wondered where she would go now and just what she meant when she said that she would have justice of his cousin. Strangely, he believed her when she said she meant Katherine and her unborn child no harm. But what was to happen to Rhonwyn uerch Llywelyn?
She departed Haven Castle, her head high, but her sight was blurred by the tears that filled her eyes. He had not really loved her. The shock of that knowledge burned into her heart and soul. How could she have been so damned naive? She would have been better off with the caliph, but that door was tightly closed to her now. She could not go back to Cinnebar no more than she could come back to Haven.
'Where are we going?' she finally asked her companions.
'To your brother, lady. Then we will decide upon how to kill Edward de Beaulieu,' Oth said grimly.
'You cannot kill him,' she said quietly.
'Surely you do not still love him?' Oth said angrily.
'Nay, I do not love him, but you cannot kill him. They would blame me. I have had enough shocks today to last my lifetime, Oth. I mean to go to King Henry to complain of Edward's treatment of me. Certainly the king will compensate me for what has happened. Then, too, I must be declared alive once more in the courts.'
Glynn, as she had suspected, was outraged by what had happened at Haven. He was ready to storm the castle himself and slay Edward de Beaulieu, but Rhonwyn dissuaded him as she had Oth and Dewi.
'He must be made to pay somehow,' Glynn said irately.
'Yes, but how?' Rhonwyn asked.
'I am taking you to Mercy Abbey,' Glynn said suddenly.
'I am not of a mind to join a religious order,' his sister replied. 'Do you assume my life is over because my husband has disowned me, little brother? It is not, I assure you!'
'I'm taking you to Mercy because our aunt will certainly know how you may proceed. Our upbringing at Cythraul did not prepare us for such deceit, sister. You surely have an honest grievance against Edward de Beaulieu and must be compensated by him. I am a poet and a dreamer. I do not know how to advance your cause, but she will.'
'How can you be certain of that? You never met her,' Rhonwyn said to him.
'The abbess Gwynllian is well known in religious circles for her intellect and cleverness, sister. Her fame extends even as far as Shrewsbury. It will take us several days to reach her house, so we must begin now, Rhonwyn. Where else can you go to lick your wounds in safety and consider what you are to do next? Certainly not to our tad.'
'Let us ride,' his sister replied tersely.
They rode hard, resting the horses between dusk and dawn, eating oatcakes and wild berries, drinking from the streams of water that dotted the countryside. They came to Mercy Abbey in late afternoon. The cluster of stone buildings did not, this time, seem quite so forbidding as they had when she first saw it. Again the church bell was pealing for the office of None. Entering through the abbey gates, they waited for their aunt to emerge from the church.
Gwynllian had never met Glynn, but she recognized him immediately. Seeing Rhonwyn by his side, she said, 'Praise God, you're alive! What has happened? Why are you here unannounced?' Her eyes mirrored her deep concern. 'Come into the chapter house, and we will talk.' Her glance flicked to Oth and Dewi. 'You know where to put the horses,' she told them. 'Then go to the kitchens, and they will feed you. Come,' she said, turning back to her niece and her nephew. She led them into her privy chamber and poured them each a small cup of wine. She motioned them to seats as she took her own. 'Now,' she said, 'why have you come to me? Does your father know you are here and alive? And will it cause an incident with the English?' she demanded of them.
'It is a long story,' Rhonwyn began. Then she told her aunt of what had happened in the several years since they had last seen one another. 'I did not know where else to go,' she finished. 'I am too fine a lady now to live at Cythraul, aunt.'
'Aye, you are,' the abbess agreed.
'What am I to do?' Rhonwyn said. 'Edward de Beaulieu has treated our family with great disdain. Surely he can be made to pay for that insult, but I have no idea where to begin.'
'Do you want him dead?' her aunt queried.
Rhownyn shook her head. 'That would be too easy,' she replied. 'The lady Katherine I hold blameless in the matter. She is meek and was subject to her brother's will.'
'Do you want
Rhonwyn actually laughed aloud. 'Nay. I do not like Rafe de Beaulieu particularly, for he is arrogant and obviously has a lofty opinion of himself. However, he loves his sister and did what he believed was best for her even as my own brother, Glynn, did when he sought me out in Cinnebar.'
'Restoring you to life legally will not be difficult,' the abbess said thoughtfully. 'Your existence cannot be denied. It is plain fact.' Her long elegant fingers drummed lightly upon the long table before her. 'As to the rest I must speak to the bishop at Hereford. Edward de Beaulieu discarded you without any real proof of your demise and quite hastily contracted another marriage without a decent period of mourning. But your induction into an infidel's harem as his second wife will surely stand against you, Rhonwyn. You were a Christian knight's wife, and yet you yielded to the lustful blandishments of another man. There are many who will think you should have died rather than succumb.'
'Then they are ignorant of the harem,' Rhonwyn replied spiritedly. 'I had not even a knife to cut my food. I was constantly watched. There was absolutely no way I might have ended my life even if I had wanted to do so. But all I wanted was to escape and return to my husband, not knowing that he had already betrayed me!'
'That attitude will assuredly gain you a certain amount of sympathy,' the abbess noted, 'but it will not completely exonerate you.'
'I was faithful in my heart to Edward de Beaulieu. He was not so faithful to me,' Rhonwyn replied stonily.
Her aunt smiled. 'Stoke the fires of your outrage, my child, and we shall gain some justice for you. Are you sure you wish to pursue this path?'
'I must, else my honor and the honor of our family be compromised,' she said, 'ap Gruffydd is a proud man, and this reflects upon him badly unless we can obtain some compensation for the slight upon our escutcheon, aunt.'
'I am forced to agree with you, my child,' the abbess said. She turned to Glynn. 'Have you nothing to say in this matter, ap Gruf-fydd's son? By the rood, how much you look like your father in his youth!'
'At first,' Glynn said, 'I thought to slay de Beaulieu, but my sister dissuaded me. She does not wish me to have a stain such as that upon my conscience, especially as I intend to return to the abbey at Shrewsbury and eventually take holy orders.'
'So you would become a monk, Glynn ap Llywelyn?' the abbess said quietly. How interesting that her brother's son leaned toward the church and not toward a kingdom of his own.
'I have seen the world, aunt, and while I find it interesting, I am not meant for such a life. Soon my music and my poetry shall be in praise of God alone. The peace of the contemplative life is what I seek. I prefer its discipline and order to the hurly-burly of the world at large.'
'Does your lather know of your decision, nephew?' Her fine brown eyes scanned his face.
'He will, although I know he considered this would be my path long ago when he came to fetch Rhonwyn. Tomorrow I will send Oth and Dewi to find him so he may be made aware of what has happened to my poor sister.'
Rhonwyn hit him a blow upon the arm that staggered Glynn.
'Ouch!' he yelped.
'I am not to be pitied, brat!' she snapped at him. 'It is my honor that has been besmirched. But make no mistake, Glynn, I need no man to make my life complete. I never did and I certainly don't need your pity!'
'There are but two paths for a respectable woman,' Glynn said. 'Either she enters into marriage or she enters a convent.'
'I am no longer respectable, it would seem,' Rhonwyn mocked him, laughing. 'Therefore I may do what I please and plot my own course through life, brother. I am considering becoming a merchant and using the gold Baba Haroun so generously sewed into my cloak to set up a shop in Shrewsbury. I shall import silks and spices from the east and grow richer with each passing year. I shall take young men for lovers, and when I send them away
