“What brings you to this ship?” I said, trying to distract myself from my stomach. “Captain Morgan told me that you’d saved his daughter’s life. Why are you leaving England?”
“I may have saved her life, but I lost my wife and daughter in the same sickness.”
“I am so sorry!” I said. “How terrible for you!”
“Fortunately, Samuel, my son, was not with us and was spared.”
The silence stretched out and I was about to prompt him again, when he spoke. “I have worried about the status of Jewry in England for many years. King Henry took our money and allowed us a living, such as it was, but his son, Edward, stripped us of our wealth and standing. He has even closed the synagogues. Many refuse to see the danger, but I am free to make my way in the world. If a more hospitable land exists, I will try to find it.”
“And you think that might be Wales?” I said.
“Prince Llywelyn exhibits few of the excesses of his English cousins. He doesn’t persecute the Jews, and he himself is under the interdict of excommunication. He ignores this by worshipping among the Cistercians, who have no love for the Jews, I admit, but their rule is more tolerant than that of their English brethren.”
“I see,” I said, loving the formality of his vocabulary, and thinking of all the people who left Europe for America over the centuries for the freedom to practice their religion in peace. That was still over three hundred years in the future. Aaron’s decision to sail to Wales was only a first step.
Aaron tilted his head to one side as if curious. “For some reason, I believe you really do see. How is that possible?”
“It is one of things I can’t tell you right now, without having to lie,” I said. “And I am tired of lying.”
Aaron nodded and then looked more closely at me. “Your face is turning green. ” He said this if making an unimportant observation.
“I feel terrible.”
“Let us walk a little,” Aaron said. “Perhaps the captain would allow me on the deck to escort you to the side of the boat.”
I nodded and Aaron took my arm. We walked through the door and then a few paces to the left, trying to stay in the shelter of the slight overhang that protected us from the rain. I gripped the rail, but then saw with horror how enormous the waves had become. As the boat went up one wave and down another it seemed that a gulf opened at our feet.
“Madam! Have a care! And you!” Captain Morgan appeared with a glare for Aaron. “What are you thinking?”
“Sorry! Sorry!” Aaron held up his hands, palms outward. “My mistake.”
“Get yourselves back inside!” Captain Morgan grasped our arms and hauled us backwards from the rail and towards the cabin door. As the deck of the boat rose again, we fell into Aaron’s cabin and the Captain slammed the door behind us.
I found myself face down, my dress rucked up around my thighs. Fortunately, since I’d been riding astride during my journey, I wore leggings underneath.
I pushed to my hands and knees. “I hate the sea.”
“I can appreciate why,” Aaron said.
Laughter bubbled in my throat and then bile. I forced it back down. Everything that had happened over the last week threatened to overwhelm me all at once and I moaned. Aaron hooked his hand around my arm and helped me into the hammock. I rocked with the motion of the ship, listening to the rain pound on the roof and praying that I—and this little boat—could keep it together just a little longer.
Chapter Six
The storm worsened in the night. Aaron hung on to an iron ring in the floor, literally for dear life, while I rocked in the hammock. He tried to make conversation, but I felt so ill I could barely speak. He talked about his family, particularly of his older brother Jacob, who had been a trouble-maker as a boy. When I didn’t respond, even to his funnier stories, he began to recite one of his medical books from memory. In Latin.
At some point in the dark hours of the early morning, Captain Morgan reappeared. As he opened the door, the wind banged it back against the wall of the room so hard that it split in two. “Mistress! You must leave the ship with the youngsters among my crew. We are only a few miles from Wales but I can’t take the ship in to shore. The storm hasn’t lessened as I’d hoped and the wind is against us.”
Terror filled me, though there was something in Morgan’s eyes that made me think he was offering us the only hope he had, and would save none for himself. Without waiting for an answer, he half-dragged, half-carried me from the room, picking up Aaron by his upper arm on his way out the door.
“We will launch the dinghy,” Morgan said. “My crew will see you safe to Anglesey.”
I didn’t ask him what he was going to do, or if he honestly thought he would survive this. I’d lived in Wales for long enough—and been back in the Middle Ages for long enough—to understand that there were times when you didn’t question a man’s decision to face death head on.
“What about my books—?”
Aaron broke off his question at Morgan’s disbelieving look.
“We will find other books, Aaron,” I said. “ As rare as yours may be, they are not the only ones. Your life, however, is the only one you have.”
“Thank you, Madam,” Morgan said. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
Aaron acquiesced without asking me why I was so confident I could acquire new books for him. That would mean I’d have to tell him about Llywelyn, and not only was I not ready to do that, it would expose my own insecurities: What if Llywelyn didn’t want to see me? What if this world he’d created had no room for me in it?
We staggered across the deck, barely maintaining our feet on the rocking ship. The rain had soaked us instantly. Wave after wave crashed over the bow and we essentially fell over the rail of the ship when it was at its lowest point and into the dingy that rose up on the next wave to catch us. God, I hate boats. The four crewmen who would travel with us pushed away from the ship. I clung to Aaron’s arm.
“We’ll make it!” he said, but a moment later, the dingy met a driving wave exactly wrong and capsized, dumping us into the sea.
Amazingly, I bobbed up for air without my lungs full of water. “Aaron!” I spun around, searching for him, trying not to panic. Ideally, I hoped all survived the capsizing, but in the last hours, Aaron and I had become friends. I wanted him to be okay.
“I’m here.” He appeared beside me, struggling out of his heavy robes. We had loosened the ties on our cloaks in the dingy, knowing that if we ended up in the water, they would drag us down. As I ripped off my cloak and shoved it away from me, an abandoned oar floated past. I grabbed it. The rain pounded so hard I could barely see Aaron through the water streaming down my face, much less anyone else, or our lost boat.
“We’re not as far from shore as Morgan implied,” Aaron said.
“How do you know? I can’t see anything.” But just then a wave lifted me up and I saw the shore. It wasn’t close enough to touch, but it gave me hope.
“Can you swim?” Aaron said.
“Not well,” I said, scissor-kicking my legs even as I spoke. It was true. But I could swim, and at this point, I had no other choice. With one hand each on the oar, and the other helping paddle, we stroked and kicked, each wave lifting us and surging us closer to shore. The tide was bringing us in.
“Wake up, Margaret!” Aaron’s voice roused me. I hadn’t realized I was floating and no longer swimming.
“Okay,” I said, though he probably didn’t know what that meant. I began to kick again.
* * * * *
When I woke up, the sun was shining brightly in my face. I lay still a moment, feeling the heat on my closed lids, and then opened them. As is often the case after a storm in Wales, the sky above me was a bright blue, with a few scattered clouds, and gave no sign of the horrors of a few hours before. Experimentally, I moved a leg and then my arms. Bruises? Check. Aching muscles? Check. Seemingly nothing was broken, however. I eased into a sitting position. It hurt to move so much I choked out a laugh. I
will never, ever set foot on a boat again.
Around me, the beach was littered with refuse thrown up by the surf, mostly driftwood and seaweed, but here and there was a wine cask or the remains of a boat. But no Aaron.
With legs aching, I got to my feet. My clothes had dried in the sun but I could feel the salt and sand in my hair and a pass through it with my fingers told me it stuck up on end. I smoothed it the best I could. Llywelyn could be only a short walk away, if only I knew where I was.
And then I laughed at myself for my foolishness in thinking that Llywelyn would be anywhere near here, and that even if he were, he would want anything to do with me. I had left him and taken his child with me, even if unintentionally. That might not be something he could forgive.
I started walking down the beach, angling away from the water and towards the dunes in the distance. The morning sun shone bright in my eyes and I put up a hand to shade them. Some people had clustered on the edge of the beach and I peered towards them, hoping one was Aaron.
As I got closer, a man broke away and my heart leapt. It was Aaron. He was alive!
“Meg!” he said.
Aaron hiked up his robe and took off at a run towards me. I waved and veered towards him to meet him half-way between the dunes and the sea. Always wary of touching a gentile, Aaron ducked the hug I was about to throw at him and took my forearms decorously.
Then Aaron turned me towards two of his companions, who had followed him. The closer they came, the more my eyes watered. By the time they had taken ten steps, tears poured down my cheeks and blurred my vision.
“Oh, my God, it’s Mom.”
David stood before me, saying those words. David!
The sound of his voice released Anna and she raced across the beach towards me, her boots slipping in the sand. Sobbing, she threw herself into my arms and knocked me backwards. I held her, my cheek against her hair, rocking her as if she were a baby. She was my baby.
“Oh, my darling daughter.” I repeated the words over and over again. If I said them enough, I could believe that she was in my arms. Anna couldn’t stop crying, even when I took her face in my hands and kissed her eyes, trying to get her to stop.
“It’s okay. It’s me. I’m here.” I looked past Anna to David, who’d come to a halt five paces away, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing either. “And your brother too.” I held out one arm and he came into the circle of it. I embraced both my children for the first time in a year and a half.
“How did you get here?” Anna said.
I shook my head. “It’s a long story.” David’s shoulder muffled my voice. “I can’t believe you’re here, too. I didn’t let myself believe it might be possible.”
We hugged and rocked until the tightness in my chest loosened and I was able to relax my hold enough to look into my children’s faces.
“You must have been through a lot,” Anna said.
“Me?” I said, and laughed through my 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 my shoulders and looked at Anna over the top of my head. Over the top of my head! When I’d last seen him, we’d been same height.
Anna held tight to my hand as David herded us, along with a very bemused Aaron, back to where they’d left their horses.
“You mentioned that you had known the Prince many years ago,” Aaron said, “but I didn’t quite catch that you’d given him a son.”
“I couldn’t tell you and I didn’t want to lie,” I said, and left it at that.
A few steps further on, a man waited—tall, dark, and handsome, with the deep blue eyes of a Celt. Anna took the man’s hand and pulled him towards me. “This is my husband, Mom, Mathonwy ap Rhys Fychan.”
“I’m pleased to meet you, Madam,” Math said, his Welsh formal.
I stuck out my hand, as if meeting Anna’s husband was a perfectly normal thing to do, but then ruined it. “You’re married?” I blurted out the words before I could take them back. My hand went to my head before Math could shake 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, I melted again. I started crying and then Anna started crying, and we 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 and Aaron moved past us towards the horses and out of earshot.
Once again, Anna and I struggled to regain our composure, wiping at our cheeks with the backs of our hands.
“How long have you been back here?” The control in David’s voice told me he was determined to remain on an even keel. So like Llywelyn.
“Since the beginning of August,” I said. “I think.”
“How did you get back here?” Anna said, finally able to calm down enough to marshal her thoughts.
“By plane,” I said. “Near Hadrian’s Wall.”
“Hadrian’s Wall?” David said. “And you made it here all by yourself?”
“I had help,” I said, “most recently Aaron’s.”
“Hadrian’s Wall is a long way from here,” Anna said.
“It is,” David said. “Father is going to freak.”
Chapter Seven
I froze, my hand on David’s shoulder, my face like a frozen mask. “Father?” I wasn’t ready. I’d thought about him every waking moment since I came back to the Middle Ages, but I still wasn’t ready.
“He’s alive, Mom,” David said. “And he’s here, at Rhuddlan Castle.”
“Oh, David.” I put the back of my hand to my 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 …” I 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 he was your father?”
“I didn’t,” David said. “Father did though, the moment we arrived. We literally drove into his attackers at Cilmeri and saved him.”
“He went to Cilmeri?!” I couldn’t help it. My voice went high. “He went to Cilmeri on December 11th?”
“It’s okay, Mom,” Anna said, in a voice that said patience, and was probably one she’d heard from me a million times growing up. “He felt he had to, despite your warning.”
“He could have died!” I glared at David and then at Anna, and then she and I burst into tears again.
I could feel David staring at us in amazement, thinking they should be happy!
I turned to my son, my cheeks wet, blinking my 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.” I turned back to Anna. “You got married at what—eighteen?”
“Math’s a great guy, Mom,” David said. “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.
I stared at them for a second and then gave a laugh that was almost a bark. “See! Precisely my point!” And then, more thoughtfully, “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,” I 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,” I 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 nothin
g about anything that was important?”
I 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.”
I 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,” said Anna. “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.” My expression darkened.
“A lot worse!” Anna said. “Imagine if the English had captured us!”
More settled, at least for the moment, we walked back to the horses. David mounted his horse and pulled me up behind him. “So, how did you get from Hadrian’s Wall to Wales?” David turned the horse’s head and headed south, towards Rhuddlan. “Planes, trains, automobiles?”
“Try feet and horses,” I said. “And then, of course, the ship.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.” David said. “How bad was the seasickness?”
“That’s how I made friends with Aaron,” I 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 half an hour, we approached the castle. Every yard made me feel more sick to my stomach than I’d been on the boat. As we rode under the gatehouse, I glanced up to see a familiar figure standing at the top of one of the towers. Llywelyn looked down at me—and it felt like the whole world paused and took a breath.
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