The Winds of the Heavens (Sons of Rhodri Medieval Romance Series)

by Anna Markland

  She sensed her sister’s excitement to impart some news. How in tune they were, even when apart. They divined each other’s thoughts, though they never spoke of this ability. People feared such notions. They guarded the secret, one of many they shared.

  As she drifted into sleep, her knees tucked into her chest, she recalled fondly her parents’ despair at the antics of their mischievous girls. How she and Glain had hated being reprimanded as children, yet punishment had never deterred them! A tear trickled down her cheek. She would welcome even a scolding word from her long dead parents now. She sniffled and pressed her hand to her cold nose. The last thing she remembered before sleep claimed her was the comforting aroma of the healing herbs she had handled during the day.

  ***

  “She’s coming, Glain, your sister’s coming!”

  Glain looked up from her close inspection of the covering on her patient’s broken leg. “Thank you, Gwilym. You’re a good and faithful lookout. Take this packet of herbs to your mother as a reward.”

  The urchin beamed, grabbed his prize and ran out of the cottage. Lord Rhys was as comfortable as she could make him, drugged to ease his pain. The other man, the Earl, still lay in a stupor by the hearth. She must speak with Isolda before her sister entered the village, to let her know of the arrangements for her to stay in another cottage—and why.

  Was she doing the right thing? Despite Rhun and Rhydderch’s obvious interest the previous evening, common sense told her neither man would wish to marry a humble bonesetter. Noble blood ran in their veins. They were the sons of a prince. The reality pained—she had been drawn at once to the one called Rhun. Strange—the men were twins, yet one definitely drew her eye, and her heart, and other unmentionable parts of her body.

  However, she would not be any man’s mistress. She wanted a family, children, a husband who loved and cherished her, though she often despaired of the chances of finding such a man in Llanfarran. Male twins stumbling into their village presented a perfect opportunity to play the trick she and her sister had used to hoodwink others. The men might be angry once they found out, but they too were twins; they would understand and accept with good grace. Better to enjoy an amusing interlude with these attractive men than to have her heart broken.

  All seemed in order as she glanced round the cottage, throwing on her shawl. She stole away quietly and hastened to meet her identical twin.

  ***

  Isolda sat down heavily on a massive fallen oak. “But I am weary, Glain. I want to go home.” She came close to stamping her foot like a petulant child. Ewan shrugged his shoulders and sat beside her. “Uncle and I have been walking since dawn. Why can’t we go to the cottage?”

  Glain explained about Rhun and Rhydderch ap Rhodri bringing their wounded brothers. “There’s no room for you to sleep!”

  Isolda had seen the unmistakable signs of the rescue. She shuddered to think of anyone lying injured in the narrow gorge. “I heard about the accident and was told the men had been brought to Llanfarran. But there is more to this than you are telling me. The gleam in your eyes betrays you.”

  Ewan came to his feet with the aid of his staff. “I see it too. Glain has something naughty in mind.”

  Glain reddened. “Just a harmless idea.”

  Ewan chortled. “Aha! Full of mischief, as usual.”

  The twins exchanged a smile as Glain laid out her plan. They would lead the noblemen to believe they both pursued the same woman. The ruse had worked before with unsuspecting swains.

  Ewan wagged his finger. “You’d best be careful. One of these days you’ll be caught in your own net. You say they are princes?”

  Glain shook her head. “Their older brother is the prince, the one with the broken leg. They’re sons of Rhodri ap Owain.”

  Ewan arched his brows in surprise. “The patriot? Why wouldn’t you want them to woo you?”

  Isolda had not met the twins, but she understood her sister’s concerns. “Men of noble birth aren’t interested in village girls—not as wives.”

  Their uncle sat down again with a sigh. “Maybe you’re right. Too bad. I would be proud to boast my nieces-by-marriage were wed to famous Welsh patriots.”

  They shared the humour, but Isolda noticed a hint of sadness in Glain’s eyes. Her sister took a deep breath. “Now, go to Ivor’s cottage. There’s food ready for you both. I must get back to my charges. Take care Rhun and Rhydderch don’t catch us together.”

  Resigned to the game, Isolda came to her feet. “How will I recognize them?”

  Glain giggled. “Don’t worry, you can’t miss them.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Rhun watched Glain as she gathered herbs in the woods near the cottage. She startled when she caught sight of him leaning against a tree, half hidden by its shade. She probably thought he was still at his sleeping brother’s bedside, but he had followed her.

  She bowed her head and blushed. Blood rushed to his tarse.

  “Yr Arglwydd, you surprised me.”

  He clasped his hands behind his back, resisting the urge to touch her. “You needn’t be formal. My name is Rhun. I’m enjoying watching you.”

  He couldn’t describe the exact colour of the long eyelashes she fluttered, but he recognized their effect on him. He hastily unclasped his hands and grabbed her basket to hold in front of his arousal. “Tell me about the herbs.”

  She smiled, poking through the pile, apparently unaware of his discomfort as the woven pannier brushed against his shaft. She rhymed off the names as she touched each one—betony, winter savory, sage, coriander—

  Rhun heard nothing except her voice, and was aware of nothing other than the swell of her shapely breasts and the curve of her hips. The aroma of her hair mingled with the scents of the freshly picked herbs. He wanted to wrap the long strands around his body, rub the silkiness between the pads of his fingertips. He closed his eyes and imagined her lying naked beneath him.

  Her voice broke into his reverie. “Lord Rhun? Are you listening? You asked me about the herbs.”

  His eyes flew open. Something lodged in his throat. “Yes—er—I’m very interested in the properties of herbs. My mother was a renowned healer.”

  Drivel! I’m spouting drivel!

  She gave him a strange look. “I know of your mother, as I told you when we first met.”

  A hint of mockery? “Er—yes, you did tell me.” He took a deep breath, hoping his face was not as red as his hair. “I—I’m so taken with you I forget my own name.”

  She smiled and sighed deeply. “Your name is Rhun. It’s an exciting name, a name to be proud of, a name that conjures images of a brave warrior, passionate about Wales and its people.”

  Her seductive voice singing his praises, uttering words like exciting and passionate, overwhelmed him. He dropped the basket and bent to kiss her, pulling her to him. “This Welsh warrior is particularly passionate about one certain Welshwoman.” He hoped the hard need he pressed to her body would not alarm her.

  To his surprise, she did not resist, but ran her fingers through his hair. Her mouth opened slowly to welcome his probing tongue.

  Her response thrilled him and he murmured her name.

  “Rhun,” she whispered in return, “I love your hair.”

  Many women had expressed their admiration for his hair, but now it was as if he was hearing it for the first time. “I inherited it from my great grandfather, Dafydd. I love everything about you. You fill my senses.”

  She eased away from his arousal and averted her eyes. “Rhun, you’re here for a few days. I’m a maid. I live in this village. I cannot—”

  He pressed his lips to her forehead, the word maid playing havoc with his senses. “I would never dishonour you. I’m a man of honour, a son of Rhodri ap Owain.”

  The arrival of Rhydderch interrupted their conversation. Rhun took his hands off Glain’s waist and pulled away, somehow feeling unreasonably guilty. Rhydderch scowled at him. “Rhun, I’ve been looking for you. Baudoin is awake and
wishes to speak to us.”

  “Go!” Glain murmured to Rhun. “You’re summoned by the Earl.”

  His hackles rose. He hated Normans and only tolerated Baudoin because he was married to their sister. As long as he lived he would never understand why his father had agreed to the marriage. He made a clipped bow and strode off with his brother.

  Once out of Glain’s sight, Rhydderch grasped his elbow and pulled him up short. “Rhun, you and I have shared everything all our lives, but I’ll be hard pressed to share Glain with you.”

  Rhun stared into his brother’s eyes. His heart fell. For the first time in his life his twin was his rival. “Rhydderch—brother—”

  He couldn’t find the right words and fled to Glain’s cottage to await Baudoin’s pleasure and to attend to Rhys.

  ***

  Much later the same day, one of the twins encountered Glain as she strained to draw water from the village well. He strode to her side holding out his hand. “Let me help you with the pail.”

  The warmth of her fingers penetrated his skin as their hands touched on the handle.

  She seemed taken aback and removed her hand quickly. “Thank you, er—”

  He smiled to conceal an uncharacteristic irritation. He should be used to having to identify himself. “Rhydderch.”

  She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and fluttered her eyelashes at him, sending heat roaring through his body. “Thank you, Rhydderch. It’s a relief to have a strong man to help with such heavy tasks.”

  His masculinity stroked, he rose to her bait. “Would I could please you in other ways a strong man can.”

  Inanities! I’ve lost my wits!

  His face flushed and his tarse stood to attention, straining against the confines of his leggings. Had she noticed? Was she trying not to smile?

  She touched her delicate fingers to his head. “I love your red hair. Your name befits your colouring. Was your father a redhead?”

  Would the pail hide his growing need? “No—er—my great grandfather, Dafydd had copper hair.”

  She smiled. “Ah, copper hair.”

  Did she mock him? Better to take the bull by the horns. He dropped the pail, put his hands on her shoulders and drew her to his body, nuzzling her hair. “Mmm, like molten silver. You make me lose my senses.”

  She eased away from his arousal, but his hands remained on her shoulders. “Rhydderch, you’re here for a few days. I’m a maid. I live in this village. I cannot—”

  He pressed his lips to her forehead, the desire to bed this maid dominating his thoughts. “I would never dishonour you. I’m a man of honour, a son of Rhodri ap Owain.”

  Rhun’s sarcastic voice intruded. “You dropped the pail, brother.”

  The woman who had aroused him jumped away and looked wide-eyed at Rhun. Did she feel guilty at being caught with the wrong twin? Did she prefer Rhun? Rhydderch wanted to hit his brother squarely in the jaw when he took her hand and pressed it to his lips.

  The intensity of his emotions left him as confused as she seemed to be. His response to Glain had been somehow different from yestereve, different even from when he had come across Rhun and Glain in the herb garden. Now jealousy consumed him, his blood boiled. Yesterday had been about the needs of his weary body and, admittedly, the usual brotherly rivalry. Now he was obsessed. Was it because he had been alone with her at the well—until his cursed brother had shown up?

  He scowled at Rhun, noticing Glain’s flushed cheeks. “What do you want? Did you come to tell me something?”

  Rhun coughed and tore his gaze away from Glain, a bemused expression on his face. “What? Oh, yes, we’re examining the horses. We need your expertise, to make sure they’re fit for the return journey.”

  Some of Rhydderch’s anger left him. His twin bowed to his superior knowledge of horseflesh, just as he never envied Rhun his skills as a bowman. He linked his arm in his brother’s and they strode off together.

  ***

  Isolda bent to pick up the bucket and swayed on her feet. She grasped the rough stones of the well for support, unsure of what had just happened. The sheer size of the first twin to greet her could set a maiden’s heart beating wildly. Glain spoke true. They were not hard to recognise! And the red hair! Was the rich colour the reason she had reached up and run her fingers through it?

  When Rhydderch had come upon her at the well and offered his help, his deep voice penetrated to her belly, and lower. Perhaps his unexpected arrival had sent heat spiralling between her legs. She had not known which twin approached her at first. This was no good. The man’s beauty and stature had her acting like a silly young girl. Yet, when his brother happened upon them—nothing. No clenching in the gut, no tightened nipples.

  By the saints! She was hot and bothered. She and Glain planned to have fun, not get caught up in the charms of either man. In a few days they would be gone. At least she seemed to have fooled them into believing she was Glain.

  ***

  Rhun watched his brother carefully examine the horses and ponies, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The encounter at the well perplexed him. True, jealousy had stabbed him when he had seen Rhydderch drop the pail and draw Glain to his body, but it was not the overwhelming anger of yesterday, or of this midday when Rhydderch had interrupted them in the herb garden.

  His emotions warred within him. Perhaps the stress of the rescue and his worries for Rhys had him confused.

  ***

  Similar encounters continued for five days. By the sixth day Glain declared Baudoin fit to travel and Rhys was making progress. She sensed a desire on the part of the twins to kill each other. She and Isolda had played a masterful game with the pair who acted like two jousting knights ready to square off over a fair damsel.

  But she had not taken into account they were twins, and she should have known better. She had believed they could play this intriguing and daring game with the obviously enamoured redheads, but the more time she spent with Rhun the more attracted she became. Trapped in his gaze, her breasts tightened and tingled. The slightest touch of his fingers sent a heated ache spiralling into her belly. Though Rhun’s hands were healing well, she made any excuse to examine them. On the rare occasions when they had a chance to meet, her sister confided that the more she toyed with Rhydderch the more she liked him. They shared confidences about the unfamiliar wanton urges assailing their bodies. They had begun the game in the belief the brothers would never have any interest in a village girl. Now they were not sure it had been a good idea. The men thought they pursued one person and seemed too serious by far.

  The day the visitors left, each twin swore his intention to return. Isolda and Glain would wait and see, hoping it was true, but nervous it might be.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Rhun and Rhydderch escorted an exhausted Rhys safely to the llys at Powwydd. They barely spoke on the journey Baudoin rode on to Ellesmere Castle. Rhys rested a few days before following him to retrieve his pregnant wife, Annalise

  The twins set about making preparations to return to Glain’s village, but neither seemed willing to broach the subject uppermost in their minds.

  Several days after Rhys’s departure, a messenger arrived from Ellesmere. Their sister Carys had come close to death giving birth to a daughter, but Rhys had saved her life by using ancient lore passed on by their mother. Now Baudoin bade them hasten to Ellesmere to meet their new niece, Fleurie de Montbryce.

  Anxious as they were to reunite with Glain and solve their dilemma, they also wanted to reassure themselves of Carys’s recovery.

  They returned to Llanfarran after several sennights, but Glain was nowhere to be found. Rhun raked his fingers through his hair. “Perhaps this is a sign. Maybe she doesn’t want either of us! It has taken so long to get back here, she probably thinks we’ve recovered from our infatuation.”

  Rhydderch scowled. “It’s not an infatuation as far as I’m concerned.”

  They loitered in front of the cottage for a while. Rhun hated the wall of
silent mistrust between him and his twin. Curious villagers gathered, welcoming them back. Both were disgruntled when they learned Glain had gone to a neighbouring village to set a broken elbow. Old Morgan ap Bevin stepped forward and reached for the reins of their horses. “I’d be honoured if you’d stay in my humble abode. Be glad of the company.” They thanked him as he led them to his cottage.

  ***

  In the loft of Morgan’s tiny dwelling Rhydderch lay awake all night listening to their host snoring on his pallet by the hearth. For sure Rhun feigned sleep. The morrow might bring an end to the bond they had shared since before they were born. How could he live without his brother’s love?

  But he wanted Glain, longed for her. Perhaps he and Rhun should stop behaving like boys and start acting like men. Time to lead separate lives. He prayed the three of them might come to some agreement without permanent damage being done to his relationship with his brother. Several times, he opened his mouth to speak to Rhun about their dilemma, but the words died on his lips.

  Should he suggest they share her? Did he want to? What would she say to such a proposition? No respectable woman lived with two men. It was hopeless.

  ***

  To be at odds with his brother in this matter of the bonesetter ate at Rhun. He had shared a womb with him. Could he share the woman with whom he had fallen in love? He decided to discuss it openly with his twin. They had never had any secrets from each other. He took the opportunity when they rose at dawn to break their fast at the table of their host.

  “Rhydderch, you and I, we’re more than brothers. We’re twins. We’ve shared everything since we were born, as you said a few days ago. But now, we have a problem. Glain must choose between us. I want her for wife and that is your intention too. We can’t both have her. The choice must be hers, one or the other or neither. Do you agree to abide by her decision if we put it to her?”

  Rhydderch shifted uneasily on the wooden bench. He was relieved that his brother, older by three minutes, had broached the subject, but he wanted Glain badly. Could he accept the rejection, if she chose Rhun? He ground out his reply. “I agree to abide by her decision.”