A Moment in Time

wet-nurse my daughter, there will be someone there who can. They will be safe at Gwernach. I, however, am coming with you. Can we count on Rhys of St. Bride's to aid us?'

'Rhys would, of course, aid us if I asked,' Madoc responded, 'but I will not. Cai cannot be taken by force of arms, especially where Arvel's life is concerned. We will have to regain our son through guile and great cleverness.'

'You will have to kill Brys this time,' Wynne said.

'You sound like my sister,' Madoc replied.

'You cannot march yourself into Cai demanding your child, Madoc, and expect that Brys will acquiesce without a struggle.' Wynne's look was a serious one. 'Oh, Madoc, my love! You have given your brother every chance, but he cannot help himself. The destruction of your person and everything connected with you seems to be his ultimate goal; but I am convinced that even if he attained that goal, he would yet be dissatisfied. His hatred for you is a deep sickness of the soul that does not stem from the here and now. You know that as well as I do. We cannot spend the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders wondering what evil Brys is planning for us next time! Kill him! Put an end to it! Do not allow him to separate us as he did once before.'

Madoc sighed deeply. 'And if I kill him, will I not be in his debt? Will that hatred he harbors finally die, or will it be reborn anew in another time and place for me, for us to contend with, Wynne?'

She shook her head. 'I do not know the answers to your questions, Madoc. I simply know that if we are to live out our lives in peace this time, Brys must be dealt with in a way that will leave him unable to hurt us anymore.'

'He is my brother,' the prince said helplessly.

'He uses that very tie of blood against you, Madoc!' she said impatiently. 'He has cost us three years of our lives. He cruelly parted us in an effort to destroy you, forcing me into bondage, though God knows I was fortunate in that bondage. He has stolen our child. And for what purpose, Madoc? Why does he want our son? What wickedness does he now plan? This is the man of whom you would be compassionate? Your brother does not know the meaning of the word compassion. If you allow him to live on, the further misfortunes that Brys brings down upon us all will be your fault, my lord, for it will be you who will have let him wreak some new havoc.'

'I know that the words you utter are right and true, dearling,' the prince answered Wynne, 'but do not fear. Though it will be hard to do, I will see that Brys never again hurts anyone.' He made a small attempt at humor. 'I think I should rather slay Brys myself than have to listen to you and Nesta scold me. My sister has never really forgiven me for not protecting you more thoroughly, Wynne.'

Wynne smiled. 'How is Nesta?' she asked him. 'I thought of her often, particularly in the early days of my captivity, for she was near to term with her child. Was it a son or a daughter?'

'Nesta has two sons,' Madoc told her. 'The eldest is Daffyd, and the younger, Trystan.'

'How I long to see her!' Wynne said, and then she frowned. 'We cannot allow Nesta and Rhys to know we have returned until Arvel is safe,' she told him. 'Tell me of my grandmother, my sisters and Dewi.'

'Your grandmother is well, though she has mourned you deeply, even knowing you were not dead. Dewi is almost a man now, and Mair is growing into a beauty. She is the only one of your sisters who will rival you.'

'And Caitlin and Dilys?'

Madoc laughed. 'They thrive, although the elder will not speak to the younger anymore.'

'Why on earth not?' Wynne looked puzzled. 'They were always friends, if one could call their odd relationship friendly.'

'True, dearling, but remember, 'twas always Caitlin, the elder, who led the way. Now, however, the tide has turned in Dilys's favor. In the four years she has been wed, she has produced four children. Three boys and a girl. The girl is one-half of a set of twins. Caitlin, on the other hand, has had but one son, upon whom she dotes, and has miscarried twice of children too small to even sex. Although her husband treats her as if she were a queen, and she rules the roost at Coed without interference, she is discontent and furious that her younger sister has outstripped her.'

'Does Arthwr complain of a lack of children?' Wynne asked him.

Madoc chuckled. 'He does not. He would not dare.'

Wynne laughed. She had not thought of Caitlin in a long time, but now her memories of her sister came flooding back. No, her brother-in-law would not complain. He would have learned by now Caitlin's long memory for a slight, and her uncanny ability to wreak revenge upon those who displeased her. 'How unfortunate,' she said, her face now smooth and serious, 'that I shall not be able to invite my sisters for a reunion at Gwernach,' and then she was overcome by a fit of giggles.

They reached Gwernach unannounced late on a grey afternoon.

Clasping her eldest grandchild to her bosom, Enid could only say, 'I knew he would bring you home safe, my child!' Her eyes brimmed over with happy tears that ran down her worn face.

Wynne hugged her grandmother back. She was astounded by the change in Enid. Her grandmother had suddenly become an old woman who moved far more slowly than Wynne could remember. Her lovely visage was marred by lines. 'I have brought you a great-grandchild, Grandmother,' she said, and drew her daughter forward. 'This is my daughter, Averel Aethelhardsdatter.'

Enid masked her surprise and, bending, smiled into the little girl's face. 'I like your name, Averel,' she said. Then she lifted Averel up into her arms, kissing her cheek as she did so.

Averel regarded Enid with large eyes, debating whether she was ready to accept another new person into her life. So much had changed for her in the last few weeks. She liked the giant with the burning head who let her ride upon the wagon's bench and hold the horse's reins. Willa liked him too. She was not certain, however, of the dark man who always seemed to be watching her mother and paid little heed to her.

Averel decided quickly. Putting her arms about Enid 's neck, she kissed her great-grandmother wetly. 'Gama,' she said, sounding mightily pleased. The adults around her laughed.

'She is a dear child,' Enid said delighted, 'but she is not in the least like you, Wynne.'

'She looks like her father,' Wynne replied. 'His name was Eadwine Aethelhard, and he was the thegn of Aelfdene Manor, near the Mercian town of Worcester. He considered me his wife, and I was treated as such by all there.'

'Wynne!' A youthful but masculine voice spoke her name.

Wynne turned and saw a tall, black-haired young man. For a moment she could not believe her eyes. 'Dewi?' she said. 'Ohhhh! You have become a man! Almost,' she amended, and hugged him.

'I am betrothed,' he said loftily, 'to Gwenhwyvar of Clydach. We will be wed in two years' time. I made the match myself.'

'You did well,' Wynne told him, remembering the family. 'They have a strong strain of milk cows. Your Gwenhwyvar will be bringing cattle as part of her dowry, I trust.'

'Aye,' he said with a grin. ' 'Twas her greatest attraction for me.'

'Villain!' his grandmother said, half laughing. 'Do not tell me her soft brown eyes did not attract you. She is a lovely child with yellow hair. Her grandmother, on her father's side, was Saxon, I am told.' Then Enid smacked him lightly. 'Have you no word of welcome for your sister who has returned after three years of captivity among the Mercians? Where are your manners, Dewi?' She sighed and explained to Madoc, 'They are all alike. Gwernach first before all else.'

'I'm glad you're home safe, Wynne,' Dewi said, and then he replied to his grandmother, 'If I did not put Gwernach first as Wynne taught me, where would we all be?' He wore a slightly outraged look upon his handsome young face.

'He's right,' Wynne agreed. 'Dewi, I am so proud of you!'

'Who is the child?' her brother asked, his gaze moving to Wynne's daughter.

'Your niece, Averel,' came the answer.

'She's a Saxon whelp,' he replied, and Wynne explained once more Averel's parentage. Dewi took the little girl from Enid and smiled at her. 'Hello, bunny,' he said softly, and stroked her hair. 'She's like a little brown bunny,' he chuckled, 'with that soft hair and those suspicious eyes.'

Mair came into the hall, and again Wynne was astounded. Her littlest sister had grown taller, and had an