A Gift Of Sanctuary

EPILOGUE

April’s rains relented for a day and Dafydd, Brother Dyfrig, Cadwal and Madog at last prepared to depart St David’s.

In the courtyard of the bishop’s palace, Father Edern blessed their journey and Tangwystl held a stirrup cup to Dafydd.

‘My husband’s saviour. You shall ever be in my prayers, Master Dafydd.’ Her smile lit the heavens.

‘Be joyous in your lovemaking, my lady,’ Dafydd said, wishing she might nestle in his bed. But alas, he must be satisfied with the kiss with which she had thanked him for Rhys’s life. And was that not sufficient to give him happy dreams for many a night?

‘You look far too gladsome,’ Brother Dyfrig noted as they led their horses through Bonning’s Gate. ‘I grant you suffered only singed hair. But what of my arm? And poor Brother Samson — will he ever be clear in his wits?’

‘Was he ever?’ Dafydd laughed. ‘It was worth all the suffering, my friend. I feel alive, refreshed, blessed and fulfilled.’

‘Rhys might have found his way to St David’s had you left him on the sands.’

‘He would have been dragged to Cydweli by those barbarians. I do not doubt I saved his life.’

‘Tangwystl speaks true, I think. She will keep you in her prayers.’

‘And I shall keep the memory of her sweet lips, her wondrous scent.’

‘Will you write a poem about her?’

‘I wrote one long ago, though I did not know it.’

And as they rode off, Dafydd sang: