Bhrodi listened closely. “And he went to Dolbadarn?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“Who holds that garrison?”
“I am not certain, my lord.”
Bhrodi was silent a moment, pondering. His mind worked very quickly and he already had a thousand questions and a thousand solutions. But he needed more information.
“Where is the messenger?” he asked.
“In the gatehouse,” Ianto replied.
Bhrodi’s gaze moved to the massive gatehouse, silhouetted against the full moon. “Bring him to me,” he instructed. “Make sure he speaks to no one else. I will question him personally.”
Ianto nodded and went along his way. Bhrodi remained at the top of the keep steps, thinking many things at that moment. He realized his first instinct was to support Dafydd and give the man what he needed, but upon the heels of that thought came another, more prevalent thought – he was now married to an English woman and he had a peace accord with Edward.
But peace went both ways; Edward was obviously continuing his attempts to conquer Wales if Dafydd was now on the run. The situation had been quiet as of late, which had given him hope that perhaps Edward was backing off, but he could see it had been a foolish hope. All of northern Wales was compromised except for Anglesey. Here, there was still some peace, but that wouldn’t last long, Bhrodi knew. He knew Edward would eventually come for him, treaty or no. Penelope had known it too, as she had indicated before they were even married. Bhrodi had hoped to have more time before he had to deal with that but it looked as if he had no time at all. Dafydd was about to be crushed and once he was out of the way, Bhrodi would be the next target.
With heavy thoughts of warfare on his mind, Bhrodi met the messenger from Dafydd on the steps of Rhydilian. The messenger was very young and Bhrodi recognized him as one of Dafydd’s illegitimate sons. The man had many of them. The lad was still a youth, perhaps not quite twenty years of age, very thin and exhausted. The young man acknowledged Bhrodi respectfully.
“Fy arglwydd de Shera,” he greeted. “Rwy’n diolch i Dduw fy mod wedi eich cyrraedd.”
I thank God I have reached you. Bhrodi spoke Welsh to the lad. “And so you have,” he said. “Where is Dafydd?”
“At Dolbadarn, my lord,” the lad replied. “Baedden ap Ceron is the garrison commander and is providing for Lord Dafydd, but he is very short on men and requires your assistance. He asks you to send him no less than five thousand men. Can you do this, my lord?”
Bhrodi didn’t outwardly react to the enormous amount of men requested, but he was shocked by it. “Why so many men?”
The boy swallowed hard. “Because Edward closes in on him, my lord,” he replied. “It is thought that Edward has ten thousand men surging north through Wales, destroying everything to get to Dafydd. They come for him, my lord, and Dafydd has asked for your help.”
Ten thousand men. If that was true, then things were worse than Bhrodi could have imagined. All he could feel at the moment was a great sense of foreboding. Once Edward was finished razing Dolbadarn, there would be little between the castle and Anglesey. Edward would soon be on his doorstep.
Bhrodi had two choices; he could fight for Wales and hopefully keep Anglesey free of English rule, or he could refuse to help Dafydd and embrace the English when they came to his lands. But he knew very well he couldn’t welcome them; he was Welsh and fighting was in his blood. This was his land, and his people, and so long as Edward left them alone, Bhrodi wasn’t going to start any wars. But Edward was acting with great aggression towards the Welsh, trying to force them into submission. That being the case, Bhrodi would defend what was his. He would not go down without a fight.
“When does he need them?” he finally asked the lad.
The boy wiped at his exhausted eyes. “As soon as possible, my lord,” he said. “Dafydd had just arrived at Dolbadarn when he sent me to find you, and it took me almost four days. He fears the English are not far off.”
“He wants us to go to Dolbadarn?”
“Aye, my lord.”
“What of his other strongholds in Snowdonia? We are not to go there?”
“Nay, my lord. He asked for you to go to the castle.”
Bhrodi digested the information; he wasn’t entirely sure about going to a castle that the English were closing in on because that might leave them vulnerable should they run into the English on open ground. But he agreed.
“Very well,” he said. “I have a meeting with my chieftains tomorrow morning and I will consult with them. For tonight, you will rest and eat, and you will tell no one what you told me. Is that clear?”
The boy nodded firmly. “Aye, my lord.”
With that, Bhrodi flicked a hand at Ianto, indicating for the man to take the young messenger away. As they headed off back towards the gatehouse, Bhrodi turned for the keep. His mind was on the news he had been given and the situation in general as he entered, hearing the distant voices in the feasting hall, realizing that he was going to have to tell Penelope what had happened. She was a warrior, after all; she would understand the path of their present and the course of the future. She was as involved in it as he was and he came to wonder what her reaction would be. Would she staunchly defend the English? Or would she submit to her husband’s will in all things? He wondered.
It would be a pivotal moment for them both.
*
Penelope had remained in the hall well after the evening meal was concluded, waiting for Bhrodi to return. She sat in small talk with Thomas and Kevin, and even Tacey when the girl stopped eating long enough to speak. Ivor, Gwyllim, and Yestin also politely conversed with her and even the English knights when the conversation called for it. When the teulu commanders did speak, Penelope found herself studying them simply because she was curious about them. They were always nearby, but always silent, like shadows. She didn’t know them at all, yet she lived in the same keep with them.
Ivor was a tall, handsome man with dark hair who seemed to do most of the talking for all three. He also had a habit of scratching his face repeatedly, which Penelope thought was rather humorous. Gwyllim was older, quieter, and seem to be watching the situation much as she was. Yestin, oddly enough, came across as very arrogant when he did open his mouth, as if he was bored with the entire conversation. It didn’t matter who he was talking to; Welsh, English, man or woman. Everyone seemed to bore him.
As the evening dragged on and the food was cleared away, Tacey somehow convinced Thomas to play a board game with her. She ran all the way up to her chamber to get it, bringing it down and setting it upon the table between them. It was called Fox and Geese, and a hand-painted wooded path encircled the game board with the game pieces being small carved wooden foxes or geese.
The object was to roll three sticks, which had hash marks on the front and back of them, and based upon the number of hash marks that landed face–up, that was the number of spaces on the path a player moved. Tacey wanted to be the fox so Thomas had to be the geese, which amused Kevin to no end. When Tacey’s fox beat Thomas’ geese, she was the one who dictated the punishment to the loser. Therefore, Thomas had to sit with a kerchief over his head while they played another round.
Tacey was very good at the game; given that she’d spent so much time alone, she’d had little else to do but practice games or other pastimes. Thomas was beaten three times before he turned the game over to Kevin, who was able to beat the unhappy Tacey on the first try. In punishment for losing, he made her hold a spoon between her upper lip and nose, scrunching her face up to keep it there, while they played another round.
Penelope thought it was all great fun and she was pleased to see everyone getting along well enough. Kevin, having three sisters of his own, was rather antagonistic in a brotherly sort of way with Tacey, making her screech and giggle in frustration. It reminded Penelope of her days at Castle Questing when she had a whole host of brothers and cousins to tease her. She tried not to sink into depression again over the though
t of her missing family; instead, she just tried to remember the fun of it all. It was a struggle.
Eventually, the three teulu commanders bid everyone a good eve and left the hall, and Penelope was growing rather anxious about Bhrodi’s absence. When one of the old serving women came to take Tacey to bed, collecting the girl’s game and scolding her gently when she resisted, Penelope followed the pair upstairs and ended up in the master’s chamber, alone.
A fire was burning in the hearth and the room was warm and fragrant with rushes thanks to the diligent serving women. Penelope went to her trunks, stacked neatly against the eastern wall, and began to remove her clothing. She was trying to dress very simply these days, as complicated fashions intimidated her, so it was a matter of pulling off her gown and shift, and donning a warm sleeping shift. With that, she was finished.
Prepared for bed, she thought perhaps to wait for her husband, realizing she very much wanted to see him before she went to sleep. The nights between them since their wedding had been uneventful for the most part. There had been so much going on that twice already, Bhrodi hadn’t come to bed at all and she had slept alone in the big, fluffy bed. On those nights that they had gone to bed at the same time, she was ashamed to admit she’d fallen asleep quickly. Rather than wake her, Bhrodi had let her sleep. He must have realized what a big change all of this was to her and she had been understandably exhausted. He had played the patient bridegroom.
But not tonight; Penelope was determined to stay awake for him. That brief taste of coupling she had received on their wedding night had been enough to stoke her curiosity about it. She could still feel the man’s touch and she clearly remembered how he had made her feel. It was all she could think about. She wondered if he had given it as much thought as she had. As she sat on the bed, brushing her hair with the big horsehair brush her mother had given her, the latch on the chamber door shifted and the panel opened quietly.
Bhrodi entered the room, shutting the door softly behind him and bolting it. When he turned to see Penelope sitting on the bed, brushing her luscious dark hair and looking at him rather anxiously, he smiled faintly.
“So you are awake, are you?” he said. “I half-expected to come in here and find you on the floor, having fallen asleep before you were even able to reach the bed. You seem to fall asleep rather swiftly.”
Penelope giggled. “I do not usually,” she said. “I suppose I have simply been overly weary as of late. Wearing women’s clothing and being kept away from my charger has sapped all of my strength.”
His grin broadened as he approached the bed and began untying his tunic. “You poor child,” he clucked sadly. “Forced away from your beloved armor and snapping destrier. How will you survive?”
She lifted her eyebrows optimistically. “I am not entirely sure, but I am hoping my husband might be kind and generous enough to at least let me do a little of what I’d like to do.”
He pulled the tunic over his head, revealing his muscular chest. As he tossed the tunic aside, he nodded thoughtfully to her statement. “And what is it you would like to do?”
Penelope was distracted by the sight of all that naked flesh and struggled to stay on subject. “I would like to get my broadsword back from the beast of the marsh,” she said. “And I would like to tend my charger and ride him daily. Is that too much to ask?”
He sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at her radiant beauty in the soft firelight. For a moment, he just stared at her, thinking she was the most glorious creature he had ever seen. He’d felt emotion for a woman before, for his first wife, but with Sian the emotions were more like the soft harvest moon. It was radiant and pure and comforting. But with Penelope, he felt such depth of emotion that it was like the blinding sun. It was everywhere, and all about him. He was still trying to grasp it all but wasn’t entirely sure he ever really would. At the moment, what he felt for her was purely physical although he was quite fond of the woman he was coming to know. He was positive that once he came to know her better, and more thoroughly, everything he felt about her would consume him and he was glad for it.
“Would that truly make you happy?” he asked softly.
She nodded firmly. “It would,” she said, lowering the hair brush. “Bhrodi, I know you want a fine and beautiful wife, and I am more than willing to try, but… but I was happy the way I was, riding chargers and wearing armor. I have been doing it such a long time that, much like you, it is a part of me. Now I find myself being expected to become a fine lady and… and it is just so difficult for me.”
He smiled, reaching out to stroke her tender cheek. “I do not want you to be unhappy,” he said. “I suppose there are things we could compromise on.”
She was seized with hope. “Like what?”
He shrugged. “Like your wearing armor,” he said. “No one around here wears armor except me or my teulu when we head into battle. It is not such a part of us as it is with the Saesneg warriors. It would make me very unhappy to see my beautiful wife in ugly and manly mail. However, if it makes you happy, you may wear it when you tend or ride your charger, and only if you are not heading into town or going someplace where many people would see you. They simply wouldn’t understand, Penny. I hope you can comprehend that.”
It was a fair enough compromise and she nodded. “I promise I will not wear it when I am around you, or to meals,” she said. “But what about my broadsword?”
He sighed and stood up from the bed, eyeing her as he began to unfasten his breeches. “It really means that much to you?”
She nodded eagerly. “It does.”
He looked down at his breeches as he untied them. “Then I will have one commissioned for you,” he said. “There is no use in going back to the marshes to look for it. It now belongs to the beast and is long buried in the muck.”
Penelope nodded sadly, hanging her head. “My father gave it to me,” she said. “It has the de Wolfe name on the hilt and it is set with amethysts because my mother loves the purple color.”
Bhrodi glanced at her as he sat back down on the bed, untying his boots so he could slide his breeches and boots off in one smooth motion. Then he stood up, gloriously naked, and moved to the hearth to stoke it. The night promised to grow cold.
“If it pleases you, you may design your sword,” he said. “I will take you to Chester to commission your sword because God only knows the Welsh cannot make a proper broadsword. If you want it done correctly, then we will need to go to England to do it.”
Penelope’s head came up, smiling, until she realized he was without a stitch of clothing on. Startled, she quickly turned away and her cheeks flushed madly. She could hear him poking around by the fire until, satisfied, she heard his joints pop as he rose from his crouched position and moved back to the bed. The bed gave a great deal as he crawled beneath the coverlet and suddenly, a hand was reaching out to grasp her.
Penelope ended up with her head in Bhrodi’s lap, gazing up into his handsome face. He smiled gently at her.
“You and I have not had much time together as man and wife,” he said. “I plan to remedy that tonight, but first, I must speak with you on matters of importance.”
“Of course,” Penelope agreed. “What is it?”
Bhrodi gazed down at her perfect face with its dusting of freckles across the nose and the big, wide hazel eyes that were so sharp and intelligent. Reaching down, he brushed a stray lock of dark hair off her cheek. All the while, he was formulating his thoughts, thinking on how he would phrase what was to come. Things were changing in their very new world and she needed to know.
“I received a messenger tonight from Dafydd ap Gruffydd,” he said quietly. “It would seem that the English have captured Castell y Bere and Dafydd barely escaped with his life. He has asked me to help defend his cause against Edward, who seems to be plowing through the north of Wales in search of the last Welsh prince.”
Penelope’s gaze was serious. After a moment, she sat up so she could look him in the eye, more on his le
vel. Her features were full of concern.
“Where is Dafydd now?” she asked.
There had been a time, very early in their relationship, when he would not have told her what he knew. But he was coming to trust her and saw no harm in telling her the truth.
“Dolbadarn Castle,” he replied. “It is very close to here in mainland Wales. A man on a swift horse can make it there in a couple of hours providing the ferry moves swiftly across the straits.”
Penelope thought on that. “And Edward is heading for Dolbadarn?”
Bhrodi reached out and grasped her hand, bringing it to his lips. “We are not for certain of that yet,” he said, his lips against her flesh. “But one thing is for certain; the man has staked his claim in Wales. He already has castles in Caernarfon, Rhuddlan, and Conwy. Now he is making a massive push to capture and destroy Dafydd once and for all, and when he is finished with Dafydd, it is my sense he will come for me as the last royal blood in Wales. He never wanted peace with me; he simply wanted my submission. I stand between Edward and complete domination of my country.”
Penelope was having a difficult time breathing as his lips gently kissed her fingers. It was an effort to focus on what he was saying.
“I told you this before you married me,” she whispered, watching his mouth nibble on her flesh. “I told you that Edward was bribing you with an English bride. He will expect your complete loyalty now that you have taken The Wolfe’s daughter as your wife.”
Bhrodi turned her hand over and began depositing sweet, warm kisses on her wrist. “And I told you I liked the bribe,” he said. “I will be truthful with you; I agreed to a peace alliance by marrying you so long as Edward remained peaceful as well. Did you know that it was part of the bargain? Edward swore he would remain peaceful in northern Wales if I agreed to this marriage. I knew better, however; I knew he would not. He was already well-entrenched here with his massive castles and I knew he would never stop his aggression.”
Penelope was looking at him with some shock. “Yet you still agreed to the terms?”
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 301
