The Brothers of Gwynedd (42 page)

Howbeit, we went, leaving Dynevor two days earlier than we should otherwise have done, to the disappointment of the Lady Gladys, who had found great joy in this unlooked-for reunion with her brothers. For there was something in her of David, without his penetration, in that everything she did was done with her might, whether it was loving or hating, and gratitude came as impulsively to her as either of these, so that after his generous and skilful championship of her husband's cause among his peers there was now no one in the world for her like Llewelyn, against whom she had once been implacable.

  We went south by Carreg Cennen to Neath, and from there ranged for two days eastward along the fringes of the earl's honour, sacking his manors and levelling his defences, with little resistance. So unprepared for us were they—for I think they had believed us already on our way north again, the king's threat being now so close— that we were able to split our forces into two, and even three, parties, and so range further afield than we could have done with a single army, though not attempting any fortified place while we were so divided. Then we met together again for an attack upon the earl's castle of Llangynwyd, finding it close at hand and in no great state for standing us off, for though well-manned it was in some disrepair.

  The garrison put up but a very brief fight. I think a number of them were Welshmen not greatly affected to their lord. Then, when we pressed home our attack, many of them escaped by a postern and fled into the valleys of the small rivers that flanked the castle, where there were woods to give them cover, and so scattered to take refuge in two or three fortified manors belonging to the earl, which could be reached quickly from that place.

  Llewelyn was not slow to consider that those who ran might well number among them some of Rhys's men, not yet apprised of the change in their lord's fortunes, and none too happy in the service of the English earl. Therefore he detailed off three small parties of us to beat the woods in the direction of those manors, and take up, if we could, such stragglers as would accept Welsh service in its place, while he and the greater part of our host laid waste the defences of Llangynwyd to make it untenable against us for some time in the future. Of these three parties he gave me one, and we rode due east, down from the highlands where the castle stood, into a river valley well-treed and rich and beautiful. We were but seven men with myself, and we had orders not to adventure against any companies in arms, but to use our Welsh tongues to lure the Welsh, and let the English alone. And so we did, and sent several promising fighting men back to Llangynwyd with tokens from us to ensure them a welcome.

  We had reached the limits of our territory, and camped for the night before returning, for the weather was hot and kindly, and we had ample provisions, and good horses if we should need to elude some unexpected attack. Against such possibility we put out two pickets, and took our rest by turns in the grass under the trees. We were not far from one of the small, clear rivers of that country, which covered us by the south approach with a coil of its waters, and at earliest dawn, awaking, I thought with pleasure on that cool stream, and walked down to its banks to bathe. The river-bed being stony and turbulent where the curving channel was worn, I thought there might well be a quiet, spreading pool below, where the ground opened out a little, though still well wooded, and so walked down in that direction, and found it to be as I had supposed. I shed my clothes in the grass among the trees, and was about to cross the open sward to the gentlyshelving bank, when I heard a light splash as of a big fish rising, or a diver entering the water, and froze where I was, still within cover. And in a moment I heard someone before me, at no great distance but hidden beyond the silvery alders, begin to sing, by watery snatches as he swam, a light love-song.

  A high, pleasant voice it was, and it sang in Welsh. I was in two minds whether to go back and put on my clothes, but here was an evident Welshman, and as evidently alone, for no man sings like that but for his own private pleasure. And if this was one of those scattered souls I was seeking, I could hardly affright him if I came to the bank as I was, or have much to fear in my turn from his nakedness. Then I thought to draw nearer to him, still in cover, for I judged he had entered the water from my side of the river, and somewhere nearby he must have discarded his own clothing. So I went softly between the trees, and found he had left more than shirt and chausses unguarded, for there was a horse grazing on a long halter in the sward, and saddle and leather body-harness and lance propped against the bole of an oak. His sword lay there beside, and a saddle-roll with his cloak strapped to it. This one had not fled from Llangynwyd entirely unprovided!

  Coming thus between him and his armaments, I was at advantage over him, and had no need to demonstrate it by any show. I went down through the trees to the bank, which sloped down to a little sickle of gravel.

  He was there in midstream, turning and plunging like a gleaming fish, and as I watched he struck out almost silently for the bank opposite, reached two long, muscular arms out of the water, and hauled himself up to turn and sit in the short turf, dangling his feet in the shallows. In the act of turning thus, he saw me and was abruptly still and silent, though for a moment only. It was not surprise or fear, but the wild wariness of woodland animals that gazed across the river at me, measured and weighed me, and was assured of being able to outrun or outwit at need. He laughed and said:

  "Goodmorrow to you, Adam! But I had rather it had been Eve who came." And he drew up one long leg out of the water, and wrapped his arms about his knee and studied me as I was studying him, with his wet hair plastered over his forehead and temples, and the drops running down through the golden-brown curls that matted his chest.

  He was younger than I by a few years, and very finely and gracefully made, for a Welshman uncommonly fair. The streaming locks on his brow looked no darker than wheat, even thus full of river water, and when dry showed almost flaxen. He was gilded round the jaw and lips with a short, bright stubble, but clearly he went normally shaven clean like a clerk. Under easy golden brows he gazed at me with round brown eyes, for as yet I had not spoken, and what is there in a naked man to make clear if he is English or Welsh? I had it in my mind that this debonair and gay young man had all those lean, long muscles braced for action, for all his smooth face. But whether he had more reason to fight shy of English or Welsh I could not yet be sure.

  "You need not trouble yourself," I said in his own tongue, and watched his shoulders relax and his smile widen, "at least I'm no serpent. Your beast and your gear are safe enough for me, but lest you should entertain any thought of meddling with my goods, let me tell you we are seven, and a whistle would fetch the rest running."

  "Also Welsh, like you?" he said.

  "Every man."

  He jutted a thoughtful lip at me, and said with certainty: "But
you
were not at Llangynwyd, that I know!"

  "Then your knowledge is at fault, for I was, and so were we all. But of the other party. And be easy, we mean no harm to any man who ran from there, not if he be Welsh. We have a message to you. Where were you meaning to head now? For one of Gloucester's manors?"

  He did not answer that at first, but laughed to himself, and slid down into the river again. "Come in," he said, making strokes just strong enough to hold him motionless against the current, "since I take it that's what you came for. There's water enough for two, and on my part no haste." And he rolled over and plunged out of sight, to reappear on my side of the deeper passage.

  So I leaped in and joined him, and we swam a while, and lay in the shallows together after, letting the cool of the flow stream over our shoulders and down our loins. He lowered his head back into it until only the oval of his face broke the surface, and his hair stood wavering out from his temples like yellow weed or pale fern.

  "To tell truth," he said then, "I was wondering myself what the next move was to be. For I was never much enamoured of Earl Richard's service, and in any manor of his I might find my welcome altogether too warm. For I reckon I was the first out at the postern at Llangynwyd, and with horse and harness that were not mine until yesterday. And though I have a brother who is lord of a manor in Brecknock, I fear I made that sanctuary too hot to hold me some years ago, his wife being young and pretty. And I can hardly go back to my old service at Dynevor, since Rhys Fychan was thrown out of it, for his uncle Meredith is no friend of mine."

  "Then you've not heard the news," I said. "For Rhys Fychan is back in Dynevor, and in pledged allegiance to Prince Llewelyn and his confederacy of Wales, and the very message I had for you is that the door's open to any who care to go that road with him. You may ride back when you will, and the gift of one of Gloucester's horses won't come amiss there, either. Or you may go partway with us, for we go back to Llangynwyd, and then northwards for Gwynedd."

  "No!" he cried between delight and disbelief, and rose in a fountain of sparkling drops to stare at me. "Is that true? Rhys has changed sides, and been well received? How did this come about? I thought that was an irreconcilable enmity on both sides."

  I told him briefly the way of it, and he sank into the water again with a crow of joy. "I am glad of it!" he said, lying still and straight there like a drowned man. "I was Rhys's man until Llewelyn broke him, and I'd as lief be his man again, all the more if he's quit his English allegiance. Right joyfully I'll ride with you. You said truly, no serpent but an angelic voice! May I know who it is comes to point me my way? Surely no two friends ever saw more of each other at first meeting!" And he laughed. His was a face very well acquainted with laughter, by the lines of it.

  I told him I was Samson, Llewelyn's clerk, and asked his name in return. In utter innocence I asked it, so pleasant and strange was this encounter, with some quality in it of dreaming. Until then, when I awoke.

  He said, easy and content, with his eyes closed: "My name is Godred ap Ivor."

The bright, bracing chill of the water was suddenly harsh as ice flowing down breast and belly and thigh, the blood so stayed in me at the name. And he lay soothed and smiling and blind beside me, his head tilted back, the large, lace-veined eyelids bland and still.

  I rose with infinite care upon my elbow and looked down at him, thus oblivious, never knowing what he had done to me, feeling nothing of the immense loss and grief that weighed upon my heart, filling me slowly like pain poured from a vessel. I looked about us, and there was no man to see and no man to hear, no man to know that I had ever met him in this place. And all I had to do was fill one hand with that floating hair, drag his head down under the water, and roll over upon him to hold him under until he drowned. And no one would know. What would he be but a fugitive knight who had left horse and harness lying, and gone to bathe in a river whose currents he did not know? For months we had written him down as dead. So brief and easy a gesture now to make it true, and Cristin would be free.

  That was so terrible a moment of temptation, and came upon me so like a lightning-flash out of a clear sky, that I cannot bear even now to remember it. I do believe with all my heart that there is no man who cannot kill, given the overwhelming need and the occasion. And if I did not, it was not out of any honourable resistance on my part, it was because of Cristin, who did not want him dead, but wanted him living.

  And he lay by me in his comely nakedness, the worst offence of all, arrogantly sure of his safety, feeling nothing, fearing nothing.

  "Get up, then, Godred ap Ivor," I said, when I could speak without suffocating or cursing, "and set about getting dry, while I tell you something that concerns you nearly, and only you. For that name I have known now for many months. I have been looking for you all this time."

  At that he opened his eyes wide, in surprise and interest but without disquiet, and leaping up in a great wave of water, waded ashore to where the risen sun gilded the grass, and for want of cloth or kerchief to dry himself, began to dance and turn about in the sunshine. I followed him ashore more slowly. Even the night had been warm and gentle, and the morning came in quivering heat. lit was no labour to dry off in that radiant air.

  "I feel," said Godred, clapping his arms about his shoulders, "the honour of having had your attention. But how or why is mystery to me. What is it you have to tell?

  "You had a wife," I said, the words coming thick and slow upon my tongue, "who was in the Lady Gladys's services and fled with her from Dynevor last December."