The Rogue Knight
“He’d heard of it, but listening to it was another matter entirely.
As two shepherds joined Rhys, the stocky Welshman began to hum. The shepherds, who looked like a father and son team, grinned at each other as Rhys hummed louder and louder. Their grimy faces became less strained, their slumped shoulders more squared. The sheep, which bleated all around them, quickened their pace, and the sheepdogs herded with more zeal.
Rhys suddenly broke into song. His powerful voice started low and built up in tempo and volume. Soon he was booming out one of the myriad songs that come to the Welsh as naturally as breathing. It wasn’t long before the father joined Rhys, and then the son joined, too. All three Welshmen sang with gusto, their voices echoing off the hills and filling the glades and small forests with joyful sounds. Before three songs had been sung, another team of shepherds ambled along. They too joined the merry singers, adding their lusty voices to the mix.
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