mostly men. I wasn’t sure that would
be the best idea. I shuddered at the memory what could have
happened last night if Llywelyn had been a different man from the
one he was. Given the seriousness of these people, escape seemed
ill-advised as yet. Instead, I returned to the stairs.
Thirty steps led to the second floor.
Instead of stopping there and going to my room, I kept going. I
climbed another twenty steps to the third floor, huffing from the
effort of carrying Anna, and then twenty more before I faced a
heavy wooden door, set in the wall ahead of me. I pulled the latch
and stepped into a new world.
The sea air filled my lungs.
“Look at the bird!” Anna said.
The wind tossed her curls into my face. I
hugged her to me and wrapped my cloak around us both, not wanting
her to get chilled.
It was a seagull, exactly like the ones I
might see at home. But this wasn’t home—wasn’t like any place I’d
ever seen. We stood on the battlements of a castle, just as Anna
had said. But it wasn’t a picturesque castle from a fairytale. It
was a working castle with stables and smoke rising from a
blacksmith’s forge, chickens and pigs and horses, and lots and lots
of men sporting various weaponry: swords, axes, bows and arrows.
Some milled below me in the courtyard of the castle and others
moved purposefully from the keep, through the courtyards, and
gatehouses, and back again.
Beyond the walls, the sea surrounded us on
three sides and crashed on the rocks below so loudly that it wasn’t
any wonder that the sound had penetrated the walls. High white
clouds skidded across the sky, and lower, storm clouds lay on the
horizon. Gray dominated everything: the sky, the sea, the castle
walls on which I stood. It didn’t feel cold enough for snow, but I
could believe that rain was coming. The view awed me.
Anna brought me back to reality, wiggling to
get down. She ran around the inside of the circular walls once
before poking her finger into a hole in the mortar between two of
the stones.
“Don’t be fooled by the view. The man isn’t
worth it.” I nearly jumped in shock, and turned at the voice behind
me. Dafydd stood in the doorway, one shoulder propped against the
frame, his arms folded across his chest. He spoke in French, as he
had with Llywelyn in the bedroom.
“Excuse me?” I said.
David pushed off the frame and walked toward
me. I took a half step backward, stooping to grasp Anna’s hand. I
held it tightly in mine, pulling her away from the wall and toward
me.
“I speak of my brother, Prince Llywelyn,” he
said. “War is coming. He’ll be off and you’ll pine for him for a
while, but then you’ll leave him. They always do.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking
about.”
Dafydd laughed. “Is that so? You soon
will.”
I took another step, trying to get away from
his smile, but the tower had a diameter of twenty feet and I had
nowhere to go. The cold rough stones of the battlement pressed into
my back. Dafydd was very close now. He’d tied his long hair back
from his face with a leather tie, revealing a sculpted face and
strong jaw.
Here was a man who would have tried last
night.
No doubt many women were attracted to him
because of his looks alone, which of course he knew, but I saw
something else in his eyes that seemed sincere, and a little
vulnerable, despite the flippancy of his words.
The thought was icier than the wind. I might
not be the sharpest crayon in the box, but if I needed any further
evidence that the person living the fantasy just might be me, not
Llywelyn, this was it. These people were real. I was out of
place—and time?
I bent to Anna and swung her onto my hip.
Dafydd ignored her. He put his right elbow on the top of a
crenellation and stroked my left sleeve with one finger. “You’re
very beautiful,” he said. “Why have I not seen you before?”
“I haven’t been here before,” I said. I
scooted sideways, putting a few more inches between us.
Unfortunately,
be the best idea. I shuddered at the memory what could have
happened last night if Llywelyn had been a different man from the
one he was. Given the seriousness of these people, escape seemed
ill-advised as yet. Instead, I returned to the stairs.
Thirty steps led to the second floor.
Instead of stopping there and going to my room, I kept going. I
climbed another twenty steps to the third floor, huffing from the
effort of carrying Anna, and then twenty more before I faced a
heavy wooden door, set in the wall ahead of me. I pulled the latch
and stepped into a new world.
The sea air filled my lungs.
“Look at the bird!” Anna said.
The wind tossed her curls into my face. I
hugged her to me and wrapped my cloak around us both, not wanting
her to get chilled.
It was a seagull, exactly like the ones I
might see at home. But this wasn’t home—wasn’t like any place I’d
ever seen. We stood on the battlements of a castle, just as Anna
had said. But it wasn’t a picturesque castle from a fairytale. It
was a working castle with stables and smoke rising from a
blacksmith’s forge, chickens and pigs and horses, and lots and lots
of men sporting various weaponry: swords, axes, bows and arrows.
Some milled below me in the courtyard of the castle and others
moved purposefully from the keep, through the courtyards, and
gatehouses, and back again.
Beyond the walls, the sea surrounded us on
three sides and crashed on the rocks below so loudly that it wasn’t
any wonder that the sound had penetrated the walls. High white
clouds skidded across the sky, and lower, storm clouds lay on the
horizon. Gray dominated everything: the sky, the sea, the castle
walls on which I stood. It didn’t feel cold enough for snow, but I
could believe that rain was coming. The view awed me.
Anna brought me back to reality, wiggling to
get down. She ran around the inside of the circular walls once
before poking her finger into a hole in the mortar between two of
the stones.
“Don’t be fooled by the view. The man isn’t
worth it.” I nearly jumped in shock, and turned at the voice behind
me. Dafydd stood in the doorway, one shoulder propped against the
frame, his arms folded across his chest. He spoke in French, as he
had with Llywelyn in the bedroom.
“Excuse me?” I said.
David pushed off the frame and walked toward
me. I took a half step backward, stooping to grasp Anna’s hand. I
held it tightly in mine, pulling her away from the wall and toward
me.
“I speak of my brother, Prince Llywelyn,” he
said. “War is coming. He’ll be off and you’ll pine for him for a
while, but then you’ll leave him. They always do.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking
about.”
Dafydd laughed. “Is that so? You soon
will.”
I took another step, trying to get away from
his smile, but the tower had a diameter of twenty feet and I had
nowhere to go. The cold rough stones of the battlement pressed into
my back. Dafydd was very close now. He’d tied his long hair back
from his face with a leather tie, revealing a sculpted face and
strong jaw.
Here was a man who would have tried last
night.
No doubt many women were attracted to him
because of his looks alone, which of course he knew, but I saw
something else in his eyes that seemed sincere, and a little
vulnerable, despite the flippancy of his words.
The thought was icier than the wind. I might
not be the sharpest crayon in the box, but if I needed any further
evidence that the person living the fantasy just might be me, not
Llywelyn, this was it. These people were real. I was out of
place—and time?
I bent to Anna and swung her onto my hip.
Dafydd ignored her. He put his right elbow on the top of a
crenellation and stroked my left sleeve with one finger. “You’re
very beautiful,” he said. “Why have I not seen you before?”
“I haven’t been here before,” I said. I
scooted sideways, putting a few more inches between us.
Unfortunately,
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