The Pact

The Pact- Part III

VII

The day called for a feast. It was quite a delight at the local Eisteddfod in Llanfairfechan, not only to Rosemary's curiosity but to Caroline's as well, who gladly took part in the festivities that fair August morning, nearly spraining her ankle. There were words that were butchered, songs that were sung, and tales of mystery and heroism, from The Girl from Lyn y Fan Fach to the legend of Pwyll, Prince of Dyfed. The crowing of the bard was met with great acclaim, and for his victory, there was to be an outdoor feast near the Upland Walk. Albion lead the way, though Caroline kept a safe distance from the two to allow them to each other.

"It's a shame that your uncle couldn't join us in the festivities." Rosemary says in a sarcastic tone. Albion nods in agreement, kicking about the pebbles in their path as they walk along to the stony cliffs. He rubs the back of his neck, looking at the ground.

"He's a politician. They can't bear to leave old Britain's side when there's money to be made," He says with a chuckle. "But I hope you have enjoyed yourself today." Albion points over to the fair in the distance, with the sounds of harps and flutes floating upon the wind.

"The Welsh language has certainly given my head a spin, but I've enjoyed it all the same. The ancient Britons seem to still live through these people. It feels very grounded, very ancient, yet alive and thriving." Rosemary observes, folding her hands behind her back.

"Well, technically, at least from the research I've found, we're all Germanic, or Austrians, really. The Welsh derive many of their traditions from the mainland." Albion explains. Rosemary raises an eyebrow, slightly bemused.

"Austria? Really, I would think that they would have little to do with one another," Rosemary grins as they stroll through the fair. "Tell me more of what you know, Professor." Albion chuckles, squinting as the bright sun settled in the west.

"The Hallstats, our ancestors, came here from Austria, and resided in Gwynedd, back when it was its own kingdom. The Anglo-Saxons, however, sought to raze us after we had settled in. They dipped their red and savage tongue in the western sea, but at Mount Badon we held them back, the last great slaughter inflicted upon our rascally crew," Albion describes, smiling with subtle passion. "The Welsh greatly recovered, and we lived very orderly in a long peace. Well, until the Normans came."

"You mean William the Conqueror? From France? I know he set up a lot of castles around here. I visited Cardiff Castle for a wedding when I was a little girl." Rosemary chimes in. Albion nods slowly, but with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"Yes, but it was his son, Edward, who really upended things in the beginning. Owain Glyndwr tried to hold our independence for a while, but the Tudors eventually stamped us out. They held a feudal choke upon our land and gave privy to their aristocrats for their own pleasure. Our language, our customs, all of this," He says, motioning to the world around him. "Could have been lost if we hadn't fought back." Rosemary looks around, observing the indigo sky, the rolling mossy hills, the quaint little houses that were peppered along the landscape, and the air was swept with petrichor from the evening dew. Rosemary hugs her arms, taking it all in.

"I could lose myself here." She says wistfully. Albion glances over his shoulder at her, her eyes beaming with contentment. He smiles, then turns his gaze back towards the path

"It's as easy as sin." He replies.

"Come on then, you two, let's get a move on! I don't want to get there, and the food be cold!" Cries Caroline behind them as she the maneuvers around the rocks. Finally, at the top of the hill, they join the other towns people at the banquet and enjoy a good meal as the sun goes down. The dying light dances upon the rolling waves, crashing into the foam against the rocks. Breaking off from the party, Rosemary wanders over near the edge of the cliff, and steadies herself as she looks out to the fading horizon. She then kneels down the ground and sits upon one of the rocks, her eyes growing lost in the sound. Albion joins her, while Caroline wanders off to the buffet nearby. He sits on one of the other nearby rocks, looking out at the roaring sea.