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At last, with only a few hours left before daylight, Rhiannon reached the clearing where Sion had made his camp. A glowing fire still burned outside the caravan, she heard the chomping of a horse, and just made out Sion’s black and white cob grazing nearby. Then she spotted Sion, lying on a blanket near the fire, he never did like sleeping indoors, not even in his wagon. He preferred to sleep under the stars whenever the weather permitted, even now in early winter. She leapt from the pony and knelt beside the young man, shaking his shoulder, “Sion, Sion wake up—for goodness sake, I need you to wake up, I don’t know what to do.”
Sion raised himself on one elbow, blinking, before sitting bolt upright, “Rhiannon. Rhiannon, cariad, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be tucked up in your own bed fast asleep, what’s wrong?”
"Sion, listen to me, my father has arranged for me to marry Gwynfor Pryce in a week’s time, what am I to do, Sion, I can’t marry him, I won’t.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, “you know it’s you I want, and only you.”
Sion threw off his blanket and jumped to his feet,“Rhiannon, my love, I will never let another man have you, not if you love me. We must get away—ride, as swiftly as our horses can carry us, we’ll find a preacher to marry us, in a town where no-one knows us and we’ll settle down somewhere far away and no-one will ever find us.”