A Moment in Time

heartily, leaving her rosy and breathless. 'Farewell, lady mine. Magic the time between us away, my love. Until we meet again!' He turned his horse and called out a command to his men to follow.

Madoc's party sat on their horses a minute watching Rhys and his men go, and then, at Madoc's signal, they moved off in the opposite direction. Wynne was silent for most of the rest of their journey. Having never been more than a mile or two from Gwernach, she was awed and fascinated by their travels. There was such a variety of countryside. They moved through dark forests, across wide, meadowlike plains edged in marshes, over hills both gentle and steep; and always the mountains rose before them, beckoning them onward.

Madoc's castle of Raven 's Rock, or Bran's Craig as it was called in the Celtic Welsh tongue, was located in the Black Mountains of Powys. When she first saw it, Wynne thought she must be dreaming, for never before had she seen anything like that which arose before her now. It seemed to spring from the mountainside itself. Indeed, it appeared to be not just a part of the mountain, but one with it.

'It is a magical place,' she said softly upon her first sight of her new home.

'Is it?' he said.

'Do not toy with me, my lord,' Wynne said sharply. 'Your family's power is said to stem from Merlin himself. Did not Merlin help Arthwr to fashion Camelot? How else could you carve a castle from the mountainside?'

'Raven's Rock merely looks as if it is one and the same with the mountain. That is because it is built of the same granite the mountains are made of, dearling. My ancestor thought it a good camouflage.'

'I admit to being ignorant where castles are concerned, but I have never seen a place such as Raven's Rock,' Wynne said. 'It looks almost foreign in its design.'

'It is,' he told her. 'It is a mixture of styles not yet common to this island of Britain upon which we live. My ancestor brought back his ideas from his travels. He spent many years traveling the world. The original part of the building is a round tower.'

'There are four towers,' Wynne noted.

'Look closely,' he told her as their horses carefully traversed the steep trail across the gorge from Raven's Rock. 'Two towers are round and two square. It is the tower on the west that is the original one.'

'Where are your gardens?' she asked.

'The open areas that are walled upon the edges of the cliffs are called terraces, Wynne. There my gardens are set, and they are most fair to the eye. I have already sent word ahead that my gardener open a place for you to plant your herb cuttings. That way they will settle themselves into the earth before the winter comes. It will be good to have a woman's touch in the gardens again. They have not been quite the same since my mother's death. The earth responds well to a woman's touch. My sister Nesta could not bring herself to plant in our mother's garden. She said it made her sad.'

'Women understand the earth, my lord, for the earth gives life even as women are capable of giving life.'

The trail that they followed wound down into the gorge which was traversed by a swiftly flowing small river. A sturdily built stone bridge spanned the river. They crossed it to the other side, where they followed another narrow road up the mountain to the castle gates. Raven's Rock had no moat. It needed none, for the road to it was but one horse in width. It was truly impregnable to anyone foolish enough to seek to attack it.

'It appears a mighty and terrifying place approaching it for the first time,' Madoc said to Wynne, 'but once you have passed beneath the portcullis, you will find yourself in a gracious and beautiful world.'

'It appears so black and so fierce as we grow nearer,' Wynne told him, gazing up at the dark soaring towers and sharply etched parapets of the castle.

'To frighten our enemies,' he answered.

'Do you have enemies, my lord?'

'Few men are without them, I fear, my dearling,' he said, but no more.

A loud cry arose from the men at arms upon the walls of Raven's Rock. They shouted the prince's name over and over again by way of greeting him. 'Madoc! Madoc! Madoc!'

'Do they love him so?' Wynne inquired of Nesta.

'Aye, they do,' Nesta said. 'There is something about the princes of Wenwynwyn that binds men in loyalty to them. They say Madoc's father, Prince Gwalchmal, was very much like him.'

'What happened to Madoc's father?' Wynne asked. 'I know so little of this family into which I am expected to wed.'

'No one really knows,' Nesta said. 'Prince Gwalchmal was found at the foot of the mountain one early spring day, his neck broken. It is believed he fell, although no one knows how or why it happened. He was a man in his prime, which made it all the more confusing. Madoc was seven at the time. Our mother, Gwenhwyvar, remarried with a haste that some might have thought indecent; but she felt she needed to protect Madoc. He was a child incapable of protecting himself. She took for her second husband the twin of her first husband, Cynbel of Cai. Madoc's father had died in March. Gwenhwyvar wed Cynbel in May of that same year. Our brother, Brys, was born the following February.'

'A twin brother!' Wynne said, amazed. 'At Gwernach a serf woman gave birth to two daughters at the same time. No one could ever tell them apart, for they were that alike.'

'Madoc's father and mine, although born at the same time, did not look at all alike,' Nesta told Wynne. 'Madoc is said to be his father's image; dark hair, fair skin, and those wonderful blue eyes. Gwalchmal looked like all princes of Powys-Wenwynwyn do; but my father, Cynbel of Cai, favored our grandmother's family, who are fair of hair.'

'Then your father raised Madoc?'

'Aye,' Nesta said shortly, and when Wynne looked questioningly, she continued in a low voice. 'My brother Brys is just like our father. Beautiful to the eye and charming beyond all, but wicked! It is said that Gwalchmal and Cynbel almost killed their mother at their birthing, for each was determined to be the first into the world that he might inherit Raven's Rock. It is said that when Gwalchmal, the firstborn, pushed forth from his mother's womb, Cynbel's fist was grasping his ankle tightly as if to hold him back.'

Wynne's eyes widened in shock.

'The twin brothers fought constantly throughout their childhood and youth,' Nesta continued. 'They were always in competition with one another. There was nothing that Gwalchmal did that Cynbel did not try to outdo. When our maternal great-grandfather died, he had no surviving male heirs. His castle at Cai was inherited by Gwalchmal and Cynbel's mother. Cynbel was sent to Castle Cai in order to separate him from Gwalchmal. It was feared that they would kill each other, leaving the line of the princes of Powys-Wenwynwyn, extinct. The strain of birthing her sons had been too great for my grandmother. She had no other children. Nonetheless, she lived to a great old age.'

'Stop a moment,' Wynne said. 'You told me you had no powers, Nesta, for the powers of Wenwynwyn are inherited through the male line and you and Madoc had different fathers. Now I learn that your father and Madoc's were twin brothers. How can it be that he has powers and you do not? And what of your brother, Brys of Cai?'

'My grandfather, Caradoc, when he saw the wickedness of his son, Cynbel, cast a mighty spell upon him, removing the powers he might otherwise have gained when he grew to maturity. That spell also included Cynbel's descendants, a thousand generations hence. I usually find it easier when I am in a position to have to explain my situation to simply say Madoc and I have different fathers and the gift comes from Madoc's father's line.'

'Why are you closer to Madoc than your brother, Brys?' Wynne asked.

'Is it so obvious?' Nesta looked distressed. Then she explained, 'Brys is three and a half years older than I am. When I was not quite six years of age, Brys attempted to use me as a man would use a woman. I fought him, for I knew what he desired of me was wrong. Our father came upon us, and I ran weeping to him, for protection. Instead of punishing Brys, our father laughed. He was pleased with his son's burgeoning manhood and he said to him, 'Nay, lad, you are doing it wrong. No wonder you have not succeeded in your attempts. I will show you how.' Then he reached for me. He was quite drunk at the time.

'And indeed he would have committed the sin of incest with me had not Madoc arrived on the scene. One look told him the deviltry my father and my brother were up to, and his anger was awesome to behold. He caught me up in his arms, thus protecting me. My father had never been truly kind to Madoc, but he was never allowed the opportunity to harm him, for the castle servants were vigilant and Madoc was clever. Still, my father hated the fact that it was Madoc who was the prince of Wenwynwyn and not he. My father shouted at Madoc that he had no rights in this matter. I was his daughter to do with as he pleased. Madoc, who was now virtually grown, replied that it