Courtly Love 3

Life at court was never dull, Angharad learned. There was always someone to talk to about someone or something else. She was surrounded by people close to her own age who understood what it was like to be fourteen.

She had expected to be received with hostility because she was the daughter of a traitor. But to the contrary, the people were sympathetic towards her for having no father and a wastrel of a brother. Society did not believe in a bloodguilt for women. Only Marared believed in it.

Angharad brought Shadow to court with her. Marared raised no objections, did not even notice. Angharad’s friends were both shocked and impressed by the stallion, for he was a strong and finely built animal, high-spirited and playful. But they indulged her and were even in awe of her daring.

The court was currently at the palace in the capitol, Beltru. The city was beautiful and full of life. It was a novelty for Angharad to walk down the streets and purchase goods from the vendors. It was entertaining to watch street performers. She would watch and laugh with the rest of the crowd, then have a servant give them a coin or two.

Angharad rode Shadow to the temple a few times a week to seek the priests; they received her with warmth, happy to share their knowledge with her. Angharad became well known and adored in Beltru. And she loved the city in return because she had lived a mostly cloistered life in her mother’s castle.

She had also adopted a shorter name, Hari, for being called Angharad all the time was tiresome. And she rather liked the power associated with taking on a name of her own.

Angharad learned what it meant to be a wealthy young woman with power over herself and even others; she tasted a freedom and independence that she began to relish.

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“This castle has no chance of withstanding a siege, my lord, for if you will look closely, you’ll see the stones are uneven, crumbling in minute places. All you need do is use the mangonel to breach its walls. But an easier way is to offer up an ultimatum. They can either starve to death or surrender honorably. Did not your spies report that they were unprepared for this attack, were expecting one at a northern castle? So their supplies will be limited, their defenses weak.”

A tall, fair-haired man with piercing blue eyes stroked his beard in contemplation. At last, he nodded and grinned. “Yes, they did indeed report that, William,” the man said. “If we destroy this castle, it will be no loss. It would serve my interests to build a new one on its foundation to secure my holding of this land.”

William grinned in return. “Of course, my lord.”

“With such a commander as you, I do not understand how the Lord Rhys lost to Griffith,” the man suddenly said thoughtfully, with no malice intended.

“Griffith happens to be a brilliant commander,” William said honestly, “but he does lack confidence when it comes to battles of interest between his lords. His judgment has always been flawed, his trust too easily given, and thus his suspicion too easily fired up.”

“And so that is why he was convinced you were consorting with Lord Hywel. I believe that your call for arrest caused quite a commotion with the other barons.”

“Yes, my lord, for they had just finished a council in which they had all agreed upon my pardon. I come from a good family, my father was an honorable man, and I was the lord of one of the richest earldoms in the kingdom. But Griffith has ever been one to quickly change his mind, to see what he wants to see. So my previous concept that all kings are born with king-like qualities was at last proved wrong. I have been wondering why no one bothered to tell me the truth!”

The other man laughed heartily as he slapped William on the arm. “Your so called king-like qualities are invested in a man from the gods if he should so prove himself worthy. That is why the gods favor some kings, forsake others. I like to think I have been favored, for though my reign has been a hard road, it has been successful and fruitful.”

Together, William and the king, Jonathan, walked through the army encampment. Men bowed and greeted the king respectfully. Jonathan occasionally stopped, greeted a soldier by name and exchanged a few words, then moved on. One of the most brilliant tactics of Jonathan was that he won the love and faith of his soldiers.

At last, they reached Jonathan’s tent and seated themselves inside while a servant poured them wine. Jonathan stared into his wine cup for a moment, as if searching for something. Then he looked up at the older man. “You have proved yourself loyal, trustworthy, and honorable,” he said at last. “Your services to my country have been exemplary, having been at my side constantly in battle and sieges. You never once took advantage of your cousin’s place at my court. And I value that above all. I do not allow such good qualities and deeds to go unnoticed, or unrewarded.”

William was surprised by Jonathan’s words, for the king was usually sparing with praise. They were close to the same age, hardened and seasoned by war. William thought they were similar in many aspects, and usually believed that praise was a weakness unless truly deserved. “My lord, I am speechless. I surely do not expect such a kind account of myself! Pretty soon my head will be too big to fit through the doors!”

Jonathan laughed. “But of course you do. As a reward, I have taken the liberty of finding you a wife.”

William choked on his wine and quickly set his cup down, staring in disbelief at Jonathan. He cleared his throat. “My lord, I was not aware I had lost one.”

“She is my own niece, in fact. You know my brother, Edward. He has four daughters and three sons. This daughter is his eldest child, seventeen years of age, and quite pretty. Edward is bringing her to court next month so that you may meet her.”

William did not say anything immediately, though his mind was whirling at the possibility. To be offered the king’s own niece was indeed an honor, one that would secure him with the king for life. He had been in Palasar for but a few months and was sure his star would continue to rise.
“You honor me, my lord,” he said slowly. “But at what further price shall this reward be bestowed?”

Jonathan was not offended by the comment. “You have already sworn fealty to me. But I shall want you by my side, on my counsel for at least the next five years. You are a shrewd man, de Hewitt, and I would be a damn fool to lose you to Griffith. I know you still have holdings in Altair, under your lady mother, of course. But I want you to build roots here, as well.”

William laughed without the mirth. The king had certainly put thought into his proposal, and it would put William on a tight leash. But then, to be in a king’s favor, and be related by marriage was not something to put aside lightly.

To gain more time to think, William drained his wine cup. Once he set his cup down again, he said slowly, “My lord, I would be honored to meet your niece. But might I know one thing?”

Jonathan raised his eyebrow in question. “Of course.”

“What is the name of this pretty young woman?”

Jonathan at last drew a relaxed breath. For a moment, he thought that William would balk. William had once mentioned a young lass whom he’d been betrothed to in Altair. Jonathan had been afraid he would mean to eventually honor it and desert Palasar when Jonathan needed strong, able-minded men.

Jonathan had good reason to want to keep William close at hand. He was a wealthy man, a brilliant battle commander, intelligent and witty. It would benefit Jonathan to have such a man at his side against the rebels. And what better way to keep home close than by a bond of blood?

At last, Jonathan lifted his wine glass, as if to toast. “Her name is Anne.”

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“Hari, have you heard the latest news?” Gwenifer said nonchalantly as she fanned herself.

“Of course she hasn’t,” Elen said. “No one ever hears things before you, love.”

Angharad grinned at the other girls. Whatever it was that Gwenifer had to say was always worth hearing, even if it wasn’t always exactly truthful. Elen was another firestorm in court. Angharad had eventually learned that she could never trust either girl with a true secret, but they made wonderful confidants when one had problems or worries. At sixteen, Gwenifer was worldly and knowledgeable about all things, especially flirtations and relationships between men and women. Elen, who was fifteen, was as confident and bold as Gwenifer. Having just reached her fifteenth birthday, Angharad was learning that there was still so much she needed to learn.

They were sitting in the gardens, as they’d become accustomed to doing in the past six months that Angharad had been at court. It was a sunny day, and the scent of flowers was thick in the air.

“Well, it appears that the former earl of Montyth has been seen at the Palasari court!” Gwenifer said, eager to relate the details. “He has risen quickly in the favor of the king, for it turns out that he is the cousin of the very wealthy and prominent earl of Borlane.”

“But it is said that the two men do not get along so very well,” Elen interjected. “They say the Palasari kinsman has a caustic, sharp tongue, is a very stern and commanding man.”

“The king has already granted him titles and is said to be considering in giving William his own niece.” Gwenifer’s dark eyes were sparkling. “He is one of the most sought-after men at the Palasari court. Oh how I wish he would return to our court!”

Elen was giggling. “How exciting that would be!”

“I doubt he would with a price on his head,” Angharad said coolly. She had indeed heard the rumor of William’s engagement, and she had never known greater relief. Perhaps he would never come back, and she would never have to see those eyes eating at her.

Gwenifer was studying her younger friend with concern and puzzlement. “Hari, darling, what is it? Are you unwell?” Then she gasped and put a hand to her forehead as she met Elen’s eyes. “Dear gods, I had completely forgotten! You were once betrothed to him, were you not?” Gwenifer’s expression was of the sincerest contrition as she knelt by Angharad’s side. “Dearest, please forgive us for speaking so heartlessly. After all, it is only idle gossip; much of it is probably not true.”

Elen was looking anguished as well. “Oh dearest, how thoughtless we were. Do forgive us.”

But Angharad smiled wanly. “I never desired to marry William. Oh, he is handsome for sure, and wealthy. But he made me uncomfortable, made me feel as if he could see through my clothes. And he is old enough to be my father.” She shivered. “I never trusted him and I am glad the king has forced him into exile.”

Gwenifer was now frowning. “Hari, I never knew. He sounds completely villainous. He never tried anything with you, did he? You do know what happens between a man and a woman?”

Now Angharad hesitated, not wanting to appear foolish. “I have some idea, but I am not completely sure. And no, he never made advances. I do not want to know what he would have done to me.”

“You are young,” Gwenifer said, taking her hand and patting it. “But I will explain everything you will ever need to know about a man.”

“How do you know of such things?” Angharad asked carefully.

Gwenifer laughed, guessing what the other girl was thinking. “Why, my mother told me all I needed to know ages ago. To play the game of love and flirtation, one must know everything about one’s opponent.”

“And perhaps certain young opponents taught her a few things, as well,” Elen added slyly.

Gwenifer only shrugged and smiled secretively. “Now Hari, there is a new young man coming to court on the morrow, my mother tells me. His name is Tegwared de Luthe and is right handsome.”

“He is just turned twenty and quite the reckless horseman,” Elen added slyly. “By the time we are done with you, you will have him eating out of your hand. He will be your first test.”

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Tegwared was eyeing her boldly, and she smiled encouragingly at him. Gwenifer and Elen had been right; he was very handsome with his dark looks, and he knew exactly the right things to say. He also was heir to his father's earldom. Angharad eyed him appreciatively in return, flattered that he would single her out. But she supposed her own lands made her an enticing prey.

"My lady, it is getting a little warm in here, no? Would you do the honor of accompanying me to the gardens for a breath of fresh air?" Tegwared asked as he half bowed with his hand over his heart. "Whilst out there, you could show me the best spots."

Angharad side-glanced at her friends, feeling the first time that night uncertainty. Gwenifer grinned as she gave Angharad a little push. Angharad gracefully curtsied and accepted Tegwared's offered arm. He led her to the open doors that did offer an enticing scent of cool and fresh air. In the gardens, candles and lanterns had been lit, and the two walked in silence for a few moments.

Angharad could not help the flutter of nervousness and anticipation, for she knew what men wanted when they asked a woman to go outside to the gardens or somewhere private. Gwenifer had told her all about it over the past few weeks. She felt torn between fear and excitement.

"I know a beautiful spot," she suddenly said as she tugged at Tegwared's arm. "It has a lovely drooping tree with the blossoms just coming out."

Tegwared smiled. "Lead the way," he murmured as his arm slid around her waist.

She pulled him off of the stone path and onto another smaller dirt path. The tree was large and blooming with white blossoms. “Is it not lovely?"” she said, not sure what to do.

Tegwared said nothing as he took her hand in his and pulled her through the drooping branches. Slivers of moonlight peeked through so that Angharad could only see the outline of him and some of his face, which was suddenly coming closer to her own. At the first gentle touch of his lips, a shiver ran through her body. He slowly continued to ease his mouth over hers, becoming familiar with his new territory. His hands began to caress her waist.

Angharad could taste the wine on Tegwared's lips, and she could almost imagine that she was getting drunk off of it, for her body had become alive with excitement, a fluttering beginning in her stomach, the blood pounding in her ears. She wrapped her arms around his neck to keep from falling, for her knees had become weak. She gasped as she felt his tongue against hers. But as he continued to gently probe into her mouth, she relaxed and began her own hesitant tongue-flickerings. She could feel his smile even as he continued to kiss her.

"You are so beautiful, Angharad," he whispered against the skin of her neck, the scent of jasmine filling his senses. "I am glad I came to Griffith's court, for such a jewel as you is not to be overlooked."

She shivered at the warmth of his breath and smiled as she leaned her head against him. "So I am gathering that you like the gardens?" she murmured teasingly.

He laughed as he continued to run his hands across her waist. "Oh, yes. I am very pleased with them. Now that I've explored them a bit more, I find I like them even more than I first did. And I would certainly like to see them again."

Angharad stood up on her tiptoes. "I have much more to show you," she said against his ear. Even in the dim moonlight, she could see his eyes widen, then his lips curl up in a smile as he leaned his head down to hers again. And she suddenly smiled, as well, for she truly was enjoying herself. And she did not feel even the slightest stir of love for him. Only a strange and strong need for what he had to give, a need that was being made worse as he continued to give her more.

And so after Tegwared left, Ednyved replaced him, and then Owain, Rhys, Llewelyn, then Gruffydd, Tudur, and so on. She was not so foolish or naive as to believe that they loved her, for love in their society was a trivial and useless emotion. Rather, they lusted after her money and her body. Many had offered her a marriage proposal, all of which she turned down. She had no interest in marrying yet, for she would then have to give up her freedom and independence, of which she had only just discovered.

She also did not marry because she never wanted a man to hold power over her the way that William had. She had feared and loathed him, and yet, had been unable to stop his attentions. But now, she held all the power.

Soon, Angharad became the challenge that every man wanted to attempt. She was the woman who promised everything and gave very little. Which man would win her heart and her lands, which man would end up being Angharad de Langor's husband. But to Angharad, there was only one pursuit in these courtly games of love, and that was of personal satisfaction.