A Moment in Time

when his enemy was not. Rhys relied upon his own skill to overcome Brys. He had to admit to himself that Brys was a skilled swordsman, for all his disclaimers to the contrary. He could see, however, that Brys of Cai's soft and sensual life, with its overabundance of fine food and even finer wines, had rendered his stamina less than that of a hardened veteran as himself.

I want to put an end to this quickly, Rhys thought suddenly. He knew that the longer their conflict raged on, there was always the chance that a lucky blow struck by his enemy could seriously maim or even kill him. He wanted to live a long and happy life with the beautiful Nesta, and his sons were far too young to be orphaned. With a sudden, wild battle cry that startled them all, Brys in particular, Rhys showered a series of fierce blows down upon his adversary, forcing Brys to his knees.

With the terrible realization that death was indeed staring him quite directly in the face, Brys of Cai sought to save himself in a most dishonorable fashion. With an instinct for survival and an agility that surprised even himself, he quickly scooped up a handful of dirt and pebbles from atop the castle walls and, with an unfailing aim, flung them directly into Rhys of St. Bride's face. Blinded temporarily, Rhys could only flail helplessly as Brys of Cai struggled to his feet and raised his own broadsword to deliver the lord of St. Bride's his death blow. Horrified by this sudden turn of events, Wynne screamed helplessly in desperation.

The day had waned while the two men fought, and now from out of the sunset-stained sky, a large black raven swept down, screaming his raucous cry as he dove directly at Brys of Cai's head and face. Startled, Brys was forced to drop his weapon in a vain attempt to defend himself from the huge bird. The creature, however, would not be deterred from his apparent purpose, which seemed to be Brys of Cai's destruction. Against the background of a flaming orange-gold sky, the great black raven deliberately forced Brys backward, all the while screaming fiercely, his sharp beak scoring several open, bloody wounds upon the handsome face and the hands which were raised to shield himself. The bird's large wing span beat upon his enemy. There was nowhere for Brys to go.

In a shrieking final assault upon Brys of Cai, the great black bird drove his victim over the battlements of Castle Cai to a screaming finality below. The body landed with a loud, unpleasant thump upon the wooden drawbridge. It was spread-eagled and faceup, allowing those near it a glimpse of Brys's face, which was contorted in rage, surprise, and terror.

'Madoc!' Wynne whispered as the raven flew up into the burning scarlet sky, cawing triumphantly. Then she whirled about and said fiercely to Harry, 'Give me my child!'

Without another word the man-at-arms thrust Arvel into his mother's care, and Wynne, her son clinging to her, climbed back down through the trapdoor and hurried down the stairs. She flew through Brys's chambers and down the next flight, back into the now empty hall. Her feet barely touching the ground, she raced out of Castle Cai, skirting Brys's dead body, and looked back up. Above her the great black bird flapped his wings noisily, still crying his triumph.

Then to the horror of both Wynne and Nesta, a voice was heard to say, 'Damned impudent bird!' and an arrow flew from somewhere within the ranks of the standing army to find its mark within the raven's chest. The bird plummeted to the ground. With a shriek Wynne pushed Arvel at Gytha and ran to where the raven had fallen. Kneeling upon the ground, she cradled the creature in her arms and heard his voice weakly saying, 'Madoc is ainm dom. Madoc is aimn dom. Te… se… Madoc!'

About them the startled soldiery drew back with a single gasp of surprise. ' 'Tis the prince!' she heard them saying.

'Oh, my dearest love,' Wynne wept, the tears pouring down her pale cheeks. 'What have you done that it should end like this?'

'I have killed my brother,' he said weakly, 'but alas, dearling, there was, it seems, no other way.'

'Arvel is safe,' she told him as a shudder ripped through his body.

Madoc's smoky blue eyes grew bright for a brief moment and he whispered, 'Show me my son!'

'Gytha! Bring Arvel!' Wynne cried, and when Gytha hung back afraid, Nesta took her nephew from the Saxon girl's arms and brought him into Madoc's sight.

Madoc's gaze feasted upon his son, and he said in a satisfied voice, 'He is me. It is good, dearling.' Then the light began to fade swiftly from his eyes, and Wynne cried out, seeing it.

'Madoc! My lord and my love! Do not leave me!' She cradled him tightly, her dark hair, which had come loose in her pursuit of Brys, now falling about them like a curtain. Her tears, flowing copiously, wet both her tunic front and his kirtle.

'You will survive, dearling,' he said, his voice so weak that she was forced to bend even closer to hear him. 'You must!' Then his soul pulled free of his body and he was gone from her.

'Madoc! Madoc!' Wynne cried desperately. 'Do not go my love! Do not go! You must get to know Arvel! And there is the other! I have not yet told you of the new child I am to bear you, the child now growing beneath my heart! The child created of our reunion! Madoc!'

Nesta, having returned Arvel to Gytha, now bent and gently helped her sister-in-law to her feet. She, too, was weeping at the sight of her beloved brother's body. Rhys stumbled out onto the drawbridge, still half blinded with the grit his dishonorable opponent had thrown at him.

'What has happened?' he demanded.

'Did you not see it?' Wynne said tonelessly.

'See what?' Rhys said. 'I had Brys of Cai all but beaten when the dishonorable whoreson threw dirt in my face, and I was blinded for a time. All I could hear was the flapping of wings and a bird's cry. I saw nothing.'

'Madoc saved you,' Wynne told him. 'Although he had sworn never to use his shape-changer's powers again, he did so in order to defeat Brys and save you, Rhys. Now he is dead! Shot through with an arrow by one of our men.' Her tears flowed briefly and hotly for a moment, and then she said, 'Come, my lord. I must prepare an herbal wash for your poor eyes. I doubt there is any serious damage to your sight, but your eyes are most likely scratched and will need my attention. Nesta, take your husband into the castle.'

'She is so cold of heart,' Rhys said to his wife as they reentered Cai. 'Her husband is dead, and she weeps but a moment, and then says she will treat my wounds. Thank God I have you, my angel!'

'Dearest Rhys,' Nesta told him gently, 'you have never understood Wynne of Gwernach. She loved my brother with every fiber of her being. She will mourn him until she dies, and she will never, I promise you, remarry. She will raise her son Arvel, and this new child she is to bear, to know their father as if he were there with them and not just a memory. Her grief will always be a private grief, as her love for Madoc was a private love. She is not cold of heart. Indeed, her heart is broken; but she will go on as Madoc wanted her to go on, and she will survive to raise her children to man- and womanhood. Madoc will always be in her heart, and in her mind and in her daily thoughts. What they have, have had, and will one day have again, is a love that time cannot destroy. Dearest Rhys, my darling lord! I love you so very much!' And Nesta of Powys flung her arms about her husband and kissed him passionately. 'I shall never be able to thank Madoc,' she said, and Rhys knew exactly what she meant. Madoc had saved his life.

Gently he disengaged himself from his beautiful wife's embrace. 'We must help Wynne,' he told her.

'You must offer to help, but let her have the decision whether to accept or not,' she told him, and he nodded his agreement.

Outside, Brys of Cai's body had been lifted from the drawbridge.

'What shall we do with it, lady?' the captain of the guard asked her helplessly, there being no other authority in his sight.

'Lay him out upon the high board in his hall,' Wynne instructed. 'After I have treated the lord of St. Bride's eyes, we will leave here. Before we do, fire this castle. It must be totally destroyed.'

'But the night is upon us, lady,' the captain protested.

'Would