‘Are you there, Almeric, my son?’ asked the dying Countess.

‘I am here, Mother.’

‘You must leave for Wales as soon as the ship comes.’

‘We shall not leave you, Mother.’

‘’Twould be better for you to leave without delay.’

‘Do not fret about the matter. Rest assured all will be well.’

‘Take care of your sister.’

‘Trust me, dear Mother, to do that.’

She closed her eyes as though in relief.

She was right. They should leave as soon as the ship came. Messengers could be arriving at any moment to tell them they should set out. His sister would never agree to leave her mother though – nor would he.

Ever since Evesham the family fortunes had been in decline. Oh how foolish of Guy and Simon to commit a murder which shocked the world! Guy had always been violent and he had hated his cousin Edward; he used to say Edward had everything in his favour. Perhaps in those days in the royal schoolroom they had all been a little envious of Edward. The Golden Boy, the King’s son, the heir to the throne. The one who gave himself airs and tried to rule them all – taller than any of them, the one who was selected for attention and homage even in those days. Guy had hated him and tried to turn them all against him. Henry of Cornwall had been one of those boys – the eldest – and he had been Edward’s staunch ally. Henry the noble boy, who led Edward along the path of virtue. Edward the future King, Henry the saint. It was small wonder that they had made Henry their victim. Almeric could imagine the vicious joy with which Guy had mutilated Henry’s body.

Oh it was a foolish thing to have done. It had set the whole world against them. It had brought disrepute on the great de Montfort name. Now when people mentioned it they spoke of the murder rather than the great good which their father Simon de Montfort had brought to England.

Almeric would never forget that time when he had been accused with his brothers of the murder. This was a great trial to him for not only had he been educated in the Church but he was innocent of the crime. It was easy for him to be arrested as he had been working in the university of Padua at the time. Thank God he had been able to prove that he had been nowhere near Viterbo when the murder had been committed and had in fact been desperately ill with a fever.

Now he had been called to his mother’s bedside and it occurred to him that if this marriage into Wales could be brought about and Llewellyn became King of England, the fortunes of the de Montforts would be reversed. His sister Queen of England! Proud Edward deposed! What a glorious prospect. And Merlin had prophesied that a Llewellyn should be a King of England. If it were this Llewellyn …

His mother’s breathing was becoming more difficult. He wondered if he should call the priest.

His sister came in and when she looked at the bed her beautiful eyes were sorrowful.

She knelt by the bed, and her mother sensing her presence stretched out a hand.

Eleanor took it.

‘I am here, Mother,’ she said.

‘Go … and be happy,’ said the Countess. ‘Almeric …’

‘Yes, my lady.’

‘Take care of your sister. Promise me. Take her to her bridegroom. Start afresh … Do not grieve.’

She closed her eyes, smiling. Perhaps, thought the young Eleanor, she was thinking of her own marriage; those days when she, the bold adventurous princess, widow of an old man, had met and loved the handsome Simon de Montfort – the man who was to make his mark on history – the one whom they called the adventurer.

They had adventured together and the adventure was coming to an end. She was dying and Simon de Montfort had met his end long ago on the battlefield of Evesham.

A gentle reminiscent smile was on the lips of the Countess de Montfort as she slipped away from this life.


* * *

There was no reason why they should delay, said Almeric when news came that Llewellyn, Prince of Wales, had sent two ships to escort his bride to her new home.

The Countess was buried in the nunnery of Montargis in accordance with her wishes and after this had been done the young Demoiselle with her brother as escort made her way to the coast where the ships were waiting to take them to Wales.

Those ships were good to look on. Llewellyn had clearly sent of his best and they were equipped with everything for his bride’s comfort. He had sent a company of knights and men-at-arms to protect her should the need arise.

And so they set sail. As the coast of France faded from sight the crew grew apprehensive. It was to be hoped that news of the journey might not have reached English ears but this seemed unlikely as there were always spies to betray such news and the discovery of Merlin’s prophecy had naturally been blazoned throughout the country. It was good from the Welsh point of view for the English to know this. There was nothing like a prophecy of this nature to strike terror into the hearts of enemies. If the English believed that supernatural powers were working against them they were halfway to defeat.

It would be a long journey, for the party dared not land in England or be seen by the English ships. Therefore the passage through the English Channel would be hazardous indeed.

Fears increased as they caught sight of the coast of England. The navigator dreaded a strong wind which might blow them close to the land and worst of all force them to take shelter. Great was their elation when they saw that the end of the land was in sight. Once they had rounded the tip known as Land’s End they could sail straight up to Wales.

Alas, as they changed course preparing to sail northwards, four merchant vessels were seen bearing down upon them.

The two Welsh ships had no chance against them.

Proudly the English captain escorted his captives back to Bristol and immediately sent a message to the King that his mission had been successfully accomplished.


* * *

Llewellyn ab Gruffyd Prince of Wales was mad with rage when he heard that his bride had been captured by the English.

What of this fine prophecy! Was he always to be beaten by the English? He, Llewellyn ab Gruffyd, the elect – if Merlin’s prophecy did indeed point to him – to be failed once more by the English and just as his Demoiselle was to be brought to him!

He had dreamed of her for many years. He would marry no other. He would never forget her – a beautiful child with eyes that had shone with admiration for him when she had heard that she was to be his wife. That had been years ago when her father Simon de Montfort had been a great power in England and it had appeared that he would depose the King. If only the tide had not turned against Simon, the Demoiselle would long since have been his wife.

The disaster had been due to Edward who had escaped from captivity and beaten the de Montfort army – Edward Longshanks, who looked like a conqueror and was one.

Edward had inspired the faith which leaders demanded – the sort of faith which a prophecy by Merlin could produce. Edward had the looks, the manners, the strength of a king. Only the supernatural could come against him. And Merlin had prophesied …

Llewellyn had never believed that Edward could outwit him and take his bride from him, and it had shaken him to realise that the first move in the attempt to make Merlin’s prophecy come true had failed.

Life had not been easy for him. When had it ever been for a Prince of Wales? If he was not harried by the English on his borders it was trouble in his own family.

In the first place it had been bad luck to be born the second son of Gruffydd ab Llewellyn; not that he had not overcome that difficulty for Owain, his elder brother, was now in safe custody, his prisoner.

But family conflict was not good and he would have preferred to have had loyal brothers – providing of course he had been the eldest. A series of adventures had brought him to his present position.

Wales was a constant anxiety to England but no more so than England was to Wales. The Celtic Welsh were different from the English. That mixed race, made up of some of the greatest warriors in the world, like the adventuring Vikings, and with the blood of the Angles, Saxons and Romans in their veins, were born to be rulers and conquerors. The Welsh like the Celts of the North and those who lived in the extreme south-west corner of England were of a different breed. They liked to sing and play the lute or harp, for music meant a great deal to them; they were poetic and they had vivid imaginations which bred superstition in them. They were full of fancies; and it had seemed that they were no match for that hybrid race which now called itself the English.

To sally forth from the mountains and make war on the English could be disastrous. Llewellyn thanked God for the mountains. They had saved his country from being overrun by the invading English many a time.

William the Conqueror had known he could conquer the Welsh but even he could not conquer their mountains. He it was who had established the Marcher Barons – great Normans headed by lords like the FitzOsborns and Montgomeries. For two hundred years the Marcher Barons had ruled that no man’s land.

Now there was Merlin’s prophecy. Llewellyn believed that he must be the chosen one. He did wonder why the Llewellyn in the prophecy had not been his grandfather, a mighty warrior to whom many had looked for the deliverance of Wales from the English persecution. He had been known as Llewellyn the Great because it was said he was the greatest ruler Wales had known in all her history up to that time.

There must be a greater … Merlin’s chosen.

Looking back it seemed there had been too much fighting among themselves. No country could make progress when brother fought against brother. But that was how it was now and had been in the days of Llewellyn the Great.

Men of Wales sang of Llewellyn the Great, son of Iorwerth who in his turn was the only son of Orwain Gwynedd who could call himself legitimate. They were a wild and roving lot those rulers of Wales – loving to sing and make love wherever they went. And as a consequence, boys learned of the exploits of their ancestors through the songs which were sung at their mothers’ knees and those mothers were rarely the wives of their fathers.

Llewellyn’s own father, Gruffydd, was the result of a liaison between Llewellyn the Great and one of his many mistresses. Llewellyn had had a wife though and she was a daughter of King John of England. Her name was Joan and though illegitimate the King accepted her as his daughter and she, being a woman of character, had tried to bring about peace between Wales and England. After the death of King John she had continued to work for friendly relations between her husband and her half-brother Henry III; in the meantime she produced a son Davydd who naturally thought he had a greater claim to succeed his father than Gruffydd had.

Wales more than most countries had need of a strong man and old Llewellyn was certainly that. He it was who laid the foundations of a great power and showed the English that Wales was a country to be reckoned with. He was also a man who could act forcibly in his domestic relations as he had shown over his wife Joan’s love affair with William de Broase. This was still sung of in ballads.

William de Broase had been captured by Llewellyn and held as his prisoner. To obtain his release he offered to pay a ransom and to give his daughter Isabella as wife to Llewellyn’s son. This offer had tempted Llewellyn greatly for he saw in de Broase a rich and powerful ally. However, while de Broase was in captivity it had been the habit of Llewellyn’s wife Joan to visit him in his prison chamber and they found a great mutual interest in songs and stories of England, for Joan could not forget that although she was the wife of a Welsh ruler she was the daughter of an English king. Broase and Joan fell in love and when these visits of his wife to his prisoner’s chamber were brought to Llewellyn’s ears he decided to lay a trap for the lovers. This he did and they were caught. Llewellyn’s indignation was great but he did not punish his wife, nor did he stop the arranged marriage. He merely brought William de Broase from the prison chamber, announced his crime and hanged him publicly at the town of Crokeen in the presence of many witnesses.

This act was applauded. He had punished the adulterer and at the same time lost none of the advantages which his heir’s marriage to de Broase’s daughter would bring.