by K. M. Ashman
‘Spoken like a true invader,’ said Nesta, the disdain clear upon her face.
‘Perhaps so.’ Gerald inclined his head. ‘But that depends on which side your allegiance sits. One man’s invader is another man’s liberator.’
‘Even if you believe in what you say,’ said Nesta, ‘surely you can see that it would leave a bitter taste in any Welshman’s mouth to bend a knee to English rule?’
‘Nobody expects anything different to what you do now,’ said Gerald. ‘The serfs will still be beholden to great families like your own so will know no different.’
‘But our taxes and such will be payable to the English Crown. Surely you can understand how bitter that will be?’
‘So William’s treasury gets bigger, but in return you get the full power of royal justice against any who break the king’s laws. Is that such a bad thing? Is not peace and prosperity a worthwhile outcome in return for those very lords who oppress their own people being brought to heel?’
‘My father never treated his people unfairly yet he and my brothers were cut down at Brycheniog,’ Nesta said quietly, a lump forming in her throat.
‘I am very sorry to hear that,’ said Gerald, ‘but alas, when situations have deteriorated so much that swords are drawn then common sense disappears as bloodlust rises. We are all guilty of such things, even your father, but such is the way of men. I would rather hold the dove of peace than the sword of justice but if the latter is needed, then I will wield it with every fibre of my being.’
At his words, Nesta looked up at the young noble, noticing for the first time his kind eyes. He smiled at her. Quickly she realised she was staring and looked away.
‘I am feeling much better now,’ she said clearing her throat, ‘perhaps we should return.’
‘Only if you are sure,’ said Gerald.
‘I am fine,’ said Nesta, standing up. Please escort me back to the hall.’
Gerald also got to his feet and offered her his arm.
‘Would you please do me the honour?’ he asked.
Nesta hesitated but as she was still a little unsure of her balance, slipped her arm though his.
Nesta and Gerald of Windsor re-joined the banquet but though Gerald returned to his original place at the table, Nesta was invited to sit next to her mother for the remainder of the evening.
Eventually, the meal was finished and the entertainment came to a close. Many of the guests left the banquet hall and retired to other rooms to mingle while Gwladus took the opportunity to walk across the hall to engage one of the few ladies at court she called a friend.
Nesta sat back and looked around the hall. She had attended similar banquets on several occasions in the past but they never failed to impress her. The decor was wonderful, the food exquisite and the atmosphere one of grace and privilege. It was a different world to the one where she had grown up and certainly far more civilised. Yet despite this, she would leave it in a heartbeat for the chance to breathe in the fire smoke in the hall of Dinefwr Castle.
For a few moments she allowed herself the luxury of remembering the many days where she had ridden hard through the forests of Dinefwr, hunting the deer alongside her father’s nobles, as good as any man in the saddle. The noise from the room faded as she remembered the sweet rain upon her face and the sea breeze blowing through her hair. Even the simplest of pleasures like drinking straight from crystal clear streams, or eating berries from a bush, now seemed like a magical dream and so very, very far away.
‘Are you well, my lady?’ asked a voice nervously, and Nesta returned to reality with a jolt.
Beside her stood Gerald of Windsor holding a goblet of wine in each hand.
‘I am fine, thank you,’ said Nesta, sitting up straight and turning her head away so he couldn’t see the redness in her cheeks.
‘Are you sure? If you feel faint again I can bring your mother.’
‘That won’t be necessary,’ she said, glancing up at him, ‘I was just remembering . . . something.’
‘Dreaming of home?’ asked Gerald.
Nesta’s brows lifted slightly and she smiled in acknowledgement at his perceptiveness.
‘Actually, I was,’ said Nesta, ‘that’s very astute of you.’
‘I often do the same,’ said Gerald. He paused before adding, ‘may I join you?’
Nesta nodded gently and Gerald sat in her mother’s seat, placing one of the goblets before her.
‘I took the liberty of bringing you some wine,’ he said. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. ‘Don’t tell anyone but it’s from the king’s cellar. I risked my very life to steal a few drops from his personal decanter. Quite divine if I may say so.’
‘You stole wine for me?’ said Nesta with a sarcastic smile.
‘Well, initially both goblets were for me,’ said Gerald, ‘but now I am next to you, courtesy demands I share. Of course, if you don’t want it . . .’ He made a show of reaching for the second goblet but was stopped by Nesta’s hand on his wrist.
‘No, I accept your gift,’ she said, ‘how could I refuse such a noble gesture? It’s not often a man risks his head to bring me a drink.’
For a moment both fell silent until Gerald glanced down at Nesta’s hand still on his wrist.
‘Oh heavens,’ gasped Nesta, removing her hand, ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Not at all,’ said Gerald, ‘it was quite pleasant. Anyway, let us not waste time on the niceties of court life, let’s drink and savour the results of my ill-gotten gains.’ He picked up the goblet and lifting it to his lips, proposed a toast. ‘To Wales.’
Nesta stifled a laugh and picked up her own goblet.
‘What’s so funny?’ asked Gerald.
‘I don’t know,’ said Nesta with a smile, ‘but if this wine is half as sweet as the honeyed drivel dripping off that silver tongue of yours, then I expect to be quite sick before this night is out.’
For a moment Gerald stared at Nesta until a few seconds later, both burst into laughter.
For the next hour or so, Nesta enjoyed the company of Gerald of Windsor and gradually relaxed into his company. Together they talked of Wales and Nesta’s life growing up in a Welsh castle yet both were careful to avoid the obvious political differences that would only cast a cloud on the evening. Eventually she realised that though he wouldn’t have been her first choice of companion, and despite their different stance on her home country, she found his company agreeable and mildly entertaining so wasn’t surprised when she felt a pang of disappointment as her mother returned, her face flushed with excitement.
‘Nesta,’ she said, ‘you must come quickly.’
‘Mother, can’t you see I am busy?’ replied the young woman.
‘Indeed,’ said Gwladus,’ but this is important. The king himself is holding audience and has agreed to meet you.’ She turned to Gerald. ‘Sir, would you mind if I tear her away for a few moments, opportunities like this are few and far between for people such as us.’
‘Of course,’ said Gerald, ‘please go ahead. I’ll be right here when you return.’
Gwladus took the arm of her daughter and led her through to a side room where the king was chatting, surrounded by a circle of young women, each transfixed by his every word. Gwladus eased her way through to the front of the circle and made eye contact with the king.
‘Ah, there you are,’ said William, ‘please, step forward so I can see you both properly.’
The line of women parted to allow mother and daughter through and both curtsied before the king.
‘My lord,’ said Gwladus, ‘my name is Gwladus ferch Rhiwallon, wife of King Rhys ap Tewdwr of Deheubarth.’
‘I am delighted to meet you,’ said the king, ‘and please accept my condolences for the loss of your husband and sons.’
Gwladus nodded gently in acknowledgement but did not answer.
‘And who is this?’ asked William, turning his attention to Nesta.
‘This is my daughter, Nesta ferch Rhys,’ said Gwladus, �
�currently unattached and a ward of your court.’
‘Of course,’ said William, ‘I have heard many stories about this one, and may I say, not all complimentary.’
The gathered women giggled at the veiled insult and Nesta felt her cheeks burning once again. All eyes turned to her, expecting a response and the room fell quiet as she struggled to find something to say.
‘Actually,’ said a voice from across the room, rescuing her from her predicament, ‘I find such spirit in a woman extremely attractive and so much better than the giggling sycophancy that many ladies display these days, don’t you agree?’
‘It has its merits,’ answered the king eventually, looking across to the man who had interrupted his conversation. The other man smiled and lowered his head slightly in a semblance of a bow.
Suddenly disinterested, William turned away to talk to somebody at his side. Nesta breathed a sigh of relief and as she glanced over to thank her rescuer, the man raised his goblet in a parody of a toast. Nesta was overwhelmed, not just by his generosity in rescuing her from an awkward situation but also by his striking good looks. Unlike the other men in the room who wore their hair short, this noble had brown hair that fell immaculately about his shoulders and a neatly trimmed beard that somehow served to enhance his attractive, almost feminine features. His clothes were embroidered with gold thread and he was obviously a man of high importance around the court of King William.
‘Thank you,’ she mouthed silently and received a wink in return but before they could share any conversation, the man was ushered away by his seconds. Gwladus stared after the rapidly disappearing man before turning back to face her daughter.
‘Well, you certainly made a good impression on him,’ she said.
‘Just as well,’ said Nesta, ‘for I was embarrassed beyond measure. Mother, why do you insist on doing these things to me?’
‘I admit it did not turn out the way I expected,’ said Gwladus, ‘but we must take every opportunity presented if we are to survive in this cruel world.’
‘I told you, I’m not interested,’ hissed Nesta.
Gwladus stared at Nesta with anger on her face before taking her arm and dragging her out into a corridor.
‘Now you listen to me, young lady,’ she said, ‘we are two women without husbands in the middle of a war that has already robbed us of so much. Our lands are diminished, our armies dispersed and we have little money to speak of. I have lost a husband and two sons to this war and another lies incarcerated in some unknown dungeon. My only other child resides in Ireland being brought up by strangers while you, Nesta, are surrounded by royalty and wealth. You, out of all of us, have the chance to rebuild a life worth living yet you continue to throw every opportunity back in the faces of those trying to help. Your childhood is over, Nesta, and it is time you grew up.’
‘Don’t you think I miss them?’ hissed Nesta. ‘Don’t you realise that I too cry myself to sleep at night thinking about my brothers and father? You are not the only one to mourn, Mother, I loved them just as much as you.’ Tears appeared in her eyes and Gwladus took her daughter into her arms.
‘I know, child,’ she said, ‘and they loved you too but it is precisely for that reason you should take whatever opportunity life lays before you. They would not want you to struggle in life, not knowing where your future lies. If they were here now they would be agreeing with me, looking for the best possible match in order for you to be safe and comfortable. Don’t you see? I go on so because I love you and want what’s best.’
Nesta nodded and wiped her eyes.
‘I know,’ she said, ‘and I am sorry for being such an ungrateful daughter.’
Gwladus held her again.
‘Don’t be silly, it has been a long night and we are both tired. Why don’t we make our apologies and retire to our quarters?’
Nesta nodded and smiled weakly.
‘I’d like that,’ she said and after linking her arm through that of her mother, both women left the banquet to make their way back to their rooms.
The following morning the palace was a hive of activity. Messengers ran to and fro and it soon became apparent that something serious was afoot. Nesta and Gwladus wandered the passages trying to find out what they could, but to no avail; none of their associates seemed to know anything and those that did, weren’t saying and were avoiding eye contact wherever possible. Finally, the mother and daughter left the court and made their way out into the gardens, glad to get away from the drama. But they hadn’t gone far when they saw a group of men deep in conversation.
‘Isn’t that Gerald of Windsor?’ asked Gwladus. ‘That nice young man from last night.’
‘I believe it is,’ said Nesta. She paused and stared over at the man before making a decision.
‘Wait here,’ she said, ‘I have an idea.’
Before her mother could stop her, Nesta walked over to the group of men and coughed politely to make her presence known. All four men looked over and Gerald’s face lit up in recognition.
‘Lady Nesta,’ he said, ‘a very good day to you.’
‘And to you,’ replied Nesta. ‘I was wondering if you could spare me a few moments of your time.’
‘Of course,’ replied Gerald. He turned to his comrades. ‘Please excuse me, I will return shortly.’
‘Make haste,’ said one of the men, ‘for our steeds await.’
Gerald nodded and joined Nesta to walk over to a nearby tree.
‘You look well this morning,’ said Gerald, ‘I trust the illness that afflicted you has cleared away?’
‘It has,’ said Nesta, ‘thanks to you.’
‘I did nothing, Lady Nesta, except enjoy your company.’
‘On the contrary, sir, you looked after me when I was unwell and for that I am eternally grateful.’
‘I did nothing that any other man wouldn’t do. Did you find the evening agreeable?’
‘Surprisingly, yes. The company was most pleasant, as was that wine.’
‘Shhh,’ said Gerald looking around in mock fear, ‘I hear they seek the thief as we speak.’
‘Well, they will not learn his identity from me,’ said Nesta with a smile. ‘After an embarrassing start, the evening turned out to be most pleasant.’
‘I am gratified,’ said Gerald with a slight nod, ‘though I am bound to say I was disappointed you did not return after your audience with the king. Did I offend you in some way?’
‘Of course not, and that is why I wanted to speak to you, to apologise for my unannounced departure and to thank you for your most courteous attention.’
‘The pleasure was all mine,’ said Gerald and he kissed Nesta’s hand.
‘So,’ said Nesta, ‘is it possible our paths may cross again sometime soon?’
Gerald’s face dropped and he stared at the young woman with dismay.
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Nesta, ‘I have obviously been too forward and have embarrassed you. Please forgive me.’ She turned to walk away but Gerald called out after her.
‘My lady,’ he said, ‘of course you have not embarrassed me and there is nothing I would love more but alas your timing is unfortunate for I have to ride away this very day.’
‘To where?’ asked Nesta, turning back around.
‘I am not supposed to say,’ said Gerald looking around, ‘but if you promise not to repeat it, I will share my destination.’
‘I have nobody in these walls that I call a close friend except my mother,’ said Nesta, ‘anything you say is safe with me.’
‘Then let me explain,’ said Gerald. ‘News arrived at the palace last night that the Welsh rebellion has taken a new turn. As you may know, Gruffydd ap Cynan escaped from captivity a few years ago and has been using Ireland as a base to campaign down the Welsh coast. In reality this is a minor problem but it is rumoured that he has now allied himself with the rebel Cadwgan ap Bleddyn and seeks the return of Gwynedd to his rule. If this is indeed the case then it is a completely different situation and needs
addressing.’
Nesta paused, recognising the name of the king who had fought alongside her father at Mynydd Carn all those years earlier.
‘What are you going to do?’ she asked eventually.
‘William intends marching into Wales to put down the rebellion before it has a chance of spreading. I have to ride today to muster those men already in Wales in case the rebel army descends upon them before it can be crushed.’ He paused and stared at her in silence for a few moments. ‘Nesta,’ he said eventually, ‘I know these are your countrymen we are talking about but I have no choice in this matter. I have to go and serve my king and hope that you can see beyond the immediate heartache that is the outcome of all wars. If so, and if you see even the slightest ember of the way my heart already burns for you, then perhaps, when this is done, you will see fit to receive me as a suitor. Do you think such a thing may be possible?’
Nesta thought for a few moments considering the news. Apart from nationality she had no affiliation with Gruffydd, and Cadwgan had been one of her father’s sworn enemies, twice attacking her homeland of Deheubarth in her lifetime. Despite them being fellow countrymen, she owed neither any allegiance and besides, her mother had been right – it was time to grow up.
‘Yes, Gerald,’ she said with a smile, ‘not only is that possible, I will look forward to your return.’
This time it was Gerald’s turn to smile.
‘In that case I will not spare the horses and be back before you know it. Fare ye well, beautiful lady.’ He bent and took her hand before kissing it gently. ‘Until we meet again.’
Nesta blushed slightly but before she could respond, Gerald turned and ran back to his comrades.
‘What was all that about?’ asked Gwladus when Nesta returned.
‘You wondered what was going on in the palace, well now we know.’
‘You just asked him?’
‘I did, and he was very honest in his answers. The king is going to war, Mother, he’s marching into Wales within days.’