Upheaval and Change - Tales 4

Iorwerth entered his eldest daughter is room with and knocking of, something which was very rare for him, normally he was very good in respecting the privacy of his children.

"Bronwen" he roared. "I have to talk to you. Have you been leading Earl Sanglet on?"

Bronwen looked up at her father startled. "Leading him on?" She had no idea what he was upset about. "He approached me today to ask permission to pay me court?"

"He just came in and asked for your hand in marriage." He looked at his beautiful daughter and his face softened a bit. What if she really loved the man, Would he stop her? No, sanglet was an earl and a good catch, if she loved him it was alright. "So you want to marry him?"

"Papa, I don't know him. Today was the first time other then a passing word he has even spoken to me. I mean, he is charming and handsome but.." Bronwen flushed with embarrassment.

"But what" Iorwerth was calming down a little bit. "So you hardly know him, I will not have you marry a man you do not know." He knew that his eldest daughter was still the child when it came to emotions. She was still blinded by glamor and glitter. "I absolutely forbid it!"

Bronwen's eyes flashed. "Forbid it? What if I decide I like him after he has had time to pay me court?" Sometimes she swore her father thought she was still in the nursery.

"We`ll see then." he grumbled, not used to her being angry with him. "but for now I forbid it, absolutely, and that is final young lady."

"Father, why must you do things to such extremes. Would it not be more seemly to just tell the Earl that you would like time to see if we suit before you agree. Wouldn't you find it insulting to have a Lord forbid you without a fair look or hearing?" It wasn't that she wanted to marry the Earl, though he was a dashing man and very capable. Her thoughts made her blush and she continued quickly. "I DO find the man very intriguing." She admitted.

Her father grumbled some more. "You are a child, Daughter, too young to judge a man's character yourself. It is my task as your father to do that. I will allow you to see him, but nothing more for now."

Bronwen stared at him in disbelief. "I am older then every other unmarried woman in court. I am not a child."

"Yes you are a child." Iorwerth was getting angry to now. "You proved that when you came after us with your little sister." He regretted it the instant it was out of his mouth, because he knew the girl felt badly about it. "You will learn." He said a little bit more kindly.

Branwen paled at his words. She had still not seen her sister though she had heard was in the castle. She had been unable to face her and had avoided doing so. Her eyes dropped to the ground. "As you wish my lord." She answered in a barest whisper.

"Branwen! Please wait! I did not mean it that way. I love you, I am not angry, but you are a child, my dear." He kissed her on the top of her head gently.

"Father, I am not wishing to rush out and leave. But I am NOT a child. Look around the court. I made a mistake. That does not make me or even Brendan children. If you do not realize that, you will lose the children you love. You have only to watch Brendan to see it. He is soon to follow in Hawk's footsteps because he feels protected and coddled like a child." Branwen looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

"Hawk did not leave because of that, and you know that!" Iorwerth was getting angry. "Do not speak in such a tone to me, young lady. Your brother left because your mother and me could not give him the support he needed, we are not going to make that mistake again!" His anger was booming out now.

She stood quietly in the center of the room. Her father was a man of deep passions even if he tried to hide them. She wanted to say so much, but had been taught to give respect even when she felt a difference of opinion. She had not used a harsh tone, so knew her words must have struck a cord within him. "Yes Father!" She finally answered. She rarely called him father and they both knew it. She usually used words such as Da or Papa.

Iorwerth winced and her use of father, he knew he had hurt her deeply, but he did not know how to reach her again. That was women's business. "You go now. I suggest you talk to your mother about this, she is better at explaining things."

"It is late father, with your permission, I will speak to her tomorrow." She gave him a small curtsey. She couldn't leave, he was in her rooms.

Iorwerth was at a loss. He was clearly no longer wanted here. "You do that, young lady." He turned and strode from his daughter's room.

Rowena was in the dark and the woods loomed around her. A shadow jumped out in front of her horse. Her horse reared up and Rowena couldn't hang onto the saddle. She screamed as large hands reached for her. Large hands that were calling her name. "Mum, I can't find you." She screamed out and sat up into warm arms. Rowena was sobbing. "I can't find you."

"Hush, my little baby." Iorwerth held her in his arms. "Mommy is asleep, she still very weak. But daddy is here, daddy is not going to let anybody hurt you, my Little Princess."

"I can't get rid of the hands, Da." She sobbed against him. "It is dark and scary and the horse reared up and then there were hands."

"You're safe now." He said gently. "Daddy is not going to let anybody hurt you again, my Princess . "He held her close and rocked her. "It is over and is not going to happen again."

She sobbed against him. Her young body trembled in fear. After awhile, she fell back asleep. Her little face soft and peaceful. She had not further dreams and awoke in the morning rather late. Her father had already risen and she smiled. She had remembered him last night and her mum too. She didn't remember everything about them, but she knew them. "Mum, wake up." She whispered, showering her mother with hugs and kisses.

Isa opened her eyes and smile. " Good morning, my little one. You are in a good mood, sleep well?"

Iorwerth watched a little apprehensive if she would still recognize him as well.

"No, I had terrible dreams, but Da scared them away." She confided. "I am glad." Her mother said, feeling so very happy. "Are all your memories back, sweetheart?"

Iorwerth stood watching, tears in his eyes.

Rowena looked up at her in confusion. "What?"

"you remember us now?" Her mother asked anxiously. Rowena thought very hard for a few moments. Finally, she shook her head no. "I just remember you holding me when I fell out of the tree? And Da, I remember my pony and teaching me to ride?"

"So you know we are your parents. You're happy about being back now?" Isa took her youngest in her arms

Rowena frowned. "How come I remember to papas?"

Iorwerth leaned closer. "The man who rescued you, did not know you already had parents. He adopted you, and he was very kind to you. That is why we would like to thank him, and ask him to come to court, so you can have both of us near."

"I think I would like that. He works very hard on his estate," she frowned. "I don't think he will want to leave. It took us a forever to get here from his home."

"Do you remember where he lived?" Iorwerth asked gently." We do At least owe it to him to thank him, and at least ask him if you want to come here."

"I know the lands are in Dan-yr-coed. But it is a big place, " Rowena sighed.

"Can you remember more, what it looked like, names of people?" he asked anxiously.

"Papa's name is Gretsworth. His estate is called Bairynloft." Her eyes filled with tears as the searing pain shot across her eyes. "I can't remember more." She whispered quietly.

"That is fine, you did very well." Isa said, rocking the little girl close. "Rest now, honey."

Rowena went to find her friend. She hadn't come to the dinner and she hadn't been around. She found her in her rooms, she did not look well."Are you okay?" She asked with concern, moving to her slowly.

"Yes, sweet, I'm fine," said Catrin, forcing a smile to her face. Sheknew she was in a world of trouble with the Captain of the Guard, if she didn't give them Allyn's name. She had no idea that Rowena had already revealed it.

"You didn't come to dinner last night?" She asked more then stated.

"I was tired," Catrin lied. "I'm not quite as young as you are." The fact was that she felt very awkward about being around Rowena's family, considering the circumstances, and she didn't want to hurt Isa. Plus, avoiding the dinner also avoided any questions about Allyn.

"You don't have to worry. Da sent men to thank Papa. It will be okay." She said reassuringly.

"What? How?" said Catrin, aghast. They had found out Allyn's identity? "Rowena, did you tell them who 'Papa' was?"

Rowena nodded. "Yes, they all kept asking. Then they said Papa was afraid and I know that is not true."

Catrin quailed, though she tried hard not to show that to Rowena. "I see," she said. Allyn was dead, and Catrin herself would soon be arrested for her part in protecting Allyn's identity.

"Why are you worried. Papa said they would ask. He told me it would be okay?" She was confused and concerned she had done something wrong.

"I'm not worried, sweet," Catrin said, as she sat down on her bed; her legs would not support her any longer.

Rowena scrambled up on the bed. "All the knights are leaving. They are going to war. The kitchen boy said that only a few would be left here at the castle."

"War?" For a moment, all thought of Allyn, and her coming troubles left her. "We're going to war?"

"Yes, all the men spend time either preparing supplies or fighting. It is fun to watch." Rowena lowered her voice. "Some fight with no shirt." She giggled.

Catrin thought of her brother Tudor. Would he go? He was a knight of Abertawe, though a minor one. And Gareth? That thought didn't pain her in the least, though her lack of concern made her feel ashamed. But ...."Who are we going to war with? Do you know? Never mind, sweet. Why don't you and I take a walk? Let's go see your puppy."

"Ohhh can we. I haven't picked which one yet. You can help me." Rowena grabbed her hand and began to tug on it fiercely.

Catrin followed the little girl out of the room. But her mind was hundreds of miles away. Before Gareth had left, he had said something about going to Nethbo. "War is always a profitable business," he had said, somewhat cryptically. When Catrin had asked him what he meant, he had broken her nose, and told her he would kill her if she repeated anything she'd heard. What if he had gone to Nethbo to foment war? He had done it before, on a smaller scale, stirring up blood feuds among neighboring Houses.

Catrin wanted to see the King, or at least the Regent....Hawk? Was that his name? Somebody had to be told.

The stable was dimly lit, a single pair of lanterns providing the entire building with light. One hung above the stall of a newly returned horse; his steed pranced impatiently as it waited for the man to unsaddle him. A thin coat of sweat covered the stallion's hide; the ride had been long and arduous, and the stallion wanted nothing more than to bury his head in his feedbag and set itself to sleep.

The horse's stomps and whickers were the only sounds in the large stable; dim starlight filtered in from the doorway, but not enough to see by. The night had been darkening ominously, warning the lone rider that a storm was oncoming.

A tiny light caught the rider's attention; a small candle flickering by the doorway. As he watched, a figure, cloaked against the growing winds, moved closer, appearing seemingly out of the shadows yet still leaning casually against the wall. Once it spoke, however, he was certain who it was.

"Did you have a nice ride?"

Brendan was tired and very cold and not in the mood for company, when he had heard that nobody had invited him for the Council of Knights something broke in him and he just took of. He had felt sorry for himself all day and after their last conversation, he was not in the mood to see Deirdre.

"Very much, thank you, now I would like to go to bed."

"No wonder," she scoffed. "You nearly ran that poor horse to death." She paused, choosing her next words carefully. "Is that your answer to everything? Run away?"

"I am not the one that ran away from home when his wife died. That is my elder brother, and still he is the hero. I have always stayed home to help my parents. Maybe it is time I act more like my brother, maybe they will appreciate me more than."

Deirdre was silent for a moment. She hadn't been aware of the regent's history. For all her talk, she was still new in the palace. "You try so hard to be as good as him, Brendan. You are better than him. You haven't run away. You are stronger." She let out a frustrated breath. "Why won't you just understand that?"

"I understand it, nobody else does. So maybe I should go somewhere where nobody knows my family." He mused.

Deirdre smiled, unable to hold in the good news any longer. "That's odd," she muttered to herself, but obviously loud enough for him to hear. "I didn't think they put weak knights at the front of battle. But perhaps I misunderstood when I heard the entire table of High Knights argue in unison that you would be more of an asset to the battle than here at home." She spoke deliberately, as if in deep thought, but she couldn't mask the undertone of excitement at being the one to be able to deliver the good news.

Brendan looked at her, not really understanding. "They,... They stuck up for me? My brother? Our father? How did they decide?" His face was so eager.

"I wish you had been there, Brendan. At the merest mention of you being left here to find the man who rescued your sister, all the High Knights erupted into an argument; and I doubt they would have argued with the regent if they didn't feel strongly about it. Your brother hasn't really been here long enough to realize what an asset you have been to the army - it wasn't his fault for not knowing how much you have grown since last he was here." She stopped herself, hoping she hadn't said too much; she didn't want to discourage him, not now when he looked as if he was finally getting some encouragement.

"And my brother? Was it hard to convince him?" Brendan asked eagerly. He knew his father was basically a lost cause, Iorwerth would never respect him. Maybe with Hawk there was some hope after all.

Deirdre shook her head, tiny ringlets of curls bouncing about her face. She could hear the soft pattering of light rain beginning outside the stable. "Not at all. He even smiled, as if he were glad so many had respect for his little brother." She moved closer, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You see, you underestimate your family, Brendan. Just give them another chance. They've given you one."

Brendan smiled, it was the first real smile she had ever seen on him. "It is amazing, I am so happy. Thank you, my lady. You are a formidable friend to have." He kissed her hand as a true gentleman.

Deirdre blushed, thankful for the darkness that hid her steadily reddening cheeks. "It is my pleasure, Brendan. Truly," she added seriously. Giving Brendan even the smallest measure of confidence had been such a struggle, it brought a triumphant smile to her face when she had finally succeeded. "Now, shall we return to the castle before the rain truly begins to fall?" she asked, motioning towards the doorway and the falling rain.

"I think that is a very good idea, I might even go and talk to my brother." He said with a smile before he led an astounded captain inside.

Geoffrey simply walked forward. There was a slight limp in his canter caused by a blister he had acquired on his right heel. His boots were now thoroughly muddied, and he looked as though he were a crazy usurper from beyond the sea. His hair was unkempt, blown hither and thither by the crisp whisps of wind.

The castle of Abertawe loomed overhead, and as he approached the village he noticed a few guards scattered about the gates, but they did not seem too interested in causing any trouble for him. The roads were dusty and dry, and the smells of the marketplace seemed to hang like a canopy over the court.

A little girl of maybe seven winters, well dressed and in curls watched him as he entered the village. She had found a small hole in a garden wall, one she had remembered between headaches. She played in the dirt with the village children. She looked up as a man walked by. He looked tired. She bounced up and looked at him with her head cocked.

"Greetings sir, do you need the well?" He looked thirsty.

"Ah, thank ye," he nodded. "That would fit me very nicely."

She showed him to a small well partially encircled by giant pieces of pottery. She twisted the handle, raising the bucket inside to a level where Geoffrey could fill his skin bottle that hung from his belt, "Thank ye, m'dear. You are a saint, to be sure."

"I am not a saint, I am Rowena. You speak strangely, you are not from here?" she said with a child's frank honesty.

"You speak the truth, child - Rowena," Geoffrey smiled. "I am from aways west of here. I am from Amwythig, actually." Geoffrey enjoyed a long drink from is skin canteen, though he noticed there were a few cracks from which water could be seen dripping from time to time. Before leaving the well, he was sure to fill it again from the small, creaking bucket.

The sun was sinking now, and it was near twilight. The thriving grass amongst the lawns gleamed with the last rays of sunshine, giving the city an almost whimsical look.

"I can take you to the inn. If you seek shelter. I must get back to the castle before my nanny tells someone that I am gone." She confided sweetly.

"Oh, dear me," Geoffrey chortled, "You live in the palace, did you say? A lady of royal blood you would be then. I am honored to meet thee."

"I am a princess," She stated proudly.

"Well, then," started Friar de Lieen, "Perhaps you can help me, m'dear- er- m'lady. Would you know one King Gwenwynwyn ap Greidawl?"

"He is my uncle. He left. My brother is King now," She said with a mixture of sadness and pride.

"Interesting," pondered Geoffrey, "M'lady, I do not wish to keep you waiting. You may as well show me to this inn. And thank ye kindly for it."

Rowena smiled warmly. She didn't remember where the inn was persay, but she had seen it on her way here from the hole in the wall. She chatted at him gaily all the way to the inn. Once there, she bid him good day and turned to find her way back before she was missed.

As she turned to walk away, Geoffrey noticed how strange it was for him to be talking with a girl of such a young age. 'And she,' he almost chuckled to himself, 'is a princess.' He now chuckled at the idea. And where, perhaps, she got such an idea.