Chapter
Three
Dwynwen
was greeted by a familiar melody as she descended the stairs of Talgarth castle.
The May carol rang from the harp in the great hall and she could not help but
hum along in harmony.
Since
the break of dawn, the castle was alive with the sound of servants preparing
for the feast of Nos Calan Mai, the eagerly anticipated celebration of
fertility and new life.
She
peered into the great hall before joining her family standing near the main
entrance decorated with branches of draenen wen, laden with plump, red berries.
The tapestries had been cleaned and now adorned the stone walls aglow from
thrushes lit and hung about the room. The fire roared in the hearth filling the
room with warmth and a sweet, fruity scent .
“I was beginning
to wonder what was keeping you.” Ceinwen whispered. “Father requests we be
ready for the arrival of our guests,” her sister said, gesturing toward their
father arriving from his council chamber in his festive robe and tunic.
“Come.” Dwynwen
took her sister’s hand scurrying over to him, placing a kissed on his cheek.
“There you are,”
he said. “My two beauties.”
Delicate features,
radiant complexions with sparkling eyes, his daughters warmed his heart with
their love of life.
“I am truly
blessed.” King Brychan of Brycheiniog turned to his family, waiting by his side. “Let the merriment
commence!”
The doors opened
and visitors from the bordering kingdoms of Dyfed and Glywysing entered Talgarth
castle. Within moments, cups and
trenchers were filled to overflowing, and conversations regarding the sporting
games and the choosing of the May King and Queen could be overheard. Eager to
participate, many young women hoped to be crowned May Queen.
“Go.” King Brychan
addressed his children, a cup of mead in his hands. “Enjoy the festivities.”
“You are most
gracious, father.” Nectan, the king’s eldest son, bowed and then offered his
arm to his sisters.“ Come, I will escort you.”
With eyes aglow
with excitement, Dwynwen and Ceinwen followed their father on the arm of the
heir to the throne.
Dwynwen’s sweet
smile captivated the hearts of many young men, as they longed to steal her away
from her dancing partners, but none more than the regal one who had been
watching her every move. He decided she
was by far the prettiest of all the women in the room.
She was perfect,
and in so being, she would be his.
Chapter Four
Gwen’s eyes sprang
open. She pushed herself up from the cushions of the settee in the parlour. She
felt her hair falling loose against her shoulders, no longer tied back.
“What happened?”
“You fainted.” Mr.
Pryce turned from the window, the gold pendant that had been swinging like a pendulum
in his hands, stilled.
“How do you feel?” Mr. Pryce asked.
“I don’t know. How
should I feel?” Annoyed, she padded the cushions, searching for her hair clip.
“I’ve never fainted before.”
“You’ve been
through so much, you said so yourself. Perhaps more than I’d imagined.” He slid
the pendant back into its pouch. “Now that you are recovered, I will take my leave
so you may rest, Miss Evans.” He took his hat and make his way to the front
door. “I shouldn’t have come. I
apologize for adding to your burden.”
“But—" Bewildered,
Gwen stared at the door, wondering what exactly had happened in this morning
and how, in only a few moments, her simple life could be filled with so many
questions. She sprang to the window but Mr. Pryce was nowhere in sight. She
threw open the door and dashed down the porch steps. Turning in a circle, she
glanced around, but the man had disappeared, just as he had a few days ago.
Only this time she
knew who he was.
Liam Pryce.
Leaning against
the post, the things he’d said to her came flooding back. Nothing made sense,
but neither did mysterious whispers and humming noises. Could they all be
connected? She had to find out more about Mr. Liam Pryce from Wales. A stranger in a small and protective town like
Angel’s Cove didn’t usually go unnoticed, especially if he had been asking
making inquiries. Her most reliable source of information was sitting in the
front office of the parish parsonage, and she had an appointment with him this
morning. Running back into the house, she gathered her things and left,
slamming the door on her way out.
Mr. Pryce felt the
vibrations of the front door banging shut, and Gwen’s determined footsteps
descending the stairs, as he leaned against the side of the Evans’ home.
Catching his breath and bracing himself against the pain in his chest, he
waited until Miss Evans’ footsteps faded before venturing back out onto the
road.
* *
* *
“Gwen. I’m happy
to see you,” Reverend Matthews said as he opened the door.
“I’m sorry I’m
late.”
“No, you’re right
on time,” he replied, leading her to his office. “Please excuse the mess. I’m attempting to do some filing.”
She noticed papers
strewn across his desk. The paperwork her mother usually took care of, no doubt.
The reverend looked tired. His face looked older, his eyes, dimmer. Gwen
wondered when he’d hire a replacement. Her heart ached at the thought.
“Let me clear a
spot,” he said, straightening up his desk. “Here, sit down.”
“Thank you.” She took
a seat in front of his desk. “I’m so grateful for your help.”
“Your mother was… well,
you know.” He slid some files into the top drawer of his desk and sat down in
his chair. Swallowing hard he looked up. An unguarded truth about how much he
loved her mother, shone in his eyes, confirming what Gwen had always suspected.
“I’m happy to help you, in any way I can.”
“You were special to her as well. I hope you know that.”
The reverend,
lowered his head and nodded. “Thank you for saying so. Should we get started on
this paperwork?”
“Of course. But
before we do, I just wanted to tell you that I had a visitor this morning, a
man from Wales claiming to have known my mother’s family.”
“From Wales?’
“Liam Pryce,” Gwen replied. “Have you heard of
him. He says our families are somehow connected.”
“I can’t say that
I have.” He looked puzzled. “Is he a relative?”
“No, I don’t think
so.” She took the pendant from around her neck and placed it on the desk. “Look at what Mum left me. Her letter said it
had been in her family for years, but I’d never seen it before. Mr. Pryce had
one exactly like it.”
“It’s a Celtic
cross, a common religious symbol,” the reverend said, shrugging. “Perhaps it’s a
coincidence that they look similar.”
“There are exactly
alike, and both have an inscription on the back.”
The reverend
turned the pendant over in his hands.
“According to Mr. Pryce, it’s written in
Welsh, and it says ‘a cross to guide us and a never-ending circle to bind us
forever’. His pendant had the same inscription. It can’t be a coincidence.”
“That does seem odd,”
he mused. “And this last word here, is
that your grandmother’s name?”
“Mr. Pryce said
the name actually belongs to one of our ancestors. That a connection exists because
of the name, and the two pendants”
“I’m sure he
intended to only offer his condolences and used the pendant as a way to start
conversation.” He handed the pendant
back to her. “Perhaps he’s a history and genealogy enthusiast.”
“He did seem to
know a lot about that sort of thing, but he didn’t stay long so I didn’t get a
chance to ask,” she said, deciding
against telling him what they had actually talked about. “So, you haven’t heard gossip about a stranger
in town and where he might be staying?”
“No, I’m afraid not.”
His brow furrowed. “Is everything all
right? Was the visit unpleasant? Did he
try—?”
“Oh no. Nothing
like that. I guess I was just caught off-guard about the pendant, especially
since Mum never mentioned it before. I’d be interested to know more.”
“Well, your mother kept a lot of things to
herself, so don’t be vexed about that.”
“I’m not.”
“And, I’ve haven’t
really been out this past week, so I’ve not heard anything, but Mrs. Reilly
might know. She knows everything.”
Gwen chuckled. “I’ll ask her, when I visit
Anne later.”
“Well now my
curiosity is piqued,” the reverend said, sliding a folder across the desk.
Gwen opened the
folder and took the pen the reverend offered to her.
“So is mine,” she whispered.
