by Leigh Bale
Climbing through the mountains, Jenkin had them stay within the stands of trees, to shelter them from prying eyes. They wished not to reveal themselves to enemies.
The sun gleamed bright in the eastern sky. Drafts of golden light filtered through the forest. The cloying heat of Ariana’s cloak weighted her down and she removed it, draping it in front of her over the saddle. She didn’t begrudge the warmth. It could be raining instead, which would make their travels more miserable.
Neither Jenkin nor Wulfgar spoke to her. Both men kept their distance, avoiding company. When she looked up, Ariana always found one of them watching her. Their heavy stares felt like leaden weights. Gnawing on her lower lip, she tried to ignore them both.
The men constructed a litter made of tree limbs and animal hides to move Gaston. The litter had been strapped to Ariana’s horse, and she looked back to see that he was well. As she predicted, Gaston had a fever but he was lucid and Ariana thought him out of danger. The flesh of his wound was red and hot to the touch but she thought it would heal well enough. Likewise, Cwrig’s wound was also healing.
By the time they arrived at their destination, Ariana was ready to collapse with exhaustion. From her high vantage point, she looked down on Elan Valley. Rugged mountains surrounded the gorge. In the center rested Lake Elan, a lovely centerpiece for the lavish beauty of the moors, oakwoods, and abundant wildlife.
When she heard the shout of welcome from the lookouts, she almost cried with joy. They could rest now and eat a hot meal. She could find solace away from the penetrating looks of Wulfgar and Jenkin. Being with her people would restore her spirits.
Wood smoke rose from the dense foliage of the forest where campfires burned. They were not visible from this vantage point, but Ariana knew tents and shelters were secluded back within the privacy of the trees where her people rested and waited.
“Your father chose his hiding place wisely,” Wulfgar spoke beside her. “We’re close to Radnor Forest and no more than a day’s ride from Glyndwr.”
Elation filled his voice. His eyes sparkled with delight and she could tell from the satisfied smile on his handsome face that he was excited by the prospect. She couldn’t blame him. It’d been some time since last he’d seen his home and he must miss it terribly.
Turning, she descended into the valley. The air filled with the low thrum of bullhorns being blown to herald their arrival. People came out of the forest to see who the newcomers were. The Welsh called happy greetings and came running toward her.
“Princess,” one woman cried. “We thought you dead and came here to join those who had fled Trallwm.”
“Oh, princess,” another said. “I’m so glad that you’re okay.”
Some of them sobbed, with relief or joy, Ariana couldn’t tell. They bowed before her, then rose to pat and caress her lovingly. Several embraced her openly as they told her in tearful tones about the raid at Aberystwyth. Ariana couldn’t stop the flow of tears as she listened to their sad story. They’d suffered so much.
* * *
Wulfgar watched Ariana’s reunion with detached interest. He noted how her people clung to their princess, recounting for her all the horror of Edwin’s army as they walked with her to the main camp. Trust filled their eyes as they looked to her for wisdom and guidance. Such an awesome responsibility for such a small woman.
The people stared at Wulfgar and the other Normans with curiosity. They noticed the slave collar around Wulfgar’s neck. Little children stared at him with open mouths and gave him wide berth. Since the Normans had come in with Princess Ariana, the people didn’t question their presence. Obviously they didn’t realize who he was. Wulgar stilled his nerves, not knowing what his reception might be once the Welsh discovered they were Normans.
At the main camp, a large fire burned cheerily. People sat around it. Lean from hunger, their shattered looks told the misery they had endured.
Sympathy melted Wulfgar’s heart. He vowed silently to do something for them once he was again Lord of Glyndwr.
“Where is King Rhys?” Wulfgar asked Evan, who stood close beside him. “Why hasn’t he come to greet his daughter?”
Evan shifted his feet and ignored the question. Instead, he took that moment to greet his kinfolk.
Raulf came to stand beside Wulfgar and asked the same question. “Have you seen the king, yet?”
“No,” Wulfgar replied.
“Don’t you think that’s odd?”
Wulfgar’s gaze remained on Ariana and he thought her quite lovely as she spoke to her people. “Something’s wrong.”
“What do you intend to do about it?” Raulf asked.
Wulfgar folded his arms. “As soon as I’m able, I’ll ask Ariana where her father is. I think it’s time we met.”
As the throng cheered their princess, she was carried away and he didn’t have a chance to speak with her. Wulfgar and his men were swept up in a joyous celebration. Though the portions were small, there was a feast and they dined on wild boar, venison, and roast rabbit.
Wulfgar ate only enough to slake his hunger. There were others who were worse off than him and he wouldn’t take food from a child.
Setting his ale aside, he clapped his hands in rhythm to the beat of the drum and flutes. He was watching a particularly comely Welsh girl dance when Jenkin approached. Accompanied by a broad-shouldered man with burly biceps, Jenkin carried a pile of clean clothing and a cake of lye soap. With barely a nod, Jenkin thrust the bundle at Wulfgar. “The princess sent these for you. They belonged to her father and, since he was tall and large, she thought they’d fit your frame. John is a smithy and will remove the slave collar from your neck. The princess has ordered it.”
“Where is King Rhys? I wish to speak with him,” Wulfgar said.
Without response, Jenkin turned and walked away. Wulfgar stared after him, feeling angry by his rude silence.
Wulfgar held perfectly still while John removed the pins from the collar and tossed it aside. Breathing with relief, Wulfgar rubbed his neck where the metal had chafed his skin. With his sharp knife in hand, he headed for the lake, intent upon shaving his beard. His questions would have to wait.
* * *
Ariana dipped her bare toes into the water of Lake Elan. Sitting on the embankment, she closed her eyes and relaxed. It was dark and she was sheltered from view by the thick willows and sedges growing around the pool of water. She had scrubbed her hair earlier and fanned it out about her shoulders, threading the damp curls through her fingers.
Memories haunted her. She’d learned to swim here when she was no more than four years old. John, her eldest brother, had taught her. Now he was dead, and also her other brothers. How she missed Hugh’s boisterous laugh, Llwyd’s teasing smile, and Edmund’s shrewd outlook on life.
Thinking of her brothers stole her moment of solace and she opened her eyes, looking up at the twinkling stars above. The singing and laughter of her people reached her ears. How she loved them all. The burden she carried for their welfare rested heavily on her shoulders. They’d been through so much. No longer could they return to their homes without fear of being hunted and killed by the Normans. Nor did they dare retaliate for fear Edwin might harm Dafydd. Until the boy was returned, the Welsh were in a precarious predicament. They must return home soon or there would be no crops to harvest for the cold winter ahead. They’d starve. Ariana couldn’t bear the thought of hearing the hungry cries of their little children.
Loath to leave her private world before she must, she stood, planning to seek out Jenkin to make plans for the morrow. Her toes dug into the soft mud of the lake bottom. She rinsed each foot, dried it with a linen towel, then pulled on her socks and shoes. Standing, she stopped short.
Wulfgar! He stood before her in the shadows, his hair cut short in the Norman style, his beard shaved from his lean cheeks.
An aura of danger surrounded him. He looked beguiling and terrifying at the same time. He stared at her and she was mesmerized, unable to move. He w
alked to her, dressed in her father’s clothes. They fit his muscular shoulders to perfection.
“You shaved your beard and cut your hair.” She reached up and touched his smooth face, then threaded her fingers through his shorn hair.
“I shaved it for you, cherie,” he cajoled in his soft accent.
He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hand. Warmth tingled up her arm and she shuddered. His strong fingers curled around hers, pulling her near. She stared up at him, thinking him more handsome than any man she’d ever seen. But he was also dangerous and could be her destruction. She should leave. Right now.
She moved closer. “I should return to camp.”
“There’s no hurry. You know I would never hurt you.” He lowered his head and kissed her. Softly at first, then becoming more insistent.
Ariana gasped for breath, her arms wrapped tightly around his back. Heaven help her, she hungered for him. And that knowledge was like a splash of cold water to her face.
She jerked back and held out a hand to keep some distance between them. “My father would not approve.”
The brief flash of his smile seemed overly bright in the dark night as he spoke in a husky whisper. “Nor would mine. But seeing you here in the moonlight, it’s difficult to resist your beauty.”
His compliment pleased Ariana. She felt a strange stirring within her to know what manner of man had sired Wulfgar. How horrible Wulfgar’s punishment must have been for his family. His poor mother. The woman must be half-crazed with worry.
“Did your men give you news of your mother?” she asked.
She crossed her arms, to keep from reaching out and touching him again.
“They don’t know anything. I only hope she’s alive and someone has seen to her care. My father is dead. Otherwise, it would have killed him when William sentenced me to slavery.” He shrugged and his gaze lowered to her lips.
How sad. Ariana almost cried for him. Having known Wulfgar only a short time, she’d learned enough to believe his concern for his mother was genuine.
“You have no one else?”
His gaze swept her as he lifted a hand and caressed her cheek. “Just you.”
Ariana’s heart lurched. What could she say? She didn’t want to love him. Yet, he depended on her. He needed her as she needed him.
She stepped away, feeling shy. A shiver trembled over her. “You once had a brother.”
“And he was my great friend.” Wulfgar’s mouth quirked up in a boyish grin, then dropped away to be replaced by a studious frown. “He died some years ago, fighting in Normandy against the French. Always my family has fought for William’s cause. Always we have been loyal to him. Never would I betray him.”
There was such vehemence in his voice that Ariana found herself believing what he said. But if he hadn’t betrayed his king, why had William sent him away? Surely King William would have been able to discover the truth.
“I’m sorry.” Her love blinded her. She mustn’t let her heart rule her mind. She ran an idle finger over the soft linen of her sleeve, thinking she should leave, yet wanting to stay.
Inclining his head, Wulfgar breathed a great sigh. “There’s also Raulf and my other men. Raulf is loyal to me in every way and we are as close as brothers. No matter what others might say or what evidence there is against me, he has always stood beside me.”
Her heart squeezed. Despite her better judgment, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for Wulfgar’s plight. How lonely and forlorn he must have been to lose everything and be sent into bondage. He had no one now, except Raulf and his rag-tag band of Norman outlaws. But her own people had their own plight and she must serve them first.
“I wish to return to camp, now.” Her gaze shifted to the lights of the fire.
He stepped aside to let her pass. He wore soft leather shoes and had his long knife sheathed at his waist. Though he was dressed as a peasant, the way he carried himself gave no doubt he was a man to be reckoned with.
He accompanied her as she lingered along the narrow path.
“Lake Elan reminds me of the lake on Callum’s island,” she told him with a smile.
He chuckled. “Yes, it was an adventure.”
She laughed, remembering their island with fondness. “Someday, I’d like to return with gifts for Callum, Gara and their babe.”
“And I’d like to accompany you. I haven’t seen your father, yet. Where is he?” Wulfgar asked.
Ariana’s breath caught in her throat. Without a word, she continued toward camp. Wulfgar clasped her arm, turning her to face him.
Tremors of pain tore at her heart. The thrum of crickets and croaking frogs sounded in her ears along with the pounding of blood at her temples.
“Let me go.” She jerked her arm from his grasp.
His head tilted to one side and his brows lowered in a thoughtful frown. His gaze never wavered from hers and Ariana blinked at the intense candor in his eyes.
“Where is King Rhys? Why can’t I speak with him?”
Ariana’s jaw clenched and she tried to move away.
“Ariana!”
She halted, her back to him. Her shoulders trembled as tears clogged her throat. “My father is dead.”
“Dead?”
“Yes, my entire family has been killed at the hands of Normans.” She grit the words out in a harsh tone.
“Did he die at Aberystwyth? Your men said the king wasn’t there.”
Shaking her head, Ariana choked back an anguished sob. Her soul was wracked with sorrow as she began to speak in a hollow whisper. “It was a hard winter for my people. Edwin burned our crops and killed our sheep. He ordered that our homes be burned. My father’s manor house at Trallwm was destroyed. Powys Castle was burned to the ground. We were driven to and fro by Edwin’s mercenaries, never knowing when the Normans might descend upon us. Cruel barbarians, bent on destruction and horror. They delight in killing and think nothing of mercy.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath and wrapped her arms about herself. “My people were starving. They were wracked with sickness. The children were freezing. They cried with hunger and I could hardly stand to watch them suffer. My father was hunting for meat with Jenkin and the others in Radnor Forest when Edwin’s men attacked. My father was cut down and died later that night in my arms. Shortly afterward, I was away, seeking help for my people, when Edwin raided our camp and took Dafydd hostage. It was me Edwin was after, but since I was gone, he took my small brother instead. Now he demands a ransom we can never pay.”
She finished speaking and quaked with the horrid memories.
Wulfgar stood silent for several moments, his eyes piercing as he mulled this information over in his mind. “Edwin doesn’t know King Rhys is dead?”
With a shake of her head, Ariana clenched her eyes closed. “And he mustn’t find out. So far, we’ve kept the secret from him. But I fear one of my people may go to Edwin and speak the tale in exchange for food.”
Wulfgar tensed, breathing slowly. “If Edwin knows Rhys is dead, he’ll kill Dafydd immediately.”
Tears squeezed from beneath her lashes. “Yes.”
Her voice cracked and so did his heart. Wulfgar understood now. With the king and his sons all dead, it’d be easy for Edwin to take Powys. The Welsh were too weak to stop him.
“Can’t you pay the ransom?” he asked.
She shook her head and sniffed. “We’re a poor people. We don’t have enough wealth and we cannot give up more of our land. He has asked for me in exchange for Dafydd. I would gladly take my brother’s place, but I’m not stupid. If I give myself to him, Edwin will murder my brother anyway. With the royal family destroyed, Edwin will make my people his slaves. I can’t watch that happen.”
Wulfgar tensed, hating Edwin of Carlinham. The man didn’t care about the innocent lives he slaughtered. He cared only for his own gain. Because the border was so difficult to hold, King William had chosen his fiercest men to rule along the Welsh Marches. In return, the king left these b
arons alone, as long as they didn’t openly defy him. The earls along the border were far away from William’s rule. Their word was law, their dominion often unchecked by William. Their armies gave them the strength to do as they pleased. And Edwin had abused that power. It was only when King William felt threatened that he challenged his marcher lords.
And Wulfgar had paid dearly for it.
When it became apparent Wulfgar was gathering a large army, William had felt vulnerable. Waltheof, the Earl of Northumberland and Huntingdon, was to wed the king’s niece. Waltheof felt guilty for his part in the plot. He went to Normandy and told the king that Wulfgar was conspiring with him and the Scottish king to take England by force. King William had invaded Glyndwr with haste. Because he was loyal to William, Wulfgar hadn’t raised a single hand to stop the king. Wulfgar was taken to William’s stronghold at Winchester and cast into the dungeon. There Wulfgar was condemned by Waltheof’s testimony.
It was a lie, but Wulfgar had been unable to prove his innocence. Waltheof had been condemned to death and now awaited execution. Edwin of Carlinham had been named Earl of Glyndwr and Wulfgar was sold into slavery. In a matter of days, Wulfgar’s world had shattered.
Wulfgar had known Carlinham would be a cruel ruler. Even before Edwin had been given Glyndwr, Wulfgar had heard stories of his tyranny. The man had a penchant for gambling and had lost his own estates years earlier. Though he’d been heir to an old title, Edwin no longer had wealth to back his name. Somehow he had gotten into King William’s graces and had been rewarded with Wulfgar’s rich earldom.
And Wulfgar would take Glyndwr back.
No wonder Ariana was desperate to free Dafydd. It wouldn’t be long before Edwin of Carlinham discovered that King Rhys was dead. Then the Welsh would be at Carlinham’s mercy. Ariana’s people had little time. Indeed, Wulfgar was surprised the secret had been kept so well.
“It speaks well of your father that his people are so loyal to him and to you,” Wulfgar said. “It wouldn’t be unusual for another man to rise up to lead your people. I’m sure Jenkin could do it easily enough.”
