"Has she become a whore then?" the abbess demanded.
"I am no man's whore!" Rhonwyn said angrily.
"Nay, nay, that is not it, sister!" ap Gruffydd replied. "She is ignorant, totally ignorant. Morgan and his men loved my children and protected them, but they could teach them only what they knew. My daughter has a knack for war and weapons. She is, it seems, a worthy successor to me. My son prefers to compose songs and poetry, and has no talent for a warrior's pursuits at all. He's only fit to be a bard or a priest. You must teach Rhonwyn how to be what she is meant to be. A lass, not a lad. How can I give her in marriage when she doesn't even know what marriage is? She must be taught the Norman tongue, for as you see she speaks only our language. She needs to learn how to wear skirts, not chausses and braies. She must be a Christian, sister, yet she has no idea of religion or faith. She says moon cycles, not months. I don't even know if she has her woman's flow yet. You must gentle her, Gwynllian, so that in a month's time I may take her to Edward de Beaulieu, at Haven's Castle, to be wed."
The abbess laughed aloud. "A month's time? You are mad, Llywelyn! It will take more than a month to tame this bedraggled, fierce-eyed wildcat you have brought me. If indeed I can do it at all. If she does not cooperate, then you are out of luck, brother. How could you promise a daughter you had not seen in ten years to an English treaty marriage? What in the name of all that is holy were you thinking? Were you thinking at all?"
"Then what the hell am I to do, Gwyn?" he asked her, running a big hand through his dark hair.
The abbess turned to Rhonwyn. "Do you understand any of this, my child?"
"Aye, I do," Rhonwyn said. "My lord has explained to me that a marriage is a formal and respectable union between a man and a woman. It is honorable. It is my obligation to my lord to take part in this marriage. I know how to do my duty."
"Well," the abbess remarked to her brother, "she may have little learning, but she is, I believe, intelligent." She turned to her niece. "You are willing to be married to Edward de Beaulieu?"
"Is there a choice in the matter?" Rhonwyn said.
"Nay, there is not," the abbess told her.
"Then I am willing, and will do my duty" came the cool reply..
"You have much to learn, my child," the abbess said.
"Then teach me," Rhonwyn answered.
The abbess turned to her brother. "Tell Edward de Beaulieu that his bride is finishing her education at Mercy Abbey and will leave here in early April for Haven Castle. A messenger will arrive before her to announce her coming, but she will be there before midmonth. He may prepare for the marriage ceremony then, and you will bring your daughter to him yourself. It is unlikely your future son-in-law will object to this arrangement. He may have some small pursuits and matters to clear up before a bride can come to him." She smiled suddenly at him. "This favor will cost you dearly, Llywelyn."
"I know," he responded wearily.
She chuckled. "I shall make a list of my demands, none of which are negotiable, brother."
He nodded. "Whatever you want, Gwyn," he said.
The abbess turned again to her niece. "Your first lesson, my child, is in how to address me. When I speak to you, you will conclude your answer with the words my lady abbess. Do you understand, Rhonwyn?"
"Aye, my lady abbess" came the reply.
The nun smiled. "Excellent!"
I like her, Rhonwyn thought to herself. She understands me as no one ever has understood me.
The abbess reached out, picked up a small bell on the table and rang it. Almost immediately another woman, dressed in the same fashion, entered the room.
"Yes, my lady abbess?"
"This is my niece, Sister Catrin. She will be staying with us for the next few months, preparing for her marriage to the lord of Haven Castle. She is a true innocent, raised in an isolated place by a group of pagans. Give her a chamber in the guest house. Rhonwyn, you will stay there until I send for you. Bid your father farewell now, my child.
Rhonwyn turned to the prince and bowed politely. "My lord."
"I shall return for you in the spring," he said.
Rhonwyn laughed wickedly. "Will you, my lord? I certainly hope so."
The abbess's lips twitched with amusement as she saw the color flood her brother's face.
"This is different, Rhonwyn," he told her through gritted teeth. "This is a matter of my honor."
Rhonwyn nodded her head slightly in acknowledgment, and then followed Sister Catrin from the abbess's receiving chamber.
"She has your temper," Gwynllian remarked, amused.
"I hope you will find it as humorous when you must deal with her," he shot back. "Now write your damned list of demands, sister."
"On reflection I realize it is not necessary to write a list. I can tell you exactly what I want. First, you will pay the expenses for your daughter's schooling. We are not a rich house. You will go to Hereford and purchase a generous supply of fine materials so we may garb her properly for her marriage and subsequent life. You will take a pattern of her feet and have proper shoes made for her. You will purchase veils, gloves, a good jeweled girdle, as well as some small but fine pieces of jewelry. She is your daughter, Llywelyn, and if you are the prince of Wales, then the lady Rhonwyn is a noblewoman of the first ranking.
"And while you are in Hereford, you will go to the Convent of Saint Mary, on the east side of the town. They are a very small house and always in great financial distress, I am informed. They possess a saint's relic that 1 want, brother, for this abbey. It is a fingernail paring from St. Cuthbert himself and is kept in a bejeweled golden box on the altar in their church. Pay what you must, but bring me that relic, Llywelyn."
"You want me to go into England and negotiate for a saint's relic with a nun? Before or after I purchase lovely fabrics, fine pieces of jewelry, and the other geegaws you desire for my daughter?" he snapped. "Name your price, Gwynllian, and I will pay it, but I will not go myself! I have much work to do keeping the peace."
"You will have no peace, brother, if you do not deliver your daughter to be wed to the Englishman; and you cannot bring her to them as she is. They would refuse her, and say you had insulted them and compromised the treaty. We are not so isolated here that I do not know Prince Edward will prove a dangerous enemy to you once he is king. I told you there would be no negotiation between us in this matter. Rhonwyn may remain here while you go and bargain for my relic, O prince of Wales. When you return with it, I will begin her tutelage, but not a moment before then." She drew herself up to her full height and stared directly at him. "The longer you delay, Llywelyn, the less time I have to turn this mutton you have brought me into a sweet little lambkin."
"You are the damnedest woman," he complained to her. "You always were impossible, Gwyn, and I suspect that Rhonwyn is just like you." He laughed. "Very well, I will go myself and dicker for your saint's discarded fingernail. If necessary," he told her darkly, "I will steal it, but you shall have it, sister, and then you must keep your part of our bargain."
"Do not steal it, Llywelyn," she warned him sternly. "If you do, I cannot display it. I am not capricious in my desire for this relic. I would draw pilgrims to Mercy Abbey to ask the saint's blessing. Such a relic will prove profitable to us."
"It did not to St. Mary's in Hereford," he remarked.
"That is because they could claim no great miracles of it," the abbess replied with a small smile. "I am certain the saint's fingernail paring will be more content with us and work to the glory of God and Mercy Abbey, brother. In fact, I sense it in my heart."