"It's the unknown that draws people." ~ E.A. Bucchianeri.

Chapter 4.

The Castle of Llys Gwyn.

The castle of Llys Gwyn stood on a hill overlooking the acres of land belonging to it. A former instrument of war built to help subdue the rebelling Celts during the reign of King Edward I, it served as home to the family of Blethyn, who had owned the lands for as far back as anyone could remember.

Elwyn Blethyn, who currently held the title of Lord and Earl of Llys Gwyn, seemed to the first master who wished to bring the lands to utter ruin. Nothing was known about him, for he was never present in society and never seen on his estate. Any business was done through his secretary, who could only be reached by letter and who rarely answered back. One thing was clear, the Earl did not care for his land, which was suffering from his neglect.

As far as either Beatrice or Catrin knew, no one had ever set eyes on the Earl for many years. Whispers went about how he was a cruel, evil man who tortured anyone who dared come within five miles of his castle. It was for this reason that Catrin was terrified of riding through his lands and coming up to his large, looming fortress.

"What do you suppose his dungeon looks like?" Catrin whispered as their horses trotted down the beaten road. "He might keep all sorts of horrible torture instruments."

"Catie!" Beatrice rolled her eyes. "You don't believe all those silly rumors, do you?"

"Magwen told me how she heard that the Earl has sold his soul to the devil in return for immortal life, and devil put the condition that his lordship could never leave the grounds nor to show himself to any human being."

"Sold his soul to the devil indeed!" Beatrice could not believe Catrin took any of that nonsense seriously. "I know for a fact, Catie, that his Lordship resides in Europe. I believe he went there for health reasons."

"Magwen told me story," Catrin protested. "I never once said I believed her." She glanced cautiously around. Magwen had also said that thieves had taken to roaming these roads, now that there was no one to keep them away.

Beatrice noticed Catrin's uneasiness. "What are you so worried about?"

"Only that I remembered how vagabonds are said to be on the loose in the area and it could be unsafe."

"The land certainly has grown wild," Beatrice said. "Ah, and there is the castle!" She pointed out the ancient structure standing majestically on the hill with a forest of fir trees surrounding it. They created a large, green wall amidst the bare landscape of early spring. The towers of the castle rose high into the sky, watching over the surrounding area with window eyes that had stood guard for six centuries. The grey stone walls stood against a bleak, barren backdrop and spoke of a mournful and ghostly tale. A long forgotten road led right up to the gate, which was a remolding of the former drawbridge.

Catrin gazed with wide eyes as the feelings of wonder and fear that had swept over her as a child returned in much the same manner. It was beautiful and frightful all at the same time.

"I wonder what it is like inside," She mused aloud. "Do you suppose it very frightful? One must admit it looks like something straight out of a fairy tale. I almost expect a dragon to come flying out. Just look at that tower. It is higher than the rest. Doesn't it look like a princess should be locked in it?" Catrin's eyes suddenly lit up. "Perhaps that is what the Earl is doing. Perhaps he is hiding some maiden in there hoping to forcefully marry her. Or maybe he wants to offer her as sacrifice, part of his bargain with the devil." Now that her imagination had taken off there was no stopping Catrin. "Or perhaps it is not just one maiden, but many of them. Perhaps he kidnaps them and drinks their blood to keep himself forever young."

"Catrin Llewelyn!" Beatrice gasped in dismay. "What an imagination you have! I think it comes from all that Brothers Grimm you have been reading. Drinking the blood of young maidens? First you painted the Earl into some pagan druid and now you have turned him into a vampire?"

"Not exactly a vampire," Catrin corrected. "He does not need their blood for food. Rather he must somehow partake of their youth and innocence in order to live forever, and since the blood is the fountain of life in the body, he drinks..."

"Stop right there!" Beatrice ordered. "I have never heard anything so foolish in all my life."

"Then what is your excuse for him hiding in his castle all day?"

"I thought I told you the Earl was in Europe."

"Oh, yes, you mentioned it earlier," Catrin remembered. She let out a sigh. Why was real life so boring and dull?

In the meantime Beatrice was busy scheming. "Seeing he is not at home," she informed her stepsister. "Perhaps we could ride over and take a close look at the castle."

Catrin wasn't comfortable with this suggestion, but did not want Beatrice to think her a coward. So she shrugged her shoulders and simply said, "Very well."

Beatrice grinned with satisfaction and the two girls urged their horses down the road. A wind blew through the air causing the tall firs to creak and groan as they rocked from side to side. Catrin shivered in the chilly coil. It seemed as though ghosts from the past would come flying out any minute and surround her.

"Papa said there was a siege here once," she said in a quiet voice. "It happened in the end of the thirteenth century when King Edward I was trying to suppress the Celts. The local prince upset with the English castle on his land and tried to drive the unwanted visitors out. A great battle was fought at the foot of this very hill and many men died. He told me their ghosts haunt these woods and attack any English person who dares come out here after dark."

"Woe is me, then," Beatrice laughed. "I have ne'er a drop of Welsh blood in me. Was there not also a siege held by that whoever rebel in the whatever century."

Catrin shook her head. "Really, Bea, I can see you did not pay attention during history lessons. His name was Owain Glyndwr and he fought the English during the reign of Kings Henry IV and V. And yes, he held siege to Llys Gwyn. He was not able to take it however; the castle was too well fortified. What I can't understand is why Glyndwr wanted the castle so badly seeing as it was already in the hands of the Welsh."

"That is the true mystery of Llys Gwyn," Beatrice pointed out. "Everyone knows it was built by the English, and yet the name of Blethyn is Welsh. There is never mention of how the Blethyns got it from the English. I cannot put the two and two together. You've were born with Llys Gwyn as your neighbor, Catrin. You ought to know something about the place."

"I only know that it has been in Blethyn possession for centuries and centuries. No one can remember a time when the family did hold the title Lord and Earl. Everyone also knows they have always been fiercely loyal to the English Kings. Their opposition against Glyndwr was so strong he pronounced them traitors to their own nation."

"Llys Gwyn, Catie, what does it mean? You told me once but the translation escapes me."

"White Court," Catrin replied. "It is a pretty name, though not one that describes the castle. Look, there is nothing but grey and gloom about it."

The two girls were silent for a little while as they pondered the history of the fortress. At last Catrin spoke up once again. "I wonder if any balls were ever held here, when the others Earls were alive. Do you suppose they were grand affairs?"

"Why is it always about balls, my dear stepsister" Beatrice shook her head. "They are such tiresome events."

"I cannot agree with you on that. If I had my own castle, I would host balls every month and invite all the young ladies to come in the hopes of helping them find their true love."

"Catie, Catie," Beatrice smiled in sympathy. "I order you to stop reading all those fairytales! You know you don't find true love at a ball."

"But of course you do!" Catrin argued, a look of defiance spreading across her face.

"In Brothers Grimm perhaps, but in real life you are lucky if you find true love at all. Trust me, Catie, I've been to hundreds of balls and I haven't found any true love."

"That is because you aren't looking for him."

"I am too," Beatrice retorted. "Only...only I know for certain I shall not find him at a ball."

"Then where will you find him?"

A loud bark from Argos cut short Beatrice's reply. The girl's glanced over at him, wondering why he was so put out. An angry voice behind them caused Beatrice and Catrin to jump in their saddles. They had been so engrossed in their conversation they hadn't heard the sound of horse hooves approaching.

"And what are you two ladies doing out here?" The deep voice with a thick Welsh accent demanded of them. The girls whirled around in sudden fear.

On the road right behind them, sitting on a horse was a gentleman. He was decked in the uniform of an officer. His posture in the saddle was excellent and an air of fine breeding and discipline hung about him. His black hair only beginning to grey at the temples and his dark brown eyes were narrowed at them in suspicion.

Catrin turned deathly pale and could not find her voice. Argos growled at the man and his horses whined from the fierce sounds coming from the dog's throat. Beatrice was startled as well, but strove to keep control of the situation.

"Mercy me, sir," she reprimanded, though her voice trembled just a little. "You have frightened us half to death. We only wished to catch a glimpse of the ancient castle. I assure you we were hurting no one. Indeed, I hardly believe two young ladies such as ourselves could hurt anyone even if we wanted too."

The man's features softened just a little. "Well you have seen the castle, but it is getting late and you had best hurry along. These roads become dangerous after dark. And get the monstrous dog away from my horse; he is making the creature nervous."

Beatrice was tempted ask the man who he was and why he was riding about on Blethyn territory, but she worried that Catrin would faint from fright and decided that departing was the better option. "Thank you for the warning, sir," she politely replied. "We were about to turn back as it was. Come along, Catie. Argos, leave the man alone. Come along boy, home." She turned her horse and rode past the officer. Catrin followed her, with Argos bringing up the rear. They kept their horses at a quick trot until upon reaching the bend in the road Beatrice suddenly pulled her horse to a halt and dismounted.

"Bea, what are you doing?" Catrin hissed.

"I want to find out why he is out here all alone," Beatrice replied. "You can ride on home without me. Argos will keep you safe from any vagabond."

"And leave you here?" Catrin shook her head. "Bea, do be sensible and mount Balios. We are on another man's property and we don't want to get into trouble. Curiosity killed a cat once."

"Ah, but satisfaction brought it back," Beatrice retorted. She tied her horse to a tree. Catrin knew there was no talking her stubborn stepsister out of her ridiculous endeavor and figured it would be better to perish with Beatrice out here than return home alone and have to face Mamma's wrath. So she also dismounted and tied her horse. Argos was secured as well and the two girls ran through the woods back to the castle.

Just as they came up to the castle the saw the gate open and a man come out to greet the officer. Beatrice motioned for Catrin to keep as quiet as possible as they crept up through the ground covered with branches, needles and fir cones and peeked out from behind two large fir trees. Now that they were closer they could get a good look at the gatekeeper and Catrin let out a quiet gasp of surprise at the sight of him. He was perhaps the most exotic looking person she had ever seen. The man's skin was a dark brown and he wore a turban of sorts on his head. His clothing was composed of a long white shirt reaching quite past his knees and a pair of light trousers underneath. Plain black shoes covered his feet, but they were of a style never worn in England. The gatekeeper put his hands together and gave a slight bow to the officer, then took the horse and stepping aside let the man inside the castle courtyard. He then followed behind, leading the steed in, after which he shut the large gate.

Catrin and Beatrice exchanged glances. They stared for a little while longer, but nothing happened and at last they returned to their horses and Argos.

"How very mysterious this has all been," Catrin mused in an excited voice. "The castle is not quite abandoned after all. Do you suppose that man was the Earl? Do you think we have seen him at last?"

Beatrice gave a little shrug. "He is an officer, and I do not recall hearing anything about the Earl being in the army."

"And what of the gatekeeper? He most certainly was not from England."

"I'd think he was Indian," Beatrice pointed out. "At least I have seen drawing of how Indians dress and it matched the clothing of that man."

"Oh, this has all gotten so much more interesting," Catrin giggled and shivered. "The mystery truly adds up now that a foreign servant has entered the picture. Perhaps the Earl has become a pagan and now worships false gods. Do you suppose that is why his lands are on the verge of ruin? Because God is punishing him for turning his back on all that is good and true?"

"Catie, not another word!" Beatrice warned her stepsister. "You must not speculate in such a manner. Do not let your imagination get the better of you."

"My dearest Bea, I fear your warning has come too late," Catrin laughed. "I have so many different ideas are running through my head right now. Why, I hardly know which to tell you first."

"Tell me none," Beatrice suggested. "I shall be none the worse for not hearing them. They are no doubt filled with ghosts and chains and blood drinking monsters. I do not wish to have nightmares when I go to sleep thanks to your tales of doom and woe."

"Very well," Catrin relented, "I shall tell them to Her Majesty once we return to the manor. We had better hurry. We have been gone a long time and Mamma might have a fit."

Beatrice tossed her head indifferently, but did not argue with her stepsister. The two girls mounted their horses with a final glance at the castle they rode away from the secrets and ghosts of Llys Gwyn and back to the safety of Derwen Goch Manor.

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*Owain Glyndwr was a Welsh hero who lived in the 14th century and fought against the English rule. He was never captured or betrayed to the English, but after his death the resistance ceased, especially after Henry Tudor (who was Welsh from his father's side) took the throne. 

**Henry Tudor (later King Henry VII) was king of England from 1485 to 1509. He began the Tudor dynasty.