A Moment in Time

by Bertrice Small

  "Nesta," Wynne said, concerned by her friend's obvious distress, "is he really that bad?" She glanced down the hall to watch as Brys of Cai made his way toward them. He was an extraordinarily handsome young man. No, handsome was not the correct word. He was beautiful. "Surely he has reformed from the days of his youth."

  "He is evil incarnate," Madoc said quietly. "Do not be fooled by his beauty, which is that of the angels, dearling. He will be charm itself to you, but he is wicked beyond mortal men. He is the youngest bishop in Christendom, it is said. He bought the office from a corrupt clergy. He has neither earned it nor does he deserve it." Madoc stood now and waited as his half brother approached the high board.

  "Greetings, my brother, and God be with you," Brys of Cai said. He was the fairest man she had ever seen. Indeed, he might have been one of the Fair Folk of ancient times, Wynne thought. His hair glistened like pure gold, and his pale blue eyes were like a summer sky. Embroidered upon his white silk tunic was a gold and bejeweled Celtic cross.

  "Why have you intruded here?" Madoc said quietly.

  "What, brother? No polite speech of welcome for me?" The young man chuckled. "I had believed the omission of my name from your guest list an accident. Am I to assume 'twas not?"

  "You know it to be so, Brys," Madoc replied coldly. "You are not welcome here. You will never be welcome here again."

  "But here I am, dear brother, and here I intend to stay. I have come to personally perform the marriage ceremony for you and your lovely bride." His eyes turned benignly on Wynne and he smiled. "You do not dare send me away, Madoc. I have checkmated you quite nicely this time."

  "Do not be cruel, Brys! Madoc has never harmed you," Nesta said.

  Brys of Cai turned his eyes to his younger sister. "I came to see you wed last winter, but he would not let me in, Nesta. Did you know that Madoc kept me from your wedding?"

  "I knew!" she said furiously. "I thanked him for it! You bring evil with you, Brys. It clings to your robes like the stink of a cow byre. You did not come to do Madoc and Wynne honor. You came to make trouble. If you are as honest as you claim, then wish them well and go back to Cai! You are not wanted here!"

  "Such passion," Brys of Cai said softly. "I always knew you had passion, sister mine. I will not return to Cai, however, until after the wedding. If it displeases you so, I will not perform the ceremony, Madoc. But I will remain."

  Madoc's look was a black one, but Wynne gently pressed warning fingers into his arm, and he threw her a despairing look of agreement.

  "How politic the blushing bride is," Brys noted. "Are you a peacemaker then, lady?"

  "Nay, my lord bishop I am a realist, however, and I can see you have come to sow discord as Nesta accuses you. Whatever difficulties you three siblings have encountered over the years, I am not a part of it. I will not allow you to spoil my wedding. Swear to me upon that cross you show so ostentatiously upon your chest that you will not ruin this happy time for us."

  "And if I do not swear?" he mocked her. "What will you do, Wynne of Gwernach?"

  "I will give orders to have you escorted from Raven's Rock no matter the scandal," Wynne told him firmly.

  Brys of Cai laughed. "I believe you would, lady," he said. "Very well, I swear upon the Holy Cross upon which our Lord died that I will keep the peace during these festivities, but not a moment thereafter." He chuckled. "My brother, Madoc's marriage is something I never thought to witness. I should not like to miss it."

  "Come join us at the high board then, my lord bishop, and tell me why," Wynne replied, and then turned to Dewi. "Will you give up your place to the bishop of Cai, brother?" The boy nodded, and Wynne instructed a servant, "Bring another chair for the lord of Gwernach."

  Brys of Cai took his place next to Wynne and, having accepted a goblet of wine from another servant, said, "Do you not know of the reputation enjoyed by the princes of Wenwyn-wyn, lady? I would think a virtuous Christian maiden fearful of marrying into such a house."

  "I do not believe in the nonsense mouthed by ignorant fools about Madoc and his family. I have known nothing but kindness from him. Besides, I am considered a healer among the people of Gwernach, and healers are frequently the subject of gossip."

  "Do you speak sorcery, lady?" Brys of Cai purred in dulcet tones. His blue eyes glittered.

  "I speak of herbs and healing, my lord bishop. I speak of medicine."

  "Women should not be healers, lady," was the blunt answer.

  "Why not?" Wynne demanded, the anger in her voice barely restrained.

  "It is not a Christian thing, lady," he said. "Women have been given the task of bearing new life. That and the care of their families should be their sole interest."

  "Does the family of a great lord not include all within his care?" Wynne said sweetly. "Does not care of one's family include ministering to their ills and healing them of sickness?"

  "You are clever for a woman, Wynne of Gwernach," Brys told her. "Perhaps you are too clever. It is never wise to be too clever."

  "Do not threaten me, my lord bishop," Wynne replied in low, even tones. "I do not fear you. I know all about you. Far more than you know about me, I will wager."

  "Knowledge can be a dangerous thing, lady, particularly if you do not possess the power to use it skillfully, and you do not."

  "Not yet," she retorted, and was pleased to see a startled look spring up on his face.

  Quickly recovering his equilibrium, he laughed. "You are a most worthy opponent, Wynne of Gwernach."

  "But how sad that we must be at odds, my lord bishop," she answered.

  "We do not have to be at odds, lady," he told her.

  "As long as you are Madoc's enemy, Brys of Cai, then you are mine as well. I am bound to Madoc by many ties, some of which you cannot even imagine. He is my lord, my life, and my love. I shall never betray him," Wynne said with certitude.

  For the briefest moment a look of unbridled hatred sprang into Brys of Cai's soft blue eyes, and then it was as quickly gone. What startled Wynne most of all was the fact that the hatred had been directed toward her. How could Madoc's brother hate her so? He did not even know her.

  "I am pleased," the young bishop said, and she knew it a lie, "that your loyalty is so firm, Wynne of Gwernach. It shows Christian virtue, and perhaps such virtue will reform my brother of his evil ways."

  "I shall indeed be a good wife in all ways, my lord bishop," Wynne murmured piously in similar tones. "Will you have some roast pig?" she asked, suddenly the good hostess.

  A servant hovered by Brys of Cai's side, a platter offered. With a grin the bishop snatched a well-crisped piece off the dish and sank his teeth into it. Those teeth, Wynne noticed, were his one facial fault. They were slightly yellowed, and the incisors had a feral look about them. He had turned away from her and was speaking with another guest, to her relief. It had been an effort to repel his evil. Nesta was right. Brys of Cai had an evil way about him that was not just a little frightening, although she would not have admitted such a thing to anyone.

  The marriage of Madoc of Powys and Wynne of Gwernach was celebrated the following morning at the early mass. The ceremony was conducted by Father Drew, who had traveled from Gwernach with Wynne's family. The only witnesses were the immediate family, for the chapel at Raven's Rock was small. The sun streamed through the small windows of the chamber, making bright puddles of light upon the stone floor. The candles twinkled golden upon the altar.

  The bride was garbed in a cream-colored satin tunic dress decorated with small pearls that had been sewn in abstract patterns all over the gown. Beneath it she wore an under tunic of the same color, which was embroidered with little golden stars. About her neck were the pearls her mother had left her. Upon her feet were dainty kid slippers. Her single dark braid was woven with pearled ribbons, and her head crowned with a wreath of roses from a bush Madoc had potted the previous autumn and brought to the castle, that he might have roses for Wynne on their wedding day.

  The bridegroom's
full-skirted kirtle was of indigo blue silk brocaded in gold and belted in gilded leather. His scarlet braies were cross-gartered in gold, and he wore pointed red leather shoes upon his feet. His dark hair was clubbed back and secured with a jeweled riband. About his neck was a heavy chain of red Irish gold which matched the jeweled gold diadem he wore about his forehead.

  Nesta and Enid wept happily as the pair were united. Mair, staring at her beautiful sister, dreamed of her own marriage one day. Dewi was frankly bored. Weddings were always dull, and he should have far rather been out hunting. Rhys clapped a comforting arm about his sniffling wife and decided that Madoc could never possibly be as happy with Wynne as he was with his adorable Nesta. Einion wiped a tear from his eye and then glanced surreptitiously about to see if anyone had noticed his lapse into sentiment. Brys of Cai glowered at his half brother and his bride through narrowed eyes and decided that he had never hated Madoc quite so much as he did this minute. Why was it that Madoc got everything that he had ever wanted? Raven's Rock Castle; a beautiful, loving bride. Why was Madoc the favored one and not he? It would not end until one of them was dead, Brys decided. Dead and buried deep.

  The wedding celebration lasted the entire day long and into the night. The wedding party entered the hall that morning after the ceremony to be greeted by the friendly cheers of all their guests. The hearths in the Great Hall burned bright and high, taking the chill of the May morning away. The hall itself was decorated in flowering branches of hawthorn and Maybud. There were flowers everywhere, and the servants raced to and fro carrying platters of food to the diners before it chilled.

  Eggs, poached and served in a sauce of cream and sweet wines. Eggs, hard-boiled and sliced into a mixture of cheese and new peas. Eggs, hard-boiled and served cold with sea salt. There was ham, and roe deer, and salmon. Trenchers of hot barley cereal. Cottage loaves newly baked and fresh from the oven. Honeycombs and sweet butter. Wheels of Gwernach's Gold from the bride's own home. Everyone ate heartily, for the first entertainment of the day was to be a hunt in the forests surrounding Raven's Rock.

  Wynne ate swiftly and then hurried to her apartments, where Megan waited to help her exchange her wedding gown for more suitable clothing for the hunt. In her garments of green and gold, the bride was selected to be the May queen that day. They spent the morning hunting amid the forested hills surrounding Raven's Rock, although their luck was not particularly good. At the noon hour the wedding party and their guests entered a clearing where a picnic had been laid out by the castle's servants. It was simple fare. Capon and small meat pies. Bread and several varieties of cheese. Tartlets of dried fruits. Bowls of tiny new strawberries and fresh, thick cream. There was ale and wine to slack the guests' thirst. After their picnic they returned to Raven's Rock, where archery butts had been set up in the gardens for their sport. A maypole had been erected as well, and Wynne led a number of ladies in the traditional May dance, moving with sprightly steps to the piper's tune as they danced about the pole, weaving their brightly colored ribbons of red, green, blue, and yellow until the pole was completely decorated. Some of the men stripped down and held a contest of wrestling skills.

  There was an hour that followed when everyone returned to their chambers to rest and dress for the evening's banquet. As the sun sank with an orange-gold glow that stained the huge room with a barbaric light, the Great Hall at Raven's Rock began to fill once more with the wedding guests, refreshed by their brief hour and hungry again.

  "How long has it been since these people have eaten, Madoc?" Wynne grumbled. "It is a good thing that they are going back to their own homes tomorrow, else they deplete our stores entirely." She had removed her hunting garb and was once again attired in her wedding gown.

  Madoc, who had also changed back into his wedding finery, chuckled. "It is a testimony to your prowess as a hostess, my beautiful wife," and he kissed her on the cheek.

  "It is a testimony to their appetites," she replied, but she smiled as she took her place at the high board with her husband.

  Wynne had planned a wonderful final banquet for the wedding guests, and judging by the enthusiasm of her guests as each dish was offered, she had done very well indeed. A dozen barrels of oysters packed in ice and seawater had been transported from the coast for the meal. They were quickly set upon and devoured. Four sides of beef packed in rock salt had been roasted to a turn and were now being carved and placed upon platters. There was a whole ox and two roe deer, as well as several hams, geese, larks, capons stuffed with dried fruit, fat ducks dripping their juices; an enormous roast boar, several large partridge pies with flaky golden crusts, the steam rising from the pastry vents rich with the scent of red wine and herbs; and a cauldron of rabbit stew flavored with carrots and shallots. There were a dozen legs of baby lamb rubbed with garlic and rosemary.

  There was trout broiled in butter, lemon, and dill; salmon steamed in seawater and sprinkled with parsley; flaked cod prepared in a sauce of cream and sweet wines; prawns and mussels boiled with fennel. New lettuce had been steamed with white wine. There were bowls of tiny green peas and little boiled beets. There was fine white bread in abundance, sweet butter, soft Brie from Normandy, and several wheels of Gwer-nach's Gold. There were beer and ale, and wines both red and white.

  A cake had been baked and decorated with little figures and fruits of marzipan. There were several large tarts made of dried fruits and precious spices. Both violets and rosebuds had been candied and were served with tiny sugared wafers. There were bowls of small strawberries, although Wynne could not imagine where they had been found after the generous serving of the little fruits offered earlier in the day at their picnic.

  The Irish minstrels entertained them with wonderful ballads of love and songs of manly feats. There were morris dancers, and a funny little bit of a wizened man with a troupe of dogs that danced and jumped through hoops on their master's command. The guests ate until there was no more food, and drank until they could hold no more. Madoc and Wynne quietly excused themselves, for no one could leave until they did, and Wynne could see that both her grandmother and Nesta were weary. As for little Mair, she had fallen asleep in her chair, and Dewi, for all his bluster, was nodding off as well. Einion gathered up both children and took them from the hall.

  Megan undressed her mistress and was dismissed. Wynne sat upon her bed brushing her long hair with slow even strokes as Madoc entered the chamber. Turning, she looked up and smiled at him. " 'Twas a fine day, my lord, but I am happy to have it over and done with."

  He took her brush from her and, kneeling down, began to stroke her hair with it. "My wife," he said softly. "My beautiful wife. God, dearling! I cannot believe you are really mine!" He buried his face in dark scented hair and inhaled its subtle fragrance.

  A lovely shiver ran up her spine, and Wynne twisted about to face her husband. Taking his face in her hands, she touched his lips with hers. "Aye," she murmured against his mouth. "I am yours, Madoc, but then so too are you mine, and I love you." Her lips softened and she kissed him passionately, her tongue swirling about his mouth, teasing and taunting his own tongue to do battle. Her hands left his face and tangled themselves in his own thick, dark hair. The hairbrush dropped from his hand, clattering to the floor.

  Madoc pushed his face into the hollow between her sweet young breasts. He felt the steady beat of her heart beneath his lips as he pressed kisses on her soft skin. His hands, sliding beneath the mantle of her hair, moved down until they were encircling her small waist. Wynne arched her body, and Madoc's mouth found the sentient little nipple of a breast. Slowly he suckled on the tender flesh, drawing forth the sweetness first from one nipple and then the other until she began to moan softly in his embrace.

  His tongue tormented her sensitive nipples, flicking swiftly back and forth as she threaded her fingers through his hair with growing urgency. His lips moved away from her now-swollen breasts and down her taut torso. Wynne shivered again, and her smooth skin was instantly embellished with a tapestry of
tiny prickles. She squirmed and a small giggle escaped her.

  "That tickles, Madoc!" she protested. She was beginning to feel hot with her desire for him.

  "And we both know how ticklish you are," he responded, looking at her with a deceptively bland stare.

  He reached for her, but Wynne was quicker and scrambled across their great bed. "Hah, my lord!" she mocked him. "You must be faster than that to catch me!"

  He dove at her, and she squealed in sham terror as he grabbed out to imprison her. Together they rolled about their marriage bed like two young puppies, his fingers tickling her and her fingers tickling him. Finally weak with laughter, Madoc and Wynne collapsed side by side, wheezing and gasping for breath. When at last she felt the strength returning into her limbs, Wynne took the initiative, surprising Madoc by straddling him. Giving him a seductive smile, she tightened her thighs about his torso. Reaching up, she began to fondle her breasts, her tongue running swiftly over her lips. She looked down, sloe-eyed, into his face.

  "Do you want me as much as I want you?" she demanded.

  "Aye," he drawled softly and slowly, a single finger reaching up to trail down the valley between her breasts, down her belly, to worm its way between her nether lips. For a moment his finger rested atop her little love jewel, which he had found with unerring aim. Then he began to rub it with gentle insistence. "I want you very, very much, my beautiful bride."

  A shudder ran through Wynne as he brought her to her first pleasure, and weakness coursed through her veins like hot wine. She wanted so to control the situation, she thought, but she had not yet learned how. All she desired right now was to have him take her, and she sighed gustily.

  He smiled up at her and then, with deliberately languid movements, he began to smooth the palms of his hands up her body from her belly to her breasts. His hands moved in gentle little circles, caressing her lightly, stroking the fires of her desire. "You are so fair," he told her, and he fondled her breasts, squeezing them delicately, as with half-closed eyes she began to make whimpering noises in the back of her throat; her hips moving against him in jerking little motions.