Rhuddlan (93 page)

The older boy saw his mother and now he, too,
began wailing. The woman with the children lost control of herself
and started crying as well. Haworth’s horse made its displeasure
with this bellowing known by snorting loudly and trying to move
away. Haworth had to press his lips together to prevent himself
ordering the three hostages killed immediately, just for the peace.
But at last his patience was rewarded. Olwen abruptly disappeared
from view and a small crowd of men took her place. The foremost one
was Guri. Haworth walked his horse forward a few paces and, despite
the fact that the Welsh couldn’t understand him and his translator
was at his side, raised his deep voice and hurled it against the
fortress before him.

The sounds of urgent voices and hurried
activity woke Longsword from a sleep which hadn’t been particularly
peaceful anyway. He’d spent most of the night trying to think of an
argument to convince Guri to ask for a parley with fitz Maurice.
All he could come up with was the truth, which itself sounded like
a flimsy story and not like the truth.

He fretted about Rhuddlan. What was happening
there? Would Teleri obey his wishes and keep Haworth out and the
earl in? The longer this confinement lasted, the easier it would be
for her resolve to weaken.

Then there were voices outside his door, one
male, low and calm and the other female, high-pitched, louder and
almost hysterical. That one belonged to Olwen, and he was suddenly
apprehensive because Richard had always described her as pleasant
and even-tempered. He didn’t know what she was saying but he heard
Guri’s name mentioned frequently…Was it possible Guri had been
killed or wounded by one of his bowmen and Olwen had come to
somehow get him out?

Just as he got up from the pallet upon which
he’d been sleeping, the door opened and his guard stuck his head
inside. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior
and when they had, they snapped onto Longsword and gave him a
considering perusal. Then his head disappeared, a few more words
were spoken outside and finally Olwen slipped through the opening
and into Longsword’s small prison. The guard did not shut the door;
he stood in the frame, blocking most of the burgeoning daylight,
facing them with his arms crossed over his chest as if warning
Longsword not to—not to what? Longsword had no idea. It wasn’t as
if he could push past Olwen and leap over the stockade wall. Not
with his horses still in Rhirid’s paddock.

The sounds of frantic action were louder now
that the door was open. Longsword watched as Olwen approached him
and saw even in the poor light that her face was anxious. “Olwen,
what’s happening out there?” he asked. “Have my men attacked? Has
Guri engaged them?”

She shook her head quickly. “No! Lord
William, there is big trouble! You must do something!” Her voice
rose and the guard in the doorway took a step forward. “I don’t
know what Lord Guri will do! I thought of you—”

“All right. Be calm, Olwen. Tell me what’s
happened.”

“Sir Roger has my children!” she cried. “He’s
threatening to kill them if you aren’t released to him!”

The words hit Longsword like a physical blow.
Haworth was at Llanlleyn? It was impossible—he was at Rhuddlan!
“Sir Roger? The earl’s man? Olwen, are you certain?”

“Yes, Lord William, I’m certain! I’ve seen
him twice before—the first time he took away little Bronwen and the
second time he took me away! Now he’s got my children—Richard’s
children! He says he will kill them!”

“And where are my men, Olwen? Did you see
them as well?”

She shook her head again. “All I saw was Sir
Roger and three of his men with their hands on my sons and Dylan’s
wife.”

“But are they there? Somewhere still on the
field? Olwen, it’s important.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know,
Lord William. They must be. Why would they leave without you?”

Longsword didn’t answer her. He thought
furiously. Haworth must have marched through the night; it was
possible with the bright moon. But what had he done when he’d run
into fitz Maurice? Surely if there had been fighting between the
two Norman armies, someone in the Welsh camp would have heard it
and then he would have heard about it. So, either fitz Maurice had
been persuaded to return to Rhuddlan with his men or he had joined
with Haworth, not knowing what had transpired at Rhuddlan. That
meant there had been no messenger. Why hadn’t Lene sent a message
to fitz Maurice?

But why would fitz Maurice leave him, even if
he’d believed whatever Haworth had told him? Could it be that
Haworth had made him a prisoner…or worse—killed him?

Olwen sniffled and the noise shook him from
his thoughts. He watched as she wiped her eyes. “Lord William, Sir
Roger said if you’re turned over to him, he will release his
hostages. He said if you aren’t given to him, he will k-kill
them.”

“Is that what Guri will do? Give me to
Haworth?”

“I don’t know! I’m afraid—” she broke off
abruptly and looked at the ground.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked softly.
“That he won’t?”

“Lord Guri has no love for me or my
children,” she said in a low voice. “Because they’re
half-Norman.”

“Who is this Guri, Olwen? Where is
Rhirid?”

She drew her breath in sharply. “Oh, Lord
William, you don’t know…Lord Rhirid is dead!”

Another blow. “Dead!”

“At the Christmas feast. I saw him. He was
drinking and laughing with his men one moment and the next, a queer
look spread across his face and he was very still…and then, he just
fell. His head just fell forward, onto the table, into his food.
Everyone rushed to help him but there was nothing to be done. He
was dead.” She bit her lip at the memory. “His healer told us it
was his head. That he’d never completely recovered from the blow
his horse had given him months before. Guri was his cousin. No one
challenged his claim to be chief in Rhirid’s place.”

This was unexpected. Not that Longsword
believed it would be any more difficult to deal with Guri instead
of Rhirid but now there was the added complication that Guri might
still be in the process of establishing his authority. Facing two
Norman armies and holding a Norman lord prisoner all at once would
be a fine test of his leadership but how would he react? Slowly or
impetuously? Neither boded well for Longsword.

“Olwen, Hawarden is no friend of Rhuddlan. If
Haworth gets his hands on me, he’ll have me killed.”

“Then you won’t go?” The question burst out
of her before she thought the better of it; he could see her
anguished embarrassment when she realized the implication of her
words.

“It’s not my decision,” he answered.

“But Lord Guri—”

“Guri isn’t going to permit Haworth to harm
your children just because he doesn’t like you or them, Olwen!” he
said impatiently. “He’ll make his decision based on what he
believes is best for Llanlleyn. Unfortunately, the way it stands
now, it will appear to him that holding onto me is his best plan.
He looks out the guard tower and sees two armies confronting him.
As long as he has me, however, those armies won’t attack.”

Olwen was pale. “So my children will
die!”

“Not necessarily…” Longsword glanced at the
guard in the doorway; the man was watching them intently but
couldn’t have understood a word they were saying. He turned back to
Olwen, staring her straight in the face. “If I’m not here, Guri has
no decision to make. If I can get to fitz Maurice and my men,
without Haworth knowing of it, we can attack the earl’s army before
anything happens to your sons. But I have to get out of here,
Olwen!”

“But it’s impossible, Lord William! There’s
the man at the door and beyond that, there are warriors everywhere!
And what if your men aren’t there?”

“You said yourself why would they leave
without me? They wouldn’t, Olwen! You just didn’t notice them
because you saw only your sons. I must leave here! It’s the only
way, Olwen, to save your children…”

He wished he could speak as persuasively as
Delamere when addressing women but he had never had the knack. It
was easier for him to deal with men—he had merely to command and it
was done without question. Women rarely responded to commands; they
had to be convinced or flattered or bribed. He didn’t know Olwen
very well; she hadn’t lived long at Rhuddlan before Delamere had
whisked her away to the manor he’d had built for her. Had he spoken
the words which would persuade her to help him escape? He looked at
her, trying not to appear anxious or tentative.

She stared back at him, unblinking. As he
watched, the frantic expression drained slowly away, her face
became calmer and her chin lifted resolutely. He had the feeling
she no longer saw him. Then her intelligent eyes focused on his and
when she spoke, her voice was quiet but firm.

“There is another way.”

Guri watched as the Normans collected their
hostages and prepared to ride back to their camps. Roger of Haworth
was the first to leave, wheeling his horse about and galloping away
as if he were incredibly impatient for this deal to be done so he
could be on his way. He had been polite but brief: the lives of the
hostages for Lord William. If the Welsh refused to accept this
exchange, the hostages would be killed and the forests around
Llanlleyn scoured for additional hostages until they were empty. He
had given no explanation for his army’s presence in the field and
seemed to have dismissed Guri’s demand to know why Rhuddlan had
come against Llanlleyn with a brusque motion of his head,
suggesting this reason was unimportant. The tone of his voice and
his translator’s arrogant words implied the Normans feared the
Welsh not at all and Haworth was being kind in asking for the
exchange instead of simply attacking the fortress right away.

When the last Norman had left the field, Guri
turned and descended the ladder. He sent an order for breakfast to
be made and served as soon as possible in the feasting hall. He
would think better if there was something in his stomach.

As he and his growing entourage walked to the
hall, Dylan came up on Guri’s right and begged a word in a tight,
low voice. He asked permission to leave the fortress and challenge
Roger of Haworth. He knew Haworth’s ability and believed he would
prevail. There was no other leader from Hawarden, he said; kill
Haworth and the threat disappeared.

“I’m not so certain
Hawarden
is
a
threat to us,” Guri answered. “It seems to me Sir Roger desperately
wants Lord William for some reason and we just happen to have him.
I don’t even think he would accept your challenge.”

“Perhaps I might at least try?” Dylan
persisted. “It’s my wife he’s threatening to kill!”

Privately, Guri wondered why Dylan cared so
much. He could only imagine that Goewyn’s sharp tongue was put to
more creative use when the two of them were alone.

“It won’t come to that, I promise you,” Guri
said gravely. Dylan did not look mollified but dropped the
argument. Guri relaxed a little; he hadn’t been chief for very long
and acceptance of his decisions was crucial, especially now. He
added, “Have someone find Olwen and tell her to come see me and
then go fetch the Norman.”

The situation Guri faced was the most serious
since he’d assumed leadership of Llanlleyn. He couldn’t imagine why
the Normans were attacking the fortress and Longsword wasn’t
talking. How had Roger of Haworth found his people, who were
supposed to have been in hiding somewhere in the hills? What did
Haworth want with Longsword and why were the lord’s own men
excluded from the negotiations? What answer was Guri going to give
Haworth when time ran out?

As they sat and ate, his warriors debated
just that. Words flew over Guri’s head; he pretended to be
listening but he’d already weighed both sides of the question. If
he gave up Longsword, he had no defense if the Normans turned on
Llanlleyn; if he didn’t give up Longsword, the Normans would
sacrifice one after another of his people. Either way, the future
didn’t look bright for Llanlleyn. The only slim ray of hope that
penetrated the dense stockade wall was what he had said to Dylan:
that Haworth seemed to want Longsword for a personal reason. But
what this was and what it meant to Llanlleyn, Guri had no idea.

There was a commotion at the entrance to the
house. He looked up from his meal and saw the Norman suddenly fly
through the open door and crash onto the packed earth, scattering
the feet of the men sitting nearby. Everyone shot up from his seat
in a flash. There was a shout, a warning that Dylan was
approaching, and murmured conjectures about what had just happened
turned loud and barely coherent. The Norman got to his feet, shook
his head as if to clear it of something, caught sight of Dylan in
the doorway and rushed him, tackling him around the waist and
knocking him to the ground. Several pairs of hands pulled at the
Norman, trying to get him off Dylan but Dylan shouted them off and
elbowed Longsword hard in the face. Longsword fell back and then
Dylan scrambled to his feet and, as Longsword was trying to stand,
punched him down again. Guri pushed his way to the fight.

“Enough, Dylan!” he shouted, planting himself
between the two men and facing the heaving warrior. “Enough! He’s
no good to Llanlleyn if you kill him!”

“I won’t kill him!” Dylan
retorted. “I just want to make him suffer a little! As my wife is
suffering! As
I
am
suffering! Because of
him
!”

“I swore to you Goewyn will be safe, Dylan,”
Guri said in a loud, firm voice. He was sticking his neck out in
speaking so confidently but felt he had no choice. In his opinion,
a competent leader had to take initiative, had to be decisive and
had to make promises which may have seemed impossible to others to
keep. He stared calmly into Dylan’s eyes until the latter nodded
slowly and backed away.