A Memory of Love

by Bertrice Small

  The prince of the Welsh smiled slowly. "This time, daughter," he said, "you have married a real man. I do like you, Rafe de Beaulieu." He clapped his son-in-law upon the back in a friendly gesture.

  It was decided that the prince, along with a troop of men-at-arms from Cythraul, would travel several hours behind the others. They would not enter Aberforth until signaled. Rhonwyn, Rafe, and Dewi would come to Rhys ap Daffydd's castle in their guise as traveling entertainers. Rhonwyn had decided to dress herself as a female in boy's garb, the better to entice the castle's master. Oth would leave Cythraul in the morning, Rhonwyn and her party would come two hours behind him, and the prince and his men would be four hours behind them.

  The evening meal was served, and afterward Gwilym sang several ballads of ancient times. "But," he told them as he so often did, "my laddie, Glynn, has sung and played them better."

  "Now he sings and plays for God," Rhonwyn said.

  "My only son, a priest," the prince muttered, disgusted.

  "He's happy," Rhonwyn said quietly. "Besides, when you can celebrate your marriage to de Montfort's daughter, get yourself a son on her. That child will be your legitimate heir."

  "I've been betrothed to the wench for long enough, but she is hidden in a convent in France, and the English will not give her permission to travel through their lands so we may marry," ap Gruffydd groused. "Edward Longshanks is in fear of de Montfort's daughter, the fool."

  "King Edward is scarcely a fool, my lord," Rhonwyn told her father. "It is you, I'm thinking, who is foolish. Why will you not pledge your fealty to him? If you did, perhaps your bride could come to Wales, and you would have many sons. But nay, you will niggle and haggle to gain an advantage you will never obtain from this king. He is a hard man like his grandfather King John, although he can be quite charming. Nonetheless, Tad, he will have his own way, and you and your allies will eventually cost Wales her freedom, I have not a doubt."

  The prince looked extremely disgruntled by her words. "You still speak your own mind, Rhonwyn, I see," he said. "The English shall not have Wales as long as I live. I swear it on the true cross!"

  "Words come easy to you, my lord, but 'tis actions that count," Rhonwyn said scathingly.

  Rafe was fascinated by the combative relationship between lather and daughter. He knew that ap Gruffydd had had next to nothing to do with her upbringing, but he had not realized before just how bitter Rhonwyn was toward the prince of the Welsh. Absently Rafe took her hand in his and, raising it to his lips, kissed each fingertip. "Let us retire, wife," he said low. "We will have a long day tomorrow."

  Ap Gruffydd sipped on his wine thoughtfully, but when his daughter and her husband had crawled into their bedspace, he said to Morgan ap Owen, "He manages her well, and she does not even realize it. She must indeed love him, Morgan."

  The captain of Cythraul smiled his reply.

  Oth was gone before the dawn, and Rhonwyn and her party followed him two hours later. They had borrowed several of Gwilym's old instruments, for it was likely they would have to perform. Dewi and Rhonwyn were skilled in such arts, but Rafe was not. When they camped that night she taught him how to keep time with a tambourine and cymbalum, which were a type of bells. Dewi was adept on the pibau, or bagpipes, and the pibgorn, a reed instrument. Rhonwyn would play the Telyn-a Celtic harp-as well as the lute, and sing.

  They traveled from dawn till dusk for two days. On the morning of the third day they reached Aberforth Castle, meeting Oth but an hour after they sighted the castle, and they drew their mounts into a wooded area off the road to await him. Seeing them, he stopped.

  "She's there," he said, "and in the dirty, stained gown they took her in, for the leman of the master will not loan her a clean garment. These are wicked people, my lady. Be careful. I shall ride on to meet with your father and tell him what I have learned."

  "Into the lion's den," Rhonwyn said, and kicked her mount forward.

  They rode down the road, across the heavy wooden drawbridge beneath the portcullis, and into the castle courtyard, asking for the steward when they stopped.

  "You must go into the hall," the stable boy said. "He will not come out here, for who are you but a ragtag and itinerant bunch?"

  "Will you watch our horses, you handsome fellow?" Rhonwyn said, favoring the lad with a broad smile and chucking him beneath the chin. She bent, allowing him a generous view of her breasts. "We'll make it worth your while," she purred.

  The boy swallowed hard, scarcely able to look away from her bosom. Without a word he took the reins and nodded, blushing beet red when Rhonwyn pinched his cheek and blew him a kiss.

  "Must you be so damned bold?" Rafe muttered as they mounted the steps to the porch and went through the door of the castle.

  "Men like bold women, for they always assume that bold women are bad women," Rhonwyn told him. "I may have to do things that I would certainly not do otherwise, Rafe, but you must trust me."

  "Aye, my lord, follow her lead," Dewi said. "She's a clever lass and more than once got us out of a scrape as we made our way home through France."

  In the great hall they asked for the steward and were directed to his chamber. Knocking, they entered, and Rhonwyn immediately spoke up.

  "Greetings, my lord steward. I am Anghard, and these are my two companions, Dewi and Rafe. We are musicians and thought perhaps that you might have a need of a night's entertainment."

  "It is not often we get travelers in this place," the steward said, a hint of suspicion in his voice. "Where are you from and where are you bound for, Anghard?"

  "We have no real home, my lord steward, but we have at last been in Shrewsbury and now make our way to Prince Llywelyn's stronghold, for we hear he is a lover of music and generous to boot. We have spent the last two nights out-of-doors and would welcome a night beneath a strong roof with a fire and some hot food." She smiled at him.

  "I can save you a long trip," the steward said, "for the prince will be here in a few days' time. He is coming to visit my master, Rhys ap Daffydd, lord of this castle. We will give you a week or more of shelter, Anghard, and you and your companions will entertain us, eh?"

  "With pleasure, my lord steward, and I thank you for your generosity," Rhonwyn said.

  "Go into the hall," the steward told them. "You may sleep there and eat at the lord's tables below the salt. If you play well, there may be a little something else for you as well."

  "Thank you, my lord steward," Rhonwyn said, bowing as she backed from the room.

  "You are a devious woman," Rafe said as they returned to the hall. "I should have believed you myself did I not know you."

  "We must find the perfect place," Rhonwyn said to Dewi, "and then you must make certain my alborium is ready to be used. We'll watch for servants while you prepare it, for if it is learned we have brought weapons into this lord's hall, we may be killed for our daring."

  They found a niche in a dark corner and, drawing a bench before it, shielded Dewi as he prepared Rhonwyn's bow for use when the proper time came. When all was in readiness they rested, waiting for the main meal of the day when they would certainly be asked to entertain. In midafternoon the servants began to come into the hall with platters and bowls. Rhys ap Daffydd, his leman, his captain, his brother, Ifan, and Katherine came into the great hall and took their places at the high board. The tables below the salt began to fill, and Rhonwyn and her companions found seats at the very last table.

  At the high board a plethora of dishes was served, but below the salt there was bread, a pottage, and some hard cheese with only beer to drink. Rhonwyn looked toward the dais, seeing that Katherine, while pale, was hardly cowed by her captors. She has more courage and strength than I believed, Rhonwyn thought proudly. She found, though, that she was angered by the fact that Rhys ap Daffydd had not had the decency to find his captive clean clothing. Katherine wore, as Oth had told them, the milk-stained gown she had been taken in. You shall soon pay for all your wickedness and deceit, Rhonwyn silently though
t.

  When the meal was over, the steward came forward and said to his master, "My lord, three traveling musicians have asked leave to entertain you in exchange for shelter and food. Anghard and troupe, come forward at once!" He waved his hand in their direction.

  Rhonwyn and her companions arose and came before the high board, playing and singing as they gamboled along. The men were dressed in spring green tunics that came to just above their knees and chausses striped in blue and green. Rhonwyn was garbed in a darker green tunic that was extraordinarily short, coming to just below the tops of her thighs. Her chausses were also striped, but in gold and green. She had loosed her hair, and it flowed down her back, hiding her alborium that was affixed there, the string of the bow hidden by the tunic's dark colors as it rode across her chest. In her hair were silk flowers of many hues. Her tunic had a bateau neckline, and she wore nothing beneath it. When she bobbed low her breasts were quite visible to all, and the length of the garment, or rather lack of it, offered a bold view of her tight, round buttocks. She was every bit the picture of an entertainer with an easy and loose virtue.

  Rhys ap Daffydd leaned forward-much to his leman's annoyance-very interested in the beautiful musician who smiled most seductively at him, bowing low with her two companions and then standing once again.

  "My lord, will you allow us to entertain you?" Rhonwyn purred in a smoky, seductive voice. "I am certain that we can please you if you will but let us." She smiled again at him, their eyes making contact, and Rhonwyn was appalled by the cruelty and the lust she saw in his gaze. This was indeed an evil man.

  "You have my permission," Rhys said grandly. He had already decided to bed the wench later.

  "Before we begin," Rhonwyn said, "may I know for whom we are performing? I enjoy making little personal songs for all if I but know their names, my lord."

  "This is my brother, Ifan, my captain, Llwyd ap Nudd, my mistress, Iola; and my guest, Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn, whose father is the prince of all the Welsh, or so say the English."

  "And many of the Welsh as well," Rhonwyn replied, "or so I am told, Rhys ap Daffydd."

  At first he wasn't certain if she had insulted him, but then he laughed. "You are bold, my pretty one."

  "And you, my lord, are a fool," she replied easily.

  There was an audible gasp in the great hall.

  "Boldness is only amusing for a brief time, wench," Rhys said threateningly. "If you offend me again, I shall have your tongue torn out, and then how will you earn your living but upon your back?"

  Rhonwyn laughed loudly. "You say your guest is the daughter of Prince Llywelyn, my lord, but I tell you she is not. It you wish to use ap Gruffydd's daughter against him, you will have no chance with this woman. She is Lady Katherine de Beaulieu of Haven Castle, wife of Lord Edward. His first marriage to ap Gruffydd's daughter was dissolved several years ago. Did you not know?"

  "And how, you audacious and brazen wench, do you know?" Rhys ap Daffydd demanded angrily.

  "Because, my lord. I am Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn." Rhonwyn replied.

  Rhys ap Daffydd stared hard at Rhonwyn, and then a cruel smile touched his mouth. "Yes," he said slowly. "Of course. Why did I not see it before when you first stood before me? You have her coloring, Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn. While you are more ap Gruffydd's daughter in your features, you have Vala's coloring. Do you remember me, my pretty? Do you remember that night I visited your cottage and had my way with your mother? Ah, how she wept and pleaded with me; and you stood, wide-eyed, clutching your baby brother in your arms. How I enjoyed that night, and how I will enjoy this one. Will you give me as much pleasure as your mother gave me so long ago, Rhownyn uerch Llywelyn?" He grinned at her.

  All in the silent hall heard the whining sound, but until the arrow buried itself deep into Rhys ap Daffydd's chest, they did not connect it with a weapon. As the lord of Aberforth fell face first into the remains of his meal, Rhonwyn loosed the two arrows that Rafe quickly handed her, one killing Ifan ap Daffydd and the other Rhys's captain, Llywd ap Nudd. Rhys's mistress began to scream in terror as the trio made their way to the high board. It was very necessary to gain control of the castle's inhabitants before they fully comprehended what had just happened.

  "Do not be afraid," Dewi shouted to them all. "Prince Llywelyn is even now marching into Aberforth. Our quarrel was with your master and his ilk. It is not with you. Welcome the prince as loyal Welshmen, and you will be left in peace. Now go and open your gates for my master."

  The hall virtually emptied at his words.

  "I'll go and make certain they obey me," Dewi said.

  "Be careful," Rhonwyn cautioned him. She turned to Rhys's mistress. "Stop howling, you silly woman! You are not hurt nor will you be unless, of course, you don't cease that unpleasant caterwauling."

  "Oh, Rhonwyn, you are so brave!" Katherine said breathlessly, hugging her sister-in-law. "When I saw you all come before the high board, I could not believe my eyes. Gracious, brother, you do have a well-turned leg," she teased him as she released Rhonwyn.

  "Thank God you are safe, Kate!" he said, hugging her hard.

  "I didn't know what was going to happen," Kate admitted, "but thank heavens for our old nurse, Wynnifred. After a few minutes the language began to come back to me, and I quickly realized they thought I was you, Rhonwyn. I was afraid to say I wasn't for fear they would kill me, and I decided that since you had grown up in such an isolated location, it was unlikely they would know I wasn't you."

  "It was cleverly done, Kate, and Edward will be proud when he learns how bravely you have conducted yourself." She turned in the woman Iola. "Selfish cow, you will regret your mean spirit. Lady Katherine's servant will pick a gown from among your possessions for her mistress, and come the morning you will go from Aberforth with only what you can carry. I am certain you will find another lordling to whore for soon enough. Leave us now!"

  Iola scurried from the great hall.

  When she had gone Rhonwyn turned to her husband and sister-in-law. "You heard Rhys ap Daffydd's words. Until he spoke I did not know him. Many years ago when I was a child he came in the dark of night to our cottage and raped my mother. She never told my father, and I do not want her memory fouled by the tale now. Dewi, I know, will say nothing."

  "I understand," Katherine said. "You have my word that I will not repeat what I have heard this night."

  Rafe put his arm about his wife, and as their eyes met he gave her his silent promise.

  People were beginning to stream back into the great hall of Aberforth Castle. They could hear cheering. I he sound of booted feet came marching toward them and into the chamber, Llywelyn ap Gruffydd at the soldiers' head upon his stallion, which he rode up to the dais, looking dispassionately at the three bodies draped across the high board.

  "Well done, daughter," he praised her. "Well done!"

  "And now, my lord tad," she replied, "you will thank Morgan ap Owen for raising me as he did."

  "I do indeed thank him," the prince said, a small smile upon his lips. "But you get your eye for marksmanship from me, daughter." His look went next to Katherine de Beaulieu. "Lady Katherine, I apologize that one of my subjects should have mistreated you so. You are free to return to Haven with your brother and Rhonwyn."

  "I thank you, my lord prince, for your timely rescue,-' Kate answered him graciously, and then she curtsied prettily.

  "Remove the bodies and put them outside for the dogs," the prince said, dismounting his beast and ascending the dais to stand before the hall, which now erupted into cheers.

  "How inconstant and capricious are men's loyalties," Rhonwyn murmured sardonically.

  "Not mine for you," Rafe said softly.

  "You are certain?" She was smiling at him.

  "Very certain," he assured her.

  She sighed happily, laying her head upon his shoulder. Whatever memories she had once had-of love or evil-had been replaced in her heart and her mind by the reality of this man and his love for her. There coul
d surely be no more than that in life. Looking up at Rafe, she smiled once again, saying, "Let us go home, my lord," and he nodded in agreement as he took her hand and they walked from the hall together.

  Ap Gruffydd watched them go, and then he said, "Oth, Dewi. You belong to her as you always have, but before you return to Ardley, will you bring Lady Katherine home to her husband?"

  "Aye, my lord," the two chorused, grinning.

  He acknowledged them absently, his eyes taking in a last glimpse of his daughter. Farewell, Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn, he said silently to himself. Farewell! And then to his surprise she turned, giving him a brilliant smile and raising her hand to him in salute.

  "Farewell, Tad!" he heard her call, and then she was gone.

  The prince of the Welsh felt his eyes moisten with tears. He blinked them back quickly lest anyone see his weakness. Now what the hell was he going to do with another castle? he thought.

  An Afterword

  The year between 1276 and 1277 was not a good one for the prince of the Welsh. Llywelyn ap Gruffydd had badly misjudged the new king, and Edward reacted fiercely to the man who would not fulfill his obligations as a vassal. He immediately declared war on the Welsh, which was concluded by an English victory at Aberconwy in 1277. As punishment Edward took most of ap Gruffydd's lands, leaving him with only Lesser Gwynedd and the overlordship of five lords. Finally chastened, ap Gruffydd was at last allowed to marry the daughter of Simon de Montfort, to whom he had been betrothed since 1265. It was hoped the marriage would settle ap Gruffydd down. The marriage took place in 1278.

  Disputes did arise regarding the use of English or Welsh law in the prince's lands, but the peace held until 1282 when ap Gruffydd's younger brother, Daffydd, attacked Harwarden. The prince, bound first by family loyalty, was forced to go to his brother's aid and was killed at Builth. He was buried at Cwm Hir, a Cistercian monastery he favored. His wife was already dead in childbirth, and his only legitimate heir was a sickly daughter, named for his sister, Gwynllian. She was put into a convent where she lived out her life. Daffydd ap Gruffydd was finally captured and executed in 1283.