The Lord of Dynevor: A Tale of the Times of Edward the First

by Evelyn Everett-Green

  CHAPTER VIII. TURBULENT SPIRITS.

  The four sons of Res Vychan went back to Dynevor together, there tosettle down, outwardly at least, to a quiet and uneventful life, chieflydiversified by hunting and fishing, and such adventures as areinseparable from those pastimes in which eager lads are engrossed.

  Wendot both looked and felt older for his experiences in the castle ofRhuddlan. His face had lost much of its boyishness, and had taken athoughtfulness beyond his years. Sometimes he appeared considerablyoppressed by the weight of the responsibility with which he had chargedhimself, and would watch the movements and listen to the talk of thetwins with but slightly concealed uneasiness.

  Yet as days merged into weeks, and weeks lengthened into months, andstill there had been nothing to alarm him unduly, he began, as theinclement winter drew on, to breathe more freely; for in the wintermonths all hostilities of necessity ceased, for the mountain passes werealways blocked with snow, and both travelling and fighting werepractically out of the question for a considerable time.

  Wendot, too, had matters enough to occupy his mind quite apart from thecharge of his two haughty brothers. He had his own estates to administer-- no light task for a youth not yet eighteen -- and his large householdto order; and though Griffeth gave him every help, Llewelyn and Howelstood sullenly aloof, and would not appear to take the least interest inanything that appertained to Dynevor, although they gave no reason fortheir conduct, and were not in other ways unfriendly to their brothers.

  The country was for the time being quiet and at peace. Exhausted by itsown internal struggles and by the late disastrous campaign against theEnglish, the land was, as it were, resting and recruiting itself, inpreparation, perhaps, for another outbreak later on. In the meantime,sanguine spirits like those of Wendot and Griffeth began to cherishhopes that the long and weary struggle was over at last, and that thenation, as a nation, would begin to realize the wisdom and the advantageof making a friend and ally of the powerful monarch of England, insteadof provoking him to acts of tyranny and retaliation by perpetual andfruitless rebellions against a will far too strong to be successfullyresisted.

  But Llewelyn and Howel never spoke of the English without words andlooks indicative of the deepest hatred; and the smouldering fire intheir breasts was kept glowing and burning by the wild words and thewilder songs of the old bard Wenwynwyn, who spent the best part of histime shut up in his own bare room, with his harp for his companion, inwhich room Llewelyn and Howel spent much of their time during the darkwinter days, when they could be less and less out of doors.

  Since that adventure of the Eagle's Crag, Wendot had distrusted the oldminstrel, and was uneasy at the influence he exercised upon the twins;but the idea of sending him from Dynevor was one which never for amoment entered his head. Had not Wenwynwyn grown old in his father'sservice? Had he not been born and bred at Dynevor? The young lordhimself seemed to have a scarce more assured right to his place therethan the ancient bard. Be he friend or be he foe, at Dynevor he mustremain so long as the breath remained in his body.

  The bard was, by hereditary instinct, attached to all the boys, but oflate there had been but little community of thought between him and hisyoung chieftain. Wendot well knew the reason. The old man hated theEnglish with the bitter, unreasoning, deadly hatred of his wild,untutored nature. Had he not sprung from a race whose lives had beenspent in rousing in the breasts of all who heard them the most ferventand unbounded patriotic enthusiasm? And was it to be marvelled at thathe could not see or understand the changes of the times or thehopelessness of the long struggle, now that half the Welsh nobles weregrowing cool in the national cause, and the civilization and wealth ofthe sister country were beginning to show them that their own conditionleft much to be desired, and that there was something better and higherto be achieved than a so-called liberty, only maintained at the cost ofperpetual bloodshed? or a series of petty feuds for supremacy, whichwent far to keep the land in a state of semi-barbarism?

  So the old bard sang his wild songs, and Llewelyn and Howel sat by theglowing fire of logs that blazed in the long winter evenings upon hishearth, listening to his fierce words, and hardening their hearts andbracing their wills against any kind of submission to a foreign yoke. Aburning hatred against the English king also consumed them. Had theynot, at the cost of most bitter humiliation, gone to him as vassals,trusting to his promise that all who did homage for their lands shouldbe confirmed in peaceful possession of the same? And how had he treatedthis act of painful submission? Was it greatly to be wondered at thattheir hearts burned with an unquenchable hatred? To them Edward stood asthe type of all that was cruel and treacherous and grasping. Theybrooded over their wrongs by day and by night; they carried their darklooks with them when they stirred abroad or when they rested at home.Wenwynwyn sympathized as none besides seemed to do, and he became theirgreat solace and chief counsellor.

  Wendot might uneasily wonder what passed in that quiet room of the oldman's, but he never knew or guessed. He would better have liked to hearLlewelyn burst forth into the old passionate invective. He was uneasy atthis chronic state of gloom and sullen silence on the vexed question ofEnglish supremacy. But seldom a word passed the lips of either twin.They kept their secret -- if secret they had -- locked away in their ownbreasts. And days and weeks and months passed by, and Wendot andGriffeth seemed almost as much alone at Dynevor as they had been aftertheir father's death, when Llewelyn and Howel had betaken themselves totheir castle of Carregcennen.

  But at least, if silent and sullen, they did not appear to entertain anyplan likely to raise anxiety in Wendot's mind as to the pledge he hadgiven to the king. They kept at home, and never spoke of Iscennen, andas the winter passed away and the spring began to awaken the world fromher long white sleep, they betook themselves with zest to their pastimeof hunting, and went long expeditions that sometimes lasted many days,returning laden with spoil, and apparently in better spirits from thebracing nature of their pursuits.

  Griffeth, who had felt the cold somewhat keenly, and had been droopingand languid all the winter, picked up strength and spirit as the daysgrew longer and warmer, and began to enjoy open-air life once more.

  Wendot was much wrapped up in this young brother of his, who had alwaysbeen dearer to him than any being in the world besides.

  Since he had been at death's door with the fever, Griffeth had neverrecovered the robustness of health which had hitherto been thecharacteristic of the Dynevor brothers all their lives. He was activeand energetic when the fit was on him, but he wearied soon of any activesport. He could no longer bound up the mountain paths with the fleetnessand elasticity of a mountain deer, and in the keen air of the higherpeaks it was difficult for him to breathe.

  Still in the summer days he was almost his former self again, or soWendot hoped; and although Griffeth's lack of rude health hindered bothfrom joining the long expeditions planned and carried out by the twins,it never occurred to Wendot to suspect that there was an ulterior motivefor these, or to realize how unwelcome his presence would have been hadhe volunteered it, in lieu of staying behind with Griffeth, andcontenting himself with less adventurous sports.

  Spring turned to summer, and summer to autumn, and life at Dynevorseemed to move quietly enough. Griffeth took a fancy to book learning --a rare enough accomplishment in those days -- and a monk from the Abbeyof Strata Florida was procured to give him instruction in the obscurescience of reading and writing. Wendot, who had a natural love of study,and who had been taught something of these mysteries by his mother --she being for the age she lived in a very cultivated woman -- shared hisbrother's studies, and delighted in the acquirement of learning.

  But this new development on the part of the Lord of Dynevor and hisbrother seemed to divide them still more from the two remaining sons ofRes Vychan; and the old bard would solemnly shake his head and predictcertain ruin to the house when its master laid aside sword for pen, andlooked for counsel to the monk and missal instead of to his good right
hand and his faithful band of armed retainers.

  Wendot and Griffeth would smile at these dark sayings, and loved theirstudies none the less because they opened out before them some betterunderstanding of the blessings of peace and culture upon a world harriedand exhausted with perpetual, aimless strife; but their more enlightenedopinions seemed but to widen the breach between them and their brothers,and soon they began to be almost strangers to each other.

  Wendot and Griffeth regretted this without seeing how to mend matters.They felt sorry for Llewelyn and Howel, deprived of the employments andauthority they had enjoyed of late, and would have gladly given them ashare of authority in Dynevor; but this they would not accept, drawingmore and more away into themselves, and sharing their confidences withno one except Wenwynwyn.

  The summer was now on the wane, and the blustering winds of the equinoxhad begun to moan about the castle walls. The men were busy getting inthe last of the fruits of the earth and storing them up against thewinter need, whilst the huntsmen brought in day by day stores of venisonand game, which the women salted down for consumption during the longdreary days when snow should shut them within their own walls, and nofresh meat would be obtainable.

  It was a busy season, and Wendot had time and mind alike full. He heededlittle the movements of his brothers, whom he thought engrossed in thepleasures of the chase. He was not even aware that old Wenwynwyn wasabsent for several days from the castle, for since the estrangementbetween him and the old man he was often days at a time withoutencountering him.

  Llewelyn and Howel were visibly restless just now. They did not go farfrom the castle, nor did they seem interested in the spoil the huntersbrought home. But they spent many long hours in the great gallery wherethe arms of the retainers were laid up, and their heads were often to beseen close together in deep discussion, although if any person came nearto disturb them they would spring asunder, or begin loudly discussingsome indifferent theme.

  They were in this vast, gloomy place, sitting together in the deepembrasure of one of the narrow windows as the daylight began to fail,when suddenly they beheld Wenwynwyn stalking through the long gallery asif in search of them, and they sprang forward to greet him withunconcealed eagerness.

  "Thou hast returned."

  "Ay, my sons, I have returned, and am the bearer of good news. But thisis not the place to speak. Stones have ears, and traitors abound even inthese hoary walls which have echoed to the songs of the bard for moreyears than man can count. Ah, woe the day; ah, woe the falling off! ThatI should live to see the sons of Dynevor thus fall away -- the youngeaglets leaving their high estate to grovel with the carrion vulture andthe coward crow! Ah! in old days it was not so. But there are yet thoseof the degenerate race in whom the spirit of their fathers burns. Come,my sons -- come hither with me. I bring you a message from Iscennen thatwill gladden your hearts to hear."

  The boys pressed after him up the narrow, winding stair that led to theroom the bard called his own. It was remote from the rest of the castle,and words spoken within its walls could be heard by none outside. It wasa place that had heard much plotting and planning ere now, and what wasto be spoken tonight was but the sequel of what had gone before.

  "Speak, Wenwynwyn, speak!" cried the twins in a breath. "Has he returnedthither?"

  "Ay, my sons; he has come back in person to receive his 'dues,' and tolook into all that has passed in his absence. These eyes have seen thefalse, smiling face of the usurper, who sits in the halls which haverung to the sound of yon harp in days when the accursed foot of thestranger would have been driven with blows from the door. He is there,and --"

  "And they hate and despise and contemn him," cried Llewelyn in wildexcitement. "Every man of Iscennen is his foe. Do not I know it? Have wenot proved it? There is no one but will rise at the sound of my trumpet,to follow me to victory or death.

  "Wenwynwyn, speak! thou hast bid us wait till the hour has come till allthings be ripe for action. Tell us, has not that hour come? Hast thounot come to bid us draw the sword, and wrest our rightful inheritancefrom the hand of the spoiler and alien?"

  "Ay, verily, that hour has come," cried the old bard, with a wildgesture. "The spoiler is there, lurking in his den. His eyes are rovinground in hungry greed to spoil the poor man of his goods, to wrest theweapon from the strong. He is fearful in the midst of his state --fearful of those he calls his vassals -- those he would crush with hisiron glove, and wring dry even as a sponge is wrung. Ay, the hour iscome. The loyal patriots have looked upon your faces, my sons, and seein you their liberators. Go now, when the traitor whose life you savedis gloating over his spoil in his castle walls. Go and show him what itis to rob the young lions of their prey; show him what it is to strivewith eagles, when only the blood of the painted jay runs in his cravenveins. Saw I not fear, distrust, and hatred in every line of that smoothface? Think you that he is happy in the possession of what he sold hissoul to gain? Go, and the victory will be yours. Go; all Iscennen willbe with you. Wenwynwyn has not sung his songs in vain amongst thosehardy people! He has prepared the way. Go! victory lies before you."

  The boys' hearts swelled within them at these words. It was not fornothing that they, with their own faithful followers, sworn to secrecy,had absented themselves again and again from Dynevor Castle on thepretence of long hunting expeditions. It was true that they had huntedgame, that they had brought home abundance of spoil with them; butlittle had Llewelyn or Howel to do with the taking of that prey. Theyhad been at Iscennen; they had travelled the familiar tracks once again,and had found nothing but the most enthusiastic welcome from their ownpeople, the greatest hatred for the foreign lordling, who had beenfoisted upon them by edict of the king.

  Truly Raoul Latimer had won but a barren triumph in gaining for himselfthe lands of Iscennen. A very short residence there had proved enoughfor him, and he had withdrawn, in fear that if he did not do so somefatal mischance would befall him. He had reigned there as an absenteeever since, not less cursed and hated for the oppressive measures takenin his name than when he had been the active agent.

  Matters were ripe for revolt. There only wanted the time and theoccasion. The leader was already to hand -- the old lord, young inyears, Llewelyn ap Res Vychan, and Howel his brother. With the twins attheir head, Iscennen would rise to a man; and then let Raoul Latimerlook to himself! For the Welsh, when once aroused to strike, struckhard; and it cannot be denied that they ofttimes struck treacherouslybeside.

  Small wonder if, as Wenwynwyn declared, young Raoul had found but smallsatisfaction in his visit to his new estate, and lived upon it in terrorof his very life, though surrounded by the solid walls of his own castle.

  The hour had come. Llewelyn and Howel were about to taste the keen joyof revenging themselves upon a foe they hated and abhorred, about totake at least one step towards reinstating themselves in their ancestralhalls. But the second object was really less dear to them than thefirst. If the hated Raoul could be slain, or made to fly in ignominy anddisgrace, they cared little who reigned in his place. Their own tenureat Carregcennen under existing circumstances they knew to be mostinsecure, and although they had organized and were to lead the attack,they were to do so disguised, and those who knew the share they were totake were pledged not to betray it.

  Loose as had grown the bond between the brothers of late, the twins werenot devoid of a certain rude code of honour of their own, and had nowish to involve Wendot in ruin and disgrace. He was surety for theirgood behaviour, and if it became known to Edward that they had led theattack on one of his English subjects, Dynevor itself might pay theforfeit of his displeasure, and Wendot might have to answer with hislife, as he had offered to do, for his brothers. Thus, though thisconsideration was not strong enough to keep the twins from indulgingtheir ungovernable hatred to their foe, it made them cautious aboutopenly appearing in the matter themselves; and when, upon a wild,blustering night not many days later, a little band of hardy Welshmen,all armed to the teeth, crept with the silent caution
of wild beastsalong a rocky pathway which led by a subterranean way, known only toLlewelyn and Howel, into the keep of the castle itself; none would haverecognized in the blackened faces of the two leaders, covered, as theyappeared to be, with a tangled growth of hair and beard, thecountenances of the sons of Res Vychan; whilst the stalwart, muscularfigures seemed rather to belong to men than lads, and assisted thedisguise not a little.

  The hot-headed but by no means intrepid young Englishman, who had nothad the courage to remain long in the possessions he had coveted, andwho was fervently wishing that this second visit was safely over, wasaroused from his slumbers by the clash of arms, and by the terrifiedcries of the guard he always placed about him.

  "The Welsh wolves are upon us!" he heard a voice cry out in thedarkness. "We are undone -- betrayed! Every man for himself! They aremurdering every soul they meet."

  In a passion of rage and terror Raoul sprang from his bed, and commencedhurrying into his clothes as fast as his trembling hands would allowhim. In vain he called to his servants; they had every man of them fled.Below he heard the clash of arms, and the terrible guttural cries withwhich the Welsh always rushed into battle, and which echoed through thehalls of Carregcennen like the trump of doom.

  It was a terrible moment for the young Englishman, alone, half-armed,and at the mercy of a merciless foe. He looked wildly round for somemeans of escape. The tread of many feet was on the stairs. To attemptresistance was hopeless. Flight was the only resource left him, and in amad impulse of terror he flung himself on the floor, and crept beneaththe bed, the arras of which concealed him from sight. There he laypanting and trembling, whilst the door was burst open and armed men cameflocking in.

  "Ha, flown already!" cried a voice which did not seem entirelyunfamiliar to the shivering youth, though he could not have said exactlyto whom it belonged, and was in no mood to cudgel his brains on the subject.

  He understood too little of the Welsh tongue to follow what was said,but with unspeakable relief he heard steps pass from the room; for evenhis foes did not credit him with the cowardice which would drive a manto perish like a rat in a hole rather than sword in hand like a knightand a soldier.

  The men had dashed out, hot in pursuit, believing him to be attemptingescape through some of the many outlets of the castle; and Raoul, stillshivering and craven, was just creeping out from his hiding place,resolved to try to find his way to the outer world, when he uttered agasp and stood or rather crouched spellbound where he was; for, standingbeside a table on which the dim light of a night candle burned, bindingup a gash in his arm with a scarf belonging to the Englishman, was atall, stalwart, soldierly figure, that turned quickly at the sound madeby the wretched Raoul.

  "Spare me, spare me!" cried the miserable youth, as the man with a quickmovement grasped his weapon and advanced towards him.

  He did not know if his English would be understood, but it appeared tobe, for the reply was spoken in the same tongue, though the words hadstrong Welsh accent.

  "And wherefore should I spare you? What have you done that we ofIscennen should look upon you as other than a bitter foe? By what rightare you here wringing our life blood from us? Why should I not stamp themiserable life out of you as you lie grovelling at my feet? Wales werewell quit of such craven hounds as you."

  "Spare me, and I renounce my claim. I swear by all that is holy that ifyou will but grant me my life I will repair to the king's court withoutdelay, and I will yield up to him every claim which I have on theselands. I swear it by all that is holy in heaven and earth."

  "And what good shall we reap from that? We shall but have anotherEnglish tyrant set over us. Better kill thee outright, as a warning toall who may come after."

  But Raoul clasped the knees of his foe, and lifted his voice again inpassionate appeal.

  "Kill me not; what good would that do you or your cause? I tell you itwould but raise Edward's ire, and he would come with fire and sword todevastate these lands as I have never done. Listen, and I will tell youwhat I will do. Spare but my life, and I will entreat the king torestore these lands to your feudal lords, Llewelyn and Howel ap ResVychan. It was by my doing that they were wrested from them. I confessit freely now. Grant me but my life, and I will undo the work I havedone. I will restore to you your youthful chiefs. Again I swear it; andI have the ear of his Grace. If thou hast thy country's cause at heartthou wilt hear me in this thing. I will give you back the lords you alllove. I will trouble you no more myself. I would I had never seen thisevil place. It has been nought but a curse to me from the day it wasbestowed."

  The man uttered a harsh laugh, and stood as if considering. Raoul, whoseeyes never left the shining blade his foe held suspended in his hand,pleaded yet more and more eloquently, and, as it seemed, with someeffect, for the soldier presently sheathed his weapon, and bid thewretched youth rise and follow him. Raoul obeying, soon found himself inthe presence of a wild crew of Welsh kerns, who were holding highrevelry in the banqueting hall, whilst his own English servants --those, at least, who had not effected their escape -- lay dead upon theground, the presence of bleeding corpses at their very feet doingnothing to check the savage mirth and revelry of the victors, who hadbeen joined by the whole of the Welsh garrison, only too glad of anexcuse for rising against the usurper.

  A silence fell upon the company as the dark-bearded soldier marched hiscaptive into the hall, the yell of triumph being hushed by commandinggesture from the captor. A long and unintelligible debate followed,Raoul only gathering from the faces of those present what were theirfeelings towards him. He stood cowering and quaking before that fierceassembly -- a pitiful object for all eyes. But at length his captorbriefly informed him that his terms were accepted: that if he wouldwrite his request to the king and obtain its fulfilment, he should gofree with a whole skin; but that, pending the negotiation, which couldbe carried on by the fathers of the Abbey of Strata Florida, he wouldremain a close prisoner, and his ransom would be the king's consent.

  These were the best terms the unhappy Raoul could obtain for himself,and he was forced to abide by them. The fathers of the abbey were honestand trustworthy, and carried his letters to the king as soon as they hadpenned them for him. Raoul was clever in diplomatic matters, and was soanxious for his own safety that he took good care not to drop a hint asto the evil conduct of the people of Iscennen, which might draw uponthem the royal wrath and upon him instant death. He simply representedthat he was weary of his charge of this barren estate, that he preferredlife in England and at the court, and found the revenues very barren andunprofitable. As the former owners had redeemed their character by quietconduct during the past year and a half, his gracious Majesty, hehinted, might be willing to gratify them and their people by reinstatingthem.

  And when Edward read this report, and heard the opinion of the fatherwho had brought it -- a wily and a patriotic Welshman, who knew how toplead his cause well -- he made no trouble about restoring to Llewelynand Howel their lands, only desiring that Wendot should renew his pledgefor their loyalty and good conduct, and still hold himself responsiblefor his brothers to the king.

  And so Llewelyn and Howel went back to Carregcennen, and Wendot andGriffeth remained at Dynevor, hoping with a fond hope that this act ofclemency and justice on the part of Edward would overcome in the mind ofthe twins the deeply-seated hatred they had cherished so long.