Dinerth, cantref of Rhôs, North Wales, 852 AD
Dinerth, cantref of Rhôs,North Wales, 852 ADLittle Iolyn, six summers of life in his bones, sprang upon his sleeping father with all the vigour of an emissary entrusted with a critical mission, which it was. His mother, like most of the Dinerth population, except for the slumbering Alun, had heard the alarm horn.
“Quickly, Iolyn, rouse your father while I find out why the alarm is being aired. Tell him to rise at once! Give him a good shaking.” Her wicked chuckle purposely hid her anxiety—she didn’t want to frighten the infant.
Iolyn landed with all his weight—the equivalent of a small sack of Frankian parsnips—directly on his father’s stomach. Luckily, the warrior’s reflexes were no quicker than his sleep-befuddled brain, so no harm came to
