The Brothers of Gwynedd

  It was not known to us then who those seven were who set the mountain moving. But soon we knew them, and here I set them down, for fear they should some day be forgotten.

  There were among them three earls:

  Richard de Clare, earl of Gloucester,

  Roger Bigod, earl of Norfolk and earl marshal,

  Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester.

  Also to the fore, for he was a man of clear and individual mind, was Peter, Count of Savoy, uncle to Queen Eleanor of Provence, and counsellor to King Henry. And the remaining three:

  Hugh Bigod, brother to the earl marshal,

  John FitzGeoffrey, of whom I recall little but the name, for he died later

  the same year,

  Peter de Montfort, lord of Beaudesert, no close kin to the earl of Leicester,

  but head of the English family of that name—for Earl Simon was

  French, and inherited through his English grandmother, the male line

  being exhausted.

  These seven, hardly knowing themselves what they set in motion, were the beginners of that great ado between crown and baronage that shook the kingdom to the heart for many years, and drew my lord into its whirlpools, to his blessing and his bane.

  But as for us, we were about our proper business in the vale of Towy, exacting from Meredith ap Rhys Gryg the full price of treason.

  We made south by fast marches, halting but twice on the way, the second time at the abbey of Cwm Hir, and so came over the bare, heathy hills skirting Builth, and struck into the upper valley of the Towy above Llandovery. At that town the castle was securely held for Rhys Fychan, there was no stirring of Meredith's men in those parts, and we were assured our coming was not yet expected. There, too, a body of archers and lancers came east under Meredith ap Owen of Uwch Aeron, the loyal one of our two Merediths, to join us in that enterprise. For though his two commotes were in no great danger, for all King Henry's impudent gift of them and Meredith ap Rhys Gryg's more insolent acceptance, yet the insult from both was sharp, and not to be borne without reprisals. This other Meredith was a quiet, steady, grave man some ten years older than my lord, slow to anger and cautious in council, but staunch to his word and resolute once roused, and Llewelyn set great store by his opinion.

  From Llandovery we swept on down the river valley, and did no harm to any holding that was not the seisin of Meredith ap Rhys Gryg, but from what was his we drove off the cattle and burned the barns, and where any holding was fortified we burned that, too, laying his lands open as we passed. All along that green, wide valley we spurred faster than our own report, until we came where the castle of Dynevor, that was Rhys Fychan's principal seat and the heart-castle of his royal line, loomed on its green mound among the flowering meadows, with the river coiling round its southern approaches. There we made a testing assault, but it was plain that the place was very strongly held, for the prestige of conquest no less than for its real worth, and so we made but one night halt there, deploying a small force of archers to occupy the hills around and plague the garrison, so that they would hardly dare venture out of the gates, to test the numbers of those who held them in siege. For this castle, strong though it was, was open to archery from the hills enclosing it, which were well wooded and gave excellent cover. Unlike Rhys Fychan's second castle, which by its very situation was almost impregnable, being built upon a great crag, with sheer cliffs on three sides, and only one ridge by which it could be approached. There in Carreg Cennen the Lady Gladys, with her three little sons and her household, was safely guarded. For which I gave thanks to God, for there was one among her women who drew me by the heart, and whom I dreaded to see as greatly as I longed for it, Cristin, Llywarch's daughter.

  But at this time I was not to be put to the torment of looking upon her again, for we had no call to go to Carreg Cennen. Our business was with Meredith ap Rhys Gryg in his fortress of Dryslwyn, a few miles downstream along the Towy valley.

  In the night we heard repeated calling of owls across the river, from the woods on the southern side, and knew that Rhys Fychan had brought his own muster from Carreg Cennen to join us. But we made no move as yet, nor did he, beyond sending out a runner who made his way to us safely in the darkness across the open water-meadows below the castle. A little, gnarled, bow-legged knife-man he was, as dark and seasoned as a blackthorn bush, and wise in every track in his native region. We uncovered our turf-damped fire for him, for he had swum the river to come to us, and by night this glimmer would hardly be seen as far as Dynevor for the thick growth of trees between. He said that his lord had left Carreg Cennen well held and his lady in good heart with her children, and, if the lord prince approved, Rhys proposed to join his forces with ours not here, but well downstream, at the easy passage which the messenger would show us, so that the garrison in Dynevor might have no way of judging what numbers we had, or what part of them we had left to contain the defenders within their stolen fortress.

  Llewelyn approved him heartily, but said that if Rhys Fychan knew the ford of which he spoke, and knew it passable at this time—for the river was past the highest spring flow, but still fresh and full—there was no need for us to leave cover, and we might await him in the forest. For until now we had run ahead of our legend, and trusted to strike at Dryslwyn before they knew we were anywhere near. The messenger grinned and shook his head.

  "My lord, by our advice it's you must cross, not we. Well I know Dryslwyn castle is on this side of Towy, but Meredith ap Rhys Gryg is not in Dryslwyn. He has wind of you. His castellan here in Dynevor got a runner away to him before you closed the ring, and he's in Carmarthen by now, and if you want him it's to Carmarthen you must go. The force that took Dynevor for him is still in arms there, and the king's seneschal has brought a fresh muster in haste from Kidwelly to strengthen Meredith's hand. We had a man there watching when they rode into the town, not two hours before midnight."

  "Then they'll hardly have had time to order their ranks," said Llewelyn, "and we had best move fast." And he questioned the man closely what numbers the seneschal might have with him, for it seemed that King Henry felt obliged to give all possible aid to his first renegade client, as well he might if he wished to attract others.

  "If Patrick of Chaworth is leading Meredith's allies in person, and in such force," said Llewelyn, "it behoves us to make as notable a demonstration of our own power, or there'll be more waverers. This bids fair to be the feudal host under another name." For de Chaworth, lord of Kidwelly and king's representative over most of south Wales, did not commit his forces lightly in defence of even a well-disposed Welsh chieftain. Plainly he had his orders from the highest. Meredith ap Rhys Gryg was to stand or fall as a symbol of what King Henry could do for those who came to his peace.

  "At what hour," Llewelyn asked, "should Rhys Fychan be ready for us beyond the ford?" For it was agreed that the cover was better on that side of Towy if we wished to drive straight at Carmarthen, and though the town lay on this hither side we did not wish to meddle with the town, where we might well be tangled in too long and confused a contest against so strong a garrison. If we could set up an untimely alarm and bring them out over the bridge to us before their order was perfected or their commands properly appointed, we could do them much damage at little cost.

  "He is on the move now," said the man, "leaving archers to mark Dynevor from the woods. Unless we march within the hour he'll be waiting for us."

  "It suits well," said Llewelyn. "I never knew a town yet that liked a dawn alarm. With luck the folk may cause enough confusion to do half our work for us."

  So within the hour we marched, traversing the slopes of the hills among the trees until we were well clear of any eye or ear in Dynevor, and then moving steadily down into the meadows. It was still dark when we crossed the river, the guide going before in a darting, mayfly fashion, for the firm passage was complex, and flanked by deep pools. When he had shown the whole crossing and brought the prince safely over, he stood thigh-deep on a spit i
n midstream, and guided the rest across. This is a broad valley and green, and even in spring the flow is not dangerously fast. But still I remember the cold of it, and the way my pony quivered and shook her mane as she waded it.

  From this on we pressed hard, to be upon them in Carmarthen before they were aware of us, and the meeting with Rhys Fychan's muster, in a clearing among the woods on the southern bank, was accomplished in near-silence and almost on the march. There was little time for greeting of friends or avoiding of enemies when those two war-bands joined. They moved forth from the darkness of the trees, we out of the shrub growth and alders along the river bank. Rhys rode forward and leaned to Llewelyn's kiss, and he was no more than a slender, bearded shape outlined by the gleam of his light mail hauberk in the late moonlight. There was barely four years between those two, Rhys being the elder, and though they had been friends but half a year they had a great understanding each for the other, and needed few minutes and few words to have their plans made. Then we rode, rushing upon Carmarthen as vehemently as we could, for there was already a faint pre-dawn light that made speed possible.

  Yet on that ride, though Rhys's lancers were but shapes to me, being helmed and mailed, still I looked about me covertly in constraint and dread to find among them a certain fair and lofty head, and a comely, easy face ever ready for laughter. No friend to me, though he willed to be, and I had no just reason for resisting. And no enemy, either, for he wished me well, and I, if I could not do as much for him, at least prayed earnestly in my heart that I might keep from wishing him ill. For Rhys Fychan's knight, Godred ap Ivor, was my half-brother, though he was not aware of the blood tie as I was. He was lawful son to the father I had never known, and who had known my mother but one night of her life, the night that brought me into being.

  God knows that was not to be held against him. Had he come to me otherwise, I might have welcomed a brother. But he had a wife, and his wife was my Cristin, whom I had found in innocence when he was thought dead, and in innocence loved, and in anguish resigned to him when he returned from the dead. God so decreed that it should be I who discovered and restored her her lord. In my life are many ironies, but none greater than that. And three kinds of brothers have I had, and he the only one bound to me by blood, and the only one alien in my heart and mind. For Llewelyn was my star brother, my twin born in the same night, and David was my breast-brother, my mother being his nurse from the day of his birth. And to both my love flowed freely, but to Godred it would not flow. He had but to come within my sight and it froze, and was stilled, proof even against the warmth of hand or breath. For Cristin's sake I could not love him.

  In this country I was always aware of him, even as I was of her. On that night ride I looked sidelong at every man who drew abreast of me, and the hairs stood up on my neck like hackles as I peered after the features of faces half-glimpsed under the stars. But he was not there. That was not asked of me, that I should suffer his gladness at sight of me, and bear to ride beside him in the bitterness of fellowship. Surely he was left behind with the garrison in Carreg Cennen.

  I gave thanks to God, too soon. And God visited me with another torment, I doubt not well-deserved, seeing how ill I used a harmless, well-intentioned man. It was but nine months since I had turned without a word in the bailey at Dolwyddelan, and left those two together. Just enough time for a child to be conceived and carried and brought into the world! And man and wife reunited after parting and sorrow commonly beget and conceive in the first joy of reunion.

  With such piercing thoughts I tore my own heart, well knowing that with her it was not so. For there had been no joy. It was my ultimate grief that I had bestowed on her no blessing, but a curse. For the last glimpse of her face had told me clearly enough where Cristin's joy lay, and where her love was given.

  It was ill thinking of these things for which there was no remedy, but I had not long for fretting, there being work to do very soon. For in the haste and turmoil of an alarm at earliest dawn, Meredith ap Rhys Gryg and Patrick of Chaworth brought their armies fumbling and hurtling out of the town of Carmarthen to fend us off, just as we massed and moulded our first charge to shatter them.

  The light, everywhere but in the east, was still dove-grey and secret, the eastern sky was a half-circle of palest primrose, with a drop of molten gold at its centre. We came out of the gentle slopes of woodland and over the meadows, driving at the end of the bridge, and across the river from us lights flared and flickered in the town. We saw the half of de Chaworth's host spreading like spilled water from the narrow bottle of the bridge, and galloping wildly into station to hold us off, turgid with haste and confusion, but so many that the heart shrank, beholding them. We saw their numbers multiply, pressing across the bridge. We saw Meredith's banner, and found his thick, hunched body in its leather and fine mail, leaning forward into the thrust of his lance before he so much as spurred to meet us. We struck them while they were no more than half poised, and recoiled, and massed to strike again, before they were well set to stand us off.

  That was no very orderly battle, but a violent assault and a rapid withdrawal several times repeated. For a brief while we stripped the bridge-head of its defences, but we had no will to cross, for their numbers, as well as I could estimate, were nearly double ours, and those are odds not acceptable for long to a wise captain. Nor did we want Carmarthen, no doubt rich and profitable to sack, but we had other business, and in this land, where we were welcome to live freely off the tenants, we had no need and no incentive to plunder the townspeople. Many of them might well be of our party, if they had the means to show it. We aimed rather at those persons we most needed to disarm and unman.

  For my part, I did my best to keep always in that place I had made my own, at Llewelyn's left quarter, another shield covering his shield. I drove with him against Patrick of Chaworth, whom he singled out from all. And it seemed to me, as I kept station beside him, that he saw in Patrick an image of the king, who was England, and held status as the enemy of Wales. He could better tolerate Meredith, the seduced, than Henry the seducer. It was left for Rhys Fychan, who had the best right, to level his lance at his uncle, and in the shock of their meeting Meredith went dazed over his horse's tail, but his mounted men flowing round him covered him long enough to let him remount, and in the mêlée, which was tight and confused for a while, those two enemies were forced apart. So was I separated from my lord's side, for our two hosts had meshed like interlaced fingers and clung fast, and even at the command of the horn we had some ado to draw off and stand clear to strike again.

  It was in this pass, while we heaved and strained with shortened swords and axes at close quarters, that I saw from the comer of my eye Rhys Fychan's livery ripped sidelong from the saddle and crashing to the ground among the stamping hooves, where there was scarcely room to fall. And, wheeling that way, I heard the felled man cry out, clear and shrill in terror even through the clamour that battered our ears, and saw his body, young and lissome, slide down between the heaving flanks, catching at stirrup and saddle and finding no hold. And I saw that the stroke that swept him from his horse had burst the thongs of his helm and torn it from his head, and the hair that spilled out over his face was fair as wheaten straw, or barley-silk in the harvest. So I saw again my half-brother Godred, and terrible it was to me that he should appear to me only at this extreme, for his every danger was my temptation. Once I might have slain him, and no one any the wiser, and I did not. But this time I had only to let him be, and he was a dead man, and my hands unreddened.

  So the mind reasons, even in an instant briefer than the splintering of sunlight from a sword. But happily the body also has its ways of thinking, which are all action, too fleet for the mind to turn them back. So I found that I had tugged my pony's head round and urged her with heel and knee, and like the clever mountain mare she was, used to riding tightly with hounds, she straddled Godred and stood over him without trampling so much as one pale hair of his head, while I swung left and right about m
e to clear a little ground for him to rise, and having won a meagre, trampled space of turf reached down a hand to him to pull him to his feet.

  He rolled from under her belly heaving at breath, and grasped my hand and clung, leaning heavily on my knee a moment before he lifted his head and knew me. The spark of recognition lit in his round brown eyes in two golden flames. There was time then for nothing more than that, for the mêlée had broken apart, and we made good haste out of the press, he clinging by my stirrup-leather and running beside me, for my pony could not carry the two of us. He was unhurt but for the bruises of his fall, and quick to borrow the first advantage, for when a riderless horse trotted by us close he loosed his hold, clapped me on the thigh by way of farewell, and caught at the trailing bridle. The beast shied from him, but not for long, for by the time I was back at Llewelyn's side and poised for a new assault I saw him come cantering and wheeling smartly into the line. Bareheaded he went into battle with us that time, and so contrived that he rode close to me, and from his place saluted me with raised hand and a flash of his wide eyes as we leaned into the charge.

  In that bout we struck them from two sides, sharply but briefly, for there were new reserves still crowding over the bridge to their support. So we drove in vehemently wherever we saw a weak place, to do them what hurt we might while we might. Rhys Fychan sought out Meredith ap Rhys Gryg yet again, and that time I saw the sword cleave through his shoulder harness and into his flesh, and he was down again in the lush grass of the river bank, turning the bright blades red. When we obeyed the prince's signal and quit the field, we turned before dissolving into the cover of the woods, and watched Meredith taken up and carried away in his blood, over the bridge and into the town.