"Refuge in Wales" Stories

---------------- ORIGINAL STORY FROM THE 1960s- ----------------

In one "alternate future" that I wrote on my own after losing track of Laura for a while, I had the Vikings invade Christenlande, driving the royal family and their hangers-on out of the kingdom.  They took refuge with Llewellyn ap Cador in Radnor and then petition for support from another kingdom.  .  The gay love affair of Samir and Roddy comes in here.  I think these stories are from about 1970-72.  There seem to be several missing.

Flight from Christenlande

The weather turned to rain and grey and miserable nearly the very moment the Christenlande party reached its frontiers. It was often difficult to tell the difference between the weather and the people along the way. On every turn there were people who were despairing -nearer to the seacoast and the banks of the great rivers people lived in fear of the Vikings; inland where they could not fear these invaders, they found all the security of these last few years cut off with no hope of restoration. For those who recognized the king in flight the defeat was all the more acute.

At first Lawrence tried to stop and give some advice or reassurance to these people but there were too many and their grief was too great.

The party overtook the Queen's retinue many miles to the west, along a great road. When first Josephine had heard the hurried hoof-beats behind, she had feared that outlaws or unfriendly knights were coming, who might molest her party" When she saw it was Lawrence and four of his friends, tears of relief sprung to her eyes. As he rode up to her, she rode to meet him. They greeted with an embrace and she turned her horse to ride up to the head of the retinue.

"Oh, my lord, I feared so for your life!"

They all rode on away until there was a sheltered part of the woods where they could dismount. Lawrence told his wife all that had happened and she grieved with him for all his lost dreams. Once or twice he glanced over at the others. Larissa wept on Loin's shoulder -even he, who had ridden silent and seemingly unperturbed, now showed emotion as he comforted his wife. Samir had gone over to a tree where he sat on the marshy ground and hid his face.

The decision was made to go to Wales. Josephine showed distress at the idea until Lawrence assured her she would never see Lanimere's home. Many of the retinue would go north, some south to seek refuge. All of Lawrence's closest friends, Lorin, Sean, Tramtrist, Rory and their families, and Ricca would go to Wales. Samir would be taken with them. One priest who was Lawrence's confessor, Pr. Priedrich Hyperion, would accompany them. Lachrimae would have to be sent back to Prance to her uncle, le Charles. Lawrence hoped to find sanctuary in the castle of a friend from his Welsh days, Prince Llewellyn a Gador of Radnor.

The rain never let up while they were traveling their southwest journey. Some great relief was to be felt when the stronghold of the prince came into sight. The porter of the gate was confronted, when he answered Clancy's knock, by over twenty sopping, dirty and bedraggled people. He was at first unwilling to let them in.

Despite all Saxon hospitality freeloaders were scrupulously selectively treated. Clancy announced the King of Christenlande, though, and the porter, who cared not to mess with royalty, hurried off to tell his master.

After their rejoicing at the thought of shelter, the tedious moments of waiting seemed to accentuate every ache and pain the riding had brought on. The women fretted about the welfare of their children and, when finally the porter returned, they were, by and large, very happy just to stand in the entrance where they were bidden.

When Owen, the porter, requested Lawrence enter to speak with the prince, Lorin unquestioningly stepped to his side, as Rory stepped to the Queen's side to attend her while the King was absent. They were escorted a short distance in the building, a wood and stone building probably left over from the Romans, It was set up in the wild mountains of Radnor, on the side of a mountain overlooking a valley full of huts and fields. It was a very productive and peaceful looking area, though in truth it was only the latter., The Welsh frontier would never be an agriculturally productive area. But there were herds of sheep all over in clumps of white.

The room they were shown to was a smallish one, though they were to learn it was one of the largest in the building. Its furniture consisted of oaken chests, Roman leather chairs, a table and skins on the floor and walls. At the table sat a tall, sharp-eyed man whose head sported curly red-brown hair. He had a smiling Welsh face and dressed in a blue to match his eyes. He did not stand to greet Lawrence and Lorin but motioned them to chairs.

"Ah, Lawrence, oh days of your stay at Trelane!"

Lawrence smiled and Lorin strained to understand the provincial Welsh.. Llewellyn continued, "ah, what disaster has befallen you and why do you travel so unarmed?" His voice was deep, loud and musical - his whole manner was that of a man in love with life and ready to face anything with courage and a laugh. Lawrence explained the terrible occurrences of the last several weeks.

Llewellyn's smile ceased, but only for a moment, to shine, showing his sympathy. "Ach, that despair of your country can never happen to us here - we are too far from the sea to fear the Danes, and if we weren't, there is nothing we could offer them to steal. We are clanny, we depend not on great kings or dukes but only our prince who knows all the chieftains in our valley" Here, if you will accept my invitation to stay, you will find a sheltered life you have never enjoyed.

Arrival in Wales

Lawrence's party accepted Llewellyn's invitation to stay in Radnor without question. All along the ride to Wales there had been far no one would wish to take in so many homeless foreigners. Few, though, in the party spoke Welsh only Lawrence, Lorin and the Irishman, in fact. When the King's interview with ap Cador had finished, the Christenlanders had been escorted to the great hall and the fire. It was a sight to see, three women, for their children's sakes, bustled up close around the fire, three others who stood waiting to warm their hands. Each who were attended had servants striving to help them warm themselves and the children. The men stood off to the west where the table was. Llewellyn stood between Lawrence and Lorin, chattering away about the villa's remains and how he had salvaged much of what could be seen from ruins of an old country home of a Roman Briton. He told them, with much apology, that tonight many of the entourage would have to bedded down in the great Hall. The King and Lorin could have rooms, for a small party of chieftains who normally stayed at court during the summer and autumn had left to guard their sheep because of the early winter. There were a few rooms where they stayed available.

All were well enough satisfied to have any sheltered place to sleep, and were able to rejoice the next morning when they awoke to sunshine and the songs of migrating birds. They were able to prepare themselves for the last stages of their flight - settling in and growing used to their new situations.

Rory's wells was the best so he translated as Llewellyn attempted to explain what kinds of arrangements had to be made. H explained that only Lawrence and Lorin and their families could have rooms. Lachrimae could stay temporarily with a lady who occupied a third room. A fourth, smaller room could be used as a nursery. Those who wished could choose parts of the estate to stay at and still others could have small cottages outside the old Roman wall. Percy and Jocelyn suggested that a hut could be built for them, Ricca could share one of the rooms. Rory said he could sleep in the Great Hall, as minstrels often did. Thus he could speak to those who traveled and et news, and reminisce of his home in Ireland. Samir spoke to ask to bunk in the stables. He said that when it was cold he could come into the Great Hall, but until then he would be near the horses he learned to care for in his youth. Sean an Emily asked for a small cottage, for this is how they chose to live in Christenlande as well.

There was one vacant hut already and Percy and Jocelyn went out to claim it. They had few belongings to make it feel like their own, but Jocelyn was very versatile in converting various items into useful furniture and décor. Sean left Emily to care for the children while he supervised the building of their own small abode.

It was a burden lifted; all those hours of discomfort and worry and sorrow ere converted to the activity of people concentrating on making new memories and places for themselves where those memories would reside.

Perhaps most active was Father Hyperion: he had to wade through the rubble where the oldest wall had been torn down to make the encampment large enough to add a small chapel. This very chapel, in time to come, would be involved in the great division of the Saxon church, denouncing the Celtic brand in favor of Roman Catholicism - but the walls would be crumbled and the remains overgrown long before a profligate king would divide it again in favor of a pretty new wife. Trivial matters often destroyed whole ways of life; centuries-old traditions bow to personal whims.

There was much to be said for the new homes these people set up. Lawrence and the Queen might not view purple velvet, regal designs or luxurious furnishings, but their room was ever as warm and a setting of love as ever. Josephine could smile and be a little pleased that royal matters no longer called Lawrence away from her side-they could spend countless hours alone and with their children. In the fort, Lawrence could no longer enjoy the pomp of his reign, but he also need not fret over this and that political matter.

One more person they were to meet. At the evening meal of mutton, hearty ale and bread, a young lady sat at the table with the household and guests. She seemed not to be a servant. She did not speak, but to Lorin, who spoke politely to her once. They soon learned this dark, mysterious lady was the Prince's paramour, Cairlin.

Samir and Rory Speak of Love

Samir sat silently in a corner of the loft. The straw was piled up fresh all around him. The stairs creaked and he slowly looked over to where young Cadoc knelt poised, waiting to speak. Cadoc looked a little puzzled - why did Samir sit so like a frightened cat, in a corner, looking out on the world with large eyes which caught every movement, noticed every thought, feare3d every look Cadoc had often noticed, as he was a perceptive if rather carefree boy, that in company Samir would I always search words, looks, movements and silences for meaning why would he want to, reed to do this?

The Persian permitted a sad smile. The boy hurried with his news that Lawrence intended to travel to see a great king (a king other than his Royal Self, that is) and that wished Samir to accompany him. Samir's reaction was to look puzzled, searching time - the past, the present, the future as he studied people. Then with an expression almost of resignation, he nodded.

The ride to the great fortress was a long one, but no amount of time it seemed, was large or small to Samir. Lawrence and Lorin chatted as they always did, Lawrence exultant and eloquent, Lorin, quiet, wise and devoted. Rory rode alongside Samir, both lost in reverie. Rory was a good companion for him. They could always be together, willing to remain company only, completely silent. This new, quiet Samir reminded Rory of Shannon in his silent time. There was no difference, save that Shannon would occasionally make a mad attempt at pathetic joy. Rory wanted to speak to Samir, to capture as a friend this Samir who was so like a dead Irishman once had been. But Samir held himself reserved, avoided event the looks of those who accompanied him.

One evening the party camped on the side of a hill. Rory sought out Samir and saw him setting off to a heavily treed ledge. Rory followed him and saw him sit down beneath a small tree. He called out his name and Samir started when he saw who it was, he seeme3d to smile with the look of one who waited for the sun all night and was just viewing dawn. He gestured for Rory to sit down and Rory smiled back.

"I knew you would want to talk to me sooner or later. You have been watching me - what is it you see?" Samir spoke calmly.

Rory eyed him for a moment and then began to speak. "There is something, Samir, which puzzles me about you. Albeit you were always an introvert, suddenly you are actually worlds away. Once Shannon was like that. I want to know why. I want help, or learn…"

Samir seemed even easier after the reference to Shannon. He lifted his hands, and rubbed his eyes in a gesture of fatigue. "I once spoke at length with Shannon. I am willing to speak freely with you for his sake. He was a lost soul-he never did know himself. That is how I am so much like him now. I am lost now, too. I knew why Shannon was lost' I know in some way my fear now. I will speak to you if you will hear me, for I need an ear to story into. I have much to tell."

He averted his eyes now as he spoke in a precarious voice. Rory listened with his entirety. Shannon had been very dear to him, and his wisdom and attentive love for his friends had grown from that Shannon had always seemed dangerously frightened. Now someone would explain why.

"Rory, I am lost now because someone who was dear to me is abruptly no longer here Michael is dead now, no longer here to comfort me, to be my source of light. Is it no always so, when one's beloved dies? Yes, Rory, Michael and I were lovers. Michael was strong and I needed someone strong. But now he is dead. I am best with a horrible loneliness-an unbearable one which I've hardly felt before. Yet I sit alone. It is because of this loneliness I do so. My shoulders and arms tingle with frustration - - lack of love does that, one sits alone because others only emphasize this difference, this vain wish to commune - vain because it is an unsympathetic world. There is no love, it seems, quite like homosexual love, for it is a defensive, self-contained love. There is no tradition, no romantic notions to uphold it, like "normal" love has. Often normal lovers feel little at all. They can play at amours and be cheered on, tho' neither feels more than an inclination toward the other. I will not deny there are those who are above this. My love with Michael, tho', was beset with dangers, threatened always with terror, with doubt, with shame. Yet we were free and honest lovers. Some love can be symbolized by amorous embraces, some by a smile of spiritual understanding. My love for Michael must be symbolized by a comforting caress, in which the tingling electricity of anxiety in one skin can be wiped away by sympathy and love. I am lost and lonely now. There is no caress; I tried to find a lover in Cadoc, but lust will not free spiritual desire. I may only hope to find a kindred spirit, someone who will be never be. Michael but who will understand me, who will confront with me the frozen world, with beauty.

"Shannon sought this in women, but since he never found a sensitive woman amongst those he knew, he became confused. He looked to you, found solace, but did not know how to express his need - and he grew more confused. He dwelt constantly on love and fear - it finally drove him mad I once offered to speak to you and he reacted violently That Irish upbringing he had, allowed profligacy, but not homosexuality. Strange that the Irish soul is so lonely, yet it is only allowed to confound itself by feigning comfort in riotous life."

Samir turned his face to Rory. "I don't know if what I've said you can possibly sympathize with. So long as it is sympathy, I am happy. But I would rather shrink from your disgust than wither under your pity and indulgence. I told you because no secret is good to keep-there must be a release either in kindness or humor. You will be my friend now, because you loved Shannon…spiritually."

Rory's sorrow was deep. "Yes, I loved Shannon."

Roddy and Samir

Lawrence paced angrily up and down the room. He glanced frequently over at Lorin, who sat back in a deep furry chair. He was talking above normal speech, found himself receiving looks of warming from his chief minister.

"Lawrence," Lorin was cautioning. "If you are heard we are sure to be denied support. Certainly, you are impatient…"

"My God, Lorin!" Lawrence shouted. "We've been here a month! Do you see any indication that our matter has even been considered? This isn't France! This silly diplomatic game playing should be confined to the chessboard! What would I do in the same situation!"

Lorin indulgently waived his hand. "My lord, you would immediately consider the worthiness of the cause, confer with your counselors as to our resources, and decide. But Christenlande is not set up like this godforsaken country. It's bigger here and more threatened. They have to keep their petitioners waiting. It tests them."

"Well, I have no patience with politicians." Lawrence threw up his hands in despair. "I want to get some answers and go. I don't know how much longer I'll wait."

Lorin continued, "In any case, my lord, I warn you to remember that soldiers like you and politicians like Ardwy have one practice in common: spies. We are in a weak position as it is, with out aggravating it.

There was a slight knock on the door. Rory came in without waiting to be invited. He looked at the men as if for news. Lawrence motioned him into a chair while he himself perched on a stool.

"I went in again this afternoon to speak with Lord Ardwy but I received the same treatment: friendly, courteous, and non-committal.

Lorin jokingly mocked the king "All these politicians!"

Rory smiled and shook his head. "I can see you're quite sick of these quarters," he joked. "And probably your roommate too. I can't say I care for this wind hell, but Samir has seemed to brightened up. He even seems to like it"

Samir came down from his horse with a great laugh. He led it over to a stable boy and ran over to where Roddy was just riding in. He stretched an arm up to Scot and pulled him off his horse. After they had given this one over to the boy, MacDhui leaned over and whispered in Samir's ear, "Why, I wager this one would soon be tempted to cut our throats if we keep up these midwinter rides!" Samir gave the buy a mock-frightened look an d then laughed delightedly. The two knights threw one arm about the other and began to run back to the manor house singing and jumping.

Once in Roddy's room, they settled down in tow deep chairs to laugh and eat various kinds of dried meat. Roddy shivered and joked, "Why did you ever leave Persia, you fool?"

"You know very well why, you twit!" Samir could hardly speak without laughing. "I left it with Michael, what more reason is necessary? But don't get me reminiscing . You know I will be hell to live with if you do!"

Roddy became more serious. "I almost hesitate to say it, but I have grown quite fond of you, Samir. You are young and so easy hearted. I wish I could always hear that dammed incessant laughter!"

Samir smiled and looked pensive. He straightened up in his chair and leaned toward his companion. "Oh Roddy. I know it is you who have made me forget my grief. If not for you I could no doubt spend my life thinking of naught but my loneliness for Michael. Thanks to you I know that I am not dishonoring Michael's memory by being happy. We have only been lovers for a week, but I now feel very close to you."

Roddy looked quietly at Samir for a moment. The he laughed and shook his head. "Ach now, man; what will I say to my lord if I come to dinner all teary-eyed!"