chamber, her thoughts turned to Richard and the smile faded. Was she making a mistake? Was she doing him a misservice? She was reminded of the day before, when she waited in the women’s house while her escort to Rhuddlan was being readied and in the sudden silence, he had crept into her mind. A small movement had caught her attention and she’d looked up; there in the doorway, the sun streaming behind him and obscuring his identity, a man had paused to adjust his eyes to the dim interior. It was Lord Rhirid, of course, come to find her, but for one instant, one heart-stopping, confused, joyous instant, she had thought it was Richard.
If Delamere had not been feeling as if his entire life had just been turned on its head, he might have seen a wry humor in the situation in the hall that evening. Always in the past, it was Longsword who would sit in silence, morosely contemplating a cup of wine, while Delamere made the attempt to cajole him out of his misery; now it was the other way around. And now he understood how maddening it was to endure the friendly but strained conversation when all he really wanted to do was disappear into some dark recess.
His face was bruised and his body battered but he felt little pain; the fact of Olwen leaving him was a sufficient analgesic. He hadn’t been surprised by her decision because he’d spent the last few months believing she was gone for good, anyway, but there was still the shock of hearing the words spoken. And he remembered Rhirid, with that smug expression on his face…
“…And I said, you’re not taking the boy without Richard’s permission!” Longsword was telling him what had happened before he’d ridden in to Rhuddlan. “She looked a little stunned. I thought she might get hysterical but she didn’t. I was actually glad Teleri was with me.”
“Thank you, Will,” he said mechanically.
“She’ll come back, Richard,” Longsword said, his voice slightly anxious. “As long as you keep William…”
“Yes,” he said. He stared at the cup in his hand and pushed it away slowly. Getting drunk didn’t appeal to him at the moment; somehow, to forget it all tonight but to wake up with a raging hangover and stark reality would be worse than getting it all over with as soon as possible.
He just hoped he’d be able to get over it.
A woman hovered behind him and he put his hand up to signal that he wanted no more wine but to his surprise, she leaned forward and whispered into his ear. He nodded in response. Longsword looked at him questioningly. “Excuse me, Will,” he said, rising from his seat.
It was clear from Longsword’s face that he thought the woman had propositioned Delamere—a face at first shocked, then impressed and finally encouraging.
Delamere followed the woman through the maze of tables, uncomfortably aware that the noise in the hall had been reduced to the low buzz of gossip and that everyone was watching him. They entered the stairwell behind the pantries and climbed the winding steps. His heart beat quicker and not merely from the exertion; he was nervous. He couldn’t remember the last time he was nervous to meet a woman.
They stopped at Teleri’s chambers. His guide pulled the latch on the closed door and pushed it open, standing back so that he would enter before her.
“Sir Richard, come in!” Teleri, seated on a chair in the middle of the floor, invited him. She gave him a critical stare. “You look much better than you did earlier. How do you feel?”
“Better, Lady Teleri,” he lied.
“I thought you might want to see Olwen here. She’s resting in my bedchamber; she didn’t want to eat, she said. She’s very upset, Sir Richard and not just because of William. She really loves you.”
Delamere was surprised. Ordinarily, he would have never have discussed such private business with Teleri, but now he was greedy for the least information…the slenderest twig of hope.
“I know I’m intruding,” she continued, “but I thought you should know what she told me before you see her.”
“She said that?”
“Well, I put it to her and she didn’t deny it, Sir Richard.” She stood up “You’ll be alone. My women and I will go to the hall. We won’t return until you come down.”
“Thank you. May I ask you a question, Lady Teleri?” he said as she started to move past him. “Why are doing this for me?”
“I’m repaying a favor you did me, Sir Richard.”
He frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“That stormy day I told you about Gwalaes. Do you remember? I’m not stupid and I knew of the earl of Chester’s interest in her, so I merely took everything to its logical conclusion…and that meant figuring out who Bronwen was. And then I told the earl that night at supper. I was angry with Lord William. Getting a child on Gladys was bad enough but then to turn to yet another woman? I knew I’d become the laughingstock of Rhuddlan—probably all of Gwynedd, for that matter—if my husband kept this up.”
“At the time, you said you were afraid Lord William’s men would desert him and he’d be forced to return to England,” Delamere said slowly. “And you didn’t want to leave Wales…”
Teleri shrugged. “That, too. But anyway, despite the pain it caused Lord William when Gwalaes left, you never told him that it was I who discovered everything.”
“I saw no reason to, Lady Teleri; I never approved of his interest in that woman and I was glad when Chester claimed her.” He hesitated. “How is it between you and Lord William? He has a tendency to hold a grudge and he was still angry when I left…”
She gave him a wry smile. “It’s more than a grudge he holds but our marriage yet lives.” She put a hand on his arm and squeezed. “Good luck, Sir Richard.”
He turned toward the door to the bedchamber and hesitated. For a moment he contemplated it, unable to understand his sudden ambivalence. Perhaps, he thought, he’d simply spent too much time imagining his life without Olwen and because of it, in his mind, the decision was final. To go through that door meant confrontation and accusati
on and he’d already rehearsed every argument in his head and come to every conclusion.
He took a step backwards.
Yet…perhaps there was still a chance. There wouldn’t be a better time or place see her again, because now she was alone, without Rhirid standing at her shoulder, without the children clinging to her skirts, without even the servants overhearing the whispers they might exchange in the dark. There would be only the two of them.
And Teleri’s last words echoed in his mind…
He went quickly forward before he could change his mind, tapped firmly on the door and, after a pause, went through.
He’d never been in Teleri’s bedchamber before; it was a large room and his eyes were not immediately drawn to the bed up against the farthest wall. The unshuttered windows showed a waning daylight but combined with the flame of a single lamp perched on the table near the door, there was enough illumination for him to see the array of neatly ordered furnishings and then the figure lying in the bed. He moved closer and heard Olwen stir.
“Who is it?” she called out softly, in Welsh.
He walked to the foot of the bed. “It’s Richard.”
“Richard!”
He couldn’t tell whether her short exclamation was pleased or angry. He asked cautiously, “Do you mind I’m here? If you wish, I’ll leave…”
“I don’t mind,” she answered.
He moved up to the head of the bed and sat down on the stool alongside it. Once again, he couldn’t take his eyes from her but this time it wasn’t because he feared she’d disappear. This time it was because he hadn’t been so physically close to her in months, alone, and she looked so wonderfully familiar that he wanted only to bend his head to hers and kiss her.
She pushed herself up into a sitting position and met his hungry stare with barely disguised trepidation. It chilled his ardor and he sat back. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You act as if you’re frightened of me.”
“Not of you, perhaps, but of what you might say…”
“What do you mean?”
She hesitated. “Your answer about William…”
He shook his head slowly. “To my mind, this isn’t about William. It’s about us, Olwen. You and I.”
She looked away. “It’s about William, Richard. That’s all. Everything else has been decided.”
“By whom? By you? Or by Rhirid?”
“Please, Richard! Why do you keep harping on Rhirid?”
His voice reflected his frustration. “Because he’s the one who’s turned you away from me, Olwen! And after what he did to our home and to you and the boys, I don’t understand the regard you have for him!”
She stared at him. “I have no regard for Lord Rhirid, at least not in the way you mean it,” she said quietly. “He’s been kind to us; he’s sorry for what he did. But he has nothing to do with you and me.”
“Then why are you going back to Llanlleyn?” he asked. His heart pounded painfully but he forced himself to ask the questions. “Why not send for Henry and stay here? With me?”
Her eyes were large and sympathetic. “And return to what? Will you build a new manor? I’m sorry, Richard. If anyone’s to blame, it isn’t Lord Rhirid. I suppose it’s me. I just couldn’t stand to be at that manor on my own.”
He was bewildered. “But you have servants…the children…”
“I wanted you.”
“I came—”
“And then you left.”
For a moment, he didn’t speak. They looked at each other, unblinking. Then he said quietly, “I don’t know what to tell you, Olwen. That’s the way my life is. I serve Lord William.”
Suddenly he could read her expression once again and the hurt he saw there made him want to wince. He had to look away.
“I’m leaving in the morning, Richard.” Her voice was flat, unemotional. “I want to know if you’ll allow me to take my son with me.”
Only a heartbeat before, he’d thought how everything could be put right with a mere kiss. Now, it was all over. What had happened in such a brief time?
He put his hands on his knees and pushed himself up off the stool. He looked down on her. “Yes. If you’re certain about this, I won’t object.”
A fortnight later, the summer heat eased considerably and likewise most of the tension that had gripped Rhuddlan. Longsword, again, was resigned to his losses and no longer surly and short-tempered. Part of the reason had to do with Teleri; she was doggedly keeping her end of her bargain and had given him no cause for complaint. Everything was peaceful…
Too peaceful, perhaps. He felt tremendously let-down. It seemed to him that after all the activity of the past year, he was back where he’d started, before Rhirid, before his baby, before Gwalaes…nothing to look forward to…
“Do you know the one thing I regret about my settlement with Chester?” he asked Delamere as they stood together on the edge of the practice field and watched a dozen men trade jabs. “The three year peace.”
Delamere was surprised. “Why? You’d go against him again? On what pretext?”
Longsword shrugged. “Something might come up.” He saw an indulgent smile on his friend’s profile and added in frustration, “Everything is the same, Richard! A year ago we were probably standing in this very spot. The fighting with Rhirid, the fighting with Chester—it changed nothing.”
At first Delamere didn’t respond, staring out at the men vying against each other, and too late Longsword realized that his friend would have preferred to be back where he was a year ago, because then he’d have Olwen and his sons again. But then he said, “Lady Teleri’s different. More kindly disposed towards you, for some reason. I’ve even heard rumors that she shares the same bed with you on occasion.”
Longsword flushed and scraped at the ground with his boot. “She’s decided she wants to be married to me, after all,” he muttered. He looked up. “But I’m not convinced of her sincerity, Richard! She’s yet to prove it to me!”
“I would imagine a clean hall, servants who move quickly to do your bidding and her presence at your table every evening are solid indications of her sincerity,” Delamere replied. “She’s trying.”
“So?” Longsword demanded. “Has she complained that I’m not trying?”
“Not at all, Will! I’m just telling you what I’ve observed.”
Longsword grunted noncomittally. He knew that he hadn’t been trying and was a little ashamed as a result. He’d accepted whatever she’d offered, from banal conversation to sex, but he had yet to reciprocate and wondered if he ever would because it would feel as if he were betraying Gwalaes. “Let’s go away,” he said abruptly.
Delamere’s head swiveled towards him. “What?”
“Let’s go away. Out of Rhuddlan.”
“What’s brought this on?”
“Just the two of us, Richard! God knows we could both do without this place for a while…”
Delamere looked pensive. Longsword watched him intently. “Where do you want to go?” he asked at length.
“Anywhere!” Longsword said eagerly. “Wherever the king is holding court.”
“We don’t know where—”
“That’s the beauty of the thing, Richard! We’ll have to find him and who knows how long that might take. He might be at Westminster…in London…in Falaise…Anjou…”
Delamere grinned. “You’d have to cross the sea, Will.”
“For once in my life, I welcome it, Richard,” he said. “Come on, what do you say? Fitz Maurice and Teleri can look after Rhuddlan quite capably…We can leave tomorrow…”
Delamere shifted his gaze to the practice field but Longsword knew he wasn’t looking at anyone there. If he saw anything, it was the image of Olwen riding away with their son…Finally, he nodded. “All right,” he said slowly. “Let’s go.”