Footsteps in Time (14 page)

“
Can you ride and change
her at the same time?” Anna said.

Heledd looked at her
askance, but dug into her pack and pulled out some clothes for
Gwenllian. It was quite an operation, and Anna was glad she wasn’t
doing it.

She walked a little ahead
to talk to Hywel. “Do you think it’s really thirty miles to
Dolwyddelan?”

“
At least,” he said. “We
should walk without stopping, if we can.”

“
If we can,” Anna said. At
two miles an hour, it would take fifteen hours if they walked
straight through the night.

“
If Heledd can make it,”
Hywel said.

Anna looked back at her,
content now with Gwenllian nursing in her arms. “If Heledd can make
it.”

They’d traveled less than half the
distance, perhaps twelve miles by Hywel’s reckoning, when Heledd’s
fever worsened. The roughness of the terrain had forced them onto
the road so at least walking was less difficult; Anna took the
once-again-wakeful Gwenllian from her. Shortly thereafter, Heledd
rested her head on Madoc’s neck, hung her arms on either side of
him, and fell asleep astride, her dress scrunched up around her
thighs, exposing her woolen leggings. It was an amazing feat and
Anna was envious, having not slept herself for two days.

Looking at Heledd, Anna had to face
that their task might well be hopeless. Eighteen more miles could
be eighteen hundred for all the difference it would make. Anna was
a coddled child of the twenty-first century, deluded in imagining
this journey was possible. What did she know of Wales and horses,
and travel on foot at night in the middle of winter? Snow is
utterly beautiful when one is inside a centrally heated home in
Pennsylvania. It’s freezing and awful when one is walking beside a
feverish friend on a pony, two days into a trek across medieval
Wales.

Clouds hovered near
the ground and it was so dark Anna couldn’t even see her feet.
Eventually, Hywel took the initiative and led them off the road
because Anna was too depressed and exhausted to do it. Within a few
paces, he found a shelter of sorts in the craggy rocks. Anna
thought of Sam, from
The
Lord of the Rings,
who
says: “If this is shelter, then two walls and no roof make a
house!” At least the hobbits had Aragorn and Gandalf to lead the
way. Here it was only Hywel and her, stumbling about in the
dark.

They lifted Heledd off Madoc’s back
and huddled together to keep warm as best they could. That
Gwenllian was relatively content, Anna took as a small miracle, but
they needed a much bigger one as compensation for the terrible
state Heledd was in. She burned fiery hot and they couldn’t get her
warm, even with her nursing Gwenllian, snuggled between Hywel and
Anna.

The next morning, when
Hywel and Anna woke, they didn’t have to speak to know the truth,
but what could they do but go on? Miserable, cold, and hungry, they
set out again, braving the open road and daylight for the relative
speed they offered. Heledd hung onto Madoc for dear life. After
they’d traveled some hours, the situation began to worsen, if that
was even possible. They felt, and then heard, pounding hooves
behind them. Hastily, they pulled Madoc off the trail and into the
trees. Within minutes, three riders passed at speed. Anna couldn’t
believe the English would make their presence so obvious this far
into Gwynedd, but then, Castell y Bere had been unprepared for
treachery too.

Shortly after the riders disappeared,
it began to snow. It started slowly, gradually building to a
constant, thick, heavy downpour, coating the companions’ cloaks and
hoods. Anna hugged Gwenllian to her, trying to shelter her from the
worst of it. They plodded another mile, with the wind picking up
with every step.

Then Heledd spoke. “I’m
quite warm now, really.”

Anna whipped around in time to see her
begin a slow tumble off the horse. Moving fast, Hywel caught her as
she fell, and then laid her on the ground. At first, Anna could
only stare at her dumbly. Heledd didn’t move and Anna could hardly
comprehend the enormity of the disaster into which she’d led her
friends.

My fault, my fault,
my fault.
The litany rolled on in Anna’s
head as she shifted Gwenllian in her sling and knelt to hold
Heledd’s hand. It was cold beyond imagining while her forehead was
so hot it could have melted snow. Appalled, Anna pulled back
Heledd’s cloak and put her ear to Heledd’s chest. She was
breathing, but shallowly.

Swallowing hard, Anna tried to marshal
her thoughts. Hywel leaned down to speak in Anna’s ear but the
rushing in her ears was so loud she couldn’t make out his words,
other than that they were urgent. Desperate, Hywel grabbed Anna by
the shoulders, hauled her to her feet, and pushed her to one side
so he could get to Heledd. He picked her up, staggering under the
burden. Anna watched him numbly, hugging Gwenllian to her
chest.

And then Anna saw what Hywel had
feared: a man on a warhorse, coming at them out of the whirl of
snow.

“
My lord!” Hywel said.
“Please help us!”

Anna blinked and her
eyes cleared. The man wasn’t English as she’d feared, but a
Welshman, and a knight at that, complete with sword, mail hauberk,
cloak, and mighty horse. He was young, with dark hair, dark blue
eyes, and the fair skin that revealed his Celtic ancestry. Anna had
seen him with David in the few days before the army left for
Dolwyddelan and tried to remember his name.
Rhys, probably, or another Gruffydd
.

The knight approached and leaned
forward to scrutinize their faces. “Who are you?”

Anna fumbled for the words, for Welsh
always abandoned her when she was stressed. “I’m Anna, with
Gwenll—”

“
The prince’s daughters?”
the man said.

“
Yes, yes!” Anna nearly
collapsed with relief.

“
Praise God!” the man said.
“Riders from the south brought word that you were either dead or
taken by the English! They captured Castell y Bere, slaughtered the
garrison, and turned the rest out into the snow. They burned the
bodies and the castle and left all in ruins. None of those left
alive knew what became of you.”

“
Slaughtered the garrison
... Gwladys ...” The world began to darken around the edges and
Anna swayed. She gritted her teeth and put her forehead into the
horse’s side, determined not to pass out.

The man dismounted and took
Heledd from Hywel. “Get on the pony.”

Hywel leapt on Madoc, and
the man passed Heledd to him.

Then he mounted his horse
again and leaned down to give Anna his arm. Confused, Anna stared
at it. Obviously the man was insane.

“
Take my arm,” he said,
patiently. “I am Mathonwy ap Rhys Fychan, nephew to Prince
Llywelyn. I will take you to Dolwyddelan.”

Anna reached for him and
with a heave, he pulled her in front of him without even squashing
Gwenllian. Then, he grasped her waist, lifted her, seemingly
without effort, and settled her side-saddle in front of him.
Gwenllian stirred, and Anna patted her back to calm her.

“
You are not well,”
Mathonwy said. “The air is cold, yet your face is hot and
flushed.”

Anna put a hand to her forehead and
felt the heat of fever. “How did you find us?”

“
Word reached us this
morning of the fate of Castell y Bere. Your father sent scouts to
determine how far into Gwynedd the English have pushed, as well as
to seek word of you.”

“
Hywel and I stumbled upon
the English encampment while we were riding. We overheard their
plans and fled the castle before dawn, the day of the attack, with
Heledd, the baby’s nurse.” Anna paused to look back. “Is she still
living?”

“
Yes,” Mathonwy said,
“though she’s very ill. You too are fevered and I must get you all
to the prince quickly. It won’t take long. We’re not far from the
castle.”

As he spoke, Mathonwy
gathered the reins in one hand and steadied Anna with the other.
She rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. She told
herself it was only for a moment but she was running hot and cold
at the same time and just wanted to sleep.

They rode through the blowing snow and
Anna would have dozed off, but for Gwenllian’s increasing
restlessness. She was hungry and Anna was sure her clothes were wet
beneath the blankets. Anna pulled her woolen hat further over her
ears, tucking in stray blonde curls in the process.

Finally, a shout came from
Dolwyddelan’s ramparts. Mathonwy tightened his grip on Anna and
urged his horse faster. Another shout came and the gate to the
castle burst open. Half a dozen men cantered toward them, David in
the lead. Relief flooded through Anna at the sight of him and she
sat up straighter. David turned his horse to ride beside
Mathonwy.

“
My lord Prince,” Mathonwy
said.

Anna canted her head to look at
David.

He glared at her.
“Anna.”

She flopped a weak hand at
him. “You’re angry again. Don’t be angry.”

David had the grace to look
chastened. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“
I did what needed to be
done,” Anna said. “I’m sorry you were worried.”

“
Sorry?” His voice rose
again. “We lost a castle and a dozen men, but somehow we didn’t
lose you or Gwenllian. I can’t understand how it is that you’re
here, safe, with Math.”

“
It was a long road, David,
and Heledd is very ill,” Anna said. “Hywel helped too—I couldn’t
have made the journey here without him.”

David glanced back at Hywel, who
looked up, his eyes clear and awake, despite the deep shadows under
them.

“
Let her be, my lord,”
Mathonwy said. “She’s ill too.”

David seemed to gather himself. “Thank
you, sir, for rescuing my sister.”

“
I believe she rescued
herself, my lord,” Mathonwy said. “I merely came upon her at the
last pass.”

“
I was about to give up,”
Anna said.

“
I don’t believe that, my
lady,” Mathonwy said. “Maybe you would give up for yourself, but
not for Heledd or Hywel or Gwenllian.” Anna tipped up her chin to
look into Math’s face. He smiled down at her. “You are too much of
a Welsh princess to give up.”

Anna began to reply that she wasn’t
really a princess—not even Welsh for that matter, though she didn’t
think she should go into that just now—when they clattered across
the wooden bridge that led through to the gates to Dolwyddelan
Castle.

As on that first evening at Castell y
Bere, people filled the bailey. Prince Llywelyn waited at the top
of the stairs to the keep and hurried down the steps to greet them
when they rode in. Mathonwy bowed his head. One of the women
hurried over and reached up to take Gwenllian from Anna. Grateful,
Anna passed her off, but as Mathonwy dismounted behind her, Anna
found herself falling off the horse. He caught her before she’d
fallen far, and even though Anna thought to stand, he wouldn’t have
it. With her in his arms, Mathonwy led the way into the great hall,
David and Prince Llywelyn following behind.

Chapter Ten

David

T
he rain had poured down all night long, plunking on David’s
helmet until he thought he’d go mad at the constant noise.
Fortunately, the rain was so loud, the English couldn’t hear the
unnatural sounds of rain on metal. All six thousand of Father’s
army had moved in the night and spread out along a ridge facing
west, so as to overlook the Conwy Valley all along its length. The
sun had begun to add a hint of light to what had been a very dark
night, and would rise fully within the hour. Father had hoped to
attack sooner, but no one—Welsh or English—had been able to see his
hand in front of his face until five minutes ago.

In summer, the Valley had some of the
richest farmland in north Wales. At the moment, it was a fifteen
mile-long bog, in which seven thousand English soldiers camped.
Father had assigned David’s company to the southernmost end of the
English lines. David peered at them from the trees, a tenth of a
mile from where the English had camped.

Although the English
soldiers didn’t know it, they’d set up camp closer to the woods
than they should have, further from their fellows than they should
have, and with fewer men than they should have had, fewer than one
hundred. The men huddled under blankets in the rain, with neither
fire nor tents. They had to be praying that the rain would stop but
also had to know in their hearts that it wouldn’t. This was winter
in Wales. The fishermen had been right about the weather, and in
another minute the Welsh would begin to make the English pay for
their hubris and conceit in attacking Castell y Bere, thinking they
could conquer Wales while David’s father lived to defend
it.

With Anna’s arrival
in Dolwyddelan, what had started out as a strategy had turned into
a mission. Two days ago, the snow had stopped falling. The morning
had dawned bright, crisp and clear, unusual for Wales at any time.
Taking it as a positive sign,
Edward had
marshaled his army and headed into the mountains in earnest,
following the east bank of the Conwy River. By evening, however,
the wind had begun to blow from the southwest and almost
imperceptibly at first, the weather began to
warm.