danger. Can you do it, lass?”
The green eyes met his, and she said briefly, “I can.”
“Good girl,” he praised, and gave her a quick kiss atop her head, chuckling at the surprised look that encompassed her features. Then he arose. “I must go now. I am expected elsewhere this day, and while I may be late, I must get there.”
“Will you return?” Rhonwyn asked him.
He nodded.
“When?” she demanded.
“When the time is right, lass. You will be safe here at Cythraul. Morgan ap Owen is blood kin to your mam. He will guard you with his life. Promise me you will obey him, both of you.”
“Aye,” Rhonwyn said dispassionately.
“Aye, Tad!” little Glynn piped, eager to please his sire.
Ap Gruffydd lifted up the little boy and kissed him on both cheeks before setting him down again. Then he looked at his daughter. She met his gaze straight on, her look neither warm nor cold. “You haven't made up your mind about me yet, have you?” he gently teased.
Rhonwyn shrugged her narrow shoulders. “I don't really know you, but I am grateful you came yesterday, and I am grateful you have brought us to a place of safety. More than that I do not know, nor can I say, Llywelyn ap Gruffydd.”
He nodded. “You are my daughter and honest to a fault,” he told her. “Take care of the lad, Rhonwyn. I will be back.” Then ap Gruffydd turned and, in his captain's company, left the hall of the tower.
“Tad!” Glynn called after the retreating figure.
“He'll be back soon,” Rhonwyn comforted her brother. “Let us explore this place that is to be our new home, Glynnie-lad,” she coaxed him, turning his thoughts from ap Gruffydd. “It is a tall tower.”
When the day had finally waned, and the hall filled with the men-at-arms, the two children felt almost lost for a time, but then Morgan ap Owen set them up upon the high board and told his men, “These wee ones are of great importance to our lord Llywelyn. They are to be kept safe and not mistreated. I am going to appoint eight of you to be their particular guardians. Lug, Adda, Mabon, Nudd, Barris, Dewi, Cadam, and Oth. I choose you. Just make certain these two younglings don't fall off the walls.”
There was much good-natured grumbling among the eight, but they were all good men and secretly pleased to have been so honored. It didn't take an educated man to figure out that these were the lord's children, even if Morgan ap Owen hadn't quite said so. The lad had his stamp, and the girl, for all her fair hair, was obviously his.
“They're his, aren't they?” his lieutenant said to his captain.
“I have not said so” was the response; “Nor should you” came the veiled warning.
Rhonwyn listened to this exchange as she sat feeding her little brother. Their sire was obviously a very important man. After the meal the chosen men gathered about them like a pack of kindly, grizzled watchdogs. Rhonwyn was mostly silent, letting her little brother capture the men's hearts, for Glynn was, and always had been, a very winning child. When he began to grow sleepy, one of them, Oth, picked up the boy and tucked him in the bedspace.
“You had best go, too,” Oth told her.
“I am older,” Rhonwyn replied. Then she looked across the hall at several of the men who were kneeling on the floor. “What are they doing?” she asked Oth.
“Dicing,” he answered her. “It is a game.”
“I want to learn,” Rhonwyn said.
“Do you?” he answered with a chuckle. “I don't know if the captain would approve, lass.”
“Why not?” she demanded.
“ 'Tis a game of chance,” he explained.
“I don't understand, Oth,” she told him. “I am very ignorant of the world, you see, having lived all my life on the hill with my mam.”
He nodded. “I see,” he said. “Well, then, perhaps I shall teach you to dice myself, but not tonight. You have had several hard days, and you need your rest. I will wager you have never before today ridden. There is a small mare