For the purposes of this novel, I have constricted the passage of time and altered a few historic events to suit my romantic inclination to make things turn out happily ever after. A
bardd teulu
would tell you that such is the right of all storytellers.
In 1157, Henry II of England did invade Wales. At the time, it was not a country so much as a collection of tiny kingdoms with a predilection for fighting more among themselves than against their common enemy. But there did emerge a strong leader in Owain, Prince of Gwynedd. And he fought Henry to a standstill.
Owain and Henry signed a truce, whereby the English king recognized the right of the Welsh to rule themselves. In return Owain swore fealty to Henry. He also gave up Rhuddlan Castle and the lands known as the Tegeingl, and he surrendered two of his sons as hostages. (Owain, the Prince of Gwynedd, had nine sons by three different women. The history books neglect to mention whether he had any daughters.)
One hot August seven years later, Henry invaded Wales again. The English were crossing the Berwyn mountain range when they were struck by a freakish rain
storm. Henry’s army, already decimated by the storm, was attacked by the Welsh and destroyed. Henry flew into one of his famous rages and ordered his Welsh hostages blinded. The command was carried out, but even for that violent time many were sickened when they learned of Henry’s retribution. It was an act of barbarism he never lived down.
The rainstorm that was Henry’s undoing was unseasonable and violent, seeming to come out of nowhere and then disappearing just as quickly—yet the result was that once again the hated English were driven from Wales. Welsh liberty was preserved.
As for that strange and violent storm—historians have never been able to explain it. Some say it never really happened after all, but is only folklore as sung by bards. Yet this much is known: in all the Celtic tales of
magi,
the wizards all share the same powers … and one of those powers is the ability to conjure storms out of a clear blue sky.
Romance is part of the blood and earth of Wales. That tiny country is the birthplace of some of the most romantic tales ever recorded. Of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, of Tristan and Isolde. And of that quintessential wizard, Merlin, or Myrddin as he is called in Welsh. The origins of these tales go back to the time of the Celts, and in these earlier stories there ran a common theme—that a man could be redeemed by the spiritual and physical love of a woman. Often he was sent on a quest to win the woman’s love, and once won, the woman’s love in turn gave him immortal life.
What stories these are, what lessons they teach us. That the redemption of mankind comes through woman, for she takes man’s seed, nurtures it within her, and brings it forth into the world. That love is often a quest, to be earned and deserved before it is given. That love can be lusty and earthy, as well as emotional and spiritual….
But above all that love is forever.
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Copyright © 1992 by Penelope Williamson
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