Chapter 7
Lord, what had he done, speaking out? As if he had a right, as if he could help people understand their lives. Him, with his breath hard in his chest and his knees knocking beneath the table.
Rhys turned pleading eyes on Siân. Help get me out of this?
She shook her head. ‘Gelli di wneud e, Rhys.’
Do it? No! He couldn’t.
She leaned close, breath warm on his cheek. ‘Dig deep, find the words within, the words we acted out as children on the mountain. The stories you told that company of drovers on the way to London. They are inside you, Rhys. Only be still, let them come.’
Silence. All around him, his mess mates’ curious stares.
‘Not long,’ he heard Siân say. ‘Only searching for inspiration, he is.’
Inspiration? Here, in steerage? He emptied his mind, softened his shoulders,
