Footsteps in Time (10 page)

“
Gone,” Bevyn said, “along
with a dozen others. We’re gathering at Dolwyddelan.” He looked
back and his sneer was almost a smile. “In two days’ time, we all
will leave here to join them—even you, Gruffydd.”

Everyone saddled up. As
David mounted Taranis, a stranger led his horse from the stables.
Bevyn trotted over to introduce them. “Prince Dafydd, please meet
Mathonwy ap Rhys Fychan, your cousin. Lord Mathonwy, this is Prince
Dafydd.”

“
My lord.” Mathonwy bowed.
“Please call me Math.”

“
Dafydd,” David said. They
grasped forearms in greeting.

“
It is my honor to serve
you,” Math said.

And then David realized that Math
meant what he said. “My father brought you here to watch over me,
didn’t he?”

“
Yes,” Math said, as if
there was nothing more to it than that.

Yet David didn’t have
to ask why.
I am a Prince of Wales.
Math mounted his horse and rode out of the
gatehouse at David’s side. David tried to think of something to
say. Math was a lot older—maybe twenty, six feet tall, with black
hair, blue eyes, but no mustache. That was unusual enough to
comment upon, but David thought the first question out of his mouth
shouldn’t be, “why don’t you have a mustache?”

Instead, David said, “So you’re my
cousin?”

“
I am the son of Prince
Llywelyn’s sister, Gwladys. She died at my birth, and I lost my
father ten years later. I’ve lived in your father’s household since
then. I’ve just come from the north, from Ewloe, one of the castles
I hold for your father against the English.”

“
When did my father send
for you?”

“
I received word of your
arrival the day after Christmas, but it took some time to make a
proper disposition of my men. Ewloe is only a few miles from
Hawarden and Flint, both of which the English once held and would
like to hold again. Edward himself sits at Rhuddlan, waiting for
the weather to clear.”

“
Are you a knight?” David
blurted out. Math certainly looked it, with well-polished mail
armor, sword, and leather bracers worn with use.

He laughed, but
not
at
David.
“Yes,” he said. “And someday, that fate will be yours, God
willing.”

As they rode down the
road to the valley floor, David kept glancing out of the corner of
his eye at Math. Math sat very straight, his hands on the
reins
just so
, his
shield held at exactly the right angle. Without saying anything,
David tried to copy him. David had a sense, all the same, that Math
was watching him and knew what he was doing. David decided he
didn’t care. Father wouldn’t have brought Math to Castell y Bere if
he didn’t trust him, and if he didn’t think David had something to
learn from him.

“
Today we ride west,” Bevyn
said above the clopping of hooves and the murmur of boys, “to the
sea.”

David’s ears perked up at
that. He hadn’t yet seen the sea, even though it was fewer than ten
miles from Castell y Bere. They forded the River Dysynni, to the
northwest of the castle, and then followed a trail along the north
bank of the river. When the river cut south, the trail continued
west to the sea and the village of Llangelynin. They rode without
stopping through what in the summer would be rich farmland, and
less than an hour later reached the beach.

David breathed in the sea
air. His eyes strained forward across the water, but the low clouds
hanging on the horizon blocked the view towards Ireland.

And America.

“
The sea is in my blood,”
Math said. “My family’s lands lie in the south, at Dinefwr Castle
in Ystrad Tywi but I was born at Aberystwyth, in the old castle
that Edward destroyed. That castle sat on a headland, overlooking
this sea, and was beautiful, not like the half-finished ruin that
Edward thought to build.”

“
Who has it now?” David
said.

“
Gruffydd ap Maredudd.
During Holy Week a year ago, we took Aberystwyth, Hawarden, Flint,
Llandovery, and Carreg Cennen in one night. We’ve won and lost
these and more in the last year, but Aberystwyth is still
ours.”

“
Were you
there?”

Math laughed again. “No. The rebellion
was all your uncle’s idea at first, you know. Your father didn’t
join the fight until nearly summer. We’ve had some defeats and a
few victories, most notably at the Menai Straits in November.
Edward has waited two months to attack again. It will come, and I
pray we will be ready.”

“
I don’t know that I’m
ready,” David said.

“
You are,” Math said, “else
your father wouldn’t be letting you fight.”

Bevyn spoke above the murmuring of the
boys. “We will split up, today,” he said. “I’ve a new lesson for
you. You’ll need to find your way home without my help.”

“
Now
that’s going to be interesting,” Math said.
He tipped his head to David and Owain, indicating they should
ride with him.

Llangelynin didn’t have much of a
beach and within an eighth of a mile of the shoreline, a rocky
escarpment rose over two hundred feet above it, forming a ridge of
land that descended only slightly to the farmland on the other
side. Further east, the land fell nearly to sea level, before
rising again to the foot of the mountain range of which Cadair
Idris was the highest peak.

Two miles north, however, which is
probably why Bevyn suggested they take that route in the first
place, the escarpment receded and it was possible to ride around it
inland.

“
So the first step is
done,” Math said. “Now tell me the direction of Castell y
Bere.”

David thought about it and pointed
southeast.

“
No,” Owain said. “It is
directly east, perhaps ten miles.”

Math shook his head. “Make it five and
you’d be correct,” he said. “We rode south from the castle along
the Dysinni, before cutting east. Five miles riding is less than an
hour’s work, but there’s a twelve hundred foot mountain between us
and the castle. Should we go over it?”

Owain and David slowly shook their
heads, both thinking harder now. “No,” David said. “We go around
it.”

Math nodded. “North or
south?”

“
South,” Owain said, more
confident now, “back to the Dysinni.”

“
Yes,”
Math said. “The first rule of travel through unfamiliar territory
is to stick with what you know. We
know
there’s a mountain between us and
the castle; we know that Cadair Idris rises above us to the
northeast.” He pointed, and Owain and David turned to look, but the
cloud cover had descended even further.

“
And,” Owain finished, “we
know the river passes by the castle.” He held out his hand as a
snowflake fell into it.

“
So we pick our way between
the ridge that runs along the sea, and the one that rises between
us and the castle,” David said, wishing for the ease of a GPS unit,
or at worst, a map and compass.

Math nodded. “You must
always remain aware of the land through which you’re traveling.
Ridges, rivers, mountains, wind, sun—all will inform you of your
location. If the snow falls,” and now he looked up to check the
sky, “you have the wind to guide you. Your great-grandfather built
Castell y Bere were he did, Dafydd, because it guards a primary
route for travel and trade into the mountains behind it, and is one
of the most defensible locations in Wales. An army can approach the
valley over which it presides only from the east or west. By
following the intersections of roads, ridges and the river we can
determine the direction we must travel.”

“
Even in snow?” Owain
said.

David checked his cloak. It was dusted
with white.

“
Even in snow,” Math said,
“though it’s much less pleasant than when the sun and wind are at
your back. If we were anywhere but here, we might have to stop and
find shelter, rather than risk becoming lost in the
mountains.”

With one last look at the
grey sea storming onto the shore, David turned inland and led Owain
and Math along the curve of the ridge east, and then southeast
through the blowing snow. The wind was behind them at first, and
then swirled and became directionless as the escarpment rose
between them and the sea.

The clouds descended until they
couldn’t see ten feet in front of them. “It’s going to get dark
before we’re home,” Owain said.

They plodded on, hoods up and cloaks
tugged tight. They reached the river an hour later and turned east
towards Castell y Bere. Then, just as David thought they were on
the home stretch, Owain’s horse slipped awkwardly on uneven ground
the snow had hidden.

“
I’m sorry, my lords,”
Owain said when he dismounted. Although the horse’s leg wasn’t
broken, he couldn’t put his weight on it.

Math dismounted too. “It’s a sprain
only,” he said, feeling the horse’s hock. “We’ll have to lead
him.”

The horse’s head bobbed with every
step, but he walked the rest of the way. Even as they neared the
castle, they would have missed it if beacons hadn’t shone from the
ramparts. They followed the light, wending their long way up the
road to the castle gate. When they reached it, Prince Llywelyn was
standing under the raised portcullis, his cloak blowing around his
shoulders and his hands on his hips.

“
Father,” David said,
dismounting in front of him.

“
Son,” he said, but only
glanced at David once before looking over his shoulder to
Math.

“
All is well, my lord,”
Math said.

David’s eyes went
from his father, to Goronwy, to Bevyn, both of whom stood slightly
behind the prince. Something was wrong and it took him a moment to
realize that each them was holding himself very tightly. Prince
Llywelyn’s jaw was set and his eyes narrowed.
Angry at me? Why?

“
My lord,” Goronwy tried,
and David had a sense that this was not his first
entreaty.

“
What happened?” Father
said, his voice flat and emotionless. “You’re the last to
arrive.”

“
Owain’s horse slipped and
strained his leg,” David said. “He could barely walk.”

“
It’s only five miles from
here to the sea,” Father said.

“
As the crow flies,” David
said. “We followed the ridge south, and then had to turn northeast
again along the Dysinni. We must have come at least double that
distance.” David tried to keep defensiveness out of his voice, but
probably failed.

Math stepped forward, rescuing him.
“It is better that he becomes a little lost here, my lord, and
learns to read the landscape close to home, before he attempts it
elsewhere where he’ll have no choice but to find his way
alone.”

Father’s face remained
rigid.

Now it was Goronwy’s turn. “If you
don’t allow Dafydd experiences such as this, you do him a
disservice.”

“
That’s why you brought me
here, Uncle,” Math said, “to keep him safe and I have done
so.”

“
You told me to ensure he
learned what he needed to know, sire,” Bevyn said. “I apologize if
I misunderstood your intentions.”

“
You didn’t,” Father said,
finally. He stepped towards David and wrapped his arm around his
son’s shoulders. “It was I who was unprepared.”

Chapter Seven

Anna

P
rince Llywelyn, David, and a host of men rode out of Castell y
Bere, in the third week of January, 1283. What’s more, David rode
at the head of the company, at Prince Llywelyn’s side, acknowledged
as his son. Somehow, after that afternoon in Papa’s study, without
any overt acclaim, word had spread. By dinner, everyone in the
castle had known David’s true identity. Instead of anger, there was
general contentment, if not a palpable sense of relief. Prince
Llywelyn had been wise to give his people time to become acquainted
with David’s character, so that now their response was a genuine,
“Of course he is! We knew it all along!”

Before he left, Anna found David near
the stables, adjusting his stirrups (because he’d probably grown
two inches over night). Putting her arms around his waist, she
squeezed him tightly and pressed her face into his wool
cloak.

“
Be safe,” she
said.

He turned and hugged her to him. “I
will.”

Anna let go to look
up at him and he smiled, with eyes that were bright with
excitement. Anna’s were bright with tears because what she really
wanted to say was
don’t go and leave me
here by myself
! But she didn’t say it. She
fought her tears, swallowed hard, and stepped away. She even
managed to smile.

“
This isn’t a computer
game, remember. That sword is real!”

“
I know it!” He mounted
his horse. Once seated, he turned serious and reached down to take
Anna’s hand. Sliding his fingers through hers, he leaned
close.