Sitting on lichen covered stones that might once have been part of Dwynwen’s convent on the island, Eurig told Dylan how, in the fifth century, King Brychan’s daughter suffered for love and had then, much later, become the patron saint of Welsh lovers. With a cheeky smile, Dylan said that they’d better steer clear of syrupy drinks in case their hearts turned cold like Dwynwen’s, or worse still, they both turned into ice like Maelon, her lover. Then Eurig led Dylan to Dwynwen’s well, where legend had it that the fate of lovers could be determined in the movements of the fish that swam there. Dylan laughed when he saw the shallow, miry puddle and with an exaggerated sigh at the prospect of doomed fortune he said that the fish obviously didn’t dance for the likes of them. Eurig waved his hands over the murky pit like a crazed, camp old witch, calling on the fish to reveal their secrets. Bending low over Dwynwen’s well he caught the glint of something brilliant in the mud.

From the rock that had split so the dying Dwynwen could recline and bask in her last sunset, Dylan and Eurig watched the sky turn red and they thought up fables about the gold gimmal ring. The mud had come away easily enough from the ring’s interlocking hands, and the heart that the fingers embraced had retained its lustre. Lost or thrown aside? Some careless lapse or the vengeful and deliberate action of an angry lover? Or perhaps the fish were telling them something after all? Then Dylan kissed Eurig deeply. Their senses sated with sensual pleasures and sex almost took them over. Eurig drew away, fearing that this exquisite promise might be washed away by grief and loss.

The tide rolled in over Malltraeth Bay’s wide sands and the waves restored to Dwynwen a fragile virginity. The sun set, and they sat in silence, high up on the deserted beach, both hoping for a new beginning and wondering if they dared entrust it to the other. And when sex’s possibility made their talking futile, they swam, confident that the effort would tire them and the cold numb their mutual desire. Later, wrapped in one another’s tired arms at the sea’s edge, where dying waves lapped their vulnerability, Eurig yielded to the whispered promise and the rhythm of Dylan’s body.

Dylan