Authors: Anna Markland
She fell asleep clutching the amber beads each night. She looked forward to the birth of her child. Then she would have someone who would return her love.
***
The fair weather soon deteriorated into heavy spring rains. The ground underfoot was boggy. As abruptly as the rain came, it stopped, to be replaced by unusual hot, sunny days. A cloying mist rose off the saturated terrain. The cartographers were kept busy recording the observations and calculations they and the nobles made. Once they arrived at Powwydd, they rested a few days, then struck out for the coast, leaving much of the material they’d recorded at the
llys
.
After three weeks of forging through bogs and forests, fording rivers swollen with spring rains rushing to hurl themselves over impossibly high waterfalls, and eating and sleeping in damp conditions, morale among the men-at-arms was at a low ebb and everyone’s patience and enthusiasm were wearing thin.
They’d lost twelve horses. Five had to be destroyed when they went lame. Another broke its leg in a pothole. Four soldiers and their horses drowned in the River Tryweryn, near Frongoch. It had been a close call—the ford they had chosen proved to be deeper than they thought. The rushing waters threatened to submerge many of the men, including Rhys and Baudoin. It was the heroic efforts of Rhun and Rhydderch that saved two other bowmen whose mounts panicked in the middle of the swollen river. Two packhorses were also swept away, along with the equipment they carried. It was a serious blow to the expedition. Another man had plunged to his death off a cliff. There were whispers of a curse on the venture.
They had all but decided to turn back. Rhys was despondent. If only they could go a bit further. He approached Baudoin. “I propose the two of us ride ahead to scout the lay of the land. According to the information we have, the next part of the journey should be relatively easy and we could mayhap accomplish a few more days where we might actually make progress.”
“I’d rather turn back now, Rhys. We aren’t making progress and the men have lost interest. I want to get back to be with Carys.”
They argued back and forth until Rhys got his way and Baudoin agreed reluctantly. At dawn the next day the two set off. Rhun wanted to accompany them, but they didn’t intend to go far and Rhys judged his brother’s time would be better spent preparing the group for the return journey to Powwydd.
The first few miles did prove to be easy going, and Rhys felt the tension leave his body as they rode across the open moorlands glowing with daffodils as far as the eye could see. It was thus that they were not paying full attention when they unexpectedly found themselves on the very edge of a deep, steeply sided, wooded gorge.
The ground was soft and Rhys cautioned Baudoin. “Careful, rein in your horse, its hooves are sinking in the crumbling dirt.”
Baudoin urged his horse away from the edge. Suddenly, a rabbit darted out from a bush in front of Baudoin’s stallion. Startled, the horse reared up on its hind legs. Despite struggling to calm the beast and hold on, Baudoin slid from its back.
Rhys feared his brother-by-marriage was about to fall into the gorge and sprang from his own horse to grab him away from the flailing hooves. His actions further alarmed Baudoin’s frenzied mount which bumped the two men heavily in its attempts to save itself. Rhys and Baudoin tumbled into the abyss.
Darkness fell in the main camp. Rhydderch and Rhun paced, scanning the horizon for any sign the two scouts were returning.
“This isn’t good,” they said simultaneously.
Baudoin and Rhys should have returned well before this. Their plan had never been to stay out overnight. The twins couldn’t venture out in the darkness to find them. They would have to wait until the morrow.
Rhun wanted to sound positive. “Perhaps one of the horses has gone lame and this has slowed them down.”
“We should never have let them go off alone,” Rhydderch replied. “Rhys is no warrior; he doesn’t know the terrain like you and I do. And while Baudoin is a warrior, he doesn’t know Wales.”
Neither man slept. At first light they gathered a small party of men and set off in search of their overdue brothers.
“They may be hurt. We need to take rope and bindings. What else can you think of?” Rhun asked his more practical twin.
***
Rhys slowly regained his wits, but opening his eyes hurt. It was dark, but dawn might not be far off. Pain racked his body. Where was he?
Gradually the memory of the terrifying fall came back to him. “Baudoin?” he rasped. This brought on a fit of coughing. He gritted his teeth against the pain that seared through his chest.
He turned his head. As dawn’s first rays filtered onto the rocky ledge on which he lay, he caught sight of Baudoin a few feet away, one leg hanging over the edge of the ledge. He wasn’t moving. Rhys looked up at the thickly wooded steep slopes of the gorge above him, and uttered a prayer of grateful thanks they hadn’t fallen to the very bottom. However, they’d fallen far enough.
How was he going to get out, and how was he going to get Baudoin out—if he still lived? Rhun and Rhydderch would search for them. He had to hang on, but the pain made it difficult to remain alert. He was certain he’d broken his ribs, and there was definitely something wrong with both legs.
Without thinking he reached for his amber beads, but they were gone. He panicked. Had they broken in the fall? Then he remembered. He blinked away tears as his thoughts turned to Annalise and their unborn child. “I may not get to see my son,” he wailed aloud, then clenched his fists.
Courage! You’ll survive this ordeal.
“I don’t intend to make my wife a widow yet,” he determined. “Stay awake, Rhys, help is on the way. Pray for me, Annalise, and pray for Baudoin.”
Baudoin hadn’t moved. Was his chest rising and falling? It was barely perceptible, but it was there. Rhys drifted in and out of sleep and wasn’t sure how long he’d lain there. He was so thirsty! He licked his dry lips as he watched a tiny spider repairing its dew-laden web in a nearby root. He and Baudoin were caught as surely as the spider’s prey.
What was that? A faint sound? Someone calling his name? Yes—he could hear someone calling his name. “Listen! Rhun and Rhydderch are searching for us.”
He tried calling back, but his voice didn’t seem to be working and he was afraid the strangled “
Rhun
” he ground out wouldn’t be heard.
The voices were louder now, coming closer. “Rhys! Rhys! Baudoin! Rhys!”
“They must have found our horses, must understand we’re down here,” he said to Baudoin, hoping his brother-by-marriage could hear him.
He took a deep breath, immediately regretting it as pain snaked through him. “Rhun! We’re in the gorge. On a ledge.”
No response.
“Rhys!” Fainter now.
He clenched his fists, fighting the pain. “They’re moving away. Didn’t they see where the horse crumbled the earth at the edge?”
***
Rhun and Rhydderch were sure Rhys and Baudoin had fallen into the gorge, but where? The horses had been retrieved well away from the edge and the tracks were confused.
“We must find where they went over!” Rhydderch shouted to the rest of the group. “Look carefully along the edge.”
He and Rhun lay down on their bellies and peered into the gorge.
“I can’t see the bottom,” Rhun said dispiritedly.
Rhydderch rose and carefully picked his way along the edge. The earth was eroded and dangerously uneven in many places. He examined several spots over and over before deciding which was the most likely. “Here! This is where they fell.”
Rhun joined him and knelt at the rim. “Rhys!” he yelled, cupping his hands to his mouth.
“Rhun!” came the faint reply. “Rhun, can you hear me?”
“I hear you, brother,” Rhun shouted, his heart overflowing with relief that his older brother had survived his fall.
“We’re on a small ledge, about twenty-five feet down. I’m not able to move my legs and I don’t know if Baudoin lives or not. But he’s here with me.”
“Fear not, Rhys, we’ll get you out,” Rhydderch shouted, peering over the edge. He turned to Rhun. “I can’t see them. How are we going to accomplish this?” They each raked a hand through their hair, trying desperately to think of a solution.
***
Carys and Annalise were preparing salves. The healer was instructing her sister-by-marriage how to extract healing properties from dried marigolds. Suddenly, Carys dropped the mortar and pestle. Both clattered to the floor and the floral aroma filled the air. The healer grasped her rounded belly. Annalise looked at her stricken face. Something was terribly wrong. “What is it, Carys? Are you unwell? Is it the babe?”
Carys shook her head. “Something has happened, Annalise. Something has happened to Baudoin—and to Rhys—I can feel it—something bad.”
Annalise’s heart skipped and she grasped the beads around her neck. She had never liked the aroma of marigolds, now it overwhelmed her. “Rhys? How do you know?”
“I sense things, especially about people I love deeply. They have both fallen.”
“Fallen?” Annalise could barely utter the word. She pressed a tight fist to her mouth. “Do you mean they’re—dead?” The room seemed to be spinning around her. She gripped the edge of the trestle table.
“I don’t know,” Carys cried as tears threatened to engulf her too. She grasped Annalise by the hand. “We must pray.”
Charting, mapping and measuring required a great deal of rope. Rhun found several sturdy lengths which he and his brother tied securely to a nearby oak. Rhydderch and three other men braced the rope and Rhun rappelled into the gorge. Dirt and debris showered down on Rhys and Baudoin. Rhys could barely lift his arms to protect his face. Rhun came over the edge and Rhys guided him as he descended. Rhun set his feet carefully on the edge of the ledge where Rhys and Baudoin lay. There was little room to manoeuvre, but he dropped to his knees at his brother’s side and clasped his hand.
“Rhys! I’m glad to see you,” he choked.
Rhys forced a smile. “Not as relieved as I am to see you! I never thought to be happy to see that flaming mop of hair.”
Rhun looked around. “Now, how to get you out of here?”
Rhys pointed to his chest. “My ribs are broken—and perhaps both legs,” he admitted reluctantly. “Look to Baudoin. Does he breathe still? I’m fearful he will tumble off the edge if he wakens.”
Rhun moved cautiously to kneel by Baudoin, listening for the sound of breathing. “He’s still warm, and he breathes. We’ll get you out, and I’ll return for Baudoin. Can you sit?”
It took Rhys several painful attempts to get into a sitting position. He came close to swooning at the sight of the jagged bone sticking out of his right shin. His belly rebelled, but retching would pour oil on the fire burning his gut.
Rhun was saying something. “I’m going to the top to get Rhydderch. We’ll need to bind you to me. You won’t be able to hang on to me as we go up otherwise.”
Rhys watched Rhun climb back up the rope—he’d never felt so alone. He swallowed the lump that seemed to be lodged in his throat. “Annalise, pray for me, my beloved,” he whispered.
Beloved
? Did he love her?
Both twins rappelled down. Rhydderch clasped Rhys by the hand, but couldn’t speak. Rhun bound Rhys’s ribs while Rhydderch looked at his legs.
“Rhys, your right leg is broken, and badly. I’ll bind it to this splint. It will be painful. Your left ankle is swollen and looks to be badly sprained, but not broken.”
Rhun offered a rolled up wad of cloth, his face full of concern. “Bite on this.” He grasped his brother’s hand while Rhydderch applied the splint. Rhys screwed his eyes tight shut and bit down hard on the wad.
“Rest now a while,” Rhun said. “You’re exhausted.” Rhys was sweating and feeling very light headed. He prayed he wouldn’t retch. It might kill him. If only he could stop shaking.
“Gather your strength for the most difficult part next,” Rhun said. “I’ll sit in front of you and Rhydderch will bind us together. Clasp your hands around my neck—it will take some of the weight off your ribs as we ascend.”
“I’m too heavy,” Rhys rasped. Could he remain awake through the next part of the ordeal? Waves of pain radiated through him as Rhun used the brute strength in his powerful body to carry the dead weight of his injured brother to safety. Rock and dirt rained down on them from the edge. Many hands waited to take Rhys and lay him on the ground when they made it to the top.
Rhydderch reappeared beside them. “I’ve looked Baudoin over as Mother taught us. He’s still not awake, but I can’t detect any broken bones. If I carry him up over my shoulder we could risk further injury to something that may be damaged inside. Or we could fashion some kind of conveyance to fasten him to and lift him.”
“Conveyance,” Rhys said hoarsely as blackness engulfed him.
***
Rhys woke to the sound of Rhun’s voice. “Drink this. It’s one of mother’s herbals. It will ease your pain.”
Rhys had never experienced such pain. His body was on fire. A sharp-toothed creature gnawed his legs and torso. Someone had made a campfire. Baudoin lay beside him on a contraption made of tree limbs and blankets. His face was scratched and bruised.