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Authors: Nancy Gebel

Tags: #england, #wales, #henry ii

Rhuddlan (62 page)

BOOK: Rhuddlan
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Robert Bolsover—it was his fault, Haworth
thought angrily as he returned to the wall and his study of the
back of Ralph de Vire’s golden head. Robert Bolsover—five years
dead and still coming between him and the earl.

 

“What’s wrong?”

“What did you tell him?”

“Sir Roger?” Hugh laughed. “That I was
spending the night with my wife. Why are you so nervous? If anyone
sees you enter my chamber and if Sir Roger asks me about it, I will
tell him that you were the one I sent to fetch Eleanor. So? Nothing
to be nervous about.”

Ralph de Vire looked unconvinced. “I was
there when he fought Alan d’Arques, my lord. I don’t think I’d last
half as long.”

Hugh poured out two cups of wine. “You’re too
modest, Sir Ralph,” he said, handing one to the other man.
“Besides, Roger is my creature. He may look fierce, he may growl,
but he loves me beyond comprehension and if I tell him it’s for his
own good that he believes I sent you to fetch my wife, he will
believe it. The last thing he wants to do is provoke an argument
which might end in his dismissal from my service.”

As he spoke, he watched de Vire and his heart
began throbbing in his chest. The younger man was so much like
Robert Bolsover in appearance it was uncanny—and thrilling.

He watched de Vire and knew, despite
Haworth’s gloomy opinion, that his decision to revenge himself upon
the Bastard had been right. The proof he had was standing before
him. De Vire was like a gift from heaven, as close a physical
reincarnation of Robert Bolsover as he could ever hope to find, and
the direct result of his and Rhirid’s plan to snatch away the
Bastard’s wife. After all, he reasoned, if revenge wasn’t right,
then the plan would have failed.

Hugh had received precious few gifts in his
life. He meant to enjoy this one to the fullest.

He raised his cup to de Vire and smiled at
him. “Drink up!”

 

 

Chapter 41

 

May, 1177

Llanlleyn, Gwynedd

 

Olwen watched Goewyn pace the small confines
of Teleri’s room with increasing agitation. She was highly
distressed. Little Henry reacted to the tension by squirming in
Teleri’s arms. His face screwed up in preparation, Olwen knew, for
a loud howl. She couldn’t blame him; she felt like howling, too.
She looked at Teleri, who looked back at her with upraised
eyebrows.

“He’s about to cry,” Olwen said in a low
voice. “Do you want me to take him?”

Teleri shook her head. She picked up the
baby, smiled into his face and jiggled him playfully.

“These men are nothing but animals!” Goewyn
burst out suddenly. She stopped pacing to address them, her
normally capable demeanor replaced with a wild, frazzled expression
which worried Olwen.

“You’ll get no argument from me,” Teleri
agreed mildly. “But, to be fair, the fault lies not only with the
Normans. Rhirid provoked this. Lord William is just reacting to it
in his usual, bull-headed fashion.”

Goewyn stared at her, turning red with anger.
“Rhirid may have burned a few fields but he never murdered anyone!
Your husband has just attacked his third holding! God alone knows
how many innocent people he’s killed this time! Why is he doing
it?”

Teleri shrugged with apparent disinterest and
made a funny face for Henry.

“You don’t care, do you?” Goewyn demanded,
stepping closer to Teleri. “Lord William may destroy our
people—your people, too, I might add!—but all that matters to you
is getting to the Perfeddwlad!”

Teleri’s diversions failed. Henry, frightened
by the shouting, started wailing. “Oh, look what you’ve done!” she
scolded. “Really, Goewyn, can’t you see? The sooner we get to the
Perfeddwlad, the sooner my uncle can put a stop to this war. Or
isn’t that what you want?”

“I want the war ended but I don’t want the
prince involved,” the other woman retorted. “For reasons that
should be obvious even to you, Dafydd will be on Lord William’s
side, so any settlement will only hurt Rhirid and Llanlleyn. It
would be better if you go back to Rhuddlan and not involve the
prince!”

With a noise of disgust,
Teleri handed the baby back to Olwen and stood up to face Goewyn.
“I am
not
going to
Rhuddlan. There’s no debating that point so you might as well
accept it! As for my uncle favoring Lord William—he has yet to hear
the tale I have to tell him.”

“Can’t you two stop
fighting?” Olwen pleaded. “Lady Teleri won’t get
anywhere
if we don’t stop
arguing and start making plans.”

Goewyn and Teleri stared malevolently at each
other for a little while longer, and then Teleri returned abruptly
to her seat and Goewyn said in a more subdued voice, “Dylan told me
they’re riding out at dawn to retaliate against this latest attack.
He said they don’t expect to be gone long—they might not even be
out overnight. But I think their absence is our best chance to
sneak Lady Teleri out of Llanlleyn without anyone noticing.”

“Tomorrow!” Teleri exclaimed. “That gives us
little time. Olwen, can you be ready?”

Olwen and Goewyn exchanged a glance. “I’m not
going, Lady Teleri. That was never part of the plan. I can’t travel
quickly with two small children,” Olwen said.

“Besides, Lady Teleri,” Goewyn added with a
malicious gleam, “Rhirid will notice immediately if Olwen isn’t
here to greet him upon his return.”

Surprise flitted briefly across Teleri’s face
but to Goewyn’s disappointment, she recovered smoothly. “Is that
so? It doesn’t matter. But tomorrow morning! I’m not sure…”

“Lady Teleri, what have you got to do?”
Goewyn asked in exasperation. She felt the anger pulse again,
giving her a headache. “You’re only taking yourself! There’s
nothing you must prepare!”

“I’d like to interview the man who’s
escorting me to the Perfeddwlad,” Teleri said blandly. “I want to
make sure he knows the way and won’t accidently drop me at
Rhuddlan.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Goewyn demanded
furiously. “I disagree with you but if you insist on going to the
Perfeddwlad then that’s where you’ll go! And good riddance to you!”
Without giving Teleri an opportunity to reply, she turned to Olwen.
“I have to see to the evening meal. Could you please persuade Lady
Teleri she must leave tomorrow morning?” With a last glare at
Teleri, she whirled around and left the room.

“That poor man…” Teleri murmured, watching
her go.

“I think it’s the better plan to go to the
prince,” Olwen ventured.

“Of course it is! If I turned up at Rhuddlan,
my beloved husband would probably have me murdered! He would never
believe I was abducted against my will.”

“We’ve promised your escort that the prince
will reward him generously…”

“I swear to you, Olwen, if
this man gets me safely to the Perfeddwlad,
I
will reward him generously. He’ll
never want to come back to this mud-spattered place.”

Olwen seriously doubted he’d be able to…“Lady
Teleri,” she asked hesitantly, “do you think you’ll be ready
tomorrow?”

“I would leave now if I could! That woman has
done her utmost to make my life here a misery and the others aren’t
any kinder.”

Olwen rocked the baby in her arms, his
wailing reduced to small squeaks and murmurs. “I told you the
reason for that,” she said. “They’re afraid your presence will draw
Lord William to Llanlleyn. Look what he’s done already.”

“What about you?”

“Me?”

“Well, you’re a hostage,
too, aren’t you? And Sir Richard is Lord William’s closest friend.
What makes everyone think all this isn’t for
your
benefit?”

“For me?” Olwen laughed. “I’m not important
enough.”

“Not even to Sir Richard?”

The grin on Olwen’s face died. She looked
down at her baby and did not respond.

“But apparently to Lord Rhirid…” Teleri added
slyly. “Is he the real reason you won’t come with me?”

“I told you the reason,” Olwen said firmly.
“I can’t travel. Henry’s nursing and William still has nightmares
about being snatched away from his home. We’ll stay where we are
for the moment.”

Teleri shrugged indifferently. “Very
well.”

After Olwen left her, she threw off her
nonchalant façade and started shaking with impotent anger. She was
mortified, mortified, that Goewyn should have insinuated that in
the battle for Rhirid’s regard, she was the loser! Dylan must have
found her interest in the chief to be beyond merely curious and
commented on it to his wife. She was mortified that Goewyn should
even imagine she had a reason to be jealous of Olwen.

As she was—but she didn’t anyone to know it.
Her only relief was the realization that at this same time
tomorrow, she’d be far away from Llanlleyn and the gossiping would
be out of earshot.

Olwen had spoken of nightmares. Teleri would
have sworn she was living one. Far from being her hero, Rhirid had
turned out to be just a petty Welsh chief administering a petty
Welsh commote. And to add insult to injury, he wanted nothing to do
with her because he was in love with Olwen! It was the low point of
several years of bad luck—dating from her unfortunate marriage—and
it was the last straw. She was going back to her uncle’s court and
she would not budge from it unless God Himself came down from
Heaven with a divine command.

 

“It looks like rain,” Teleri said, her head
tilted up towards the cloudy sky.

“You don’t want to change your mind about
leaving over a little bad weather, do you?” Goewyn said.

“Of course not! I just hate getting wet.
Fortunately I’m not wearing anything that might spoil.”

Goewyn, who had given her the plain dress to
wear in place of her own, which they’d all agreed attracted too
much attention, frowned at the insult but bit her tongue. She
refused to be drawn into an argument; she didn’t want to do or say
anything that could result in Teleri perversely deciding to change
her mind about leaving.

“Cover your head with this,” she instructed,
handing Teleri a large square of brown linen. “It’s clean!” she
added sharply, after she saw the other woman eye it doubtfully.

Teleri put it over her hair, crisscrossed the
hanging ends across her chest and threw them back over either
shoulder. Goewyn studied her critically and reached forward to pull
the front of the hood a little lower down on her forehead.

“Where’s Olwen?” Teleri asked.

“She’s got to see Rhirid off, hasn’t she?”
Goewyn answered. “I told you before: he’ll notice if she isn’t
around.”

Teleri said innocently, “And Dylan won’t
notice if you’re not around?”

Goewyn gritted her teeth. “Olwen will be here
when it’s safe for us to leave.”

Teleri wasn’t sure if she liked the look of
the man who was to escort her to the Perfeddwlad. He was slight and
non-descript and he stared at her with a strange, unblinking gaze.
Once or twice, as Goewyn gave him instructions, he started to
cough, a heavy, rumbling noise which turned Teleri’s stomach, and
then, without warning, swiveled his head and spat out the
by-product. The first time it happened, Teleri shot Goewyn a
horrified look but the other woman appeared not to have noticed, or
perhaps she was merely accustomed to his habits.

The sight of the horse she and this man were
to share on the journey was even more discouraging. An old, placid
grey mare, most likely the smallest beast in Rhirid’s stable,
Teleri wondered if it could successfully complete the trip, let
alone support their combined weight.

“She’s sturdier than she looks, lady,”
growled the man, noticing her apprehensive glance.

Teleri had no choice but to believe him. And
to trust him.

Goewyn had explained that the man had been
one of a few to favor Rhirid’s cousin. After the cousin had been
summarily deposed, his supporters were shunned by the new chief and
not permitted to join in any of his activities. “Rhirid was never
so vindictive before the Normans,” Goewyn had told her, but it was
to their advantage because the man wanted to get out of Llanlleyn
just as badly as Teleri.

Still, it was reassuring to feel the
unfamiliar weight of a dagger at her hip, hidden beneath her cloak,
and to know she wasn’t completely at this stranger’s mercy. Olwen
had given it to her; it had been a gift of protection from Richard
Delamere after the earl of Chester’s men had taken Gwalaes’ child.
“It didn’t work, did it?” Olwen had laughed. “I mean, when Rhirid’s
men came to the manor…” But Teleri believed she would be able to
use it if she had to.

Finally, Olwen appeared. She was breathless,
as if she’d been running, and without her children. She told them
the direction Rhirid’s army had gone and how long ago it had
departed. Goewyn looked expectantly at Teleri and the latter, who
was finding a great deal of sport in provoking her, couldn’t resist
inquiring why she had to leave after all. “If Lord Rhirid is
answering this last attack by the Normans now, then he must have
decided against using me in his scheme for revenge.”

She was rewarded with a gasp from Goewyn.
“No, no, no,” the woman said hurriedly. “He’s only going out to
make mischief in the land around Rhuddlan. Slaughtering livestock,
burning crofts…He won’t even be seeing Lord William. You’ve still
got to go!”

And so she went. Her escort smelled horrible
and their mount’s pace was so slow she sourly imagined that she
could make better time if she walked. The man had estimated three
days for the journey; she had no idea but a general direction where
the Perfeddwlad was, yet she believed he was being generous. Still,
she bit her tongue and kept all negative comments to herself. She
was going home—how could she possibly complain?

BOOK: Rhuddlan
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