But Bhrodi was as proud as a peacock with his lovely new wife as they made their way into the berg. Tacey was on a small and gentle palfrey, being led by Ianto, while Penelope rode at the head of the group with Bhrodi. Although she had a big gray charger she was very fond of, Bhrodi had shown some reluctance at her riding a war horse in such fine attire, so she reluctantly agreed to a gentle white mare. And she was hating every minute of it; she wondered if the torture and humiliation would ever end.
Her unhappiness faded as she became interested in the town around her. Welsh towns didn’t seem too different from English towns except they were speaking the very harsh Welsh language, which sounded like gibberish to her. When Bhrodi spoke to his teulu, it was in Welsh, and sometimes he spoke to Tacey in it as well. They were heading towards the center of town, near a big well and a stream that ran right through the middle of town, when Penelope finally asked him about his native language.
“Is Welsh your first language?” she asked him.
Bhrodi nodded as he reined his charger near the well where several women were doing their laundry. “Even though my father is English, I learned Welsh first,” he said. “I will teach it to you so that you and I may converse in it.”
Penelope looked dubious. “It sounds very difficult.”
He grinned as he dismounted his steed. “I do not think it is, but it is very different from your language,” he said. “For example, croeso means ‘welcome’. Welcome to Pendraeth.”
He was stretching his arm wide to indicate the village as he rounded his horse and moved to help her dismount. But Penelope had already leapt off the little mare, nearly tumbling when she stepped on the skirts she was not used to. Bhrodi grasped her by the elbow to steady her.
“Croeso,” Penelope repeated. “Welcome. What else?”
He cocked his head thoughtfully, watching Ianto lift Tacey off her horse and set her to her feet very carefully. He pointed to his sister.
“Chwaer,” he said, “means ‘sister’.”
“And brother?”
“Brawd.”
At this point, they were gazing steadily at one another and for the first time all day, Penelope’s mood seemed to be lightening considerably. Her personality seemed to be coming back as did the light in her eyes. Bhrodi smiled at her as she mouthed the words he had just taught her, whispering them as she rolled them over her tongue. When she caught his expression, she returned his smile.
“Mayhap I will allow you to teach me your language,” she said. “My mother speaks Gaelic constantly but I never learned. I do, however, speak French.”
He nodded his head. “As do I,” he said. “Often, there are men under my command that speak different languages. I must know them all if I am to tell them what to do.”
Penelope nodded, her smile fading. “In speaking of men under your command,” she said, “you do not think that my father will run into any trouble as he travels through Wales? That is to say, the trouble from last night will not follow him, will it? The men who are escorting him, your men, will see him through safely?”
He was surprised the question hadn’t come up sooner and he nodded as he began to lead her towards a small avenue near the well that seemed to be very busy. There were open merchant stalls, very tiny and crowded stalls, but very busy.
“My men will make sure your father makes it safely out of Anglesey,” he said. “English from the garrison at Caernarfon will be waiting to escort them the rest of the way. They should not run into any more trouble.”
Penelope could see that he was leading her towards a cluster of merchant stalls. “But what of the men last night who caused all of the trouble?” she asked. “Did you chase them away?”
Bhrodi’s smile, and his good mood, faded as he thought on the fate of those he thought were his friends. That ancient and horrible fate. “Nay,” he said after a moment. “I did not chase them away.”
Penelope took the news with some relief. “Then you imprisoned them,” she assumed and he did not correct her. “Excellent. I was fearful they would be lying in wait for my father.”
Bhrodi didn’t say anymore. He didn’t want to tell her what he did with those who had betrayed him, at least not now. It would be too much for her to bear when she was still emotionally fragile in this new world. He was about to change the subject when Tacey rushed up and latched onto Penelope’s hand.
“This is so exciting!” she gasped, her young face alight at all of the vendor stalls. “Where is the sweet vendor?”
Bhrodi pointed off into the cluster of stalls. “In there, somewhere,” he said. “We shall find him.”
Perhaps that was the truth, but Tacey wouldn’t wait. She tried to run ahead, pulling Penelope with her, but Bhrodi cautioned her to slow down. Tacey tried, but for a young girl who hadn’t been out of Rhydilian in over a year, she was wild with excitement. As they entered the busy avenue, Tacey spied a man with all manner of food about his stall. Letting go of Penelope’s hand, she ran towards the stall before her brother could stop her. He did, however, send Ianto after her so she wouldn’t get into any trouble. By the time the rest of the group caught up, Tacey already had two sweets in hand.
“This is a fruit pie,” Tacey said happily, indicating a big, brown, and fried piece of crust. “It has figs and raisins and apples in it. And this is a custard with rice and almonds. There is honey in it, too!”
She was indicating a small box made from dried grass that was filled with a lumpy white pudding. Bhrodi eyed the treats.
“Is this what you want?” he asked.
Tacey nodded eagerly. “I do!”
Bhrodi shrugged and indicated for Gwyllim, the keeper of the purse, to pay the merchant. As the man counted out the coins, Bhrodi turned to Penelope.
“Would you like sweets also?” he asked.
Penelope watched Tacey, so very happy with her treats. “Nay,” she said. “I have never been very fond of them.”
Bhrodi cocked an eyebrow as he took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his elbow. “Is that so?” he asked. “What are you fond of?”
Penelope snorted. “Great black ale that comes from Scotland,” she said.
He made a face. “Ale? God’s Blood, woman, must you be fond of a man’s drink?”
Penelope laughed softly as she allowed Bhrodi to lead her down the street. She was feeling better now, her depression lifting, and she was coming to enjoy Bhrodi’s company once again. The last time she had enjoyed being with him was last night before the attack in the hall. William had believed in Bhrodi’s innocence in the matter and, truth be told, she did, too. She never truly believed he had been behind it although, at the time, she hadn’t known what to think.
Now, she was feeling somewhat guilty for thinking the worst of him. He had, in truth, been trying very hard to be kind to her since the moment they met. He was still trying very hard as he helped her come to know her new world and she knew she wasn’t making it easy for him. As they passed by a blacksmith’s stall, she paused to look at the swords he was working on.
Bhrodi paused as well, watching her face as she watched the blacksmith. When she realized she was being watched, she smiled rather sheepishly at him.
“Sorry,” she said. “I have always been interested in metalworking. My father has allowed me to help the blacksmith at Castle Questing. I find the whole process fascinating.”
Bhrodi gazed at his beautiful wife, looking so elegant and womanly in her lavender gown. But it was coming to occur to him that it was going to take a lot of work to turn her from a knight into a true lady. He wondered if he would ever truly be able to do it. He wondered if he should even try. She seemed so uncomfortable in her fine clothes even if she looked delicious and he liked to see her in them. To see the woman dressed in tunics and leather was such a waste. Aye, her mother had said it best – he wanted a wife, not a knight, but he knew it would be a difficult transition.
“It is man’s work,” he finally said, his voice quiet. “I do not think I should
like to see my wife in the stalls, banging away on an anvil.”
Penelope laughed softly. “I would not do it if you did not give me permission,” she said, her gaze finding the half-finished swords again that the smithy was working on. “But… but I did lose my broadsword in the battle against the beast. I was hoping… well, I should like to have another one.”
Bhrodi pondered her request. It was the first one she’d truly made of him and he hated to deny her, but he didn’t want to encourage her either. He settled for a wink. “Mayhap you will be surprised with one at some point in the future,” he said, taking her elbow and pulling her gently along with him. “Come and look over here; there is a merchant who has traveled all over the world and he has some marvelous and mysterious things in his stall.”
As he’d hoped, Penelope was interested in the change of subject. “Like what?”
Tacey, full of sweets, was walking on ahead of them and had already reached the stall where the merchant carried all manner of amazing things. Bhrodi watched his sister pick up a beautiful silk veil.
“Anything you can imagine, I am sure,” he said as they arrived. “See if there isn’t something you would like to have.”
Penelope was hesitant but Tacey wasn’t; she plunged into the stall with the leaning roof and pulled Penelope in after her. There were so many items for sale that it was all quite crowded; fabric, veils, combs and mirrors, jewelry, and finally perfumes. Tacey, so very eager to shop, picked up a bronze comb and matching mirror. Made of polished bronze, she held it up to Penelope.
“You need this,” she declared. “You only have a horsehair brush and you have no mirror at all. You need a mirror.”
Penelope gazed into the mirror, seeing her clear reflection for the first time at close range. Certainly, her mother and sisters had mirrors, but she had never paid much attention to them. Now, she found herself gazing back at a beautiful woman with pale skin, a few freckles on her nose, wide hazel eyes, and delicately arched brows.
“You are beautiful,” Bhrodi murmured.
He was standing directly behind her, watching her as she inspected her reflection. Embarrassed, she went to set the mirror down but he grasped her wrist and forced her to hold it up in front of her face again. He continued admiring her for a moment, inspecting the face that was unlike any he had ever seen. My wife. Even as he thought it, the truth of the situation seemed unreal.
“You, there,” he said to the merchant. “Bring me those necklaces over there. Aye; those are the ones. I would try them on my wife.”
Penelope shook her head. “Please,” she whispered. “I do not want to….”
He cut her off though it was gently done. “Aye, you do,” he said softly, his hot breath on her ear creating shivers down her spine. “You wish to make your husband happy, and he is happy when he sees you in beautiful things. Let me do this, Penny. Please.”
He had called her Penny, sounding sweet and gentle coming from his lips. She’d never heard her name sound so tender, not even from her parents. With a sigh of resignation, she forced a smile as he had the merchant place necklace after necklace on her slender neck. All of them had precious stones, some were made of gold and some were made of silver. Some were chokers around her neck and some hung low between her breasts. All the while, Tacey was exclaiming how beautiful everything was, which made Penelope take a second look as the jewelry hung around her neck. She really never wore jewelry so she wasn’t particularly adept at knowing what was beautiful and what was gaudy. But very quickly she learned that she liked things that were simple in design. When the merchant hung a simple necklace of gold chain and purple stones, she liked it right away.
“That is quite nice,” she said, admiring it in the mirror.
“We shall take it,” Bhrodi said quickly. “It is the first thing she has liked and I’ll be damned if I am going to let it get away. Wrap it up for her.”
The merchant nodded, thrilled at the big sale, and went to package up the jewelry. Tacey, meanwhile, had set aside several different things and when she asked her brother if she could have them, a denial was perched on his lips until Penelope cast him a quick glance before inspecting all of the wonderful things.
“I think you deserve all of these,” she told Tacey. “The baby deserves some things, too, does he not? Did you pick out anything for him?”
Tacey instinctively put her hand on her big belly. She looked rather confused. “Your mother told me the things I would need,” she said. “She told me that babies need swaddling and pillows, and I do have blankets and pillows in my chamber.”
“For the baby?”
“They belong to me but I will share with him.”
Penelope glanced at Bhrodi with a rather worrisome expression. “The baby needs his own things,” she said, putting her hand on Tacey’s shoulder. “Didn’t my mother tell you that?”
Tacey was so young; a child having a child, and it was difficult for her to think of others over herself. The child was in her belly, that was true, but it still wasn’t real to her yet. Penelope knew that her mother and aunt had tried to tell Tacey things to expect with the baby, but it was clear the girl hadn’t absorbed much. She was only capable of thinking about herself at the moment. She was just too young to truly grasp the concept of what she was in for.
“He will share my things,” she said, looking at her brother as if he would confirm her decision. “Can I have these lovely items, please? The silks and the perfumes?”
Bhrodi sighed, looking at Penelope to see if he could read her expression. Penelope, however, didn’t give him much encouragement one way or the other; she had simply turned away to set down the mirror she had been holding. Without Penelope’s support, he went with his natural instinct.
“Nay,” he said. “You have enough fine things and any money I spend from now on will be for your son. He will be here in two months and we must start planning for him.”
Tacey’s features fell. “Like what?” she demanded. “He is just a baby. What does he need?”
“A bed,” Penelope said. “Does he even have one? He cannot sleep with you, you know. He is too tiny. He will need swaddling and blankets and clothing to wear. Does he have any of that?”
Tacey shook her head unsteadily. “Nay,” she said reluctantly. “I… I do not suppose he has any of those things.”
Penelope looked at Bhrodi. “Then that is what we must buy today,” she said. “Material for clothes for the baby and we must find a carpenter who can build him a bed.”
She seemed very determined about it, much as her mother had showed such determination in everything she did. But the fact was that Bhrodi couldn’t disagree with her; he was the first one to admit that he had been rather lax in taking care of his sister’s needs much less the baby’s needs. Therefore, he nodded his head.
“Then let us find these things,” he said, waving the women onward in the direction of the avenue. “My nephew must have something to wear and a place to sleep.”
Tacey was disappointed as she left the shop without any of her precious items, even more disappointed when Bhrodi collected the necklace he had purchased for his wife and handed it over to Gwyllim to keep safe. Tacey wished it was her necklace. Now, she wasn’t so excited about coming to town as she realized her brother would not be purchasing things for her; he would be purchasing things for the baby. She was jealous. Unhappy, she followed Penelope and Bhrodi down the avenue in their search for baby items.
It didn’t take long for them to find fleecy-soft lamb’s wool for the baby’s clothing and very soft linen for his swaddling. Penelope reckoned that any one of the women her mother had hired could sew, so she wasn’t worried about who would make the clothing. Tacey certainly couldn’t and even now as they moved down the muddy avenue, she was dragging behind, obviously pouting that she was not getting any pretty things.
Ivor and Yestin had gone off in search of a carpenter and had quickly located one on the next block. When Bhrodi told the man what they needed, the carpen
ter agreed to make a baby’s cradle and have it to Rhydilian Castle within a month. As Bhrodi was giving the man half of his payment, with the promise of the other half when the cradle was delivered, a wretched and low sound filled the air.
It was a startling sound, something between a moan and a hiss. It came from the direction they had just come from, the center of town, and they all turned to see a cluster of women who had come up behind them. The sound was coming from them.
“I heard you were in town, de Shera,” a woman wept loudly, pointing fingers at him. She was an older woman, finely dressed, and was surrounded by other ladies who evidently served her. They were all weeping and pointing. When she realized that she had Bhrodi’s attention, she screeched. “My husband went to your wedding yesterday and has not returned. I was told you killed everyone who attended! Well? Is this true?”
It was Tudur ap Gwyfn’s wife, Lady Ceridwen. Bhrodi knew the woman fairly well; she was from a powerful Welsh family and a woman of breeding, but at the moment, she was howling like a low-born wench. Given the complex circumstances of his wedding, he wasn’t about to engage her in a conversation about it much less a shouting match. Without a word, he turned away from her.
“Let us move down the street,” he said quietly to Penelope and Tacey.
He began to move with his teulu surrounding him, but ap Gwyfn’s wife would not be ignored. She followed.
“My servants told me that you had come into town,” she said, yelling after him. “I came to find you, de Shera. What have you done to my husband? You have punished him because he opposed your marriage to the Saesneg whore!”
Penelope’s knightly training kicked in; she was adept at covering her emotions when faced with a crisis, at least for the most part, but she did glance at Bhrodi to see how he was reacting. His features were tight as he kept walking. Tacey, however, kept turning around to look at the woman who was following them.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 297