‘Be gone, Norman tyrants!’ She shouted as she chased them, making the others squeal and laugh as they darted this way and that. Bronwen stopped in front of Gwen. ‘My lady, will you give your hand to this brave warrior?’ the child demanded, the helmet descending to all but cover her eyes.
‘Why yes, kind sir,’ said Gwen, bowing low. ‘It would be an honour. But, wait, have you no horse?’
‘Alas no, it was stolen away and eaten by wild men from the hills!’
‘Then you shall have another!’ Gwen announced. She grabbed the giggling child and swung her up onto her own back. ‘Hold fast, brave sir!’ she told her. Together they galloped after the children, Brownwen brandishing her stick, Gwen whinnying when she could stop laughing long enough to do so.
‘Gwen!’ Grandmother Williams’ voice reached her even through the hubbub. ‘For shame,merch! There are serious matters to heed. Come!’ she said, turning to march into the barn.
Gwen stopped. With a sigh she helped Bronwen to the ground, pausing to lean down, remove the heavy helmet, and kiss her brow. ‘Go to your father, now,’ she told her. ‘We will have our game another time.’
Inside the barn people had made use of every bit of space in order to accommodate the whole community. A small fire had been lit against the cold. Its smoke rose to the ceiling and then hung there as a skein of cloud, thickening and descending slowly. With so many people crammed into the byre, the air was pungent, myriad smells mingling with the smoke for an uncomfortable experience. Within moments it was difficult to see from one side of the room to the other. As Gwen took her place beside Mamgi she looked at the men, women and children who had become her family. The year they had spent at Blaencwm, after the losses and difficulties they had shared, had brought them all closer together, but time and adversity had taken their toll. The adults had aged, and some of the elders felt the harshness of their new lives, with extra stiffness in their joints and rattling coughs. The children too, when caught unawares and in repose, had a weariness about them that spoke of sadness in their pasts.
At last everyone was present. Owain pulled closed the heavy doors, shutting out the cold but also the daylight, save for that which fell through the narrow highopenings in the walls. Two fat lamps were lit, their meaty odour quickly filling the cramped space, adding to the unpleasant fug.
It was Dafydd who was first to speak.
‘We are come here to decide whether or no the time has come to go to Talgar. There are those who think we cannot withstand a second winter if we do not buy grain and other supplies. If we do not replenish our stores. And some think we needs must discover who now rules Brycheiniog, and who is to be the new Lord of Cwmdu. Who would have their say?’
Brynach, one of Lord Llewelyn’s soldiers, stood up. ‘I say we go. I tire of hiding like a frightened rabbit.’
There were murmurs of agreement.
Mamgi responded. ‘A rabbit has good sense enough to stay out of reach of the fox.’
Brynach shook his head. ‘We know not that there is a fox! It may be that one of our allies now has hold over the region. We would be foolish to linger in this wilderness when the danger has passed.’
One of the villagers put in. ‘We might be able to return to our homes.’
At this several people nodded and there were excited whispers.
Gwen stepped forward. ‘I too, long to return home. Even though,’ she added, smiling at Bronwen, ‘in truthI feel my heart belongs wherever those dear to me may be.’ There were nods and smiles at this. ‘But, more than the village itself, I believe we do need to go to Talgar because I think Brynach is right; we have to know. If it transpires it is yet not safe for us to descend from the mountain, then we will face another winter here. And if that is the case then again, he is right, we must fill our stores, so that these coming months may not be as lean as was last year.’ There was a thoughtful silence at this as they recalled the hardship and hunger they had endured.
Mamgi spoke again. ‘Our first winter was a trial, it is true. But then the settlement was new, and we struggled to be ready. Now we are more established here. We need not suffer so. ’Tis better to wait longer. Patience will be rewarded, for the world may turn without us a little longer.’
Mair spoke in a nervous voice. ‘Yes, for if we send someone to the town, what if they are captured by our enemies? If we are discovered, none will be safe, for we cannot defend ourselves here. It is only secrecy holds us from harm.’
Seeing some of the children look alarmed at this Gwen spoke again. ‘Whoever would go would be certain not to give away the location of the settlement. I myself would go, and maybe two others, taking thecart, staying out of sight wherever possible, not speaking with any we do not trust, and only then to buy what we need. We would soon be able to see how the land lies.’
At this, Bryn ap Blaen, the man whom Mamgi had frightened into giving up his croft all those months ago, stepped out of the shadows. His voice was tinged with anger. ‘Why are we to listen to a grandmother and a girl? Who was it decreed these two should have the biggest say? Are we not men? Must we let these women hold the floor and push us this way and that as suits their wishes?’
There were some gasps of shock, with several of the women muttering against the shepherd, but two of the older boys and both the soldiers seemed to be in agreement with Bryn. There was a commotion as people began to argue, the mood of the company shifting to dissent and disagreement.
Mamgicould barely contain her fury. She pushed out of the crowd until she came to stand at the very centre of the room. She rapped her hazel stick upon the hard floor of the barn and raised her thin voice to be heard.
‘You are nothing!’ she shouted, pointing at Bryn, her hand trembling with the rage that had taken hold of her. ‘You are but a worm, and yet you think to challenge the one who saved you! All of you,’ she turned slowly,moving her hand to direct her words at everyone, ‘have benefited from the good grace of this girl. Have you such short memories? You are only living now because of her actions. From her courage in the village, risking her life to delay and wound the Norman Baron, to the very way our small crops have grown. Think you this place has weather of its own by chance? Why is it that the spring does not dry up in summer so you do not die parched? Or that the rain does not drown the tender plants that sustain us? That the terrible snow above and below on this same mountain chooses not to smother us?’
Mair asked, ‘Gwen has done all this? How can that be?’
Bryn gave a snort. ‘Again, we are told by an old woman to see a girl as our saviour. It is trickery, I tell you. I have seen Grandmother’s sly ways. It is wickedness, and not to be trusted!’
Now Mamgiturned back to the crofter. ‘The words your priest spoke you were ready to hear, yet you will not listen to goodness when it comes from a woman? Where is your priest now, Bryn ap Blaen?’
‘He is dead, as well you know.’
‘Aye, and where were you when his throat was opened by a Norman sword? Think you only men can prevail? All of you believe you know the daughter ofthe man who was your lord, but I tell you, you do not. She is not the child you watched play with puppies in the farmyard, or run with lambs in the meadow. She is of the purest bloodline among witches, and I call on you to acknowledge her for who she is!’
At the mention of the word ‘witch’ there was a collective intake of breath among the villagers. Gwen felt her pulse racing. She was certain Mamgi had gone too far and that they would not accept her. It was too big a step, too far for them to go to openly credit a witch with saving them.
