Carmarthen and Y Ty Gwyn ar Daf, A.D. 926
Blegywryd ab Einon bustled along the corridor with a sheaf of vellum sheets clutched like a babe close to his chest. Only he and his fellow jurist, Cynyr ap Cadwgan, knew how many hours of discussion, dictation, transcription, and translation had gone into these pages; hence, his great care to safeguard them. He had to hurry for an appointment in a small bookbinder’s workshop that backed onto the royal palace where a sprightly, elderly artisan had already sewn and pasted years of work into a specially prepared red-leather cover. The pages held to his breast were the last to complete the enterprise.
“This should please his majesty,” said Cynfor ap Cyngar, pointing to the tooled lettering sparkling in gold foil on the cover.
“But I didn’t ask for
