Rhuddlan (66 page)

“He isn’t here, Dylan! He’s gone! The three
of them are gone!”

“From the first day you were determined to
treat Lady Teleri unkindly! How could you—”

Rhirid held up his hand. “Enough, Dylan!
Recriminations may come later. First I want to hear this story.” He
looked at Goewyn. “Are you saying Lady Teleri was taken by the
Normans as well?”

She nodded miserably. “We were betrayed,
lord. To our surprise, the man turned up in the women’s house this
afternoon, dripping with rain and very agitated. He told Olwen and
me that we must come down to the wood. We had to hurry, it was
urgent that we get to the wood right away. Of course we thought
something terrible had happened to Lady Teleri and off we went. The
man led us; kept telling us to hurry, hurry, hurry. He wouldn’t say
what was wrong no matter how often we asked him and after a while
we were so winded from rushing down the hillside and across the
fields that we couldn’t even ask anymore…”

She took another breath. “When we got there,
we saw three Norman soldiers on horseback. Lady Teleri was with
them. Olwen recognized one of the men immediately; I heard her gasp
and when I looked at her, she was staring white-faced at him. He
spoke to her and she grew paler and paler. I myself was so
frightened I was shaking like a leaf. Then Olwen told me what the
soldier had said to her, what I already told you…and…and off they
went.” She fell silent.

Rhirid was silent, too. He didn’t know if it
was because he was so tired that he wasn’t outraged over Goewyn’s
interference or because he was numb inside. His setbacks seemed
insurmountable. Both his hostages and possibly his best chance to
defeat Longsword in battle lost. Now he had no leverage and had
made an enemy of a more powerful man than the custodian of
Rhuddlan.

But worse than any of this: Olwen had been
taken away. He had failed to protect her and that made him no
better than her Norman consort. He wondered what Chester would do
with her. She wasn’t nearly as important a hostage as Teleri and
practically disposable.

“I swear to God, Goewyn, I warned you to keep
out of Rhirid’s business, didn’t I?” Dylan said, unable to keep
silent, breaking in on his thoughts. “Now the earl of Chester knows
where we are—he could bring Lady Teleri and Olwen back to Rhuddlan
and then he and Lord William could both send their armies against
us! What chance will we stand? And you say you want to save
Llanlleyn!”

For the first time in Rhirid’s memory, her
husband’s words caused panic in Goewyn. She turned to Rhirid and
pleaded frantically, “I’m truly sorry for what happened, lord! You
must believe me! I would never have done it if I’d even imagined it
might turn out this way!”

He felt drained; there wasn’t even a spark of
anger inside him to ignite against her. He looked blandly into her
anxious, tear-stained face and told her to attend to the feast.

He watched her walk across the length of the
chief’s house to the entrance and suddenly called her name. “I have
a question,” he said when she turned around. “If your plan had
succeeded as you’d wanted, how did you ever hope to explain Lady
Teleri’s disappearance to me?”

He couldn’t see her expression through the
murky distance but he heard her shaky laugh. “I wasn’t even going
to try, lord,” she said wryly. “Olwen would have done it.”

Chapter 43

June, 1177

Hawarden Castle, Gwynedd

When Hugh had attempted to divert Haworth’s
attention from their Welsh neighbors to the south by angrily
proposing he seek out Rhirid ap Maelgwn and force him to hand over
Olwen as promised, he hadn’t actually expected Haworth to succeed.
The man would have to avoid meeting the Bastard and then somehow
find Rhirid’s fortress without the benefit of a guide. When, two
days after this scene in his chamber, Hugh learned that Haworth had
gone off with a pair of soldiers who were fluent in Welsh, he’d
been not only struck once more with a sense of guilty
acknowledgment of Haworth’s incredible loyalty but also guilty
relief, imagining his captain would be out of the way for some time
and he would now be free to entertain Ralph de Vire as often as he
liked.

But Haworth had had phenomenal good fortune
and was back at Hawarden in four days, which not only ruined Hugh’s
plans but created a problem: what to do with his new hostages. He’d
probably looked as shocked as they had when he’d met them down in
the ward, disheveled and exhausted from the journey. The Bastard’s
wife, he noted, had lost most of her haughty self-possession along
the way; she was blessedly silent as a result.

He pretended a polite interest later that
evening as Haworth smugly related the story of their capture but he
was really trying to play out the situation in his mind. What did
it mean to the Bastard that his wife was now in the hands of his
old enemy? Would he be angry enough to come against Hawarden? Would
the confrontation begun at Dol finally conclude? The more he
thought about it, the more Hugh liked the idea of a physical
conflict with Rhuddlan.

“What do you suppose the Bastard’s wife was
doing at Llanlleyn?” he asked Haworth abruptly.

“Trying to escape,” Haworth replied and
laughed, flushed with his success and quite a bit of celebratory
wine. “At least, that’s what the Welshman we intercepted told us.
He was taking her to the prince.”

“The prince?” Hugh repeated sharply. “Not to
the Bastard?”

“The prince.”

That was a stroke of luck, he thought. He
wanted to remain on good terms with Dafydd; although he believed
the prince’s influence was slight, his access to fighting men made
him a good ally. Haworth’s incessant worries over Gruffudd ap Madog
had infected Hugh to a certain degree, even if he would never admit
it.

Haworth was watching him expectantly. He
smiled. “Well done, Roger,” he said. “I think you’ve shown our
erstwhile comrade who’s in charge. If I’d known it would be so easy
for you, I would have told you to take a score of men. Obliterate
the place…”

“My lord, we can!” Haworth took an eager, if
not unsteady, step forward. “Now we know the way—”

Hugh couldn’t help laughing. “You would leave
right this moment if I said the word, wouldn’t you?”

“You know I would do anything you ask, my
lord…”

The force of emotion behind the words struck
Hugh in the pit of his stomach but he kept the smile on his face.
“Yes…But Rhirid ap Maelgwn no longer concerns me, Roger. How do you
think the Bastard will react when he learns that I’ve got his
wife?”

When it came to military matters, Haworth’s
mind was sharp. He saw the implication of Hugh’s question
immediately. A grin slowly twisted his lips. “I’d say he’ll be very
happy, my lord.”

Hugh raised his eyebrows. “Happy, Roger?”

“Yes, my lord. He’ll see a chance to come
against you and hopefully finish you off—this time without any
interference from the king. He was fairly itching to attack you at
Rhuddlan, my lord. Only propriety held him back. This time, nothing
stands in his way.”

“I agree.” He added casually, “Do you see why
it was so important for Sir Ralph and I to discuss Rhuddlan and
Lord William to such great length? Although I couldn’t have
predicted your skillful contribution to my feud with the Bastard, I
knew sooner or later we’d meet again. I wanted to be ready.”

All animation left Haworth’s face. “Yes, my
lord,” he said stiffly.

Hugh stood up. “Well, we’ll speak more about
it tomorrow, Roger.” He yawned. “I’ll retire now.”

“My lord, would you like me to accompany
you?” Haworth asked, following him to the door. “Perhaps you have
further questions about Llanlleyn and what we saw there…”

Hugh paused on the threshold. “I appreciate
the offer, Roger, but I’m tired. Must be age. I’ll see you in the
morning. Good night.”

“Good night, my lord.” Haworth’s voice was so
low, Hugh barely heard it. Lately, Haworth’s devoted-dog behavior
prompted one of two responses in him; one was irritation and the
other—the one he felt tonight—was acute remorse. But he found the
more physical distance he put between Haworth and himself, the more
the feeling lessened, and by the time he reached the door to his
chamber, he wasn’t thinking of Haworth at all, only the younger man
who waited on the other side.

Teleri was awakened by a sudden burst of warm
sunlight on her face. Her eyes closed against the brightness, she
lay unconcerned for a moment, reveling in the comfort of the plump
mattress and soft pillows and feeling more relaxed than she had in
a long time. It was, she thought drowsily, so nice to be home
again; perhaps, in celebration, she would spend the entire day in
bed. She certainly deserved the respite from the world after the
harrowing experiences of the past several weeks. Especially that
encounter with the putrid, spitting man and his incessant
cough—

She opened her eyes in alarm, all at once
aware that she’d never made it to the Perfeddwlad, that instead she
was at Hawarden.

“Are you awake, my lady?” a voice asked
hesitantly.

A young woman stood at her bedside, simply
dressed and attentive. “I’m to wait upon you, my lady,” she
continued. “I can help you with your toilet now, if you like.”

Teleri pushed herself up in the bed. The side
of her face ached and reminded her of the blow she’d received.
“Where is the earl?”

“At Mass, my lady, and after that, he will be
at breakfast with his men. Do you care to join him?”

The idea of sitting in a crowded, noisy hall
made her shudder and hold her blanket closer. She couldn’t face a
room of strangers…she didn’t want to see anyone…

“No…” she said. “I’ll stay here.” She felt
uncharacteristically lethargic and shy. The memory of the events of
the last two days was slowly returning; the escape from Llanlleyn,
the plodding horse, the rain and the mud, the frightening meeting
with the Normans, the uncomfortable, sleepless night in the forest
on the way to Hawarden…But the worst memory was of her harsh
treatment. She’d been chased, struck, addressed without respect,
and abducted—against her will this time—and brought to Hawarden.
Apart from the arrangement of her marriage, there hadn’t been one
situation in her life which she hadn’t been able to successfully
manipulate to her advantage, until she’d entered Llanlleyn. It was
little wonder she felt overwhelmed by her current
circumstances.

“Where is Olwen?” she asked suddenly. “The
woman who was with me?”

“She was sent to the countess, my lady.”

The countess? Oh, yes…Gwalaes. Of course she
was here at Hawarden; where else? Her husband’s lover, the earl’s
wife, Bronwen’s mother… “Why? To act as one of her attendants?”

The other woman looked evasive. “I’m not
quite sure, my lady. I was told only that I must wait upon
you.”

“I would like to see her.”

“I’ll tell the steward, my lady. In the
meantime,” she added in a tactful tone, “do you care to bathe?”

Teleri was suddenly aware that the odor of
rough travel clung very strongly to her. She was embarrassed.
“Yes…but I haven’t got anything to wear. How can I meet the earl in
the rags I wore when I arrived here?”

“The seamstresses have been working since
dawn to make you a suitable gown, my lady, and the earl has
promised others. I’ll have a man bring up the tub and set it before
the brazier. Will that do? There’s always a slight chill to the
morning, even during this time of year…”

Teleri assented and gave herself up to the
woman’s ministrations. Perhaps after she was fed and bathed, and
dressed in proper clothing, she would feel like her old self. In
the meantime, she thought about the earl. Why had he taken her? Was
it because of the rancor between him and Longsword? And what were
his plans?

The more she considered the questions, the
more agreeable she found her situation. Apart from her uncle’s
domain, Hawarden was the next best place to be. The earl hated
Longsword almost as much as she did; perhaps even more, since his
discovery of his wife living at Rhuddlan under a false identity and
apparently sleeping in Longsword’s bed. How, then, could he be
anything but sympathetic to her plight? Teleri relaxed. She could
see nothing alarming in her kidnapping and nothing evil in the
earl’s plans for her.

When she finally met him later that
afternoon, she was, as she had anticipated, more certain of
herself. She hadn’t forgotten the tortures and humiliations of the
past several weeks but she wasn’t going to let them stifle her
natural, determined character. Washed and dressed in a becoming
dark green gown of an obviously expensive shiny material which had
yet to find its way to Rhuddlan, she entered the earl’s private
chambers with her head high. He bowed to her, she curtsied in
return. He offered her a cushioned seat and a servant brought her a
little stool for her feet.

There were several other men in the room but
no one she recognized. The face she had expected to see, Roger of
Haworth’s, was not in evidence and she was relieved. Haworth had
seemed jealous of the attention the earl had paid to her while at
Rhuddlan and he had been uncommunicative and rough on the way from
Llanlleyn to Hawarden.

The earl smiled expansively. “Lady Teleri,”
he said, “let me begin with an apology. I deeply regret what you’ve
had to endure these past few days at the hands of my men but I have
to say that you show no ill effect at all; in fact, you look
radiant as usual. But please—tell me the mark under your eye was
not left by one of us.”

Self-consciously, she raised her hand to the
side of her face. “No, my lord; this is a souvenier of
Llanlleyn.”

“You are well out of the place, my lady,” he
said quietly. “I cannot imagine anyone with the audacity to strike
such a beautiful woman.”