The Cymry Ring by Michael Allen Dymmoch

Author:Michael Allen Dymmoch
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781626818200
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2015-06-02T00:00:00+00:00

18 ebrill

Since his arrival in the village, Ian had been watching Houel take on all comers at fidchel, a game similar to chess in its employment of strategy, but played with pegs instead of chessmen. It was Ian’s understanding that only Drullwyn had ever beaten him. Ian watched Owain’s mistakes and Rolf’s debacles until he thought he had the gist and, one noonday, he got Houel to agree to a match.

They set the board on a low table in front of Houel’s house and took their places on stools opposite each other. The game took all afternoon. People drifted by, stopped to watch, wandered away, returned. The shadows beneath them slipped eastward. Each player had the other in check half a dozen times, but neither would concede.

As they played, Gwen and Jemma sat nearby watching. Jemma was embroidering a shirt, Gwen grinding oats. Rowena came along with a comb and watched the game for a while, then said, “Mama, will you help me?”

“With which hand?” Gwen said. “Ask Jemma.”

“Jemma?” Rowena said, shyly.

Jemma put down her sewing. “I’d be delighted.”

As Jemma combed her hair, Rowena fingered the shirt she’d been stitching. “What words do you say to make such a pretty design?”

“I pray that the wearer will prosper and be content with his life.”

“And be fearless in battle?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ian could see Jemma nod.

“You ought to make one of these for Ian,” Rowena said. She spoke louder than she needed to. Ian caught Houel sneaking a glance at the girl, but he didn’t comment.

Jemma seemed to be trying to not smirk. “You think he needs one?”

“I’ll say. It’s almost indecent how he dresses.”

Ian felt himself blush.

Houel quickly dropped his eyes to hide his laughter, but he couldn’t control the shaking of his shoulders. Ian took the opportunity afforded by the interruption to checkmate.

“A good tactic,” Houel said, when he’d had time to study his defeat. “Having your womenfolk create a diversion.”

“Oh, they don’t create diversions,” Ian told him. “But, I’ll grant you, they are diverting.”

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