You could not trust her in the face of your people's condemnation of her because she was not of the Cymri, and therefore her credence was to be doubted; but even that the Fair Folk might forgive you had you remained true in your heart to her. You have not, Pwyll of Dyfed. Your love for Rhiannon has wavered as surely as your faith in her has wavered. Even knowing the great concessions my sister made for you, you left her helpless, unable to defend herself and caught between two worlds. For this, Pwyll of Dyfed, you will be punished."

Then Angharad, Queen of the Fair Folk, pronounced Pwyll's fate; a fate so severe it left all within the hall breathless and in awe of its subtlety. It was a harsh judgment. As the full meaning of it penetrated Pwyll's brain, his eyes widened with horror, even knowing as he resisted his punishment that he fully deserved it.

Then, before the astonished eyes of the assembled court of Dyfed, the hall began to fill with a silvery smoke. There was another monstrous thunderclap which immediately cleared the haze, revealing to all that Angharad and Rhiannon were no longer amongst them. Bronwyn of the White Breast whimpered, finally fearful, and piteously clutched at Pwyll's arm. Furiously he shook her off, and opening his mouth, he cried after his wife.

"Rhiannon! Rhiannon! Rhi-an-non!"

There was no answer, and as Pwyll's voice echoed and died within the Great Hall of Dyfed, a deep, sad silence descended upon all there.

PART 1

WYNNE OF GWERNACH
WALES, 1060
If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song. Kahlil Gibran The Prophet

Chapter 1

Wynne of Gwernach stared down at her father's grave. A month had passed since Owain ap Llywelyn had met his death in a freak accident.