Illusions 32

How many young English noblewomen who have displeased the King could have been banished to a remote convent at the Welsh border? I don't believe this is a mere coincidence," Rhobert eventually finished his report. He waited, but Guy didn't say anything, his face frozen and his gaze petrified.

"What will you do?" Rhobert asked finally. „Lord Rhys may allow you to ride to Middletown, but you know that you cannot set foot on English soil."

Guy had clenched his fists and had become pale as death, his eyes hard and cold. "I don't want to see her!" he roared. "She may rot in the convent for all I care!" As suddenly as rage had overcome him, he calmed down. "We won't talk about her, Rhobert, I've put this whole thing behind me… And now if you will excuse me, I have to attend to my duties," he said stiffly and left the room without saying goodbye.

Perhaps, no, probably, he should have expected Guy's reaction. But put behind him? Certainly not! This was anything than finished. Rhobert had seen the barely concealed grief and knew that if he followed Guy now, he would find him at a passage of arms, trying to distract himself. Guy dealt easily with the men at the Welsh court and also seemed to laugh easily. Everything seemed to be in order, but it was only on the surface and if someone scratched this surface…

Guy didn't seem to doubt that the English noblewoman at the convent was indeed Marian of Knighton, but he would not do anything. What did it mean that she sold her valuable things, silk scarves, brooches, rings… The conclusion was clear; she was in need of money to leave the convent without the King's consent. Even if Guy thought better of his refusal to see Marian in a few weeks, it would be too late; she would have left Middletown by then.

If Guy doesn't act, I will have to. As soon as the idea had come, Rhobert banished it. It was Guy's decision whether he wanted to see this woman again or not.

The following night, Rhobert tossed and turned in his bed, not being able to sleep, but even when dawn came, he did not know what to do. His limbs were leaden when he got up and even the icy water a maid had brought him didn't refresh him. He dressed and was staring listlessly at the platter of fruit, bread and the bowl of porridge in front of him, when a knock on the door disturbed his thoughts and a servant entered and bowed. "Lord Rhys wants to see you immediately." he said politely.

It was not unusual that the Prince summoned him, but this kind of urgency was. When Rhobert entered the great hall, he saw at once that something important must have happened. If he was right, almost all the noblemen of the Prince's Court were gathered, and at the far corner of the room he saw Guy. The Prince was sitting on his throne, watching the assembly. Rhobert listened to the speculations around him, but nobody seemed to know what had actually happened. Eventually the murmur subsided when Lord Rhys rose from his throne and everyone looked expectantly at their ruler.

"We've always been a nation of warriors, but often we were too weak to fend off the English - they are too numerous. But…" he paused and smiled. "…maybe this can change now that they are without a leader." Lord Rhys's voice boomed through the hall. "I have got a message that the English King will leave his country once again, not for a crusade this time but for warfare in France. The huge ransom the English have paid for the release of their King has weakened them. It remains to be seen whether Prince John is able to gather his followers once more. This is our chance to fortify our borders and to gain back what we have lost. Our first step will be to reconnoitre their weak points. We will gather troops during the next few days. There will be no attacks on English villages, no looting and no unnecessary cruelty. We will take back what we lost but nothing more." His eyes were glittering, and he was standing proud and tall in front of the men he had summoned. ". We. will. free. our. country!"

After only a few moments of silence the men began to shout with glee until the hall reverberated of the deafening cheers. Rhobert remained silent. He loved Wales and he had always hated that his country had to submit to the English, but he also knew what war meant. Even if the king had forbidden looting, war meant death, injuries and pain.

"We will have to prepare carefully," the Prince continued. "We will only be victorious if the element of surprise is on our side. Rumours about an impending attack will cost the victory. No one, I repeat, no one is allowed to talk about the things you have heard. Those who do are traitors and will be hanged as such."

Together with the other men Rhobert headed towards the exit when Lord Rhys called him back. The Prince beckoned him to sit at his side, causing several men to glance at Rhobert in astonishment. The former abbot was a good man but not a person whose opinions would matter in case of a war.

When the door had finally closed, the Prince got right to the point. "I've already told you that I need men like you. The day has come that you will act as my emissary. I know, I know, you won't fight… Despite your youth you are a cautious man. I will free our country from the English, but I also know that it might become a conflagration. Some of my men have lost wives and children in our fight against the English and yearn for vengeance. I won't be able to keep some of the soldiers from disobeying my orders in this matter and this is where you are needed. You will visit the monasteries at the border and tell the abbots about the impending fights.. As a former monk, you will be able to make them understand what I'm asking of them, protecting the monasteries, but also distributing food to those who will suffer and tending the wounded. I won't notify Bishop Cardarn; the only one he cares about is himself. You will know who you can trust; I don't want our plans to come to light before we are prepared for war."

Rhobert's gloomy mien had brightened. With God's help he would be able to save people. He knew that the Prince's plan was proof of cleverness rather than of lenience. If they succeeded in avoiding a big stir, the English might not send a great many soldiers to save some peasant huts or a dilapidated castle. As long as the English villages at the border and the farmland were spared, some of the English might not even care if they belonged to England or to Wales and they would certainly not be interested in the fate of some nobleman and his castle. Had the English King ever cared about them?

Rhobert was well aware that he had a good reputation among the monks and abbots who knew him. They would listen to him in a way they would not listen to a soldier. There were only a few men he didn't consider trustworthy. It would be a long journey; in his mind he saw the map and the roads he had to take, the different locations. He started…maybe…

"My lord," he said softly. "There is something I beg of you."

Rhobert had told her that the lessons were cancelled for now and Gwyneth saw the regret in his green eyes. He would undertake a journey on behalf of the Prince; he had not told her where this journey would lead him, only that he would be away for quite a while.

It was odd; they hadn't even talked much apart from the lessons, but she felt as if she had known him forever. He didn't look at her condescendingly or pitifully – oh, she knew about the gossip – and sometimes she thought she had seen something quiet different in his eyes, when he thought himself unwatched…warmth, desire and more. Meanwhile she knew why he had been released him from his vows; people still talked about the coward Bishop, who had wanted to wash his hands from the young abbot. Rhobert had supported the Englishman's cause who had been incarcerated as a spy. This required courage; Gwyneth knew that her father appeared calm at the outside, but that he didn't take contradiction well and was nearly imperturbable in his decisions. Until today, she didn't know how her mother had succeeded in eliciting the promise from him not to marry Gwyneth against her will. She smiled; well, she did know….

Sometimes Gwyneth wondered what to think of Rhobert's friend Guy. She was good-looking – that she had to admit – but he exuded a … a darkness that made her uneasy. He had talked to her a few times and she had felt his inquiring gaze.

Rhboert on the other hand evoked feelings in her she had never known before. He was tall, rather huge but not hulking or threatening. Although her head merely reached his shoulder, she never felt ill at ease in his presence. His hands were big but slim and well-shaped.

And now he had said farewell and she did not know when he would return. She looked after him and blinked and felt her eyes moisten. Feeling his arms around her and his lips on hers…. Some years ago, some knights had courted her, but she was able to read behind the men's polite words. Her father would provide her with a large dowry and they would accept her flaws in order to gain a Prince's daughter and the riches which came with this woman. How often had she lain in her bed and had looked at her scars, scars that would never disappear. Her future husband would put out the lights or close his eyes to avoid the sight. Never in her life would she endure revulsion or pity, she had sworn to herself.

Rhobert was different; that she felt and knew. But now weeks, perhaps months would pass until she would see him again and she had not even told him what she felt for him. "Rhobert! Wait!" she shouted out of the window, across the Court; he turned around and looked up. Laughter spread on his face and he knew…. With bounding strides he hurried back.

Gwyneth had halted at the gallery and waited for him. She heard his heavy footfall and then saw him turning the corner. He seemed to hesitate for a fracture of a second, but then he approached her decisively. He stopped only at arm's length and for a moment words failed him. He had hoped against reason that she reciprocated his feelings. Heavens, sometimes he was left in disbelief at what he felt. He was a grown man and love had struck him like lightning.

Gwyneth swallowed. "Rhobert, I don't want you to go and not to know…" She hesitated and licked her lips. "I want…." You remained unspoken, but he heard it nonetheless.

Rhobert looked in her warm brown eyes; he had not misinterpreted what he thought he had seen in them although he still did not understand what she saw in him. Uncertainty flickered in his eyes. "Are you sure, Gwyneth?" he heard himself ask in a voice he didn't recognise himself. "Could you be proud of a husband who is neither a warrior nor a wealthy man?"

"Yes, I could," Gwyneth replied softly. "I already am and I know that you have gained my father's respect."

Rhobert took her hand and stroked it tenderly. "I have to leave tomorrow. When I'm back, will you marry me?"

.

Gwyneth nodded happily. „I will talk to my father tonight. When you are leaving, I want to bid you farewell as your fiancée.