"But to leave Gwernach!" she protested.

"Come, sister!" Dewi said a trifle impatiently. "Surely you cannot expect the prince of Wenwynwyn to remain here courting you. You will go to Raven's Rock Castle with him after the harvest and begin to familiarize yourself with your new domain. And now that that is settled, I would change my clothes. I am still damp to the bone from my adventures." He arose from the table. "Come and help me, Grandmother."

"Your eyes have the look of a netted bird," Madoc noted as they watched Dewi and Enid depart the hall.


Wynne turned, startled, surprised that he could read her so easily. "My brother likes you," she said, avoiding his reference, "and because he does he will see that our marriage takes place whether I want it or not, no matter he tells me the choice is mine. For the first time since our father's death he is behaving like a true lord of Gwernach despite his youth and inexperience.

"You have taught him well, lady, but have no fears. My pride is not so overweening that should you refuse me I will suffer, or Gwernach will suffer. The choice is truly yours. I swear it!"

"Why can no one understand that I simply do not wish to wed?" Wynne said despairingly.

"Why do you not wish to marry, lady?" he inquired gently. "Have you some dislike for men?"

"I do not think so, my lord," Wynne said. "No! I do like men."

"Then what is it that makes you struggle like an animal in a trap against the inevitable, lady?" he probed.

"I would be free!" she said. "No man's possession! My own mistress!"

"And so you shall be when you are my wife, Wynne of Gwernach. Far more free than you are now, dearling, for now you are caught in a snare of your own making. You have woven it tightly using fear and ignorance, but you shall escape this pitfall soon, dearling, for I shall give you the greatest weapon of all with which to fight your own fears."

"What is it?" she almost whispered, his words sending a small thrill through her veins.

"Love," was the simple answer. "Love is the greatest weapon known to man, Wynne. You will see, my dearling. You will soon see!"

Chapter 3

The harvest was adequate. Husbanded carefully, there would be enough to feed both Gwernach's cattle and Gwernach's people in the coming winter. The summer had been wet, but not as wet as previous years. There had been enough sunshine to ripen the grain and dry the hay. The growing season over, the weather had become sunny and mild. The grass was thick and lush on the wooded hillsides where Gwernach's milk cows grazed peacefully. The apples hung in the orchards, growing plumper and sweeter with each passing day.

In the hall, Wynne, Enid, and little Mair oversaw the many preparations for the double wedding to be celebrated in three days' time. Dewi and Einion had gone hunting a final time in an effort to add to their larder. The bridegrooms, accompanied by Rhys, would not arrive until the night before the nuptials. Madoc and his sister, however, were expected tomorrow.

He stayed at Gwernach but one night those three months ago, and he had not come since. He had written to her-some letters sweet, some of a more practical nature-several times over the past weeks. He had sent her gifts that had had Caitlin pea-green with envy, for her betrothed had sent but one item, an ill-fashioned necklace that even Wynne had to agree was ugly. There was an ivory box that had contained half-a-dozen beautiful gold hairpins set with creamy pearls. A fine chain of Irish red-gold. A necklace of garnet and one of amethyst, each with matching earrings. A willow cage containing a pale green finch who sang more sweetly than any Wynne had known had arrived one day. Soft-hearted, she had attempted to free the little creature, but though it flew about the hall and the gardens, each night it returned to its cage, where it tucked its tiny head beneath its wing to sleep most soundly until first light.

A month after Madoc had left them, his messenger had arrived with several bolts of fabric: brocade, silk, fine soft wools, sheer delicate linens, and jeweled ribbons in every hue of the rainbow.

"With my lord's compliments," the young page had said as his men-at-arms brought this sudden and unexpected bounty into the hall. "He suggests that perhaps you might find amongst his offerings something that would please your sisters to wear upon their wedding day."

With a single and unabashed shriek of delight, Caitlin and Dilys fell upon the fabric and were instantly embroiled in a violent quarrel over who should have which.

"Please thank my lord Madoc for his kind thoughtfulness," Wynne replied, offering refreshments to the page and his men before they left. She then turned her attention to her sisters. "Cease your bickering immediately," she threatened them, "or you shall have nothing. I would remind you that the fabrics are mine to do with as I please. Grandmother shall have the first pick, then Dewi and Mair. Only then will I allow you your choice."

"That's not fair!" Caitlin protested. "We are the brides! We should choose first!"

"Argue further with me," Wynne said darkly in a threatening tone, "and you shall find yourself wed in your shift, your hair cut to show the lord of Coed your true spousal servitude."

"I am content to wait my turn," Dilys said quickly, dropping her grip upon a swatch of brocade, her hand going to her long brown-gold hair as if to assure herself it was still there. It was her best attribute, for she was a bony girl with sharp features, whose bosom was only just beginning to soften her shape.

"You would not dare," Caitlin hissed menacingly, clutching a bolt of silk she particularly fancied to her breasts and glaring defiantly at Wynne.

"Nothing, sister mine, would give me greater pleasure," Wynne softy assured Caitlin, "but remember that first impressions are important. If you hope to rule your husband, and I know that you do, Caitlin, then you must bind him to you in those first moments. Can you do that if I shear your head like Einion shears the sheep?"

The bolt of silk slid from Caitlin's grasp and she pushed it away irritably. "The color did not suit me anyway," she said sourly.

Wynne smiled. "I would not know, but perhaps you are right. Your taste in these matters is always good."

In the end Caitlin had had her first choice. Enid had chosen for herself a fine indigo-blue fabric that complemented her silvery-white hair and a rose-colored silk. Dewi had taken a yellow and black brocade, leaving a coppery-colored and black silk brocade for Caitlin, who found it unusual and elegant. Dilys had chosen her favorite, a pale blue silk that matched her eyes and was embroidered with tiny silver stars. Enid had insisted that the rest of the fabrics belonged to Wynne, and had several fine new tunic dresses and under tunics made for her eldest grandchild. Still, there had been enough fabric left over for her sisters to make additional gowns.

"I do not know why you insisted on having so many things made for me," Wynne protested to Enid. "I already have enough to wear. More than enough!"

"Child, you have never been away from Gwernach," Enid counseled her. "Although I have never been to Raven's Rock Castle, I know it to be a place such as you cannot imagine. Madoc has done you a great kindness in sending these fabrics that you might make a new wardrobe for yourself. You will need it and more once you are his wife. Wait and see! I am right, for I have lived away from Gwernach. I know."

Her grandmother's words had touched a chord within Wynne, but she did not know why. How provincial would she seem to those who lived at Raven's Rock? What if they did not like her? She had always been liked by all who knew her, but all who knew her were of Gwernach, not strangers with strange ways in a strange place. The thought had nagged her ever since. Now tomorrow was upon her. Madoc and his sister would be here. In just a few days time she would be leaving the only home she had ever had. The only place she ever loved.

Wynne was angry at herself for what she deemed her own cowardice. Madoc, for what little she knew of him, was a kind man. Surely his people would be kind. If she was inexperienced in the ways of living in a fine castle, she would quickly learn new ways and correct any deficiencies in her knowledge. She would make friends. She had never had a friend. Only her sisters. No, that was not right. Einion was her friend, but he must remain behind to protect Dewi and Mair. And Madoc's sister would soon be leaving Raven's Rock for St. Bride's. Perhaps that singular similarity between them would make Nesta her friend, but would there be others? She felt uneasy in her heart, but as she was not a girl to dwell on what she considered foolishness, Wynne put these disturbing thoughts from her mind.

"There is nothing left to clean," Enid said, her voice replete with self-satisfaction. "There isn't a thing in this hall that hasn't been scrubbed twice over and polished within an inch of its life." She looked about her, smiling as she saw the relief etched into the faces about her. They had worked hard, and they had worked the house slaves equally as hard.

"If the bridegrooms ask," little Mair said mischievously, "shall we swear this is all Caitlin and Dilys's doing?"

Her grandmother and elder sister chuckled aloud.

"Fortunately," Wynne said, "the bridegrooms are young, Mair, and their first interest will be in the beauty of their brides. As our sisters are pretty girls, I think we may safely say our new relations will not be disappointed."

"Caitlin and Dilys have done nothing these past weeks but perfume themselves and rub their bodies with that wonderful cream you make from rendered lamb's fat and rose water," Mair said.

"There is more to my cream than that," Wynne laughed. "I had better teach you how to make it before I go, else I not have the chance again."

"Aye," Mair agreed, "you had better, sister, for Caitlin and Dilys have secreted all the jars of cream that you stored up in their chests and there is none left!"

Enid shook her head. "What will they do when it is no more, I wonder, since they were not interested in learning how to make it," she said.

"They will send to me at Raven's Rock," laughed Wynne, "demanding a supply instantaneously." Then she looked down at her little sister. "I have some of my cream hidden away where neither Caitlin or Dilys knows, and tomorrow we will make more!"

"But not for Caitlin and Dilys!" Mair said firmly.

"No," Wynne responded. "Not for Caitlin or Dilys."

And the following day when she was looking, she was certain, her absolute worst, Madoc and his sister arrived early. Wynne was in her pharmacea with Mair in her oldest tunic dress, a garment well-faded, not quite long enough, and with stains beneath the armpits, when Dewi came to get her. There was no way to the solar but through the hall. No way, therefore, of escaping the scrutiny of the prince and his sister, a dainty fairy of a girl whose eyes widened at her first sight of the barefooted Wynne of Gwernach.

"Could you not have sent a messenger ahead with a warning of your coming?" Wynne said irritably in greeting.

"But you knew we were expected today," Madoc replied, confused.

"But not when!" Wynne answered spiritedly. "I was in my pharmacea teaching Mair how to make my special body and face cream, for Caitlin and Dilys have depleted my stock entirely. What must your sister think of me to greet you both so and looking as I do?!"

Nesta of Powys burst out laughing. "Ohh," she said, gasping with her mirth. "I am so pleased you are not in awe of Madoc! I was so fearful of leaving him with some meek and mindless little thing who would jump with his every breath. If that cream of yours is responsible for your marvelous complexion, then I want to know how to make it too! Can we go back to your pharmacea now, sister? My brother is quite capable of fending for himself."

Sister. Nesta of Powys had called her sister as easily as if they had known each other their whole lives. Wynne felt a prickle of tears behind her eyes and swallowed hard, a smile creasing her lovely face as Madoc's sister slipped her arm through hers. They were going to be friends.

"You need not fear that my sister is docile and retiring," teased Dewi. "She is afraid of no man… or so she assures me. I have not, however, gained my full growth yet."

"Scamp!" Wynne chuckled, swatting affectionately at the lad.

She then led Nesta to her pharmacea, where Mair was carefully adding rose water to the creamy mixture. Introducing Madoc's sister to her own, Wynne set about to instruct both girls in the fine art of making her beauty cream. With three pairs of hands, her little stone crocks were soon filled, sealed carefully with beeswax covered with linen, and set upon a high back shelf where neither Caitlin nor Dilys would be apt to find them. Mair then ran off while Wynne and Nesta remained to restore order to the pharmacea.