Sons of Camelot: The Complete Trilogy (14 page)

Hats, riding cloaks then shirt sleeves were all packed away into their saddlebags one by one as they rode down the hillside. They stopped at the lake to water the horses and stretch their saddle worn legs. Anlawdd stripped off his fur lined gloves and handed them to Rhys, who handed him back a pair of smooth kid skin gloves putting the fur ones inside his grandfather’s bag. Rhys dipped into his own bag and changed his as well. He hurried over to his father to assist by removing the man’s heavy coat which was draped over the back of his saddle and handing him his riding gloves. He grunted as he took them from Rhys and handed him his warm ones. Rhys packed them away for him and returned to his horse, mounting again without a word.

“We have arrived in very good time, Father,” Rhys finally said, almost choking on his words.

“Yes, we have,” his grandfather replied quickly, “I do hope to find the hall at a farther state of completion than I did last time.”

“Indeed, Father,” Gwallawc interjected. “I think that the words I had with Sir Arris last visit should have made certain of that.”

“Ah, that is true,” Anlawdd replied, “You have always been an excellent intermediary with the holdsmasters. They always seem to get your meaning, Gwallawc.”

He grunted his reply. Even at such a great compliment Rhys noticed his fathers’ nonchalant response. He shook his head and reined in his horse to signal that he was ready to go. All three rode out together again.

When they arrived at the site, Rhys was astonished. He vaulted from his saddle and ran to help his grandfather down. He looked out over the construction site to see the brick makers firing the perfect clay rectangles and the bricklayers carefully constructing an immense oven in the area where the kitchen would soon be standing. He walked among the maidens who were kneeling in the soil deftly planting the seedlings and suckers that would eventually be the kitchen garden on his approach to the house. The structure butted up against a high cliffside which had been chiseled away to create stone blocks for the construction as well as solid stone floors for the rear of both stories of the house.

Woodworkers were perched high above on scaffoldings constructing a vaulted ceiling over what Rhys guessed would be the great hall of the house. A double staircase was complete at the rear of the hall and Rhys could see bricklayers working on the walls of at least five sets of chambers, two on each side of a central hall and the entry to the fifth at the end of it. Each set of chambers comprised of its own fireplace, water closet, presence chamber and privy chamber.

The structure was not as grand as Kenilwurt Hall but it was certainly not the cottage he had been led to believe it was. Rhys suddenly grew suspicious. He whirled around to see his grandfather and father standing arms folded over their chests looking at him, they were both smiling broadly. He was frightened to see his father smiling; on his face it was an odd expression, but his grandfather’s smile was wide and easy. Rhys walked towards them tentatively. Sensing that there was some formal news to be delivered by the two of them, he knelt first for their blessing. They each in turn touched the top of his head then he rose to look at them. His grandfather spoke first.

“Rhys ab Tywysog, only son of Mucuruna de Gascogne and Gwallawc ab Tywysog, sixth grandson of Irelli de Melusin and Anlawdd ab Tywysog, you have attended to the life the Giver has sent to you and you have done so wisely in the eyes of your Elders. As your cousins, your uncles, your father and your grandfather before you, the dawn of your coming of age has arrived on this eve of your eighteenth year so, as the eldest living male of our family line, it is indeed very special to me to be here with you now, the youngest male of our line.” He paused to retrieve an exquisite iron helm from a young blacksmith standing behind him and as he brought it forward Rhys could see it was a dragon’s head like those which hung in the great halls of all Dumnonian houses.

There was an ancient bronze one mounted over the threshold at Kenilwurt Hall. His stomach flipped over in anticipation. He looked up at his father and saw that Gwallawc had not taken his eyes off his face throughout Anlawdd’s speech.

Anlawdd cleared his throat and continued, “I stand here to witness the granting of a Dragon’s Cave to my youngest grandson, and I pass the honor of the blessing to his father, Gwallawc ab Tywysog.”

He handed the helm to Gwallawc and took a step back. Rhys’ father took the huge dragon’s head from him and moved to stand before his only son.

“I stand before my only son to grant him his Dragon’s Cave on this the eve of his eighteenth year among us. From henceforth, he will always have a cave in our land to rest his head, a cave to take his bride and in which to rear his children.
Mae'r ddraig yn gartref i aros!
”

Everyone on the construction site had stopped their work to watch the proceedings and had now taken up his father’s chant.

“
Mae'r ddraig yn gartref i aros!
Mae'r ddraig yn gartref i aros!
Mae'r ddraig yn gartref i aros!
”

Rhys looked around at them and blushed deeply. He took the helm from his father and fell to his knees again. His father touched his right hand to the top of Rhys’ head and then helped him to his feet.

He said, “Do not be embarrassed by their cries, Son, they are your tenants now, your liegemen. In times of trouble it is they who will surround you and shield you and it is your duty to ensure they are provided for year after year. That justice is done in their lands and peace reigns here continuously.”

“Yes, father,” he replied.

“You are a man now, my son,” he continued, “You have your own home and must now make your own mark on the land as I do and as my brothers do and as your grandfather does.”

Rhys faced the crowd of workers again. He was moved by their eager faces.

“Thank you father and thank you grandfather,” he said, raising the helm high above his head. “You have honored me by presenting me with my own place, my cave. When it is complete it will truly be worthy of a son of the house of
Ddraig
.”

Applause erupted from all the workmen and maidens that had gathered closer to hear the ceremonial exchange of words between the men. Rhys turned and suddenly embraced his father, wrapping both arms around him tightly and was surprised to feel his father’s strong arms enclose him in their tight circle.

That night, all three men camped beneath the open unfinished ceiling of Rhys’ Great Hall with the eyes of the gods twinkling down at them. There was already no moon in the sky and the lake was as black as the night itself. As he carefully climbed the scaffolding around the main hall staircase, Rhys gazed over the black water with awe. When he got to the first floor landing, he looked out over the lake and imagined the breathtaking reflection that would ripple over its surface during the full moon. His heart sank as he thought of how the moon had reflected on the surface of the Everlasting Pool as he had waited for Naida a few mornings before. Slowly he climbed down and as he nestled into his warm sleeping furs, the vision seemed emblazoned on his minds’ eye.

That night Rhys dreamt of Naida for the first time since he had left Avalon. In his dream, they sat under a flowering apple tree in the gardens of Avalon, sharing their family histories just as they had at the Everlasting Pool a week before. It was night and Naida was talking about her mother and the sad story of how she and her two sisters were the only remaining faery of their line left in Eon. Her face was illuminated by the bright light from a full moon shining in the sky above them. Her violet eyes had welled up but she had allowed only one single tear to spill over before wiping the rest away quickly. Her round face was smooth and white and glowing from the wash of moonlight.

When he woke the next morning, he knew the name of his new home,
Itheilwen
.

Chapter Three

Earth

As Rhys walked slowly toward the pond, he felt a pang of guilt at sneaking away from the camp at night without an explanation to anyone. He had hastily decided that it would have
b
een too time consuming and knowing his family well, they would not have let him go to Melusina’s Point in peace. All that was best avoided right now. The thought of the fussing he would have to endure in light of the recent attempt on his life erased the guilt immediately. He tied his horse to a tree and caught his bearings quickly before heading up the path which led to the pond. After nearly a half an hour of walking, he arrived at the water’s edge. He paused, listening to the stream and looking around to be sure he was alone. Satisfied, he went to his knees and gazed into the water.

“Why are you late?” a voice demanded.

Rhys stopped dead in his tracks.

“Why are you late?” she repeated. Rhys laughed musically looking around to see where the voice came from. She was nowhere in sight. He answered her anyway.

“You nearly stopped my heart with fright, my lady, would you mind giving me a moment to recover?”

Naida giggled and made a splash in the water. Her image formed clearly once the rippling had stopped. Rhys smiled when he saw her there. He perched at the edge and stared at her as she looked up at him longingly. He couldn’t seem to tire of her smooth round face and her rosebud mouth which seemed permanently pink; but the most striking features were her violet eyes and long waves of flowing yellow hair, absolutely angelic. She was otherworldly, too beautiful to be real. There was a knotted feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thought this. Instinctively, he lowered his eyes as the blush rose in his cheeks.

“Why do you turn away, Sir?” she asked as she stood by the pond’s edge.

“I am happy to see you, my lady. I was not even sure that calling you here would work. Imagine my surprise when I arrive to find you waiting for me.”

“Indeed, my love. Now tell me, where were you, Rhys? I have been waiting for at least an hour,” she pouted. “I thought you would not come to try to call me.”

He turned tentatively to look at her again. Relief at the sight of her dry dress washed his face.

“I almost did not. I thought I must have dreamt all this but the more I deliberated over it, the more real it felt but I had to be sure so I decided to try.”

Rhys felt his cheeks reddening again as he spoke. He lowered his head hoping she wouldn’t see. Naida giggled at his effort. She changed the subject quickly for his sake.

“Was Morgana’s celebration a success?”

His eyes brightened at the turn in conversation.

“Ah yes it was. Everything went perfectly. My uncle and two cousins came to surprise me.”

“Oh, that must have been wonderful. Did they stay long with you in Avalon?”

“No, they returned home with my uncle the same morning that I left. My uncle was sent to Avalon by his father as I had been sent there by mine. I do not think it was something he wanted for his sons, so they stay at home with him. They all live at Camelot.”

His expression turned sullen at this explanation.

“I see.”

For a few moments there was an awkward silence between them. They spent a long while gazing at each other before Naida cleared her throat.

“Tell me all about it, Rhys,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What do you mean?”

“You are obviously distracted. Something is bothering you. So tell me about whatever it is that is on your mind.”

He sighed deeply and stood up from the rock he was sitting on. He started pacing back and forth along the waters’ edge.

“I am perplexed, my lady and these last two days have left me feeling much more so than is usual for me. I find myself rushing from task to task while my mind is wondering elsewhere. It’s a very disconcerting feeling to be more confused than I am accustomed to being.”

“Dilemma, Dilemma. Oh, how your tresses tangle and weave, capturing men with indecisiveness and insecurities.”

“What are you going on about, Naida? I have never heard this quotation before.”

“You have never heard the story of Dilemma? Surely, Murcanthia would have made certain you had a literature teacher who would tell you the myths, legends and stories that have formed the very existence of men.”

“Well, in his defense, Alwen is an excellent teacher. He has successfully managed to steer me clear of utter stupidity so far.”

They laughed overtly with each other for a moment before Rhys’ expression became grim again.

“I will tell you the story of Dilemma then, Sir, considering your extreme case of ignorance.”

Rhys settled down on the grass beside the pond.

“Dilemma was a nymph who was asked by Gaia to choose which flower she would like to be sent to earth as. She had many beautiful blooms to choose from but she also was not the only nymph set to this task by Gaia. Each one chose carefully, some selected flowers which bloomed early and all through the warm months while others choose water flowers or desert flowers. But Dilemma could not make up her mind. Gaia is a very decisive deity and as such she soon lost all patience with her. She placed her in the water and commanded her to stay there forever. She said that since water does not decide where it goes, it follows the moon’s pull at the tide, the lay of the land or the force of gravity, she would never be required to make a decision on her own again. That is why when there is difficulty in making a decision we say we are having a dilemma.”