The Brothers of Gwynedd

  I confess there was something in this, as we found thereafter, not to our surprise. Yet to come back to one's allegiance cautiously, after due approaches and guarantees given, is one thing, and to tear oneself out of the ranks in the field and make that exchange without guarantees of any kind is quite another. And Rhys was not such a fool as to suppose that he would be welcomed with open arms. I expected the prince to ask him at once to speak as to his own motives and in his own defence, but he thought it better to let those who carried grievances and had doubts speak them out now and get relief, before he brought the matter to the issue.

  So he called on one and another, and brought them gradually to the point of declaring whether Rhys should be fully accepted into the confederacy or not, though not in such positive terms that they could not veer later if they so wished. And some said one way, and some the other, Meredith ap Rhys Gryg the loudest in opposition. It was not all a matter of the castles he would be required to restore, but also of the long enmity between them, and doubtless some genuine mistrust.

  "All we have risked our lives and fortunes," he said, "to bring Wales into this ascendant, while he has pledged and maintained his allegiance to England all these years. And are we now to take him into favour, and restore him all that was his? At a gesture, at the first word of repentance, without one act to give it substance? I say no! We cannot throw him back to the English, but we need not therefore embrace him as a brother. What has he done to deserve it?"

  Llewelyn looked then at Rhys, who had sat with a face of ice to listen to this, and asked him equably:

  "What have you to say in answer?"

  Rhys opened his lips as though they were indeed stiff and cold, and said: "That what my uncle says is just. I pledged fealty to King Henry eleven years ago, when I saw no security and no hope anywhere else. If that was a craven act, then we were many craven souls in those days. That I have maintained what I undertook ever since, for that I make no apology. I was taught to abide by my word, and so I have done, until loyalty seemed to me worse than treachery. Now I am doubly a traitor, and not proud of it, and all I want is to change my coat no more. Whether you accept or reject me, I am back among my own. Here I will die."

  Llewelyn looked quickly from him to Meredith ap Owen, that grave, quiet man, and again back to Rhys. "And in the future," he said mildly, "I doubt not you will offer us acts substantial enough, to pay your indemnity?"

  "If you accept me," said Rhys Fychan, "the event will prove all. All I have to offer is the man I am, and my intent. Take it, or leave it."

  I looked at David then, for this, however effortful, weary and sad, was talking after his own fashion. And I saw that he was moved and hopeful, though he hesitated still.

  There passed another such understanding glance between the prince and Meredith ap Owen, and Meredith said, in his great, gentle voice, that was deep as an organ: "I think I may point to one act already done, which has greatly aided our cause. Rhys has not claimed it, but I make the claim for him, if he is too proud to vaunt his own skills. Ask him, my lord, if he did not make the plan for this great victory we have claimed as ours. Who brought the English to Dynevor in such high hopes, and ensured we should have due warning of their massing at Carmarthen? Who saw them encamped here in the valley at our mercy, and then forsook them and sent them haring back to their castle under our hail of arrows? Ask him, my lord, if we do not owe to him the whole triumph of Cymerau, which we never let him share!"

  There was a sharp and wondering silence round the hall at this, while men looked at one another questioning and marvelling, before all eyes turned back to Rhys. And Llewelyn looked at him also, with a veiled smile, and said softly:

  "Well? Answer the question! Was this indeed how, and why, you came back to us?"

  What colour was left in Rhys's face drained out of it, and left him white as wax. I saw the cold sweat start on his forehead and lip, and for a long moment he struggled with his tongue and his silence, aware that on what he answered depended his whole fate, and feeling in his blood and bones what those about the table wanted from him. For most men see but a little way before their noses. He drew breath very slowly, but his voice was loud and firm as he said: "No!"

  "You have more than that to say," said Llewelyn when the stone-hard silence grew long. "Say on!"

  "I did not plan this slaughter," said Rhys, the blood flowing back hot and desperate into his face now that he had cast his die. "Nor would I, I pray, so use any company that had received me into itself. I asked the English to help me win back what was mine, since I had lost it for their sake. If you think I would so betray any man who put trust in me, then kill me, and be done! Nor did I think Dynevor would escape and triumph, or I would have stood by my own error to the end. No, I believed you were lost, and then I knew you for mine, and I despaired, and willed to be lost with you. My heart sickened, and I could not bear it longer that I was Welsh and traitor. I called up my knights, and we came to die with you. And that is truth, as God sees me! As for your victory, it was yours, none of mine, to my grief. And since I did not wilfully betray my companions," he said, looking full at Llewelyn, "as you would have had me do, and since I have given you the wrong but the true answer, do with me whatever you see fit. I have finished!"

  He was so blind by the end of this that he could not see that Llewelyn was smiling, that David was glowing like a rose. But there was no silence at all after Rhys made an end, for Llewelyn rose from his place and went round the circle to where Rhys sat, took him by the hands, raised him to his feet, and kissed his cheek. He had to stoop a little, he was the taller.

  "You have given me both the true and the right answer," he said heartily. "God forbid I should take into my love any man who would sell his friends, however mistakenly cherished, into so fatal a trap. I would you had come to us earlier and more happily, but with all my heart I welcome you, and call you my brother."

  Then David uttered a muted shout of surrender and acclaim, and bounded up from his place to embrace his sister's husband in his turn, and give him the kiss of kinship. And after him, though more soberly still with right goodwill, Meredith ap Owen, for he, too, was of the royal blood of Deheubarth, his father Owen being a first cousin of Rhys's father.

  Rhys Fychan himself, thus passed from hand to hand in welcome where he had looked only for rejection and ignominy at the worst, and at the best a long and hard probation, was so stunned and at such a loss that I think he hardly knew what was happening to him, or what the gathering murmur of approbation meant. For though some, no doubt, had reservations, and a few, had they not known themselves so greatly outnumbered, would have refused him countenance, yet when Llewelyn asked if any man had matter to urge against, no voice was raised.

  "Never hold it against us," said Llewelyn then, smiling, "that we tempted you so grossly, since the issue has shown you are not to be tempted. And now sit down with us in full council, and no more glancing behind, for there are matters arising out of this return which should be settled among us at once."

  But before he would do so, Rhys went on his knees before the prince, and lifted his joined hands, offering homage and fealty after the English fashion, as he had formerly pledged them to King Henry, in token of the severance of all those English ties which had bound him so many years. Publicly and voluntarily he did this, for Llewelyn would not then have asked of him any such gesture. And he did it with a burning face but a bright and steady eye. "And this," he said, rising, "shall be my last allegiance, and this I will never take back."

  Then all present accepted his willing act with acclaim, though it may well be that Meredith ap Rhys Gryg found his assent sour-tasting in his mouth, for he stood to lose by his nephew's gain. And of this Llewelyn needed no reminder.

  "Two matters chiefly remain to be dealt with," he said, resuming his place and his authority, "now that the main is settled. For this castle of Dynevor, and Carreg Cennen also, were from his father's death the inheritance of the Lord Rhys, and must return to him now. And I ha
ve ever in mind the great services of the Lord Meredith ap Rhys Gryg, which must not be slighted. Yet I think there was a time when both lived here, and for both there was room in the two cantrefs, and so there should be again." Then he went on to show that he knew, by reciting the list of them, how the properties in Ystrad Tywi had been distributed between those two in the days before Rhys expelled his uncle and drove him to take sanctuary in Gwynedd, thus reminding both that if one had grievances from the past, so had the other, and silence and reconciliation might be best.

  "It is my hope and counsel," he said then, "that you should agree to return to that division, remembering this, that even if you, Meredith, are losing something by Rhys's return, yet you have both not only a common enemy close at hand, but also, together, the means of extending your common estate at the enemy's expense, not at each other's. To cling to a castle and thereby lose an ally with whose help three castles more might be won, is very poor policy. Together you are far stronger and can do far more than the two of you apart could master. And be far more than double the value to the cause of Wales."

  Rhys, who was still dazed and open to emotion with the joy and relief of his reception, offered his hand warmly to his uncle, and promised that for his part he forsook all enmity against him, and begged forgiveness and forgetfulness of his own revenges mercilessly taken when the advantage was with him. And Meredith perforce accepted his hand, though with less enthusiasm, and conceded that the past was past.

  "That being so," said Llewelyn, "we have here a greater and more effective army by the addition of Rhys and his knights, and an enemy greatly weakened, and fortune waiting only for us to move. You," he said to the two Merediths, "have made good use of Cymerau by storming the castles it left empty of men, and it is for you to hold and garrison Laugharne and Llanstephan and Narberth as you see fit. But there's more to be won yet. If they drew on those households, so they will have done on others further afield. What's to prevent us from driving west into Dyfed, and shocking de Valence and Bohun and FitzMartin?"

  There was no man there but agreed to that gladly, and as long as he could hold them together with the prospect of action and booty he had them in the hollow of his hand.

  "My Lord," said Rhys Fychan, "with your leave, we can add to our numbers yet, if two or three days can be spared. There were foot soldiers of mine left to fend for themselves when I was let in here. God he knows they could not be blamed for what I did, but considering what followed, I doubt there were many left by the time they reached Cymerau. They know this country, and by then it was a headlong flight, they could as well slip away into the hills, every man for himself. Give me two days, and I'll get word out to enough of them to reach the rest, and bid them home. If I call, they will come."

  "Well thought of!" said Llewelyn. "Do so, while we make ready. And one more thing, not the least. Where is my sister? Were you forced to leave her in English care, in Brecon or Carmarthen? It may not be so simple now to get her safely out, but it shall be done."

  "By God's grace," said Rhys thankfully, "she is not in any of their castles. Two weeks before we massed at Carmarthen I took her away to a hermitage of women near Hywel, with her maids and the two boys. For she was drawing near her time, and had some women's troubles that frightened her a little, and was not willing to risk bearing her child there in Brecon without me. Thank God the boys would not stay behind, as then I would gladly have had them do. There is a holy woman among the anchoresses at Hywel who is very expert in childbirth, my lady has visited her before, and wanted to be in her care. We can reach them without hindrance, and bring them safe home."

  "Let be until she is delivered," said Llewelyn, "if she puts such trust in this holy woman. If need be, we can set a guard about the place, but I think awe of the anchoresses might serve even better to keep her secure until her waiting's over. But then," he said, "you have been a long time without news of her, and she of you, that's an ill thing at such a time. Send to her and set her mind at rest, and I hope your own, also."

  And thus it was done. And Rhys Fychan with great joy and fervour went about resuming the control of his own castle, and making lordly provision for his guests.

  We reckoned then that we had but three weeks, or four, to spend here in the south, before we must turn homewards to meet King Henry's threatened muster. So after two days we sallied forth again from Dynevor, my lord with his brother, Rhys Fychan and the two Merediths, all at one and in high heart. Rhys's messengers had shaken out the word of restoration and the Welsh alliance through the forests and hills and along the vale of Towy, bidding all who welcomed it pass it on still further, and we had the first-fruits of that sowing already in our ranks when we rode, good lancers and bowmen who had been in hiding since Cymerau, until they should discover which way the wind blew.

  We drove west from Cantref Mawr, passing to the north of Carmarthen, and swept into Dyfed, in this summer season a most lovely country, where the clouds ran like new lambs over clean green hills. We ravaged and looted the borders of Cemais, doing great despite to the lands of the lord William de Valence, who was King Henry's half-brother, being one of the sons of the king's mother by her second marriage to the Count of La Marche. This William was lord of Pembroke in right of his wife, and greatly hated in the whole of Dyfed, even by many English barons and marcher lords, so that few tears were shed over what we did to his bams and stock and manors. But our time being limited, we seized a foothold in Cemais by storming the castle of Newport, where Nevern comes down to the sea, and from there made heavy raids southward into Rhos, and came near enough to Haverfordwest to set up a great flutter in Humphrey de Bohun's garrison there. Thus we continued until the first week of July, for the grip of the English marchers was strongest of all in this corner of Wales, and what damage we could do to that stranglehold in so short a time we did. Then we drew off in good order, leaving Newport garrisoned in fair strength, and made our way briskly back to Dynevor.

  There was no more bustle than usual about the baileys when we rode in, and we had no warning, except that there was a young woman who came out at the clatter of our arrival to see what was happening, and then clapped her hands and ran into the great hall to carry the news. And we were but dismounting in the inner bailey when another figure appeared in the broad doorway, and came slowly and carefully down the step towards us. She was very richly and gaily dressed, her coiled hair uncovered to the sun, and there was about her an air of joy and solemnity, as though she kept a festival of her own. By the black of that coiled hair, that was almost blue in the sun, like David's, and by the beauty of the face she raised only when she reached the foot of the steps and stood on level ground, I knew her. Those same long lashes and dark eyes she had raised upon King Henry's face, and dazzled him, long ago in the guest-hall of Shrewsbury abbey. True, she was not now so slender as then, her body was thickened with maturity, and with the bearing of two children. Of three, rather, for she went with such care upon the steps, and looked up only when she was on level ground, by reason of the infant she carried in her arms. The Lady Gladys had brought her third child home as soon as she was strong enough to bear the journey, impatient for the happy reunion her husband's messengers had promised.

  Rhys saw her and gave a cry of triumph and joy, and dropping his rein before the groom could reach him, ran like a deer to embrace his wife and child, which he did, after the impetuosity of his approach, with slow and reverent care. He kissed her above the child's head, tender of its smallness and softness, and then with a timid hand put back the shawl from its face and looked at it in wonder, as though he had not two children already, but this were the first ever to be born, and a miracle.

  He looked round then at us, and laid an arm about his wife's shoulders, and brought her to Llewelyn, who stood motionless where Rhys had left him, watching them draw near. At her face he gazed with earnest searching and deep wonder, as Rhys did at the child. He had not seen her for sixteen years, and through most of those years all he had known of her was her implacable
enmity towards him. He had everything to learn. Something she had already learned, or so it seemed by her smile, which was faint, mysterious and radiant.

  "My lord," said Rhys, "I think you have long desired to be better known to your sister, who is my wife. She is here, and hale, and desires as much of you."

  She was the elder by a year, and a woman, and more over, a woman of great assurance, like her mother, yet even she did not know how to begin, for everything that had passed lay between them now, not as a barrier to be stormed, only as a ruinous waste to be clambered over before they could reach each other, and it was hard to find a way through without stumbling. David, who would have clasped and kissed her without a thought, stood back behind my shoulder and let them alone. I felt his hand close upon my arm as he watched them, and I knew that he was smiling. David had many smiles. This one, withdrawn and still, womanishly tender against his will, belonged only to Llewelyn. But it never lasted long.