Footsteps in Time

by Sarah Woodbury

  “Why should you have all the fun?” she said. “I need to get out and move around.”

  “Okay,” he said. “But I don’t think this is going to be fun.”

  “Yes,” Anna said. “I do realize that, but perhaps I can be of help.”

  In the nine months that Math and she had been married, they’d made a full circuit of the half dozen estates which he controlled, plus the two he held for Papa. Because many of the lands were in Deheubarth, they’d been lost in the years since 1277 and had only recently been regained.

  In each estate, Math had near total power, sitting as judge and jury in all disputes, overseeing the management of the land, and all-in-all acting as an almost-king. Anna, in turn, was a combination hostess, housekeeper, and substitute mother to the people who worked the land or served in the castle or manor. In the process, she found that everyone expected her to act as doctor when the herbalist wasn’t available. Anna had brought her satchel with clean bandages and a water sack. People on the beach this morning might need them.

  Rhuddlan Castle, which Papa had gladly made his main power base in north Wales, was a monstrosity, but at this point, one Anna could really get behind. Edward had built it after destroying the old castle—the one in which Papa had made his obeisance in 1277 to his humiliation. Now, if one were to use Mom’s terminology, the castle resembled ‘the finest example of Edwardian castle architecture ever constructed.’ They rode out of the main entrance at the northwest corner of the castle, above which flew both Papa’s banner and David’s.

  Because the ocean tended to throw its refuse on the beach east of the Clwyd estuary, they didn’t cross the river, but headed north along the river’s eastern bank until they reached the shore of the sea two and half miles downstream. When they arrived at the beach, even though it couldn’t have been more than six in the morning, a dozen people combed the shoreline for whatever the sea had thrown up.

  Anna dismounted where the cheat grass turned into beach, which, now that the tide was out, was a hundred feet deep. She let Dyfi’s reins trail and left her cropping the short grass on the landward side of a dune. As Anna faced the sea, the sun shone from behind her. Logs, broken pottery, and planks that perhaps had once been part of a ship littered the beach, but no bodies that she could see. Anna breathed in the sea air, and Math took her hand.

  “Let’s walk this way,” he said, pointing northeast.

  Anna lifted her skirt rather than let it trail in the wet sand and wished for sandals she could easily remove. They crunched along anyway, away from the other people, though behind her Anna could hear David making disposition of his men. It was nice to be alone with Math, with just the seagulls calling and the sound of the surf crashing on the shore. It was hard to believe that a storm had raged here in the night, driving men and boats into the deep. The beach narrowed as they went north, and they followed the shore around a mini-headland that bulged into the sea. Further on, the beach projected northeast again, and it was here that they finally saw the bodies.

  Five people lay in the sand, each contorted awkwardly. Anna and Math moved from man to man but all were beyond their help except for the one farthest down the beach whose arm moved as Anna reached him. He had brown hair and beard and wore a long robe. She dropped to her knees beside him and as her shadow loomed over him, he opened his eyes. Crow’s feet showed in the corners of his eyes as he smiled up at Anna.

  “It’s you,” he said, in English, and then blinked. Anna sat back on her heels, surprised, and he pushed himself up on his elbows.

  “How do you feel?” Anna said in the same language, uncertain of who he was or what he’d meant.

  He blinked again, tipping his head to one side as he studied her. “I apologize, my lady. I mistook you for someone else.” He turned his head from left to right, surveying the beach, but nobody moved along it. The man pushed to his knees, and then stood, swaying, so that Math reached out and caught his elbow to hold him steady.

  “I’m Math ap Rhys Fychan,” Math said carefully, also in English, “the prince’s nephew, and this is my wife, Anna.”

  “Aaron ben Simon, a physician, at your service,” the man said.

  Math nodded, but continued in Welsh while Anna translated for Aaron. “Can you walk with us down the beach? Our horses are near and we can provide you with lodging at Rhuddlan Castle until you’re well enough to make your way elsewhere.”

  “Rhuddlan, is it?” Aaron looked away, his brow furrowed, focusing first on the water and then again on the beach around him.

  “Is something wrong?” Anna said. “Beyond the obvious, that is?”

  “I had a companion, a friend who journeyed on the ship with me. We were thrown into the water together, but the sea pulled us apart as we neared shore. I’d hoped that she too reached land safely, but I don’t see her.”

  “I’m sorry,” Anna said, not knowing what else to say.

  He nodded and bowed his head, obviously troubled. Math took his arm and the trio walked back around the headland to where David was waiting with the horses.

  “Four dead men lie further up the beach,” Math said. “This is Aaron, a Jewish physician. I’ve offered him refuge in the castle.”

  “Good,” David said.

  Aaron had bowed when he heard his name spoken, but Anna didn’t think he understood the rest of the Welsh, so she reverted to English.

  “Please meet my brother, David, Prince Llywelyn’s son.”

  “My lord!” Aaron bowed deeply. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  “I’m sorry it’s necessary, but you are welcome to stay as long as you need,” David said. “Was Wales your original destination, or Ireland?”

  “Wales,” Aaron said, “though I’d not intended to arrive as destitute as the storm has left me.”

  “Do you have family here, or someone who is awaiting word of your arrival?” Anna said.

  Aaron shook his head. “My wife and daughter died some years ago. I have a son, Samuel, who remains in England.”

  “Then why Wales?” David said.

  Aaron couldn’t mistake his tone, and hurried to explain. “People of my faith are no longer welcome in England, my lord. I’d heard that Wales might be more obliging.” He kept his head bowed, not looking at David.

  David gazed down at him and then looked at Anna. “You heard right.”

  Aaron’s head popped up. “I am relieved to hear it. Please allow me to be of service to you, or your father.”

  “We can always use a physician,” David said.

  “So my companion assured me,” Aaron said.

  “Companion?” David said.

  But Aaron was looking toward the sea again, and this time he appeared to find what he was looking for, because he took several steps away from David. A small figure—a woman—moved along the beach, coming from the river. Aaron hesitated, peering into the distance and squinting.

  “Meg!” he said.

  Aaron hiked up his robe and took off at a run towards the woman. She waved and veered toward him. They met half-way up the beach, each taking the other’s arms in a decorous hug. Aaron then turned her towards David and Anna. The closer they got, the more Anna’s eyes watered; tears poured down her cheeks and blurred her vision.

  “Oh my God, it’s Mom.” David choked.

  His words released Anna and she raced across the beach, her boots slipping in the sand. Sobbing, Anna threw herself at her mother and knocked her backwards. Mom held her, her cheek against Anna’s hair, rocking her as if she were a baby.

  “Oh, my darling daughter,” she repeated over and over. Anna couldn’t stop crying, even when her mother took her face in her hands and kissed her eyes, trying to get Anna to stop. “It’s okay. It’s me. I’m here.” Mom looked past Anna to David, who’d come to a halt five paces away, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “And your brother too.” Mom held out one arm and he came into the circle of it.

  “How did you get here?” Anna said.

  Mom shook he
r head. “Same as always. I can’t believe you’re here too. I didn’t let myself believe it.” David’s shoulder muffled Mom’s voice.

  They hugged and rocked until the tightness in Anna’s chest loosened and she was able to relax her hold enough to look into her mother’s face. “You must have been through a lot.”

  “Me?” Mom laughed through her tears. “What about you? Have you been here all this time?”

  “We have,” David said. “Let’s get you home.” He put his arm around his mother’s shoulder and looked at Anna over the top of her head. When they’d last seen their mother, she and David had been same height. Anna held tight to her mother’s hand as David herded them, along with a very bemused Aaron, back to where they’d left the horses.

  “You mentioned that you had known the prince many years ago,” Aaron commented, “but I didn’t quite catch that you’d given him a son.”

  “I couldn’t tell you,” Mom said.

  A few steps further on, Math waited to be introduced. Anna took his hand and pulled him to her mother. “This is my husband, Mom. Mathonwy ap Rhys Fychan.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Madam,” Math said, in his most formal Welsh.

  Mom stuck out her hand, as if meeting Anna’s husband was a perfectly normal thing to do, but then ruined it. “You’re married?” Her hand went to her head before Math could take it. “How can you be married?”

  Anna tightened her grip on Math’s other hand. “I’m sorry you missed it, Mom, but well ... you weren’t here.”

  With that, Mom melted again. She started crying; then Anna started crying, and they fell into each other’s arms. Math kissed the top of Anna’s head and patted her on the shoulder. “We’ll leave you a moment.” He tipped his head to Aaron who moved past them towards the horses and out of earshot.

  Once again, Anna struggled to regain her composure, wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands.

  “How long have you been back here?” David said. The control in his voice told Anna he was determined to remain on an even keel.

  “Beginning of August,” Mom said.

  “How did you get back here?” Anna said, finally able to calm down enough to marshal her thoughts.

  “By plane,” Mom said.

  Plane? Hadn’t I just dreamed of a plane?

  “Near Hadrian’s Wall.”

  “Hadrian’s Wall?” David said. “And you made it here all by yourself?”

  “I had help,” Mom said, “most recently Aaron’s.”

  “Hadrian’s Wall is a long way from here,” Anna said.

  “It is,” David agreed. “Father is going to freak.”

  Chapter Two

  David

  Mom froze, her hand on David’s shoulder, her face still. “Father?”

  “He’s alive, Mom,” David said. “And he’s here, at Rhuddlan.”

  “Oh, David.” Mom put the back of her hand to her mouth. “I didn’t dare...I mean, I hardly dared to even think that he might be, that I might be able to see him again. So you think...” She stopped.

  “Do I think he’ll want to see you?” David said. “Yeah, I know he will.”

  “But how did you ... how did you find him? How did you know?”

  “We didn’t,” David said. “Father did, the moment we arrived. We literally drove into his attackers at Cilmeri and saved him.”

  “He went to Cilmeri?!” Mom’s voice went high. “He went to Cilmeri on December 11th?”

  “It’s okay, Mom,” Anna said, trying to calm her down. “He felt he had to, despite your warning.”

  “He could have died!” Mom glared at David and then at Anna, and then the two women burst into tears again.

  All David could do was stare at them in amazement. They should be happy! Two of the smartest, most independent-minded women in all of Wales, both of whom had managed to trek miles and miles across unfamiliar terrain, surviving entirely on courage and nerves, were falling to pieces again.

  Mom turned to David, her cheeks wet, blinking her eyes to rid them of tears. “This is too much to take in. You were a child last time I saw you, David, and now you are grown and Anna is married.” She turned back to Anna. “You got married at what? Seventeen? Eighteen?!”

  David tried injecting rationality into the proceedings. “Math’s a great guy, Mom. He can’t believe how lucky he is to have her; and the marriage secures a beneficial alliance for Father. It’s all worked out really well.”

  “Besides, I’m nineteen now,” Anna said.

  Mom stared at them for a second and then gave a laugh that was almost a bark. “See! Precisely my point!” And then, more thoughtfully, she said, “Does Math know where you’re from?”

  Anna nodded. “He knows, but I think he’s just beginning to believe.”

  “It’s always been impossible to believe,” Mom said. “And I’m living it.”

  “Math is pretty grounded in the here and now,” David said. “He told me that if Anna looks Welsh, speaks Welsh, and is acknowledged as Welsh by the Prince of Wales, that is good enough for him.”

  “I guess there is something to be said for that,” Mom said. “We will need hard-headed and practical people in the new Wales.”

  “Don’t you remember when you came to Wales the first time?” Anna said. “Do you remember what it was like trying to find your way when you didn’t speak the language and knew nothing about anything that was important?”

  Mom sighed. “I do remember. I remember very well. If not for Llywelyn, I don’t know that I would have survived. Before I knew it, we were in love and I was pregnant with David. I managed to bypass most of the trauma by ignoring it.”

  “We couldn’t ignore it, Mom,” Anna said. “It was all so awful at first.”

  Mom nodded. “I know, sweetheart. That you’re standing in front of me, whole and happy, tells me that you and David have done remarkably well, at a much younger age than I was.”

  “We did have each other,” Anna said.

  “And we also had Father who knew who we were from the start,” David said.

  “It would have been different if we’d appeared in Cilmeri and not killed Papa’s attackers,” Anna said. “Imagine trying to make your way in Wales with no help from anyone. We could have starved to death. David could have ended up a stable boy, and me a scullery maid.”

  “Or worse.” Mom’s expression darkened.

  “A lot worse!” Anna said. “Imagine if the English had captured us!”

  More settled, at least for the moment, they walked back to the horses. David mounted Taranis and pulled Mom up behind him. “So, how did you get from Hadrian’s Wall to Wales?” David turned Taranis, heading south to the castle. “Planes, trains, automobiles?”

  “Try feet and horses,” she said. “And then, of course, the ship.”

  “Oh, Mom.” David said. “How bad was the seasickness?”

  “That’s how I made friends with Aaron,” she said. “He gave me a concoction to settle my stomach, which helped, and then he kept me distracted from my stomach by stories of his family. In the end, though, it didn’t make any difference since the storm broke up the boat and dumped us into the sea.”

  Within a few minutes, they approached Rhuddlan Castle. Mom got very quiet. As they rode in under the gatehouse, David glanced up to see a familiar figure standing at the top of one of the towers. Father looked down at them—and it felt like the whole world paused and took a breath.

  “Llywelyn,” Mom gripped the back of David’s cloak. “I look terrible! My hair, my clothes are full of salt. I don’t even have shoes. He can’t see me like this.”

  David ignored her, not dignifying her concerns with a response. As if Father will care about those things. He didn’t know if Father knew what he was seeing, but he left the battlements the instant they arrived and reappeared at ground level so fast he must have run most of the way. He crossed the bailey with his characteristic long stride, his head steady and his eyes fixed on Mom, and then halted at her knee. He reached
for her and she slid into his arms.

  “I never meant to leave you, Llywelyn.” She shook her head. “I didn’t want to keep your son from you.”

  He didn’t dignify that with a response either. Llywelyn slipped one arm around her waist and brought her close to him while threading his other hand through her hair. “I never for a moment thought you did,” he said, and kissed her.

  * * * * *

  “So what’s the story, Mom?” Anna had whisked her mother off to her room to get cleaned up and into proper clothes and now everyone was back together, ready to listen to what Mom had to say. Seating himself behind his desk, Father pulled up a chair for Mom beside him and waved Math, Anna, and David to a bench on the other side of the table.

  “I spoke with my priest,” Father said without preamble, “and he sees no reason why we can’t get married tomorrow. It’s not like we have any consangual relationships.”

  “None among your advisors will object, Father?” David said.

  “Marged’s return is more than they ever dared hope for. Our marriage will secure your legitimacy in the eyes of the Pope and the English nobility, if and when the interdict is lifted.”

  Mom narrowed her eyes at David and spoke in English. “Has he asked me to marry him, or is he just assuming I will?”

  “Assuming, I think. You will marry him, won’t you?” David held his breath, against the chance, even after all this, that she’d say no.

  “Of course,” she said. “I just wondered.”

  “What are you saying?” Father said, obviously disgruntled at all the English.

  “I’m sorry, my lord,” Mom said in Welsh, laughing. “I asked David if I’d heard correctly. Am I right that you are asking me to marry you? Because it wasn’t entirely clear.”

  Father swore and thumped his fist on the desk. “You try me, woman!” Events were way out of control for him and his talking to the priest had been an attempt to get things back on track.

  Mom studied him. “You’re still excommunicate, then.”