“You win the hearts of my people with natural ease.” Gareth leaned down and whispered in Tanon’s ear. He was pleased, but not surprised. She’d won the affection of his men easily enough, as was evident when they finally reached his blanket. Every trencher was decorated with a sprig of heather.
Before sitting down, she embraced Rebecca as if she hadn’t seen her nurse in years, and then thanked Adara for her gown with a kiss to the cheek.
“Oh, Cian,” she cooed over the youngest member of Gareth’sTeuluwhen she noticed the carefully arranged trenchers. “You’re going to make a very fortunate lady quite happy someday.”
Gareth shook his head at the poor condition of such a fearless warrior when Cian sighed like a love-struck squire.
“Madoc helped me gather the heather before you joined us tonight,” Cian advised her while she sat.
Lifting a curious brow, Gareth looked across the glen at his best friend, astonished at what he’d just heard.
“Well,hiswife, whenever he finds one, will need a bit more resolve than yours.” Tanon pulled her slippers off when she noticed that no one was wearing any footwear. “But I told you all that Madoc was sweet.”
“As sweet as sour goat’s milk,” Tomas interjected while he poured Tanon a drink of blended ale, honey, and spices.
“It’s calledBragawd.” Gareth told her, sitting beside her. He laughed softly when she tried to repeat the word. “Don’t drink too much,” he added with a lecherous wink that reminded her why she shouldn’t.
“Tell me”—Tanon lifted the cup to her mouth, tasted the drink and sighed at its heavenly flavor—”
“Is it a Welsh custom to go barefoot?”
“Most of my people couldn’t afford leather for many years,” Gareth explained. “They went barefoot because they had to. Now we choose to forego our footwear for a better grip on the ground. Bare feet provide better balance.”
Tanon propped her elbows on her bent knees while she listened to him. She loved his voice, his deep, lyrical accent.
“You’re one of us now,” he continued, giving her a meaningful smile. “We don’t call ourselves Welsh. We areCymry.”
“Cymry,” she echoed and crinkled her nose at him when he nodded. “Teach me more of your words.”
He looked up as Madoc approached. “Noswaith dda,Madoc.”
“Noswaith dda.” His first in command nodded at him then nodded his head to Tanon next. “My lady.”
“They bid each other good evening,” Cian told her, leaning in close. “I could teach you to speakCymraegwhile Gareth visits his uncle, the king.”
Tanon turned to her husband and tugged on his tunic while he spoke to Madoc. “You’re going away?”
“Aye, I must meet with my uncle in Llandeilo.”
“When?”
“In a few days.” He dipped his head to hers. “You’ll be well cared for while I’m gone,” he promised quietly. “Ioan will watch over you, as will Hereward. You’ll be safe.”
“I know.” She drew her lower lip between her teeth, then looked away when understanding settled over his features.
He leaned closer, dragging his lips across her temple while he spoke. “Will you miss me then?”
“Oui,”she relinquished.
He withdrew to look into her eyes. “I’ll make haste with my uncle.”
She smiled, feeling a cascade of warmth flow through her.
“Allow me a toast,” Madoc requested, pulling their attention to him. He held his cup aloft when Gareth nodded.
“Hear me!” Madoc’s strong voice carried over the gathering and soon everyone turned to listen. “Tonight we give thanks for many things. Our prince has returned to us!” A round of cheers arose but Madoc held up his palm after a moment to quiet them. “With him comes the promise of the Norman king. Her name is Peace…beauty, bravery.” His eyes fell on Tanon briefly before he raised his gaze back to the crowd. “May Peace find her way among us and be cherished by us all. ForCymru!”
“ForCymru!” The people cheered.