***

Th e winter subsided, and spring came. They had been wed for a year, and in that time had heard nothing from ap Gruffydd. Having received a message from Prince Edward, Edward finally sent for his cousin Rafe de Beaulieu. The crusade was to proceed. At Edward's call both Rafe and his younger sister, Katherine, came to Haven.

Katherine de Beaulieu was much like her brother in features, but in manner she was a quiet and delerential girl. She was eighteen to Rhonwyn's seventeen, and neither married nor betrothed. She did not, according to Rafe, have enough of a dowry.

"Our parents were of modest means. We always thought she would wed Edward," he said boldly.

"I told you I should give Kate a generous dower," Edward said through gritted teeth. "She is worthy of it, and my blood kin besides."

"I am content to remain at Ardley and care for your house, brother," Katherine said, openly embarrassed by her sibling's rudeness. Her fair skin was flushed.

"Will you remain at Haven with your brother while he is here, mistress?" Rhonwyn asked. "Or will you return to your home?" She ignored Rafe.

"My brother feels I should not be left alone at Ardley, cousin Rhonwyn," the girl said. "He has a trusted bailiff who will care for the manor in our absence. With your permission, in your absence I shall take your place overseeing this household."

"You have my permission, cousin," Rhonwyn replied. "I should appreciate it if you would have young Glynn of Thorley home on his school holidays should he wish it."

"So, your wife is thoughtful of your bastard, Ned," Rafe de Beaulieu said, clapping his cousin on the back heartily. "Which of your wenches did you get the lad on, you sly dog!"

"Why do you put up with his rudeness?" Rhonwyn grumbled later when they had a moment of privacy.

Edward smiled. "Rafe is a good man, wife, but he loves his sister dearly and is jealous seeing you in what he believed would be her place. I know his tongue is sharp ofttimes, but his serfs and his few tenants worship him, for his heart is kind. He will not permit children beneath the age of ten to work in his fields more than three hours a day."

"I do not like him," Rhonwyn said, "although I think his sister a sweet girl with no jealousy or ambition in her heart. Rafe is arrogant and, I believe, sees himself in your place."

Edward laughed. "Nay, he does not, but I will agree his way is sometimes rough. But if you fear such a thing, give me a son, and Rafe will be forced to melt away, Rhonwyn, my wild Welsh wife."

She blushed, but she also smiled.

It had been decided between them that Rafe and his sister not know Glynn's true identity. Ap Gruffydd's son was far safer that way, and Edward was not really certain how far he might trust his cousin. Rafe was his heir in the event he died without issue, but now that Edward had a wife and it appeared he had fathered a son on a former leman, perhaps his cousin would be less proprietary of Haven. He had been very angry and greatly disappointed when Edward told him of the marriage that was to be arranged between him and the Welsh prince's daughter.

But Rafe de Beaulieu had not bothered to look for a husband for his sister now that there was a chance that Edward and his wife might not even return from the crusade they were embarking upon. Such a venture was a dangerous thing, and many who went never lived to see England again. If Rafe became Lord Thorley of Haven, he could make Kate a far better match than Rafe de Beaulieu of Ardley Manor could. By waiting, he increased both their chances. And what if the Welsh wench perished on crusade, but Ned came home? He could wed Kate to their cousin as his parents had always hoped. And if Ned perished and the lady Rhonwyn returned, he would marry himself to the Welsh girl in a trice and thereby gain Haven by both inheritance and marriage to ap Gruffydd's daughter, whose very presence would keep those marauders from his gates. He could sense that his fortune was already made.

Preparations for the departure were well underway as the spring deepened, and the fields grew green with new growth. Provisions had to be gathered and packed for the troop of men Edward had promised the prince. Horses were shod; wagons repaired, made solid, and packed. The women at Thorley had sewed all winter, making waterproof tents for the expedition: a large one for the lord and his wife, smaller ones for the knights and the foot soldiers. Was the grindstone packed? And the bedding and small furniture for the lord's tent? A separate wagon was loaded for the kitchen and its basic utensils.

Glynn was taken by his sister and brother-in-law to Shrewsbury to the abbey school where he had been enrolled. The abbott received them in his private chambers, and fixing Edward de Beaulieu with a stern look, said, "I want the truth of this boy's heritage, my lord, or I will not have him. It has been implied that he is your get, but I see nothing of you in this lad. You may speak to me as you would were we in the confessional, but for the safety of my abbey, I will know the truth."

"He is Glynn ap Llywelyn, my wife's younger brother, Father Abbott" was the immediate reply. "The prince left the boy in my charge months ago, as my wife had never been separated from her sibling, and from his character it is obvious to all that he is not meant to be a soldier. He loves learning and creating music, poetry, and songs. His true identity we have kept carefully to ourselves, for I would not have this boy used as a weapon against any. Even my cousin Rafe does not know who he is. We thought it better that it was believed he was mine."

The abbott nodded, understanding. "Does his father know where he is, my lord?"

"Aye, he does. When he brought the boy to us he left two of his men with the lad. I have sent them back into Wales to tell ap Gruffydd where his son is. He will not object. You have sworn this conversation between us is private, my lord abbott. Now I beg you to keep the secret of my brother-in-law's true identity hidden and to yourself alone. Should there be war between Wales and England while my wife and I are gone on crusade, the lad will disappear from your abbey, and no harm will come to you or your people, I swear it. Though Glynn's father thinks little of his inclinations for learning and his penchant for poetry, he loves the boy. Few if any know of his existence, although it is rumored that the prince of the Welsh has a son."

The abbott was silent a moment, and then he turned to Glynn. "Tell me, my son, are you content to be known as a bastard within these walls? As a nobleman's get, you will, of course, be treated well, but there will be some who may bully you for your supposed birth."

"I am a bastard," Glynn replied quietly, "for our father was not wed to our mother except in their hearts, my lord abbott. Still, I have been treated well my whole life. If there are those who seek to dignify their own paltry existences by denigrating mine, I can but pray for them. 1 have not a warrior's heart, I fear."

"You are most welcome to the abbey school, Glynn of Thorley," Abbott Boniface said with a small smile. The lad was indeed intelligent, and his quiet reply led the cleric to wonder if the boy might not be a fit candidate for the religious life. Only time would tell. "Bid your sister and brother-in-law farewell, my son," he said.

Glynn shook Edward's hand. "Thank you," he said simply. "I will pray for your success and speedy return, my lord."

"You may visit Haven whenever there is a holiday and you wish to go home. Rafe and Katherine will be your family until we return," Edward replied, giving the lad a quick hug and ruffling his dark hair.

Glynn turned to his sister. There were tears in Rhonwyn's eyes, and her lip was trembling with emotion. "Do not dare weep, sister," he scolded her gently, for the first time in their lives taking the lead. "This is what I want, and to be with your husband in the service of God is what you want." Glynn put his arms about Rhonwyn and hugged her.

She drew away from him, taking his face in her hands. When had he gotten so tall, so big? Was that a bit of beard starting to grow on his chin? She kissed him on both of his cheeks. "When I return you will be a man," she lamented.

"I should be a man eventually in any case," he told her with a small smile, gently touching her cheek with his knuckles.

"You will study hard and obey the brothers," she said, suddenly stern with him. Then she lowered her voice. "If there is trouble, Oth and Dewi will come for you. Go with them without hesitation, Glynn. Promise me that, little brother."

"I promise," he answered her. He kissed her quickly on the lips and the forehead. "Go with God, Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn, and return safely to us when you can." Then he turned and followed the brother who had come to escort him from the lord abbott's chambers.

Rhonwyn immediately burst into tears, flinging herself into Edward's arms and sobbing piteously.

"They have hardly been separated in all their lifetime," Edward explained to the abbott.

"It is good to see such devotion between a brother and sister," the abbott noted. Then he said to Rhonwyn, whose sobs were now sniffles, "We will take good care of your brother, my lady. I swear it."

"Th-thank you, m-my lord abbott," Rhonwyn managed to say.

They left the abbey and returned almost immediately to Haven where their party was ready to depart for the coast.

Katherine and her brother bid them adieu. "I shall pray every day for your safety and your success," she said softly. "Godspeed, cousins!" There were tears in her soft blue eyes, and Rhonwyn swallowed her jealousy when she thought Kate's gaze lingered a fraction of a second too long upon Edward.

"My husband and I thank you, dear Kate. We shall be grateful for your prayers," she returned.

Their train moved off down the castle hill onto the local road that would lead them to a wider and larger main road.

"What a woman she is," Rafe said softly. "The fates have played us both a nasty jest, little sister. You with your gentle ways would be a far better mate for Edward; and Rhonwyn with her fiery ways would find herself happier with me for a husband."

"Rafe!" Kate was shocked to hear him voice such sentiments. "Their union is the king's will," she said chidingly.

He laughed softly. "Do not scold me, Kate, for wanting what I shall never have. I firmly believe that they will both return one day."

The English army was to gather at Dover, and from there go on to Bordeaux. Their journey would be by both land and water. Barges took them from Haven down the Severn to Gloucester. They moved overland from there, skirting about the city of London and heading for their first destination at Dover. Arriving there in mid-May, they discovered that Prince Edward was not ready to go. Those already in Dover would leave England on one of the advance vessels for France and travel onward across the countryside for Aigues-Mortes on the Mediterranean Sea, meeting up with the French there. Prince Edward and his train would follow as quickly as possible.

"My wife was to be a part of the princess Eleanor's train," Edward told the port official in charge.

"She'll join the princess when Prince Edward reaches Aigues-Mortes" was the reply. "If she's going, she'll have to travel with you for now, my lord," the port official said. Then his manner softened. "There's another lady traveling on the ship I'm assigning to you, my lady. You'll share a tiny cabin and be company for each other. Her husband, too, is among the king's knights."

"My husband and I cannot be together?" Rhonwyn was distressed.

"The men will have to find places to sleep on the deck, my lady. You are going to war against the infidel, not on a honeymoon voyage," the port official said sharply.

"You will address me courteously, sir," Rhonwyn said, an equally sharp edge to her voice. "I am the prince of the Welsh's daughter, not some country squire's wife."

"Your pardon, my lady," the official quickly replied. "With the prince being delayed, I am at my wit's end trying to make everything come out correctly."

Rhonwyn nodded regally at him, and her husband managed to suppress his amusement.

The vessel aboard which they sailed from Dover was a large one. All their men-at-arms and the three knights, their horses, and their equipment was upon it, as was a smaller party from Oxford. They sailed in a season of good weather, but were at sea for ten days before reaching Bordeaux. The boredom that had enveloped them aboard ship evaporated as they now headed south overland for France's single Mediterranean port of Aigues-Mortes. As they traveled the road grew more and more crowded with noblemen, knights, and men-at-arms all bound for the same destination- and the crusade.