"You knew her." Sir Robert responded. "If she were your wife, would you not at least attempt to find her? I know I would."
It was alter midnight when the waning moon rose and they departed the crusaders' encampment. They rode toward the mountains, dark shadowed mounds upon the horizon. Above them in the clear black sky the stars twinkled in lonely splendor. Their journey ceased when the sun became too hot for travel. Then they would water the horses from the supply they carried and shelter in the gray shadow of the rocks. For four days they rode, but they saw nothing. No tents. No livestock. No people. Everything about them was wilderness. There was absolutely no sign of any civilization, even in the foothills of the mountains. Not a trace of human habitation was visible. It was as if the earth had opened up and swallowed Rhonwyn.
Edward's heart grew heavier with each passing day. He finally accepted what everyone had been telling him. Rhonwyn was gone. His beautiful wild Welsh wife was lost to him. He would never see her again. Giving the word to his two grateful knights, he turned their horses back to the sea, directing their steps toward the Acre road so they might join Prince Edward and his crusaders. On the first night of their return journey as his two knights slept, Edward hid himself among the rocks and wept for the woman he believed he loved. But in the days that followed, his heart hardened toward her. Everything that had happened was her fault. She had avoided her marital duties and given him no heir. Then she had insisted upon coming on crusade when a responsible woman would have remained at Haven, praying for his safe return and doing her duty as his chatelaine. It was one thing for a queen or a princess to come on crusade, but the wife of a simple lord had no business being in the midst of such an adventure.
His thoughts began to stray to his cousin Katherine. He would need a wife when he returned home to England. His cousin's family had always hoped he would marry Katherine, and now he would. She was fair enough and obedient to boot. There would be no nonsense over his possession of her body, and Katherine would gladly give him heirs as quicldy as his seed took root. Aye, Katherine would be the perfect wife for him. Arriving in Acre, he hired a scribe and dictated a letter to his cousin Rafe.
Rafe de Beaulieu was surprised when in the spring of the next year he received his cousin's missive from Acre. "You are to be married!" he told his sister. "The Welsh wife has died, although I should not have thought a healthy girl like that would succumb easily, but she has! Edward wants you for his wife. When he returns home you will be wed, sister. This is just what the family has always wanted, Kate!" And yet while pleased for Kate, he grieved secretly for the beautiful Rhonwyn. If she had been his he would have kept her safe.
"We must pray for the lady Rhonwyn's soul," Katherine said quietly. "I liked her, for she was as good as she was beautiful. All the servants have told me that."
"Pray for her then, sister," Rafe said, and seeing her stricken look, continued, "I am rough spoken, Kate, and well you know it. Forgive me. In my happiness over your good fortune I did not consider the misfortune of the lady Rhonwyn. She was beautiful, and we had no quarrel with her. I will pray for her also."
It was Father John who brought Glynn the news of his sister's demise. The boy was, as was expected, devastated by the news. "Do you want to go home to Wales?" the priest asked him. "To your father?"
Glynn swallowed hard. "Nay," he said. "Rhonwyn wanted me to be educated, and I will not disappoint her, good father. I will remain in school. I thank you for coming to tell me, for had I learned of this at Haven on my next visit, I should have given everything away in my grief. How did my sister die?"
"Edward did not say. I expect it was too painful for him," the priest replied. "We will learn the truth when he returns home to Haven, but not until then I fear."
"I do not sense my sister dead," Glynn said thoughtfully. "I would have thought if she had died I should have known, we were that close, good father."
"Do not allow your Celtic mysticism to overcome your Christian sense, my lad," the priest warned him as he turned to depart.
Glynn murmured as if in agreement, but in his heart he did not acquiesce to the priest's words. Until he learned from his brother-in-law exactly how his sister had died-that Edward had seen it himself-Glynn could not believe that Rhonwyn was gone from this earth into the next. Not his sister. She had too strong a will to die young.
Alone in his dormitory Glynn began to play upon his lute, composing as he did so another ballad about a warrior woman called Rhonwyn, and he suddenly felt a sense of great comfort sweeping over him. She is not dead! he thought. But what has happened to her? It was then the thought entered his mind. He would go to Acre himself and find Edward. Then having learned the truth, he would find Rhonwyn.
Glynn ap Llywelyn went into the town several days later to seek out Oth and Dewi. His two guardians had been sent back from Wales by his father when Glynn entered the abbey school. In order to maintain themselves they hired out as men-at-arms for local folk traveling the countryside, but their base was in Shrewsbury, to which they always returned. They boarded with an elderly widow who felt safer by their frequent presence. Glynn made his way through the town's narrow streets to the widow's house by the river.
"Good morrow, Mistress Ellen," he greeted her cheerfully. "Can you tell me if Oth and Dewi are in town today?"
"Just back yesterday, young master. They are working my garden for me," the old lady replied. "Go along through."
"Jesu, lad," Oth said, catching sight of Glynn, "you seem to grow bigger each day. What is it the good brothers feed you?"
The two Welshmen embraced Glynn.
"Father John has been to see me," Glynn said without any preamble. "He has had a letter from Edward saying that Rhonwyn has died."
"I don't believe it!" Oth burst out.
"Nor I," Dewi agreed.
Glynn smiled with relief. "Good, because I do not feel the loss of my sister's presence at all," he told the two. "Edward must believe such a thing or he would not say it, but until I learn for myself just what happened, I cannot accept that Rhonwyn is gone from us. I mean to go to Acre where the crusade is now settled. Will you two come with me?"
"Aye," they answered with one voice.
"Good," Glynn replied. "Now, I have considered this carefully. Neither Rafe de Beaulieu or his sister know my true identity. They will wonder if I do not come to Haven, and they will worry, for I am believed to be Edward's bastard. I shall visit them shortly and tell them that because I am considering the priesthood, I am being sent to one of the order's other schools in France for a year. As for the father abbott, you two shall come to him in three days' time, for he knows my true identity, and you will tell him that my father, ap Gruffydd, desires me to join him for several months, and you have been sent to escort me to him. We will then go to Haven and from there to the Holy Land."
"What of Father John?" Oth asked. "Will he believe your little tale of school in France? He is no fool, lad."
"I will tell him the truth," Glynn said. "He cannot betray me lest he betray Edward's subterfuge to his kin. I do not believe he will do that."
Oth looked at the boy who was now sixteen and practically a man. He would not have expected such a daring plan from the gentle Glynn, but it was obvious that the lad meant to seek his sister out no matter what anyone else said. "What are we to do for traveling funds?" he asked in a pragmatic tone. "Dewi and I have some coins put aside, but we'll need more than what we have."
"I have my allowance," Glynn said. "I've never spent it but for strings for my musical instruments. I have almost everything Edward gave me last year, and I will ask Rafe de Beaulieu for more since I am going to France." He chuckled. "And if we run out of funds, I shall sing for our supper."
"Well, then," said Oth, "there is nought to keep us from our travels, Glynn ap Llywelyn. We shall come for you in three days' time."
And when they did the father was most sympathetic. "Of course Prince Llywelyn would want his son with him under the tragic circumstances," he said. Fa
ther John had told him of Rhonwyn's demise. "We have been praying for the lady's good soul ever since we learned the terrible news." He turned to Glynn. "We shall eagerly await your return, Glynn ap Llywelyn. Go now and comfort your father."
"You're a true Welshman," Oth said approvingly as they rode through the city gates. "You played your part well and never once looked guilty over the lies we told that good priest."
Glynn merely grinned at his companion.
At Haven Gastle the boy appeared alone and told his tale to Rafe de Beaulieu and his sister. Father John lifted a questioning eyebrow but said nothing.
"So you are considering being a priest," Rafe said enthusiastically.
"Why should this make you happy?" Glynn said.
"Because you are my cousin Edward's get. He will wed my sister, Katherine, when he returns from crusade. While you are a bastard, if Edward should die, you might attempt to usurp my sister's children from their rightful inheritance. As a priest I can trust you and your intentions, Glynn of Thorley."
Glynn felt a terrible fury welling up within him. Rhonwyn was barely dead, according to Edward, and he was already planning a new marriage. I will kill him, Glynn vowed silently to himself, and then he caught Father John's eye. He swallowed his anger back down, but it still burned within him as he said, "Your devotion to your sister is commendable, Rafe."
"What is this all about?" the priest demanded of Glynn when they were finally alone.
"I do not believe my sister is dead," Glynn replied. "You scoff at my Celtic mysticism, but there has always been a bond between my sister and me. It is not that I am grieving or unable to accept the truth in this matter. If Rhonwyn were dead, I should feel it. I do not, and if I do not, she must be alive. I am going to the Holy Land to find her and to find out from my treacherous brother-in-law what has happened to her. How quickly he plans his remarriage."
The priest sighed. "I see I cannot dissuade you, Glynn," he said. "May I assume Oth and Dewi are nearby?"
"They are and will be my companions in this adventure." The boy's eyes twinkled. "You must see that Rafe de Beaulieu gives me a fat purse for my journey to France and my year's stay there."
"What did you tell the abbott?" the priest demanded.
"That my father had called me back to Wales," Glynn replied. "It seemed a plausible explanation."
"Aye," the priest said. "If you must lie, 'tis best to keep it simple." He sighed again, then advised, "Go to Dover, Glynn. There are still ships sailing for the Holy Land with men who wish to join Prince Edward. A young minstrel and two men-at-arms will easily find passage on one of these vessels. This is a good time of year to go, as the seas will be calmer than in winter."
"You will pray for us, father, will you not?"
"I will pray hard for you, Glynn ap Llywelyn. You go, I fear, on a fool's errand, but if it will satisfy your heart and soul to make this journey, then I cannot deny you. If Edward de Beaulieu says your sister is dead, God assoil her good soul, then surely she must be, for what reason would he have to lie? He cared for the lady Rhonwyn."
Glynn shook his head. "Like you, I am puzzled, but I also know in my heart that my sister lives. Why Edward believes her dead I cannot say, but I go to learn the truth of the matter."
"I will see you well funded," the priest promised.
The monies were handed over, and Glynn departed Haven Castle the following day, a fat purse well hidden on his person and Father John's blessing ringing in his ears. Joining Oth and Dewi down the road, he turned to look back and wondered if he would ever see Haven again. While startling, the feeling did not distress him. His goal was to find Rhonwyn, and in that he would not be deterred. He bad grown not just physically but intellectually during his time at the abbey school. While he still preferred music and poetry to armaments and fighting, he had found he was capable of being tough and hard when he must be so.
They spent the next few days riding across England to Dover. There, as the priest had told them, were vessels preparing to depart for the Holy Land and Prince Edward's crusade. They took passage on a sturdy ship with a Welsh captain who, looking at Oth, claimed kinship with him through a female relation and welcomed them aboard. After three days at sea the captain and Oth had traced their family connection to the sister of Oth's grandsire, who had been the captain's grandmam. Oth explained to his kinsman that Glynn was also their kinsman and a minstrel going to the Holy Land to entertain the soldiers. During the seven weeks of their voyage Glynn entertained the captain and the crew with his ballads, his sweet voice rising above the roar of the sea.
Once into the Mediterranean the days and the nights grew warmer and then hot. Their vessel stopped at several ports to unload and take on cargo, food, and water. Finally they reached Acre, an ancient city reputed to have the finest port on the Mediterranean. Once Acre had belonged to the Syrians, but in the seventh century it had been captured by the Arabs. It had changed hands several times during the early crusades, but was now firmly in the hands of the Knights Hospitalers who had held it for almost a hundred years as part of the kingdom of Jerusalem.
Glynn, Oth, and Dewi disembarked their ship and quickly found themselves in the crowded, noisy, and dusty streets of the city. Their ship's captain had directed them to a small inn where they would not be cheated or robbed if they were careful. Reaching the inn, they were relieved to find the innkeeper, a large buxom woman of indeterminate age, spoke the Norman tongue.
"I am Glynn of Thorley, minstrel extraordinaire and sent to you by Captain Rhys, mistress. These two are my bodyguards, who are quite capable of keeping the peace within your inn on the best of nights or the worst," Glynn told her with an elegant bow.
"You are seeking employment?" she asked them, her hands upon her ample hips.
"We seek temporary shelter, mistress," Glynn said, "but we are willing to work for it and for our supper."
"Why temporary?" the innkeeper demanded of him, licking her lips provocatively as she looked at Oth.
Oth winked at her.
"I have come to Acre seeking my good overlord, Edward de Beaulieu, who is with Prince Edward," Glynn answered. "If he is in Acre, I will find him, and if he is not, I may at least learn where he is, mistress."
"I can accommodate you," the innkeeper said. "You may have your days free, but your nights you must give to me… to entertaining my customers, I mean. And your men will be at my beck and call in the evenings as well. Is it agreed?" For the first time she looked directly at Glynn, surprised at his youth.
"It is agreed, mistress," he said with a smile. He thought her a pretty woman with skin as white as milk and black, black hair.
"My name is Nada," the innkeeper said. "It means giving in the language of the Arabs, and I am known to be a most generous woman." Her gaze was again on Oth. "Do your companions have names, young minstrel?"
"They are Oth and Dewi," Glynn responded with a gesture toward the two men.
"There is a nice room behind the kitchens," Mistress Nada said. "Come, and I will show you. Then, perhaps, you would like to have a decent meal, for from the look of you, you haven't had good food in over a month. I like my men with more meat on their bones."
"The better to eat you alive," Dewi murmured to his companions in their own tongue. "You're a lucky dog, Oth. She looks like she'll prove a right lusty fuck!"
"I'll see if she has a sister," Oth returned softly.
The inn, in a whitewashed dried mud building, had a hard-packed dirt floor. Inside it was cool and dim. The wooden tables were well scrubbed, their benches tucked neatly beneath them. They followed the innkeeper through the main room of her establishment into a bright kitchen at the rear of the building. From the rafters there bung sheaves of dried herbs and fruits. Pots boiled merrily over the fire. From the ovens came the delicious smell of baking. The three women servants glanced briefly at them, then returned to their chores. The men could see a courtyard beyond the kitchen through its narrow windows.
"Your room is through there." She
pointed. "It has a door to the courtyard. It is clean and dry, I promise you."
Glynn stepped into the chamber, followed by Dewi. Oth, however, remained in the kitchen with the innkeeper. He backed the woman up into a wall alcove and fumbled her ample breasts. Nada smiled broadly, showing strong white teeth, and rubbed herself against him in a decidedly suggestive manner.
"There is no time now," she said, "and besides, you will need a good meal first so you may be filled with strength. What does Oth mean?" Her hand slipped into his breeches, and she fondled him, her black eyes widening as she felt him hard and large in her palm. "Leave us," she called to her three servants, who immediately obeyed.
"Giant," he said meaningfully. "Dewi will keep the boy away." Then he turned her about, pushing her down over her kitchen table even as his hands were raising up her skirts so he might have access to her. His manhood found her love channel easily, and Oth thrust himself into the woman with a groan, working himself back and forth as she eagerly pushed her plump rump into his groin.
"Ah, that's good, you devil!" she moaned. "Don't stop!"
He pleasured her for several minutes, and then said, "Sorry, lass, but 'tis just a taster I can give you now. Yer right. I do need my dinner." Then he emptied his seed into her with a lusty sigh.
Nada let out a long hiss of breath, collapsing slightly upon her table. As Oth withdrew from her she slowly straightened herself up and turned about to face him. "My rooms are on the other side of the courtyard," she told him, pulling her skirts down and giving him a quick kiss. "I can use a lusty lover… temporarily." Then she left the kitchen.
"I thought a man rode atop the woman," Glynn said as he and Dewi came forth from the chamber.
"Not always," Oth replied. "Have you had a woman yet, lad?"
Glynn nodded. "In Shrewsbury there's a girl who spreads her legs for a ha'penny. My friends at the school took me. I've been twice."
"And you liked it?" Oth questioned Glynn.
"Aye, 'tis why I went again," the young man replied.
A Memory of Love Page 21