Rebekah in Wales

Rebekah in Wales

  by Kate Everson

  Copyright 2011 Kate Everson

  There’s a little chapel in Wales with wooden angels.

  “I think I’m in love!” exclaimed Rebekah, and she couldn’t stop smiling. There were wooden painted angels everywhere, on the walls, the ceiling and carved into the roof trusses. They all peered out at her, following her every move in their tiny home.

  Rebekah had never seen anything like it. These angels felt alive!

  On the walls too were delightful paintings in the wood, with angel faces and designs.

  “Wales is certainly an enchanted place!” said Rebekah.

  She had come for a visit from Canada with her magical Prince of Powys. She had first met Llewelyn on the hilltop with the ruins of the ancient Castell Dinas Bran in Llangollen, and they had fallen in love again after being apart for centuries. She knew instantly that he was her lost prince and they had reunited in delight. Now, they were back in his homeland and Rebekah was loving every minute of it.

  There were chapels all over this land of the Celtic saints. And castles. And ancient ruins. Everything here was steeped in history, of thousands of years.

  She clung to Llewelyn as they wandered happily through this mystical land. They climbed old ruins and peered inside stone tombs dating back to the neolithic age. And with every step she took with her dear prince, she became more fascinated.

  But what she loved most were the angels. They were so pretty and welcoming, she felt right at home here. The door to the Rug chapel was curved and wooden, like a Hobbit home, and she could have moved right in!

  Wales was like that, as Rebekah soon discovered. Everything was magical!

  They climbed the hill to the ruins of their old castle, Dinas Bran. Here she knew she was in the presence of fairies. A couple of children played among the ruins climbing the stones and lifting their arms to the wind as if they were about to fly. Rebekah joined them, laughing the whole time. Llewelyn boosted her up on one of the crumbling stone walls and they sat there for a long time watching the green landscape far below.

  The whole Dee valley below was beautiful, so green and dotted with sheep and tiny farms. Rebekah felt joy here. Especially now, sharing it all with her prince.

  There were many castles in Wales, Rebekah was soon to discover, and each just as marvellous as the last. Most were built in medieval times during the war between Wales and England, and the biggest ones were built by King Edward trying to claim the land from the Welsh. Rebekah didn’t really know much about the history. She just loved walking all around them and on the walls, imagining she lived in that era. Maybe she had!

 

  Caernarfon was one of the biggest, all spread out with courtyards and tunnels and turrets and Welsh flags flying. It was like being in a big theme park, but this was real!

  There was something about Wales that got Rebekah’s heart pounding. Llewelyn just smiled at her. To him, it was all so familiar. He had lived in some of these castles, and had fought from them, had died in one. But he didn’t share any of those horrible battles with Rebekah for fear of frightening her.

  They wandered through the countryside like lovers, her head nestled inside his shoulder blade like a tiny mouse. He loved to feel her close. It had been so long, so many centuries since they had been together. Now it was like nothing could tear them apart.

  From tiny chapels to monster castles, there was something to see around every bend.

 

  There was even an ancient burial chamber called Bryn Celli Ddu where Rebekah walked right inside, with Llewelyn leading the way! She wondered how many people had been buried there. It dated back thousands of years.

  They found an inn to stay at near the seaside town of Nevern and enjoyed the pub atmosphere and the old Celtic church nearby. There was a river that ran through the valley with an arched stone bridge spanning it.

  Rebekah and Llewelyn walked across the bridge and further up a hill following a farmer’s narrow tracks. There were sheep everywhere, and Rebekah loved this land. They just wandered wherever the grass was green!

  “How could you ever leave a place like this?” Rebekah asked. “It’s picture perfect.”

  But Llewelyn just smiled.

  “I have been many places in many ages,” he replied. “All the beauty in the world is nothing compared to the beauty of our love. It transcends time and place. It is forever.”

  Rebekah sighed and kissed his cheek. She was so glad to have him with her.

  Llewelyn pointed out the ancient markings on the grave stones in the church yard. They meant nothing to her. But he explained that he had written them, many hundreds of years ago.

  “I wrote about a princess that I knew,” he said softly.

  “Who?” asked Rebekah.

  “It was you, of course,” he replied. “It was you. Don’t you remember?”

  Rebekah had no memory of those days, but once in a while between sleep and waking she had visions of places and people that must have been from another lifetime. She remembered only a few pictures in her mind, and sometimes a scent on the wind that took her back there.

  “I wish I could remember all of it,” she smiled sadly. “But I am glad you do. Or we would not be together.”

  The yews themselves could be thousands of years old, there before the church was built, just growing and growing. They were considered sacred trees to the ancient people and many places of worship were built around them.

  Standing among them, Rebekah felt their strength. She wished she could be as strong as they were, just living and growing stronger every day. They didn’t seem to care about what was going on in the world, but were just there to bring their majesty and presence of peace and a glimpse of eternity.

  Some of them even had eyes that looked right at her. There was that one tree that must have known everything she was thinking, and all she was.

  They sat beneath the tree’s huge boughs and nestled in tightly, closing their eyes for a few minutes of rest and peaceful bliss. With her head on his shoulder, Rebekah quickly fell into a deep sleep.

  She was a princess in her dream. And Llewelyn was there, holding her hand. He offered her a cup of mead from a golden goblet. She took it shyly, the handmade lace on her wrist barely touching the cup as she lifted it to her lips. He watched her and smiled. He had the most amazing eyes, so deep and so in love. She could watch his eyes forever. Suddenly, she felt herself falling, falling. There was nothing but sky all around her, and Llewelyn was not there any more to hold her. She was falling quicker and quicker and the sky grew darker.

  “Help!” she cried weakly, but the words barely came out of her lips.

  She fell for what seemed a lifetime and then, just as quickly, she landed. Hard. The ground was solid and she lay there stunned. Her purple dress was flowing all around her in disarray. She had scratched her arms and legs, and there was a nasty cut over her left eye, with drops of blood staining her white lace collar.

  “Where am I?” she cried out.

  But no one was there to answer.

  Only a seagull flew over, and peered down at her. He held something in his beak. Then he dropped it. A white handkerchief, hand-embroidered with a royal insignia.

  She picked it up and stared at it. She dabbed her cut, and the handkerchief soon became soaked in her red blood.

  Rebekah got up and wandered, frightened, down a path that led to a stream. She took off her dress and stepped in. The coolness enveloped her. She kept walking. Soon the water was over her head. She kept walking, down, down further into the depths of the water.

  It felt good to be there. Her eyes were open wide and she could see everything clearly. She did not understand any of it, but it seemed that something had taken over her a
nd was propelling her here.

  “I don’t know who I am …” she gulped.

  Water did not rush into her mouth. She was the same underwater as she had been in air. The medium did not bother her.

  “I cannot be mortal,” she thought. “Or I wouldn’t be here.”

  Then she remembered the angels in the chapel. That one wooden angel had spoken to her, had seemed to know her. And now it appeared right in front of her, holding a golden chalice.

  “Rebekah,” the angel smiled. “Come here.”

  Rebekah moved forward. She held out her hand to accept the chalice.

  “Take it,” the angel commanded. “Drink.”

  And so Rebekah did as she was told. She drank the red wine and it felt so good. It went into her system and made her a different person. She was no longer Rebekah. She was changed. She was a princess now. And she was alive and well and living in the Castell Dinas Bran.

  She looked down from her tower on the hillside of Llangollen and saw the countryside far below. In her hand was the golden chalice and she was sipping lovely deep red wine. She touched her forehead, and noticed a small cut. The blood had dried up but there was still a scar.

  “I wonder… ” she thought.

  But she did not have long to think about anything. Far below, at the base of the hill, she heard a clarion call of a bugle. Horses with mounted knights carrying swords and dragon’s shields were fighting in hand to hand combat. The brutality was unbelievable.

  “Oh no!” she cried. “Not again!”

  And she ran down the hill crying and waving at them to stop.

  “Please!” she screamed. “No more bloodshed! No more!”

  A dark knight spotted her and swept her up onto his horse and they galloped off over the next hill. She clung desperately to the black stallion as they rode over rocks and through woodlands. When they finally stopped, he leaped off his horse and pulled her down with him.

  “No!” she screamed. “No, please!”

  But he covered her mouth with his kisses and held so tightly she could barely breathe. Then he pulled back and looked at her. A slow smile appeared on his lips. And suddenly, she knew! It was him! It was her Powys Prince!

  She laughed in delight! Of course! She could not get far enough away that he could not find her. And they spent the night, curled up together beneath the boughs of a giant yew tree, remembering all their long lost love.

  Something dropped on her head. Rebekah woke up. She was there with Llewelyn and everything was more beautiful than ever. She reached over his strong chest and kissed his face over and over again.

  “I love you so much!” she said. “You are my forever prince.”

  He laughed and hugged her tightly. “And you are my forever princess,” he replied.

  Tthey made a pact that no matter what happened to them in this lifetime, that somehow, somewhere they would get back together.

  “I will find you,” he said fiercely, holding her close.

  “And I will be there waiting,” she whispered.

  And they remained in Llangollen for many years, climbing that ancient hill of Dinas

  Bran whenever they could, just to remember.

  The End

  See Rebekah and the Powys Prince, and Rebekah and the Green Man, and Rebekah and the Celtic Gods, and Life Lessons from Home Sweet Home.