A Moment in Time

by Bertrice Small

  "Oh, Madoc," she said, and his heart quickened, for she so rarely used his name, "is it wrong for me to be curious and eager? I truly am and I cannot help it. When you kiss me I find I am beset by feelings I do not understand, but I also find I want to go forward that I may learn what follows. I have had no mother to teach me, and Grandmother has said little regarding the relations between men and women."

  "Ahh, dearling," he said, and his voice was tight with his own emotions, "I am glad you have feelings for me, even if you do not understand them. They are not wrong, and I am glad you do not fear me."

  "Madoc, my brother," said Nesta, breaking into their conversation, "I think it is time that Wynne and I retired. We have not slept in a decent bed in several days, and she must be as exhausted as I am."

  Wynne arose from the high board and, seeing her do so, Gwyn and Megan left their places at the table, below the salt, to follow their two mistresses from the hall.

  The two girls kissed each other good night, and Nesta, yawning copiously, entered her own sleeping chamber gratefully. Wynne had not paid a great deal of attention to her own chamber earlier. Not in the least sleepy, she looked with interest about the room. There was a fine fireplace in which a good blaze now burned, and the room was quite warm and toasty. Beautiful tapestries woven in soft roses, blues, greens, and a natural cream color showed gentle landscapes filled with flowers, birds, and butterflies. They hung from ceiling to floor, covering much of the cold stone walls. Wynne had never seen anything like them.

  Her windows opened onto a.mountain and garden view. There were three fine-carved chests for her belongings, a table, a chair with a woven seat and a cushion, and a large, beautiful bed with pale rose curtains that appeared to have been spun from a spider's web, although actually it was simply a delicate sheer wool. Wynne was enchanted by them, for she realized they would keep her bed quite draft-free and yet they were exquisite. The bed was piled high with a featherbed and the most beautiful fluffy white furs she had ever seen.

  Megan helped her from her elegant garments, taking even her chemise, to Wynne's surprise; but she quickly replaced it with a loose-fitting garment with long, billowing sleeves. The gown was of the finest sheer linen. "Your sleeping robe, my lady," Megan said as she laced it shut with silken ribbons that ran from navel to neck.

  "I've never had one," Wynne admitted. "It's lovely."

  "You'll find many things here that exist nowhere else in our land," Megan told her. "Our lord prince has traveled as far as Byzantium." She then walked over to a small door set in the wall and opened it. "Your necessary, my lady," she explained.

  Peering in, Wynne saw a small stone bench set between the walls with a neat round hole carved in it. On a shelf above it a bronze oil lamp burned. Next to the seat a pile of neatly folded cloths had been placed. "This is truly amazing," Wynne said.

  " 'Tis but one of a thousand things that will astound you, my lady. Raven's Rock is truly like no other place." She shut the door to the necessary and said briskly, "Let me brush out your beautiful hair and then I'll help you into bed, my lady. You must be exhausted with all your travel." She undid the single, heavy braid Wynne favored, untangling it with supple fingers, brushing the hair until it shone like a swatch of black silk, then pinning it up so her mistress could sleep more comfortably.

  "There's a bed space for me in the little chamber where I hang your garments, my lady. Your Einion will have his bed space with the prince's body servant, Barris, in our lord's dressing chamber."

  "But are you warm enough? Surely the hall would be warmer for you."

  Megan was touched by Wynne's concern. "Do not fret, my lady Wynne. The fireplace from my lord's reading chamber backs up against the bed spaces. We are all quite comfortable. The prince would have it no other way. He is a good master and there is none better!"

  Wynne had seen this loyalty all day long since their arrival at Raven's Rock; Megan's easy assurances and her obvious devotion to Madoc were all such good signs, Wynne thought after the servant had left her alone. Everything was going to be fine once she accepted it and stopped fretting at every turn.

  Wynne tried to sleep, but she couldn't. She was simply too excited by her arrival here and all the wonderful things she had seen this day. Impatiently she arose from her bed, throwing back the lavender-scented sheets and the warm furs. Walking over to her windows, she gazed out. There was a wide crescent moon hanging in the heavens, but it was not so bright that she could not see the myriad stars scattered so generously by the celestial hand across the dark night skies. It was all so beautiful and so magical that she sighed with the pure pleasure of just viewing it. An arm slipped about her waist, and Wynne leaned back against the man who held her in his tender embrace.

  "You are not surprised that I am here," Madoc said, and it was a statement more than a question.

  "Nay," she answered him quietly, "for I knew that you were as eager for the caressing as I was, my lord."

  He laughed low. "Do you always say exactly what you think, Wynne?"

  "Aye, the truth is best, I have been taught."

  "Are you not curious as to how I came into your chamber, my dearling?" He bent to kiss her shoulder.

  "There are three doors within this chamber, my lord," she told him. "One leads into your reading chamber. One to the necessary. The other, I assume, leads to your sleeping chamber. This is the room of the prince's wife. Logic dictates there would be a way from your chamber to mine."

  "You are quite observant," he noted, his fingers skillfully unlacing her sleeping robe, even as he planted little kisses along the column of her neck.

  "What are you doing?" Her voice sounded high in her own ears, and her heart was beginning to flutter quite rapidly.

  "Does not logic tell you that to caress you properly I must undo your robe?" he teased her.

  "Can you not caress me through the cloth?" she asked him, catching at his hands.

  "I could," he agreed, "but it would not be half as pleasurable for either of us, dearling." He gently pushed her hands away and concluded his task.

  Wynne's sleeping robe fell open from belly to throat. Madoc gently slipped the gown over her shoulders and it slid quickly to the floor, leaving her quite naked. "Ohh," she cried, surprised, for she had not expected him to bare her. It was the first of several shocks, for as he drew her back against him, she realized that he too was without a garment. "Ohhhh!" she said a second time. And "Ohhhhhhh!" a third time, as his hands slipped beneath her small breasts to cup them gently within the palms of his hands.

  "Don't be afraid, sweeting," he murmured, kissing her ear as he spoke and then nibbling on it gently.

  "I'm not," she replied somewhat breathlessly, "I just did not expect this. Not so soon." She drew a deep breath and, releasing it, sighed luxuriously. "I like your hands, my lord."

  He fondled her flesh with a light touch, his thumbs softly teasing at her nipples, which contracted themselves into taut little buds. She murmured her approval, unconsciously pressing herself back against him. Madoc drew a sudden sharp breath, for he found his betrothed wife far more delicious than he knew he should at this point in their relationship. Bending, he kissed the point where her neck and her shoulder met, savoring the sweet, clean fragrance of her.

  Wynne's eyes had closed, seemingly of their own volition, at the onset of his caress. She relaxed, thoroughly enjoying his touch and the delightful feelings engendered by his skillful hands. Her arms lay limp by her sides; her head lay back against his shoulder. It was lovely, and she almost purred, catlike.

  Madoc released one of her breasts, and his hands swirled downward, brushing in circles over the flesh of her torso and belly. Wynne gasped softly and stiffened beneath his touch now. "Nay, dearling," he crooned low, "I'll not hurt you."

  His fingers were sending rather sharp darts of excitement through her veins. "When," Wynne said, her voice slightly shaky, "when, my lord, do I learn to caress y-you?"

  In answer he turned her about so that they were
facing one another, and his mouth swooped down to find hers in a deep, burning kiss. "Now!" he almost groaned against her lips.

  With trembling fingers she ran her hands over his muscular shoulders as he continued to kiss her, softly now, nibbling on her lower lip until, confused, she half whispered, "Stop, I beg you, my lord!"

  He instantly ceased and stood silent.

  Half shyly, half boldly, Wynne slid her hands over his smooth skin. Her touch was like a wave flirting with a beach. It came and then it fled back, unsure, never venturing farther than his waist. Madoc cupped her buttocks in his hands, and Wynne then followed his lead, her small hands fondling him with now daring abandon. "Does it pleasure you, my lord?"

  "Perhaps too much so, dearling," came the answer, and he released his hold on her bottom, sliding his arms about her waist to draw her even closer to him.

  She could feel his male organ pressing against her leg. She had not dared to gaze upon it yet, but it seemed quite hard and very big. Her palms flattened themselves against his smooth chest and she moved them with growing assurance in small circles over his skin. "I should like another kiss, Madoc," she told him, and he most eagerly complied, sending new flashes of heat racing through her body. "Ahhhhh, my lord," she said, "kissing and caressing together gives one even greater pleasure! Is it the same for you?"

  The blood was thundering in his ears. What in the name of all common sense had ever made him think he could do this without wanting to make total love to her? Was he receiving pleasure as she was? Dear God, aye! But it was all he could do to refrain from taking her here and now. He forced himself to answer her. "How could I not receive pleasure from so soft a hand and such sweet lips, Wynne?" Releasing her, he bent and, slipping her sleeping gown back over her delightful little body, laced it with shaking fingers.

  When he had stepped back she had seen his state and, reaching down, she took him in her hand.

  Madoc groaned as if in dire pain.

  Another woman might have drawn away, but she did not. Instead she caressed him gently, saying as she did so, "How strong and mighty is this lance of yours, Madoc of Powys. Why do you cry out? Does my touch hurt you?"

  "I ache to possess you, dearling," he told her. "There is no fault in you."

  "I am not ready yet to give myself totally to you," she replied.

  To which he answered, "I know. I thought I might teach you of pleasure tonight, but I find I cannot touch you, Wynne, without wanting you."

  "I desire you also, Madoc," was the surprising answer, "but again I say I am not quite ready to allow you possession of my body and my soul." She withdrew her curious hand.

  "No one can ever possess another's soul, dearling," he said.

  "Yet there is a meeting of souls when two lovers truly love one another, isn't there, my lord?"

  He nodded slowly, again surprised by her intuitiveness.

  "We have been lovers in another time and another place," Wynne said. "Have we not?"

  "Aye."

  "Tell me, for you know, I am certain of it!" Wynne said.

  "I cannot, dearling. You must remember. It is part of our fate that you do. I can tell you nothing that you do not learn for yourself." He put his arms about her and drew her close.

  There was a scent to him, Wynne realized, as she pressed her cheek against his shoulder. Unable to help herself, she kissed the skin beneath her lips. "Since my earliest memory, I have had a dream, Madoc," she began. "I have never understood this dream, but now I think it may have something to do with us."

  "Tell me," he begged.

  She rubbed her face against him. "There is little to tell. It is always the same and there is no sense to it."

  "Tell me!" His plea was urgent now.

  "I am in mist. There is much sadness. I can feel it all about me. It permeates the very air. I hear a voice calling, and above me a raven soars, crying the word, Remember. Then I awaken weeping. It is always the same."

  "What does the voice say to you, Wynne?" he asked her gently.

  "It calls out a name," she answered him, "but I cannot make out the name, Madoc, try as I will."

  He held her tightly and said, "It is a start."

  "Do you understand my dream?" she asked, drawing away and looking up at him.

  "Aye, I do." His face was sad.

  "But you cannot tell me," Wynne said.

  He shook his head. "You must learn for yourself, dearling."

  "How?" she demanded.

  "I am not certain yet, but perhaps there is a way to unlock your memory, Wynne. Helping you to learn what you must know is not, I believe, like telling you. I must think on it else we find ourselves at an impasse, and that I cannot allow." Their talk had cooled his passions, and he kissed her upon her forehead. "You really must rest, my darling. These last few days have been tiring for you." He picked her up and, carrying her across the chamber, settled her gently in her bed.

  "It is a very large bed," she noted. "Lie by me for a while, Madoc."

  "Nay, my love, for if I do, I will finish what I so foolishly started tonight. You must trust me when I tell you that the time is not yet right." Then before she might protest, he was gone from the room through the door into his own chamber.

  For several minutes Wynne lay silently in the dark. It was so confusing, and yet it was also fascinating. And passion. She smiled to herself. The more she learned of passion, the better she liked it. Madoc's touch had been a revelation. Shyly she touched herself, feeling her nipples grow tight, and yet it wasn't the same. Pleasurable, but not the same. Suddenly she found herself most sleepy. There was so much to see and to learn here at Raven's Rock. She sighed and was asleep.

  In the days that followed, Wynne learned all she needed to know about the functioning of Raven's Rock Castle from Nesta. There were many innovations here that she would have never dreamed of, although she found them most practical. There was no cook house. The kitchens were instead located within the castle itself on a lower level. There was a kitchen garden within the main gardens set comfortably against a castle wall. They grew lettuce, peas, carrots, beets, marrows, and parsnips, Nesta told her, as well as simple kitchen herbs like parsley, rosemary, sage, and thyme. There was a small orchard with apple, peach, and cherry trees.

  The servants were pleasant souls, eager to please her. From the morning after her arrival, she found she was expected to give the cook the menus for the day. He was a large, jolly man who shared his kitchens with his younger brother, who was the castle's baker. When Wynne admitted she was unused to so large a home, both the cook and the baker told her, smiling, that she would soon be used to it all. In the meantime they would help her to cope.

  "You'll have no difficulties," Nesta assured Wynne. "You ran Gwernach quite well. Raven's Rock is only a matter of getting used to the greater number of people to care for, and I will help you."

  "Where does Madoc's wealth come from?" Wynne asked Nesta one day.

  "There are several sources," Nesta said, "for our family has always thought it unwise to put all one's hopes on one thing. The glens below us open out into a large single valley. It is ours. We graze our cattle there. There was a period after my father died that Madoc left Raven's Rock and traveled to Byzantium. Our family has always been involved in trading."

  "But Raven's Rock is not near the sea," Wynne said.

  "It doesn't have to be," Nesta replied. "Here is where the princes of Powys-Wenwynwyn live; but our trading houses are located in the cities along the coast of our own Wales, of England and in Ireland as well. We have factors in the land of the Franks and in cities along an ancient sea that one sails to get to Byzantium; and we have a great trading house in Byzantium itself. Then, too, my brother makes investments in other trading ventures. Caravans that travel to Jerusalem and beyond. It is all quite complicated. I don't really understand half of it, but if you are curious, ask Madoc. He loves to speak on his own cleverness, and will go on for hours if you allow him."

  Wynne laughed. "I do not think that is ki
nd, sister," she said. "I think Madoc must be very clever to be so rich."

  The autumn months waned as the hills grew golden with passing time, finally fading into December. Now the only colors to be seen were the green of the pines and the grays, blacks, and browns of the winter hillsides. The Solstice was upon them, and with it, Nesta and Rhys's wedding.

  Rhys arrived at Raven's Rock as Madoc had instructed him, two days before the marriage was to be celebrated. He came with a party of a hundred men; and accompanied by his cousins, the lords of Coed and Llyn; their wives; the young lord of Gwernach, his grandmother, and his sister. Madoc had sent David the bailiff to Gwernach several weeks after Wynne had come to Raven's Rock. She had interviewed the man and found him to be everything that Madoc had said he was.

  "I realize my brother is young," Wynne had told David, "but unless you are absolutely certain that he is wrong, you must defer to him in all things. He will not learn otherwise, and his pride is great."

  "Not unlike the pride of most men, my lady," David replied, a twinkle in his eyes, and Wynne liked him even more for it.

  With David overseeing Gwernach, Dewi ap Owain was free to come to Raven's Rock to attend Nesta's wedding to Rhys. His eyes widened at the wonders he saw, but as impressed as he was with Raven's Rock, he could not help but say most bluntly, "I still prefer Gwernach."

  "And so you should," Wynne agreed. "It is your home."

  "A fool never changes," Caitlin muttered to her brother. "This place is paradise, and you prefer that dung heap from which we sprang forth? I'd sell my soul to Satan himself to have all this!" And she gestured broadly about the hall with her hand.

  "Are you not content at Coed then?" Wynne questioned her sister.

  “ 'Tis a fair enough place, but much like Gwernach, to be honest with you," Caitlin replied. "I've had more than enough to do to put it in order to suit me, but now that I've gotten the lady Blodwen out of the house, 'twill be easier. There is much I see here that I can adapt to a smaller home, but perhaps I shall just enlarge it instead." She looked thoughtful.

  "What has happened to the lady Blodwen?" Wynne asked, more than curious to learn how Caitlin had rid herself of her mother-in-law.