"You read, and write, and keep documents?" He almost moaned the words. This was a treasure of a woman he was losing. He could have profitably spent all his time at war with his weaker neighbors knowing that his wife, whose interests would of course be his own, was at St. Bride's overseeing everything. With Wynne as his mate he could have added considerably to his own holdings. The pain of that loss was almost too much.

Wynne's fingers quickly sifted through the parchments, and finally, at the bottom of the box, she found what she sought. Drawing it forth, she compared it to Madoc's copy and then, looking up at the assembled group, she said quietly, "It is identical. My father did indeed betroth me to Madoc of Powys when I was but six weeks old. There can be no question now of a marriage between Rhys of St. Bride's and myself."

Rhys groaned low, one fist clenching and unclenching in his disappointment and frustration.

"I cannot allow you to depart Gwernach my enemy, my lord," Madoc said, to Rhys's surprise.

"Your enemy?" Who was he to make an enemy of a sorcerer, Rhys thought bitterly. Was the prince mocking him? But he could see he was not.

"You need a wife," Madoc said quietly, "but not just any woman will do, for the mother of your heirs must be, like my Wynne, a rare pearl. You did not know that this maid was promised to me, but by my timely arrival I have, in a sense, stolen a bride from you. Let me replace that bride with my own sister, Nesta, who is as fair a girl as any you might find, and well-tutored in the arts of housewifery."

"Your sister?" Rhys knew he must appear an utter fool at this moment, repeating everything the prince said, but he did not care. Nesta of Powys was famed for her beauty! It was rumored that she had more than a passing acquaintance with magical arts. He would be allied by marriage to Madoc! What did it matter that he had lost Gwernach! He would have Nesta of Powys and her powerful family for relations! Rhys almost shouted with his joy.

"My sister is seventeen," Madoc continued, "and has told me she is ready to wed. She has placed her welfare in my hands. If you will have her to wife, then I will feel that I have settled this matter between us to everyone's satisfaction. What say you, my lord of St. Bride's?"

"I say aye!" Rhys answered him enthusiastically, a pleased grin splitting his face.

"But what of us?!" Caitlin burst out, unable to contain herself any longer. Wynne was to have a prince, and the prince's sister was to have Rhys. What of her? And Dilys? "What of the husbands you promised my sister and me, my lord?" Caitlin demanded.

"This changes nothing, lady," Rhys said, feeling expansive in his own good fortune. "We will be related by marriage, no matter that I wed another woman, and my cousins of Coed and Llyn need pretty, young wives to keep them warm and happy this winter, and always. I have promised you husbands, my ladies, and rich, young husbands you shall have of me!"

"And when will we be wed?" Caitlin was not entirely certain she should trust Rhys now.

The lord of St. Bride's turned to Madoc. "I must defer to you in this matter, my lord," Rhys said politely. "Gwernach is now your responsibility."

Dewi ap Owain leapt upon the table and glared angrily down at the two men. "Nay, gentlemen, I must protest," he said fiercely. "I am Gwernach's lord, though I be yet a boy. Gwernach is my responsibility and no other's!" He stood, legs apart, his hands balled into fists and set upon his hips, his dark blue eyes flashing with his youthful outrage.

"My young brother-in-law is absolutely correct," Madoc said in kindly tones. "You and I, Rhys, have been guilty of a serious breach of good manners." Madoc looked up at Dewi and smiled. "Come down, my lord. You have gained our attention now. If we do not settle the matter of your sister's wedding day, however, I fear the lady Caitlin may be driven to violence." He held out his hand and helped Dewi down. "What say you to the sixth day of September after the harvest, my lord of Gwernach?"

"Not before?" Dewi sounded disappointed.

"I believe your sisters will need the summer months to finish preparing their dowries. Then too," Madoc said, "there' is my sister to consider. I thought I would bring Nesta to Gwernach to meet her intended husband when the ladies Caitlin and Dilys wed. With your permission, of course."

"Aye, my lord, it is a good plan!" Dewi agreed, although secretly he had hoped to rid himself of Caitlin and Dilys sooner.

"I will not meet the lady Nesta before September?" Rhys said, sounding almost like a young boy with his first love.

"The betrothal papers must first be drawn up and my sister's dowry settled between us," Madoc said. "Our late mother had always wanted Nesta to have Pendragon, her ancestral home, of which she was its last heiress in the direct line. I will, of course, honor my mother's wishes in that matter; but then too there is the gold I would settle upon my sister, and she will need time to prepare her trousseau. I think we might set the wedding date at the Winter Solstice, my lord, if that suits you. Send me a priest to see to the legalities of the matter as soon as you can."

Rhys of St. Bride's head was reeling with the good fortune that had just been heaped upon his shoulders. Gwernach's loss was easily and quickly forgotten in the light of his acquisition of Pendragon, a small but most strategically placed castle on the coast near him. He had always coveted Pendragon, which was impregnable to attack. Like his neighbors, he had been forced to ignore it, believing there was no other sensible choice open to him. With Pendragon, his holdings would be more than doubled, for though the castle was insignificant in size, the lands belonging to it were vast and quite rich. With his marriage to Nesta of Powys, he would certainly become the most powerful of the coastal lords. He was exchanging a slight possibility for an absolute certainty. Rhys pulled a gold signet ring from his little finger.

"Give this to your sister, my lord," he said gravely. "It is my token and pledge to her."

"Your thoughtfulness will please Nesta," Madoc told him. "She is a girl with a gentle heart who appreciates elegant gestures. You will win much favor with her by the giving of this ring."

Rhys flushed, quite pleased by Madoc's words. His simple courtesy would delight Nesta. How different a maid she must be from this cold girl of Gwernach he had almost allied himself with in his effort to protect these lands from marauders who might otherwise have tried to steal them from young Dewi ap Owain.

He stood. "I will return to St. Bride's then," he told them all. "You will hear from me soon, my lord prince!" Rhys signaled to his men, who had been stuffing themselves with Gwernach's freshly baked bread, famous cheese, and nut-brown ale. "To horse!" he commanded, and they all clumped noisily from the hall behind him.

"Well," Caitlin said shrewishly, her blue eyes narrowing suspiciously, "I only hope he will keep his word and not try to trick us in this matter of his cousins. I should be happier were my marriage day coming sooner."

"There will be no delay in your wedding, my lady," the prince assured her. "Remember, Rhys cannot wed with my sister until you and the lady Dilys are safely wed to his cousins. There is no malice in Rhys's heart. You need have no fears. Now, with your brother's permission, I would ask you and your younger sisters to leave the hall as I have business with Gwernach's lord that does not concern you."

With a swish of her skirts and, surprisingly, not another word, Caitlin left the hall followed by Dilys, who led Mair by the hand.

"Would you have us gone also, my lord?" Enid asked politely.

"Nay, lady," he answered her with a warm smile. "This business that Gwernach's lord and I must discuss concerns the lady Wynne. I think she should be here. You as well, for you are wise by virtue of your years, and I believe your grandchildren respect your opinion."

Enid returned his smile, thinking as she did that he was a most charming man for all his family's reputation. She looked to her eldest granddaughter, but Wynne's serene face gave no hint of what she was thinking, which Enid knew was not a good sign. "Well, my child," she said in an effort to elicit something from the girl, "you prayed to be saved from Rhys, and so you have been."

"Indeed, Grandmother, I have been saved from Rhys, but to what end?" Wynne burst out. "Why did you not tell me of this betrothal?"

"Because, my child, I did not know," Enid replied honestly. "Remember, I did not return to Gwernach until you were almost a year old. When my second husband died, I had no wish to remain in his house, a helpless widow to be ordered about like a common serf by Howel's brutal son and his vicious wife. I preferred to return to Gwernach to help your mother with her growing family, and Margiad welcomed my return. There was a babe started and as quickly lost between you and Caitlin. Margiad was happy for my company and my experience. Never did your father mention any betrothal, but such reticence was like him. He rarely discussed anything of importance with your mother, or with me, unless it directly concerned us and was imminent. He was no different with you, dear child. As his death was an accident and he was a relatively young man in good health not expecting to die, it is most unlikely he would have mentioned this betrothal to any of us until your sixteenth birthday. If you had fallen in love with another, you would have, according to the terms of the betrothal, been expected to make your own choice. We are fortunate that Madoc heard of Owain's death before you wed with Rhys." She paled. "Such a marriage would have been bigamous in the eyes of the Church, and the children born of it, bastards."

"Do not fret, good lady," Madoc soothed her. "All is well now."

"When will you marry my sister, Wynne?" Dewi asked bluntly.

"On Beltaine next, if it suits her, and if she will have me," the prince said quietly.

"I have no wish to marry now," Wynne replied, wondering where she got the strength to say it when she was suddenly feeling weak and helpless with the relief of her narrow escape from Rhys.

"Are you of a mind to join your life with that of the Church, lady?" Madoc asked her, and when Wynne shook her head, he continued, "Then eventually you must wed. Since I am your betrothed husband and no other suits you, then you must wed with me." Reaching out, he took her slender hand in his and, startled, she could feel the strength flow from him directly into her body. "Do I displease you so then, lady?" he said gently, his marvelous eyes searching her face.

"How can you displease me, my lord, when I do not even know you?" Wynne said, carefully averting her eyes from his.

"That is precisely why I have affixed our wedding day almost a year from now, dearling," he told her, and what his look had been unable to accomplish, the sweet sobriquet he gave her did. Heat began once more to race through her body.

"It is more than fair," Dewi said, much to his sister's surprise. "It is most generous. Since you have no passion for the Church, then you must honor this betrothal our father made and wed Prince Madoc, Wynne."

"Did you not swear to me that the choice would be mine?" she insisted almost angrily.

"Aye, and I will not go back on my word, sister, but if not Madoc of Powys, who ? You will be sixteen in December, and you have already refused several suitors of good family and reputation. You are not in love with anyone to my knowledge, and now we learn you are betrothed to this man. I know I need not fear for my life with this husband of yours, as I felt I must fear Rhys of St. Bride's. Madoc does not seek to have my lands. Indeed, his family's reputation will keep me safe from those who might otherwise dare to wrest Gwernach from me."

Wynne was astounded by her younger brother's knowledge and firm grasp of the situation. Yesterday he had been but a naughty boy gone birding. Now he spoke with mature dignity and logic. She did not know how to fight him under these circumstances. Everything he said was true, even if he was but a child. "And if in getting to know you, my lord," she addressed Madoc, "I find we do not suit… you will set me free?"

He nodded slowly. "I want no unwilling woman to wife, lady. After the harvest and your sisters' marriages, I will take you with me to my home at Raven's Rock. You will keep my sister Nesta company until the Solstice, when we celebrate her marriage to Rhys. In that time we will get to know one another. Come the long winter when we are alone, we shall truly see if we are suited. Will that please you, Wynne of Gwernach?"