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Updated: May 17, 2025
It looked as if no leader could rise in Wales to fight a Norman army or to take a Norman castle. In the battle of Mynydd Carn, a young chief led the shining shields of the men of Gwynedd. He was Griffith, the son of a prince of the line of Cunedda and of a sea-rover's daughter. He was mighty of limb, fair and straight to see, with the blue eyes and flaxen hair of the ruling Celt.
But they were now cowards compared with their fathers. For they no longer lived by the wild sea-rover's fight that had made their fathers' blood leap with the joy of the battle. They lived by a crueller craft.
But I assure you it was not upon that occasion that I found out the colour of her eyes. I was so taken with her whole that I knew nothing about her parts. Yet she was blue-eyed, indicating northern extraction some centuries back perhaps. That blue was the blue of the sea that had sunk through the eyes of some sea-rover's wife and settled in those of her child, to be born when the voyage was over.
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