January snows and spring thaws caused a lot of delays to the
tower building and Gwilym became concerned that he had given the men so much
good building time off around Christmas. The men were in high spirits, however,
and they pushed through each delay. Gwilym was able to use the extra money
earned from selling the mosaic to buy the supplies and extra manpower he needed
to push through the delays. Fred left two weeks before his child was due.
As Beltane approached, Gwilym spent some of his spare time
scouring the countryside for the capstone for this tower. He knew that it would
be placed so that the design pointed back to Huish. But where was it? In Huish
it had appeared next to the tower through the use of some magic. He suspected
Merlin. At Airmyn it was lying under all the supplies as if it had been
purchased for the job. In Londinium, the capstone was already in place and just
had to be removed and replaced on the rebuilt tower. And in Caernarfon he had
sat on it after capturing the prince. What was the pattern?
He knew there was magic involved. His hair had stood on end
at the appearance of the first stone. He recognized that he needed to leave
this activity to Merlin and Grainne to accomplish, even though he had taken
responsibility for it on the Network Diagram.
Two days before Beltane and all was ready but the cap-stone.
The crew all gathered around Gwilym looking expectant. They had cleaned every
last part of the tower and grounds, built the road and tidied up the remains of
the palace. Gwilym could think of nothing else to keep them busy. Tollemache
asked the obvious question. “Vere is de capstone, Gvilym?”
“The capstone is being delivered by two friends of mine who
will arrive in the next two days. When it comes, we will gather together, pull
it into place and the tower will be finished. Until then, you are all on Holiday !”
The men cheered and ran to the tavern. “But stay close so I
can call you when the stone arrives!” Gwilym shouted.
Gwilym found himself walking down the road heading to the
south, the direction from which he expected Merlin and Grainne to come. He was surprised
to find his excitement rising. He tried to tell himself it was because he was
nervous about the stone but he knew, deep in his heart, that he missed Grainne.
She had infuriated him at their last meeting, calling on the Goddess to make
him venerate her. Yet he missed her and found he could forgive her this act.
He felt a strange aching on the inside of his arms. The last
time he had felt this was when he had realized he had fallen in love with
Kaitlyn. The only thing that removed that ache was to hold her in his arms, her
body fitting against that place in his arms. This time he felt it in his chest
also, an emptiness where Grainne belonged.
But how can that be? I
hardly know her. This relationship was completely upside down. Their meetings
had been all in the wrong order. The first time she was the mother, had nursed
me back to health while I lay unconscious. The second time she was the
death-crone, telling me about my dead wife. Then she was the maiden, seducing
me on the rune capstone of the first tower. The same thing happened again at
Airmyn and Londinium although I managed to snatch a brief conversation with
her: a conversation that turned into a serious religious argument. Then she had
saved my children’s lives when I needed her the most. Then another sexual
encounter on a capstone. What kind of a basis was this for love?
He compared this to his first love, Kaitlyn. He had seen her
first walking through the warrens of Jerusalem
in a group of foreigners. He had been captured by her dark looks, her haunted
eyes and then, that smile. All the people surrounding her reacted to her smile.
Gwilym saw that they all loved her. They were old and young, man and woman, but
they all were drawn to her like bees to the honey cakes in the market. Gwilym
followed the group, tying to see more of her.
Following close enough to hear their words, he recognized
some Cambrian words his father had taught him when he was a boy. Gwilym’s
mother was Cambrian. Short and dark, with milky white skin and full red lips.
Gwilym had asked his father why he had left his mother. And one night, Willem
had told his son everything he would ever say about her. “I met her in Glastonbury , on my search
for Joseph’s Gospel. You were a child of the Beltane fires. While she loved
you, her duties meant that she had to foster you out. She sent you to me.”
Gwilym had imagined his mother since then but this was the
first time he had seen someone whose looks fit his image. Of course, this girl
was too young, younger than Gwilym, even. But she had captured his heart in an
instant with that smile and he had to talk with her.
He offered his assistance to the group, telling them he
spoke their language and knew all the Holy Sites. He was careful to address the
oldest man in the group but he watched Kaitlyn out of the corner of his eye. On
seeing him, she shrunk back and covered her mouth, not quickly enough to stifle
the slight scream. Gwilym was astonished and looked back at the leader of this
group for an explanation.
“It’s not your fault, son,” he said in the lilting style of
the Cambrian. “She fears you because you look like the men who plundered her
town and murdered her family.”
Gwilym’s heart had sunk at this, seeing the fear he had
caused and regretting the consternation he had put on her face. He regretted
most of all the loss of that smile. He pointed the leader in the direction of
the Temple wall, bowed his head and walked off. But he could not forget her so
he followed the group at a discrete distance.
He made a fool of himself for the next three days, walking
past the group for a brief glimpse of her, then circling through the back
streets at a run to walk past them again. He would wander past them as they
toured the mount of Calvary, the Garden
of Gethsemene
On the third day a miracle happened. They were walking by
the tomb from which Jesus had been raised and he was making his third pass by
the group. Kaitlyn reached out her hand and stopped him. “I’m not scared of you
anymore. You can stop running past me. Tell me your name.”
They talked then, and Gwilym showed the group around the
city, to the places he loved, the honest traders, the secret pools and gardens,
the tall towers and cool churches. He used the knowledge his father had given
him to have them walk in Jesus’ footsteps, from His teaching in the temple to
His triumphant entrance to His crucifixion. He knew his craft well, having done
it many times in the past for money. This time he refused all payment.
They told him that they were going from here to see the rest
of the Holy Sites and Gwilym offered to accompany them as their guide. They agreed
and he toured with them for three months, from the Cedars of Lebanon to the
Pyramids of Egypt. Along the way he learned all about the beautiful Kaitlyn’s
tragic story.
She had been hiding in the forest with the children, old men
and women when Saxon warriors had attacked their village. She had climbed a
tree and watched as they defeated the men and looted the town. Then a group had
charged the forest and overtook the frightened villagers. She had watched from
above in mute terror as her mother and sister were raped and carried off. Her
brother was slain before her eyes. She thanked God that they hadn’t looked up
and she vowed a pilgrimage to the Holy Land to
pray for her family and villager’s souls and to thank Him for her safety. She
had joined this group of pilgrims and had walked here the whole way from
Cambria.
She was 16 and not romantically attached to any of the men
in her party. It was clear to Gwilym that they were all in love with her. While
they were happy with his guidance through the Holy Land, once they realized
that he was making progress with Kaitlyn, they tried to get rid of him. But
Gwilym was resourceful and used his connections to remain valuable to the group
and his charm to cause Kaitlyn to beg the others that he remain their guide.
When the pilgrims had seen everything, they made plans to
return to Cambria. On the night before they were all to leave Gwilym expressed
his love to Kaitlyn and received a short laugh in reply. This broke his heart
but she had squeezed his arm and told him, “I’m laughing because I’m nervous. I
think you are wonderful but I don’t love you. You barely know me and I don’t
know you. You say you love me. Men say that to me all the time. Is it because
they all want to get under my skirts?”
“Kaitlyn, believe me, when men say that to you, it’s true.
I’ve never seen a woman who inspires so much good in the men who meet her.
Plenty of women inspire men to want to get inside their skirts; that’s no great
talent. You inspire them to want to marry you, to be with them until they’re
old, to bear children for them. You have something special, Kaitlyn, something
the Visigoths call ‘Gracia,’ something I’ve read about, but never seen. I love
you, and want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to protect you from
all harm, to have children with you and raise them well, to grow old with you,
and to protect you from the fears of old age. I want to build you a strong
house that will keep you warm and comfortable. I want to read to you and play
with you and travel with you.”
“Gwilym.” Kaitlyn wept softly and pointed at the statues
surrounding them. “You have me up on a pedestal like one of these statues. What
will happen if you marry me and find out that I am a mere mortal who cannot
live up to your ideal image of me? What will happen when I fart in your
hearing?”
Gwilym burst out laughing at this unexpected comment, the
gas that he had been holding in during this long day with her releasing with a
loud BRAPP! She looked at him with wide eyes and open mouth and laughed too.
Looking at each other, they lost all control and their laughter increased. Then
Gwilym thought he heard a little fart from her and he stopped in surprise. She
blushed red and held her breath, waiting for Gwilym’s reaction. He hugged her
then for the first time and lifted her off her feet. This contact was new and
unexpected and combined with the release of tension and the tight squeeze she
received released another, louder, fart and they both burst out laughing again.
“Well, I guess now you know how I’ll react. I love you Kaitlyn.”
On telling this story to his sons he had gotten different
reactions. Llawen had laughed at the image but Jac had seemed confused at the
laughter. He held an idealized image of his mother in his mind and couldn’t
understand why Llawen and his father found it so funny that: “All you two did
was laugh and fart.”
What Jac missed was that it was a tender moment, when
barriers broke down and they saw the humanity in each other and decided that
they would get to know each other better. Kaitlyn stayed behind, much to the
consternation of the rest of the group. She had money and was able to stay in a
pilgrim’s inn so they needn’t worry about her chastity. The two spent the next
few months learning all about each other. The romance blossomed. Gwilym worked
as a tour guide for different groups of pilgrims, amazing her with his grasp of
different tongues and his in-depth knowledge of the life of Jesus and the
prophets.
On agreeing to marry, he asked her where, expecting that she
wanted to return home. But she had no family there so they married in Cana for the sake of the name. They toured Constantinople for their honeymoon and she soon became
pregnant with Bleddyn. Then she wanted to return to Cambria so they continued
back along the pilgrim trail, arriving a couple of months before the birth.
No comments:
Post a Comment