"Please, Tad," Rhonwyn said, slipping into the Welsh tongue.

"You have never before called me father," he answered her in the same dialect.

Rhonwyn smiled wryly. "It is unlikely I ever will again," she said honestly. "Let me have Glynn. I swear to you on my mother's honor that if I think the English mean to use him against you or Wales, I will either aid him to escape or kill him myself. You know I am worthy of your trust, Llywelyn ap Gruffydd. You know that as much as I love Glynn, that 1 will do my duty, whatever it may be. Please!"

"Say it again," he replied.

She hesitated a moment, and then said, "Please, Tad."

"You have my pride, daughter, but you know when to yield even as your mam did. Had you been my son the English would have truly had something to fear, Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn." The prince turned now to his son-in-law and spoke Norman words to him. "My daughter has convinced me that my son's interests are better served here at Haven Castle rather than at Cythraul. Since you have given me your word to protect him, I will send Glynn to you."

"I know you have made Rhonwyn happy," de Beaulieu said quietly. "Thank you, my lord prince. You will find I keep my word, should it be necessary to protect your son from the crown. Since I do not intend to inform the king that the boy is with us, it is unlikely we should face any difficulties."

"Henry is indecisive, but his cub is far fiercer than most I have known," ap Gruffydd warned his son-in-law. "He will be king sooner than later, and you must remain on his good side. He is the best and the worst of all his ancestors, son-in-law. How long the peace will hold after he becomes king, I do not know. If we should meet in battle, Edward de Beaulieu, look away. I should not like to slay my daughter's husband, the father of my grandchildren." He arose from the high board. "I have remained here long enough. It is time for me to depart lest you one day be accused of conspiracy," he chuckled.

de Beaulieu arose, as did Rhonwyn. Together they walked the prince of all the Welsh to the courtyard where his men awaited him. Taking his daughter by her shoulders, Llywelyn ap Gruffydd kissed her first on the forehead and then on each of her cheeks.

"Farewell, my daughter. May God be with you always," he said.

"Farewell, my lord prince," she responded. "I thank you."

"For what?" he teased her.

"For my husband and for my brother," she replied, giving him a small and rare smile.

He chuckled. "A son. You should have been a son," he said in his own tongue. Then he looked to de Beaulieu. "Farewell, son-in-law. God grant my daughter gives you many healthy sons and daughters."

"Thank you, my lord prince," de Beaulieu answered. "Godspeed!"

ap Gruffydd mounted his charger and led his men from Haven Castle. His daughter and her husband stood for a short time watching them go, and then they turned back into the castle.

"How did you manage to convince him to send your brother to us?" de Beaulieu asked his wife.

"I called him father," she said. "I have never before called him that. The prince is a strong man, but he is also sentimental. My calling him father touched him. It was also a victory in his eyes. He felt I was forced to do something he had always wanted. He knows, however, that we are both victorious in this matter, for we have both attained what we sought," she finished.

"What did you promise him?" he wondered aloud.

"Nothing," she replied. "Why should I have to promise him anything, my lord?"

"Perhaps you agreed to send him certain information," her husband suggested softly.


"If you doubt or fear for my loyalty, then make certain that I am not privy to your delicate English matters," she told him. "I promised ap Gruffydd nought. I merely called him father, a word he has longed to hear from my lips. I had never done so before. There is nothing more to it, Edward."

"You will have to earn my trust, Rhonwyn," he told her.

"Whether you trust me or not makes no difference to me, Edward," she said coolly. "I must live with my own conscience."

"By the rood, you are the most aggravating woman I have ever known!" he said.

"Have you known many women?" she asked him sweetly.

"A wife should be meek and obedient to her lord's will," he said.

"My mother was meek and obedient. She gained no wedding band by her position and lost her life, I believe, because of it," Rhonwyn replied. "Hers is hardly an example I wish to emulate."

"You have a wedding band," he said softly.

"We have already satisfied the treaty between our two nations, Edward," she reminded him as soltly.

He flushed, but then said, "Would you like to ride out with me and see the lands I possess, my lady wife?"

"Aye," she agreed, "I should, my lord husband."

So the truce was now set between them. They slept each in their own beds, but met at meals and rode together each day. His time was spent in overseeing the management of his lands, meeting with his bailiff and those freedmen who farmed portions of his lands and paid him in kind for the privilege. His flocks of sheep were large, his herds of cows ample. Fields needed to be plowed in rotation. Crops had to be planted and harvested and stored for winter. The days were busy and full.

Rhonwyn, with the help of Enit's uncle Alfred, the castle's steward, was learning the proper management of her home, putting into practice those lessons she had learned at the abbey. She was astounded by all the things she had to oversee and grateful now to the nuns who had given her some of the knowledge she would need. The year, Alfred told her, was a never-ending round of duties and chores. There was a time for slaughtering meat and salting it away for winter. The kitchen gardens had to be planted, the root crops stored in a cold place for use in the winter. The winters at Haven, Alfred said, were among the worst in all of England. Fruit had to be harvested at the proper time and turned into conserves and jellies. Apples, pears, and quinces could be dried as well as cold-stored. There was a time of year in which soaps, candles, and beer were made. The hives had to be well kept if the castle was to have honey. Sugar, sold in loaves at the Shrewsbury market fair each month, was expensive.

The weeks went by swiftly. April was followed by May, and then on one bright June day the castle watch called out that riders were approaching from the hills to the west. Three riders and a single pack horse. Rhonwyn could scarcely contain her excitement. She hurried to find Edward.

"The watch has spied a small party of three riders coming from Wales. It is my brother! It has to be Glynn!" she said. "Let me ride out to meet him, my lord! Please!"

"We will go together," he told her, and ordered their horses saddled at once.

They rode out with several men-at-arms in attendance, and with each pace the horses took, she grew more elated. Finally Rhonwyn could no longer contain herself and to Edward's surprise spurred her gelding forward into a gallop. A rider broke away from the incoming party, rushing forward to meet her. Edward de Beaulieu held his hand up to halt himself and his men even as the other riders ceased their movements as well. He watched, a small smile on his face, as Rhonwyn pulled Hardd to a stop and leapt off her mount, as did her brother off his. The two siblings flung their arms about one another, crying joyfully.

"Sister! Oh, sister, how beautiful you have become!" Glynn ap Llywelyn said admiringly.

"And you! You have grown so! You are taller than I am now, little brother! Oh, Glynn, I have so much to tell you, and you have so much to learn. I actually called him Tad, and he softened and let you come to me. Did I not promise you, Glynn?"

"I have your weapons," he said softly. "But you have become such a fine lady, Rhonwyn, will you want them now?"

"I will want them," she assured him. "Come now and meet my husband, Glynn."

"No greeting for us, lady?" a familiar voice called to her.

Rhonwyn turned. "Oth! Dewi! I greet you both." She swept them a curtsey, laughing as she did so.

"We scarcely recognized you, Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn, such a great lady you have become," Oth, the more talkative of the two, said.

"I am no great lady," she replied. "Just a simple lord's wife. You aren't used to seeing me dressed so prettily, Oth."

"Good thing you didn't look like that at Cythraul, Rhonwyn, else we should not have been able to keep you chaste," he chuckled. "Go on now and take the lad to your husband. We'll follow behind."

Together the siblings walked their horses to where Edward de Beaulieu awaited them. When they reached him, Rhonwyn introduced her younger brother to her husband. Edward greeted the boy graciously, and Glynn responded in kind, Rhonwyn translating for both of them.

"That is your first task," she told Glynn. "You must learn the Norman tongue. It isn't hard. I learned very quickly."

"Far easier than the Welsh," Edward said in that same tongue.

Rhonwyn gasped with surprise. "You speak Welsh?"

"My nursemaid was of the Cymri," he said to her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she demanded, suddenly both angry and worried. If he spoke Welsh, then he knew exactly what she had said to ap Gruffydd to convince him to let her have Glynn-that she would free Glynn or kill him if the English tried to take him.

He grinned wickedly. "I wanted to surprise you one day." He turned to Glynn. "I shall not often speak Welsh to you, lad, for you must learn the Norman language if you are to succeed in this world. Do you understand me, Glynn ap Llywelyn?''

"Aye, my lord, I do," Glynn agreed, not comprehending the deviltry in his brother-in-law's eyes.

"How could you do that to me?" Rhonwyn said as she remounted her horse and they turned to ride back to the castle, Glynn between them. "How could you speak my native tongue and not tell me so?"

"Why do you think I was the one chosen to wed you, Rhonwyn?" He cocked an eyebrow at her. "King Henry asked who among the bachelor lords in the Englishry could speak Welsh well enough to take a Welsh wife. I was the only one to admit such a talent. It was thought you would not speak the Norman tongue. When you did, I saw no reason to bring up my own abilities, for I was pleased you cared enough about your impending marriage to learn my language."

"But you know then what I promised the prince," she said.

"And you should know I will never let it come to that," he told her fiercely. "Do you not think I realize that if you had to kill Glynn, you would then kill yourself, Rhonwyn? Do you think me so great a fool not to understand that? I can protect Glynn without compromising my loyalties. This I swear to you, my lady wife. Do you believe me, Rhonwyn?" His gray eyes turned to look directly at her.

She met his look searchingly, and then seeing the truth of this man's word, replied, "Aye, Edward, I believe you."

"Good!" he replied. "We will not speak on it again."

Chapter 6

Glynn ap Llywelyn had never known a world such as that he entered into at Haven Castle. He had a chamber all his own. He was treated with deference as the son of the prince of Wales. At Cythraul be bad just been Glynn, the lad. And more often than not he was known as Rhonwyn's little brother, not that he minded. He had new experiences, the first of which was his baptism into the Christian faith, his brother-in-law standing as his godfather. When his two companions, Oth and Dewi, admitted to not being certain if they had ever been baptized, they, too, were christened.

"There can be no heathens in my home," the lord said with a small smile. "Surely you have not been Christians before now else you would have taught Prince Llywelyn's children their faith."

"Have you been baptized, sister?" Glynn asked Rhonwyn.

"At the abbey with our Aunt Gwynllian, my godmother," she told him.

It was ap Gruffydd's wish that Oth and Dewi remain at Haven with his son. Edward de Beaulieu did not object. "A prince's son should have his own retinue, however small," he said graciously, but in truth he understood the real reason for ap Gruffydd's wish. Should the English ever threaten Glynn, his two watchdogs could get him safely over the border into Wales with neither Edward nor Rhonwyn being held accountable.

"You must learn the Norman tongue," Edward told the two Welshmen in their own language. "You will be of more use to me if you do. However, it is not necessary that strangers be aware of your skills." He winked at them meaningfully.