Her body tensed. “She’s receiving good care here.”
He pulled her to him. “Don’t be angry for the wrong reasons.”
She hesitated a long while before she spoke. “What you suggest has merit. You’re both needed by your people. Rhydderch can’t spend his life kneeling at my sister’s bedside in a remote village. I agree she should be taken to Powwydd, but I’ll go as Isolda’s nurse, not as your wife.”
Bring More Light
The silent walls of Powwydd welcomed the three sons of Rhodri. Carys had removed the bindings from Rhys’s leg and he walked with the aid of a staff. Annalise would bear their child soon and Rhys wanted his son born in Wales. Carys’s recovery from the difficult childbirth had been swift. Rhys and Annalise were godparents to Fleurie at her baptism. That scrap of humanity prospered, making her demands known.
A sadder homecoming brought Rhun and Rhydderch within the walls that had sheltered them since childhood. It was not the joyous occasion they had hoped for, but both brothers repeated to anyone who would listen that they were happy to be with the women they loved.
Rhydderch provided Isolda with healers to tend to her nursing. Maidservants washed and combed her hair, dressed and undressed her and attended to her bodily needs. He lavished her with kisses and soft touches, crooning soothing words and conversing with her about each day’s happenings. He turned her in the bed, bolstering her with pillows.
“My heart breaks to watch him,” Rhun told Glain.
She was unsympathetic. “He has shut me out of my sister’s care. He does everything for her. I may as well not be here.”
Rhun winced. “I’m glad you’re here.”
* * *
Rhys worried the tense atmosphere in the castle would endanger the health of his pregnant wife.
Annalise protested that she sympathised with his brothers’ plight. “You’re nervous about our bébé and angry because your brothers are unhappy.”
They lay abed, his head resting on her breasts.
She stroked his hair. “Pauvre Glain is probably crying herself to sleep alone in her own chamber, longing for Rhun, but she can find no way out of the predicament. She’s trapped by her loyalty to Isolda.”
He kissed her breast, grateful for the peace and contentment his Norman wife brought him. “You’re right. Rhun is cut off from the brother he’s been bound to all his life and is powerless to satisfy his craving for Glain. He’s become morose and moody, quick to lose his volatile temper. I’m supposed to be a diplomat, and yet I can’t reason with my own brothers. Rhun is tearing himself apart and Rhydderch is immersed in his sorrow. Nothing I say to them seems to get through.”
She cuddled into him. “They’re desperately in love and the fates have seen fit to thwart them. Perhaps they’re being tested in some way, as we were. We must find a way for them to be wed, but Glain won’t marry Rhun while Isolda sleeps.”
They clung together. “You’re always thinking of others, Annalise. I can’t believe you’re mine.”
He ran his hand over her swollen belly. She smiled as she pressed it to where the baby moved. “Là, he’s telling us he’s alive and kicking.”
He let out a long, slow breath. “If only we could say the same for Isolda.”
* * *
“Glain?”
Startled awake, Rhydderch looked up from the side of Isolda’s bed. Had he heard something? Had he imagined Isolda had spoken? He rubbed the cramped muscles of his neck.
“Glain?”
His eyes swiveled to Isolda’s face. The darkness thwarted him. He lifted her hand, massaging her palm with his thumbs, then pressed her fingers to his lips. “Isolda? Come back to me.”
“Rhydderch?”
He felt light-headed. Sweat sheened his body. “Isolda? I’m here waiting for you.”
Her eyes remained closed. “I know.”
He laid her hand back on the bed and ran to fling open the door. His voice echoed down the hallway. “To me, quickly.”
A breathless pageboy appeared.
“Find Lord Rhun and Lady Glain. Tell them to come here at once.”
The boy nodded nervously and hurried off.
Rhydderch rushed back to Isolda, grasped her hand and murmured her name again. He must not alarm her.
“Rhydderch? It’s dark.”
He pressed her hand to his forehead, unable to stem the tears of relief. “It’s late at night, my darling.”
She licked her lips. “I…I’m…thirsty.”
He quickly retrieved ale left over from his supper and held the goblet to her mouth, cradling her head. “Drink this.”
“Thank you, my love,” she whimpered after drinking a few sips. She drifted back to sleep, her hair spilling over his trembling hand.
* * *
Half asleep, Rhun strode into the chamber, torch in hand. Nothing had changed, apart from his brother’s obvious agitation. He raked his hand through his hair. “What’s happened?”
Rhydderch beckoned. “She spoke to me.”
Rhun looked into his eyes, fearful for his twin.
Glain hurried into the chamber, concern etched on her face. “What’s happening? Isolda? Has something—?”
Rhydderch interrupted excitedly. “She spoke to me. Actually, at first she spoke to you. She called your name.”
Glain had longed for Isolda to whisper her name, prayed for her sister to be whole again. She rushed to the bed. “But she still sleeps.”
Rhydderch’s eyes were wild. “Yes, but she said your name, and mine. She sipped some ale. Then she fell back to sleep. But she told me she knew I…that I waited here…for her. She knew. She said ‘thank you, my love’. She spoke. I heard her. She said it.”
He looked at his twin’s face and must have seen the doubt written there. He clenched his fists. “I tell you she spoke and she’ll speak again.”
Rhun kneaded the tense muscles of his brother’s shoulders. “I believe you.”
I must, for my own sake.
* * *
They continued their vigil into the early hours of the morning. Glain was dozing in a chair when a faint whisper came to her ears. “Glain?”
She rocked forward and grasped her sister’s hand, pressing it to her lips. “Isolda?”
“The darkness—”
Glain gasped, holding her breath. “It’s the middle of the night. I’m here. Can you see me?”
“No. But I feel your hand.”
Sennights of restrained grief washed over Glain as she pressed her sister’s hand to her forehead, trying to stem the torrent of threatening tears.
Rhun and Rhydderch stood behind her. Rhun put his hands on her shoulders. “She’ll understand if you cry.”
Glain finally took in a ragged breath. “Isolda, my sister, my twin. I feared you were lost to me forever. I’ve missed you.”
Isolda’s voice was faint and raspy. “I’ve…missed…you. Rhydderch has been telling me news of everyone. It’s dark. Can you bring light?”
Rhun wrenched the torch from the sconce and brought it closer.
Rhydderch pressed Isolda’s hand to his lips. “My love, welcome back. My heart never doubted you would awaken.”
With his help, Isolda sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. “Thank you for bringing me back. I can’t see. Is someone bringing light?”
Glain stifled a gasp. She passed her hands in front of Isolda’s eyes and looked back desperately at Rhun.
Rhydderch was immersed in kissing Isolda’s hand.
Glain whispered to Rhun. “Mayhap, it’s a passing thing?”
He shook his head.
“Bring more light, Rhun,” Rhydderch suggested. “It’s a moonless night.”
Rhun put his arm around his twin’s shoulder, and passed his hand in front of Isolda’s eyes. He whispered in his brother’s ear. “More light won’t improve the matter.”
Rhydderch understood at once. He gathered Isolda to his chest and rocked her. “Isolda, you will adjust to the light. We won’t brin
g torches until your sight improves. We don’t want to harm your beautiful blue eyes.”
Pride and sorrow warred within Rhun as he watched his brother cradle his beloved.
Rhydderch turned. “I’ll stay with her. She will need my help.”
* * *
Rhydderch ap Rhodri had known all his life what his destiny was. Or thought he had.
He had grown up listening to his father’s tales of his dream of the goddess, Arianrhod, revealing his destiny with Rhonwen as his wife.
In the moment he understood that Isolda had lost her sight, Rhydderch recognised that his ultimate destiny was not to be a fanatical Welsh patriot warrior. The reason for his existence was to be the helpmate of this woman he loved. It was as compelling a truth as his father’s dream had been.
He would not have thought it possible, but now he loved Isolda more. The pestilence had stolen nothing of her beauty. He grieved for her loss and acknowledged with a heavy heart that she would be devastated, but she was a woman of spirit who would overcome her grief. He relished a future of serving her, meeting her needs. Her blindness would help him become the man he was intended to be.
Isolda had returned from the dead. They would never be parted again.
* * *
Rhun carried his trembling betrothed back to her own chamber and helped her to bed. “I’ll stay, but don’t worry. I only want to bring comfort.”
Glain couldn’t speak. A cruel fate had befallen her sister. Hope had blossomed in her heart at the sound of Isolda’s voice. She had trusted all would be well for the four of them. Her sister had reawakened, but was blind. No matter the cost, she swore to stand at her sister’s side to help her with this burden. She fell asleep sobbing in Rhun’s arms.
* * *
As Rhun stroked Glain’s hair, the sobs racking her body twisted a knife in his heart. If the same affliction befell his twin brother, no doubt he would move heaven and earth to help him. Glain would do no less for her sister. He grieved for Isolda, sightless in a world dangerous enough for the sighted. He grieved for his brother whose life had suddenly become very difficult. They had shared everything, but Rhydderch would have to shoulder most of this burden alone. He grieved for Glain because he loved her. And he grieved for himself, terrified he might lose his beloved to Isolda’s blindness.
Diplomatic Efforts
Isolda pouted as she struggled to free her hand from her betrothed’s grasp. “Forgive me, Rhydderch, but can you not see I am blind?”
He took a deep breath. “I know that’s true now, Isolda, just as I know three days ago you were in a deep sleep no one believed you would awaken from, yet here you are, saucy as ever.”
She blushed and thrust back her head. “Blind women don’t make good wives. I can’t marry you. Things are different.”
He placed her hand on his arousal and held it there. “Nothing about my passion for you has changed, as you can tell. I want you to be my wife, and I’ll keep asking until you agree. I would, of course, prefer you to see my obvious interest in you, but—” He bent to kiss her lips softly, “—I can describe it to you.”
A warm ache snaked its way into her belly and her breasts tightened. She should remove her hand from his disturbing hardness. “No, Rhydderch. It would be selfish to agree. You’re an important man, with many responsibilities. You need a wife who can stand by your side, a wife with her sight.”
He laced his fingers in her hair. “What I need, what I hunger for, is you.”
She wanted to believe him, to give herself over to him, but fear held her fast, fear of her blindness, of the future. “No. I can’t be your wife. You’ll find another, one who is whole. I must learn to live in a new world.”
He raised his voice slightly. “You won’t let me help you with your challenges. You refuse to share your new world with me, the man who obviously loves you.”
He thrust his hips provocatively. She wrenched her hand away. “It’s mine to face alone.”
His anger filled her senses. “But you know Glain won’t let you face it alone. She’ll be there to help you on every step of the journey. You won’t refuse her help.”
“No,” Isolda admitted. “She’s my twin.”
“You’ll deny your sister her life with Rhun?”
She gritted her teeth. “I deny Glain nothing.”
His angry voice echoed off the walls of the small chamber. “Your self pity will destroy your sister and my brother. They love each other desperately, but Glain won’t marry him if she believes you need her. I can fulfill those needs, but you refuse me. You want to keep her for yourself.”
He slammed the heavy door as he left. She sobbed into the bolster, lost in private grief, wanting him with a desperate ache, but not knowing how to cope with being adrift in a sightless sea.
* * *
“How is Isolda?” Rhun asked as Glain took her seat for the evening meal in the neuadd. “I haven’t seen you for several days. I hope the time you spend with her is helping.”
His voice betrayed his irritation, yet she understood the frustration of not being able to reach out and touch the person one loved to distraction. She wanted to sound positive. “She’s well, and is learning to dress and feed herself.”
He did not smile. “Good, and how do you fare, Glain?”
It was impossible to look at him as the molten heat he stirred rushed to her loins. “I’m…I’m well, Rhun.” She could barely speak his name. “How do you fare?”
He shrugged. “I fare badly, but you know that.” He came to his feet abruptly, toppling his chair.
Tears trickled unbidden down her cheek as she watched him leave.
* * *
Rhys and Annalise witnessed the angry exchange between Glain and Rhun.
“I need to do something about this,” Rhys said. “It goes from bad to worse.”
She curled her arm in his. “You may be the only person who can bring a solution. They’re destroying each other. Help them.”
He patted her arm. “The person who holds the key to this is Isolda. I’ll begin with her.”
Annalise put her forefinger to her chin. “She spends her afternoons in the petit chamber off the neuadd, and Glain is often in the jardin.”
Rhys winked as he came to his feet, rubbed his sore leg and hastened off as fast as he could. He found Isolda where his wife had indicated she would be. He crossed his fingers, squared his shoulders and uttered a silent prayer. He limped into the chamber, coughing to alert her to his presence. “My lady Isolda, such a pleasure to find you here.”
Isolda startled, but recovered quickly. “Lord Prince, I’m grateful to be a guest here in your llys.”
“Isolda, I’m the brother of your betrothed. Please call me Rhys. May I sit? My leg—”
“Of course.” She squirmed in the chair, her white fingers gripping the arms. “My lord, Rhydderch and I can no longer be betrothed. I’m blind.”
Rhys uttered a disdainful reproof, for effect. “My dear Isolda, do you judge my baby brother so shallow he would cast off a woman he loves because she has lost her sight?”
She bit her lip. “But my lord—”
“Is sight the only attribute you brought to the proposed marriage before your illness?”
“No. But—”
He decided to raise his voice. “Do you love Rhydderch?”
Her eyes filled with tears and she swallowed hard. “Yes, of course. I’ve never stopped loving him. But—”
Ignore the tears. Show no mercy.
“I used to be a great cynic when it came to matters of love. Now, if I had to live without my beloved Annalise I would find it impossible. Few people ever find their true love, their soul’s mate. You’ve found yours, yet you push him away.”
She fisted her hands and pounded the arms of the chair. “But I am blind.”
“You have a man who is besotted with you, who yearns to be your eyes, and you reject him. It would seem you’re not the courageous woman I believed you to be. I bid you good day.”
He rose and limped to the door. She probably thought he had left but he watched as she slumped deeper into the chair, struggling to suppress the tears. Did she understand he spoke from the heart? She feared she would burden Rhydderch with her blindness. Rhys had to hope his brother loved her enough to shoulder such a burden.
He made his way to the garden where he espied Glain, sitting on a bench.
“My lady Glain, such a pleasure to find you enjoying the sunshine here in the garden.”
Glain seemed startled and made an attempt to rise and curtsey. “My lord Prince, I’m grateful to be a guest here.”
“Glain, I’m the brother of your betrothed. Please call me Rhys. You need not rise on my account, but I must sit. You worked miracles to mend my leg. However, sometimes—”
She hesitated halfway between a curtsey and the bench as he sat down beside her. “My lord, Rhun and I can no longer be betrothed. My sister is blind and I must take care of her needs first.”
“My dear Glain, do you consider my baby brother Rhydderch so shallow he would cast off a woman he loves because she is blind?”
“But my lord—”
“Is sight the only attribute she brought to the proposed marriage before her illness?”
“No. But—”
“Do you love Rhun?”
Her breath caught in her throat. She leaned forward to pick up a twig, twisting it back and forth between her fingers. Tears filled her eyes. “Yes, of course. I’ve never stopped loving him. But—”
He put his hand on hers, stilling the twig. “I used to be a great cynic when it came to matters of love. Now, if I had to live without my beloved Annalise, I would find it impossible. Few people ever find their true love, their soul mate. You’ve found yours, yet you keep pushing him away out of a misguided sense of duty to your sister.”
Allegiance Page 11
