Chapter Five. Salthouse
Gwilym and his boys
left two days after Fred, timing their arrival in Huish for the morning of the
wedding. The twins were full of questions.
“Can I dress in
my bishop’s clothes?”
“And me as a
knight?”
“Will we see
Heulwen there, too?”
“Which was my
milk mother? Heilin or Heulwen?”
“What’s the name
of my milk sister?”
“Will we marry
our milk sisters one day?”
Gwilym laughed
and hugged his boys tight against him.
Then Jac asked,
“Why can’t we stay in Huish?”
Gwilym’s smile
faded, replaced with a frown of concern. “We need to stay out of sight of that
knight, Palomides.”
“But Da,” asked
Jac. “I thought you said he couldn’t see us for five years?”
“Only if we stay
out of his way. He has spies in Huish, looking for us.”
They spent the
evening before the wedding in Brycgstow
and left before dawn. They arrived at Fred’s family home in the lake country east
of Huish two hours before the wedding was scheduled to begin. Descending to the
shores of the lake, they saw thatch roofs scattered randomly round below them,
some on the water, others a distance from the shore. Jac and Llawen looked at
their father with questioning faces. He told them to be patient and they’d see
for themselves how this worked.
As they drew closer to the level of the
lake, they saw that the houses were all round wicker-walled homes raised high
on stilts. Those whose roofs were above the water had wooden ramps leading to
the shore. Stone paths led between the homes. Jac walked deliberately
underneath one to inspect its underside. It was woven wicker like the underside
of a chair.
“What do they do here, Da?” asked Llawen.
“They can’t farm the marsh.”
“I expect they fish the lake,” he replied.
“There’s plenty of food in the water.”
“Why are their houses up on poles, Da?”
asked Jac.
“This lake rises and falls depending on the
rain and sun. The stilts let the houses stay dry.”
Gwilym led them to one house standing above
the dry land. One of the poles had curved rungs nailed to it made of antlers.
The pole looked like the backbone of a fish. Fred scrambled down this ladder, wearing
a new set of clothes. He greeted them with smiles and hugs “We will ride to th’church
in a few minutes. Tha will stay by my side, right, Gwilym?”
“We’ll be with you the whole time.”
“You’re marrying
my milk mother, Fred,” said Llawen with a serious expression. “Are you Iola’s
father now?”
Fred kneeled
down to meet Llawen’s eye. “In a couple of hours, lad. And I will take very
good care of your sister.”
“Can we dress up
in the clothes given us by the king for your wedding, Fred?” asked Llawen.
Fred put his arm
around the boy. “I’d love to see you all dressed up, lad. But maybe only wear th’robe
and not all th’fancy stuff like th’hat and stole and staff. Th’priest might get
confused and expect you to perform th’wedding.”
“I could do it!
I know the prayers and everything.”
Fred gave Llawen
a serious look. “I’m sure you would do a great job, Llawen. But Heilin wants a
legal marriage. For that we need a priest who has taken his vows.”
A few of the
lake folk and most of the town attended the wedding. Gwilym stood up front with
Fred, facing people Gwilym assumed must be Fred’s family. They were short and
dark like him.
Haern brought
Heilin up the aisle to Fred and the ceremony began. She was wearing a new dress
and her hair was newly washed and decorated with flowers. The smile she wore
today showed a level of deep contentment on top of her usual good humor.
Few of the lake
people participated in the Mass and even fewer took communion. After the priest
pronounced Fred and Heilin man and wife, Fred presented her with a shiny new
short-sword. Heilin took a cup of mead from her mother and said, “Fred, take
this cup.” Fred looked deep into his new wife’s eyes as he drank from the cup,
the villagers cheered and they all went outside where the feast was spread.
Gwilym noticed the look of disapproval on the priest’s face at this use of old
customs and was happy he said nothing, probably because he was still new to
this parish. Too bad Father Drew was gone.
He had been inclusive of the old ways.
The feast was
held outside Haern’s smithy where boards set up on trestles groaned with a
quantity of food and drink. Fred introduced Gwilym to his father, who looked
just like an older version of Fred. There was no mention of his mother and
Gwilym didn’t like to pry so he continued meeting the rest of his relatives and
neighbors from the marshlands. There were ten times as many lake people at the
celebration than had attended the ceremony. What
religion do they practice on the lake?
Bleddyn
presented the couple with a wedding gift that he had carved. It was a perfect
miniature rendition of the Huish tower. Fred was speechless and tears came to
his eyes. Jac spoke up. “We carved our names in the sides, see?” Fred looked
over the sides, seeing a name carved in each of three sides. In the fourth side
were carved Fred’s and Heilin’s names with the wedding date and place. Heilin
oohed and aahed over it and pronounced it the best piece of carpentry she had
ever seen. Fred found his voice. “Tha have a talent, Bleddyn. A God-given
talent! Use it well. I love th’gift. I will treasure it always.” He hugged all
three boys.
Gwilym stepped
up with his gift: A bound book with a set of fine quills and ink. Fred’s eyes
grew wide and he opened the book. He looked up in surprise when he found it
empty. “To write down your song, or practice your writing, or keep a journal,
or whatever you want. Your life now is an open book, Fred. Fill it up for your
children.”
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