Beneath the Crown: The Real Structure of Power in Medieval Wales
If you’ve ever been swept up in the world of historical fiction where kings rule with iron wills, castles dot the landscape, and kingdoms rise and fall, you might imagine early medieval Wales as a land carved into neat territories, ruled from mighty strongholds. The truth, as history often reveals, is far more complex but just as fascinating.
A Kingdom of Trefi, Not Thrones
In the law books of medieval Wales, we find a blueprint for power: kingdoms divided into cantrefi and commotes, which are further broken down into maenorau and trefi. Each tref (village or township) had a specific function: upland farms for cattle or swine, lowland fields for crops, dairy-rich pastures, or woodlands for foraging. To a modern reader, this might sound like a perfectly oiled machine. But reality was often messier.
The Myth of the Model Kingdom
Historian Glanville Jones once championed the idea that this layered system of landholding and administration stretched back to the Iron Age, reaching its zenith in the great Welsh kingdoms of the 9th and 10th centuries. It’s the kind of setup that lends itself to epic storytelling, such as Arianwen Nunn’s evokes in her Welsh Warrior series.
In Nunn’s books, readers follow the legendary Gruffydd ap Cynan, the exiled prince of Gwynedd, as he fights to reclaim his birthright in a fragmented land. These novels dramatise the political fluidity of the time, where a claim to kingship was as much about blood and bravery as it was about lineage and law. Gruffydd’s real-life campaigns marked by Hiberno-Norse alliances, shifting loyalties, and bitter kin strife are a perfect example of the volatile power dynamics of early medieval Wales.
A Land Without Boundaries
While England developed centralised authority with powerful nobles managing fixed territories, Welsh rulers relied on loyalty, kinship, and the sheer force of their personalities. Most kings did not control entire territories directly, but instead, power was shared (or contested) among numerous local lords.
This decentralisation meant that administrative units, such as the cantref or commote, may have existed more in theory than in practice, especially before the 12th century.
The Reality of Power
Even Gwynedd, where figures like Gruffydd ap Cynan built durable legacies, wasn’t governed by a tidy feudal order. Kings ruled through warbands, not bureaucrats. They gathered tribute, not taxes. Castles emerged later; control was established through charisma and military strength.
Historian Andrew Seaman suggests good reasons why Welsh kingship was so fragile:
Partible inheritance meant land was often divided between sons, sparking internal rivalries.
The population was small and scattered, limiting manpower and resources.
Wales’s wild terrain—mountains, valleys, and coastlines—made central control difficult.
What This Means for Historical Fiction
For Arianwen Nunn, this is gold. The drama doesn’t lie in palatial court intrigue but in survival, loyalty, rebellion, and personal ambition.
Characters may serve a local lord one year and challenge him the next.
Land is tied more to kinship than to the king.
A royal court (llys) is not a stone castle but a wooden fortress guarded by hardened fighters.
When you read about Gruffydd ap Cynan in the Welsh Warrior series, you’re not stepping into a grand medieval empire but entering a rugged, war-torn realm where nothing is guaranteed, and where greatness is earned the hard way.