They left her. Rhonwyn sighed. She had cut her hair so that it now bobbed at the level of her chin. Hopefully it would grow quickly, and by the time Edward returned home it would be a respectable length once again. Rhonwyn stripped naked, and finding the pitcher of black dye behind the larger pitcher, she poured it into the basin, mixing it with a tiny bit of water, and then dipped her head, her fingers moving rapidly through her scalp to completely cover her tresses. She then rinsed her hair with clear water and hoped the transformation was complete, for she had no glass or metal mirror in which to check her efforts. She quickly began rubbing the brownish dye from the larger pitcher into her skin. When only her shoulders and back remained white, she called out, and almost immediately a young girl entered the chamber.

"Here, lady, let me finish the task you have begun so well." She took the rag and began smoothing the dye down Rhonwyn's back and across her shoulders.

It took a moment to sink in, but Rhonwyn suddenly realized that the girl was speaking in the Norman tongue. It had been many months since she had heard it, and she wondered if she could still speak it herself. She and Fulk had spoken together in Arabic, and her brother and Oth had spoken in the language of the Welsh. The words, however, came easily when she tried. "You speak the tongue of the Franks," she said.

"My father-this is his house in which you are now standing-is a merchant. I am his only child and help him in his business. Sometimes I even travel to Carthage. I speak several languages."

"You speak well," Rhonwyn noted, and then said nothing more.

When the dye covered her skin completely and had dried, she dressed. The merchant's daughter had departed the chamber with all the evidence of Rhonwyn's disguise. She was pulling on her boots when her brother entered and looked her over with a critical eye.

"You've bound up your breasts?" he asked.

She nodded and stood up for his final inspection.

"Have you found the secret pocket in your cape?" he asked her.

"There are actually two," she told him, "and both are well hidden and well filled. 1 will keep my cape with me at all times."

"Good! Now, here is our story. I am the minstrel and entertainer. You are my brother and one of my musicians, along with Oth and Dewi."

"What instrument do I play?" she teased him.

"The tambourine," he said seriously. "That way if we must perform, you cannot make any error. Any fool can play the tambourine."

"Thank you," Rhonwyn said dryly.

"We are ready to go," he told her.

"You have become so serious, Glynn," she said to him.

"We are not yet out of Cinnebar, sister. I will not rest until our feet are once again on good Christian soil, nor should you," he explained. "I am angry that Edward de Beaulieu gave you up so easily. He looked for you for only several days before following Prince Edward to Acre. I told him you were alive! I felt it! But none of them would listen to me, Rhonwyn. Now it is my duty to return you to Haven Castle and to your husband. I will do what that fine knight of yours could not. I will bring you home!"

Her eyes filled with tears. "You are a man," she said softly.

"Aye," he agreed. "Now, sister, let us go. Do you know what today is? It is the eve of Christ's Mass. With luck I shall have us home by Midsummer's Eve, possibly before. Come now!"

They traveled by caravan to the coast, taking a ship from Tunis to the port of Cagliari on the island of Sardinia. After several weeks in Sardinia they found a vessel that was sailing for Aigues-Mortes, in the kingdom of Languedoc. As it was winter the seas farther north were not safe, and so they decided to travel overland to Calais, crossing over into England from there. They purchased horses in Aigues-Mortes. The beasts were serviceable, but not so fine that they would be stolen by any except the most desperate. Glynn also purchased a sword for his sister and a dagger as well.

Their Arabic garb was bartered for the more conventional clothing of the region. Rhonwyn exchanged her pantaloons and vest for chausses and a tunic that came to her calf. She retained her sherte, her cloak, and her boots. The roads were never really safe, and so they traveled with various trains, paying their way with their songs. It took many weeks to reach the French coast.

In the month of May, however, they finally arrived at Calais. There was no difficulty in obtaining passage aboard a vessel crossing the channel. Selling their horses, they paid their passage, reaching Dover on the following day. There they once again purchased mounts for their journey north and west across England to Haven Castle, traveling still in their guise as musicians. In Worcester Rhonwyn sent her brother into the market to see if he could find a fine gown. Even he understood that she could not arrive at Haven with her skin brown and in chausses. The dye had long since worn off her hair, and her tresses were growing, having reached her shoulders once again.

The walnut juice that had stained her skin had faded during their weeks on the road, but Rhonwyn's skin still had a sallow look about it. The night before they reached Haven they stopped to camp by a stream, and Rhonwyn bathed for the first time in weeks, scrubbing her skin with a rag and a small piece of soap she had had Glynn purchase along with the gown. While she was aware hot water would have done a better job, Rhonwyn was satisfied with the results. Besides, tomorrow at Haven she would have her hot bath.

In the morning she dressed herself in her gown of deep blue velvet and the overgown of a lighter blue silk with open side lacing and a center split. There was a twisted blue silk rope girdle about her waist, and she wore a simple white veil with a small circlet that matched her girdle. Before they even came in sight of Haven, Glynn stopped their progress, saying, "I leave you here, sister. Oth and Dewi will escort you home."

"Why will you not come?" she asked him.

"Because Rafe de Beaulieu does not know my true identity, Rhonwyn. I told him I was going to France to contemplate the priesthood when I left the abbey school in Shrewsbury. I can hardly appear with you in tow and easily explain it away. Oth and Dewi will go with you. They will say your father sent them to see if they could find you, and they did. Where you have been is not anyone's business but Edward's. Answer no questions from any others."

"Where are you going?" Rhonwyn asked her brother.

"Nowhere. I will be here, and Oth and Dewi will keep me informed as to what is going on at Haven. There is a cave in the hillside in the woods that will shelter me. They know the way. Go now and reclaim Haven for yourself and your husband. If you need our tad's aid in ousting Rafe de Beaulieu, sister, I will ask him myself."

The guards at the portcullis gaped with surprise as Rhonwyn rode through and into the courtyard of the castle with her escort. She dismounted, and the first person she saw was Father John.

He paled and crossed himself. "Be you a ghost, lady?" he quavered.

"Nay, it is I, Rhonwyn, and I have at last come home," she answered him.

"God have mercy on us all," the priest said. "Lady, you must come with me, for I have much to tell you."

"In time, good father, in time," Rhonwyn said. "I want to go into the hall." She hurried into the castle, the priest running after her in despair. As she entered the hall she saw Enit and called to her. Looking up and seeing the mistress she believed dead, Enit screamed and fainted as the other servants familiar to Rhonwyn gasped with shock. "What is the matter with them?" Rhonwyn said, turning to the priest.

"Surely you know they all thought you dead. The lord sent a message to me and to his cousin when you disappeared. When he returned home from the Holy Land alone we believed it a truth, my lady."

"Edward is here? At Haven? When? Is he in our apartments?" Rhonwyn ran from the hall and up the winding staircase, the priest running after her once again.

"Lady, lady! Wait! There is something you must know!" His tone was so desperate that Rhonwyn stopped and turned to him.

"What must I know?" she said.

"Lord Edward is married," Father John told her.

"I know. He is my husband," Rhonwyn said.

"Nay, lady. He is Lady Katherine's husband," the priest replied.

"How can he be wed to Katherine when he is wed to me?" she demanded angrily. Her heart was hammering furiously.

"You were believed dead, my lady Rhonwyn." The priest led her back into the hall.

"He hardly mourned me, did he?" she said bitterly.

"You could not be found. There was no trace of you at all. What else could he think? Everyone said you were dead. He finally joined the prince at Acre, but he had never really recovered from his illness. Prince Edward sent the lord home last summer. At the lord's request both the church and the courts declared you dead, leaving Edward de Beaulieu free to remarry, which he did last September. He is not a boy, my lady. He needed a wife to give him an heir."

"Father, I am told we have a visitor." Katherine de Beaulieu came into the hall.

"Indeed, lady," Rhonwyn said, turning to face her rival. Then she gasped with complete shock. Katherine's belly was so distended that it was more than obvious she was with child. A child that would be shortly born. Rhonwyn's hand went to her mouth to stifle her cry of pain.

"Oh, God!" Katherine whispered, her own hand going protectively to her belly. "They said you were dead."

"Perhaps it were better that I was," Rhonwyn replied harshly.

At that moment both Edward and Rafe de Beaulieu ran into the hall. Edward rushed to Katherine's side, his arm going about her protectively. His eyes blazed angrily.