The Legend of Lady Ilena (5 page)

“It is hard to know. Their clans, like ours, form new
alliances constantly. A few of the painted ones have pledged to join with Arthur in his fight against the Saxon invaders, but most band together to oppose him. My task here in the North is to bring everyone who will join Arthur into a firm alliance. As the Saxons push farther and farther north, Britons must band together, or we will all be conquered.”

I know well that Moren believed that. He questioned any traveler into the valley about news of Arthur and the spread of Saxon power. I ask, “Does Dun Alyn follow Arthur?”

“We don’t know,” he says. “What word do you have from your people there?”

“My father returned from Dun Alyn two weeks ago, but he was too ill to talk about his trip.” I hope he doesn’t ask the names of my people in the East. It is a shameful thing to be unable to recite one’s lineage.

Whenever I asked Moren or Grenna about my birthplace or about our relatives, they would answer, “In time, Ilena. In time. There is no need for you to know now.”

I ride on in silence. There are too many questions in my mind, and each one leads to another more confusing.

Near noon we break out of forest cover onto the bank of a lake. I can see across it, but the length stretches out of sight. Rain has ceased, although gray clouds mask the sun. We stop to water the horses and rest. Durant is shaky when he dismounts. He moves
cautiously to sit on a fallen tree and slumps over with his head down while I loosen the horses’ bits so they can graze.

I take two bannocks and a strip of dried meat from my pack. I tear the meat in two and offer a piece to him along with one of the loaves. He accepts them with a weak nod but doesn’t begin to eat. I fill our waterskins and carry his to him.

“Thank you, Ilena.” He drinks and takes a bite of the bread. “I felt well enough when we started this morning, but my head swims now.”

I reach over to touch the wound. His forehead is hot, and the swelling seems worse than it was this morning. “You need rest and a proper poultice for this,” I say. “How much farther to Dun Dreug?”

“Not far. It’s at the end of this lake. Let’s keep going. I can manage.” He scowls at the meat, then takes a small bite.

When we move on, I hold Rol to a walk, hoping the smooth gait will be easier for Durant. Bork is impatient but finally settles down to match Rol’s pace. The wide track near the water’s edge is easy, and my mind wanders while Rol ambles along.

I’ve no desire to detour from my own journey, but it is afternoon already. Stopping for the night with hope of a bed and hot food is tempting. And I might learn something about Dun Alyn.

D
UN
D
REUG IS VISIBLE LONG BEFORE WE REACH IT
. T
HE
walls of earth and stone stand on a ridgetop above the lake. Durant turns us onto a well-traveled trail that winds its way up to the summit. There we follow a high road to the gates. The lake lies gray and calm far below. Gulls swoop and call over the water, and there is a wide view over the hills and valleys in all directions.

The earthen defenses that ring the outside of the complex would surround the entire Vale of Enfert.
I
keep a proper appearance with my back straight and my head high as we approach. We are challenged at the mouth of the first ring.

“Who goes, and what is your business?” “Durant of Hadel, envoy from Arthur. My business is with Perr.”

“And your companion?”

“Ilena of Enfert in the West. She travels with me.”

The gatekeepers, youths about my age, not yet
bearded, step back to let us pass. There is no one at the opening to the second earthen ring, but a small troop of warriors stands around tall wooden gates in the inner stone wall. One of them calls to us.

“Ho! Durant, is that you? And who is with you?”

“Aye, Bracios, what’s left of me after a too-well-aimed slingstone. The lady Ilena travels under my protection.”

I nod in what I hope is a ladylike greeting. Under his protection, indeed! And yet it saves a lot of trouble. There will be no advances, no questions I don’t want to deal with.

The gates creak open, and we ride into Dun Dreug. I have heard stories of fortresses. The descriptions filled stanzas of the bards’ songs, and Grenna and Moren often told of holdings they had known. Still, I am unprepared for the sheer size of the compound or for the commotion before me.

There are structures everywhere I look. A round building like the houses at home but much larger stands farthest from the gate. It must be the Great Hall. People swarm in and out of doors like ants going about their business on a hot summer day. Hounds and children chase each other around buildings and across the grounds.

We head directly to the Great Hall. The man who stands before its door wears wide gold armbands, and his sword hilt shines above an ornate scabbard.

“Elban, Chief Perr’s good friend and doorkeeper,” Durant says as we approach.

Elban steps forward to greet us. “Welcome, Durant of Hadel. Chief Perr has been told of your arrival.”

He has hardly finished speaking when a man hurries through the wide door behind him. “Durant! Blessings on the feet that brought you. We’ve been expecting you for days.”

Durant slides down from Bork’s back. I can see the effort he makes to stay upright. His face is pale around the ugly swelling, and his knuckles are white where he clutches a saddle strap. He smiles, however, and speaks in a hearty voice. “Blessing on this house, Perr. And a welcome sight you are.”

Perr of Dun Dreug is short and nearly as broad as he is high. His beard and hair are brown streaked with gray. Bright blue eyes are alert under heavy brown eyebrows. His hair is held in a curious circlet of gold wire that ends in flat gold animal heads pressed against his temples. He wears leather trousers and a loose vest over a finely woven tunic. A gold pendant inlaid with red and blue enamel hangs tangled in brown chest hair at the tunic’s opening.

He turns to me with a nod. “And welcome to your companion.”

“The lady Ilena.” Durant makes no further explanation for me.

“A blessing on this house and all who live here, Chief Perr.” I move to dismount, and Elban springs to Rol’s side.

“My arm, lady.”

“Thank you.” I hardly need help getting off my horse, but I lay my hand on the thick brown forearm he offers.

“I need rest, Perr, and perhaps a poultice for this eye,” Durant says. “Then we can talk.”

“My wife, Faren, is skilled with wounds; she’ll treat it for you. I’ll show you to your sleeping space.” Perr looks toward me.

I flush at the unspoken question that hangs in the air.

“The lady Ilena would like the women’s quarters.” Durant smiles at me.

Boys have appeared to take the horses. I reach to lift down my pack, but Elban moves in front of me. “I’ll get that, lady.” He slings my pack on his shoulder and takes my sword and shield from the harness.

I nod to Chief Perr and Durant and follow my guide toward a building off to the side of the Great Hall. He carries my shield and pack together on his shoulder with one hand and holds my sword in the other so he can study the hilt.

“Gola, Gola! Hurry up!” When a woman a little older than I appears, Elban continues. “This is the lady Ilena. She rode in with Arthur’s envoy. Find her fitting quarters.”

He hands my pack over to her and offers sword and shield to me. “A fine sword this, lady. Made by Master Trelawn, I’d wager.”

“I don’t know. It was a gift, and I treasure it highly.”

“That you should. Gola will tell you when it is time to gather in the Great Hall for dinner.” His nod to me is almost a bow.

Gola wears her full auburn hair loose, and it falls from a simple silver circlet. She has a bronze-and-silver brooch at the shoulder of her brown dress. She leads me across a dim room with a low fire in the center hearth and into a fine sleeping room with walls taller than I. There is a deerskin to drop over the entrance for privacy and a window onto the courtyard.

She closes the shutters. “It blows cold from the north, lady. We fear snow early this year.”

Bad news, that, for me. I’ve heard enough of Moren’s trips to know that there are mountain passes yet to cross before I reach Dun Alyn. If there is a chance of snow, I must move on quickly.

“The servants are busy in the kitchen,” Gola says. “I’ll bring you a basin of water.”

“Thank you,” I say. “That will be welcome.” I open my pack and shake out the blue gown and the girdle. I spread them over one end of the long bedplace and lay my circlet and bracelets with them.

Gola returns with a basin of steaming water and a towel. “I’ll return for this when you’ve finished. Most of the ladies are at chariot races beyond the northern wall. You have time to rest before they return.”

The hot water feels good. I wash away the grime and horse smell and pull on a clean undershift. There is
still no one in the building but me, and the bed is inviting. It feels good to stretch out.

When I awaken I hear voices, but they seem to be fading. Someone has removed the basin and towel. I push the doorskin aside and peer out into the rest of the house; two women are moving toward the front entrance. They are too engrossed in their conversation to notice me, but I get a good view of a gold pendant, bracelets, and gleaming circlets.

There’s a harp playing in the distance, and I smell roasted meat. I find Grenna’s comb and attack the tangles in my hair.

“Lady Ilena.” Gola bustles in. “You’ve had a long rest. Can I help you get ready?” She takes the comb from my hand and points to the bed. “Sit.”

I obey and let her work. She picks up the gold circlet. “Lovely,” she says when it’s adjusted to her satisfaction.

I stand to pull on the blue gown and find her holding it ready. I can barely remember Grenna helping me dress when I was a child, and I’ve certainly had no one combing and holding and smoothing for me since. Being taken for a lady is an interesting experience. Gola exclaims over the fine needlework on the girdle and hands me my bracelets.

“Is the mirror there in my pack?” I ask.

She rummages around for a moment and pulls it out with one hand. With the other she draws forth the
gold torc. “Oh, lady. This is priceless!” She reaches out and clasps it around my neck, then hands me the mirror.

The torc is heavy against my neck, but the feeling is not unpleasant. I can see the metal gleaming in the smooth bronze mirror. It calls attention to my face and to the thin circlet that holds my hair. I have no idea whether I should wear it or not, but Gola thinks I am appropriately adorned for the Great Hall.

“Oh, Lady Ilena, you’ll be the envy of every woman there.”

I’m not sure if that is my goal, but they think I’m a noblewoman of some sort, so I should try to play the part. I take my light slippers from the pack and pull them on.

“I’ll walk with you to the Great Hall,” Gola offers.

The sentries greet me when we arrive. They have taken Elban’s place at the entrance. The position of doorkeeper is important and a great honor. If no strangers are anticipated, Elban will eat at Perr’s table. The sentries will call him if they need help deciding whether someone should enter the hall.

“Lady Ilena. Chief Perr and his wife wait for you at the head table.”

Inside the hall I stand for several minutes adjusting my eyes to the dim, smoky room. In truth it is more than the change in light that makes me pause. The noise of dozens of people talking, calling between tables, laughing, and, at one table near the front, clapping
their hands overwhelms me. Harp music fills any spaces in the din.

I’ve never dreamed of so many people in one place. Most sit on benches at long tables that fill the room. Servants run about with baskets of bread and fruits. Women hurry to a huge cauldron at one side to refill flagons for those at their tables. Torches sputter above it all, adding light to fading twilight from the windows and smoke to the scent of meats and human bodies.

I realize I’ve been standing there for too long when the hall grows quiet and people turn to stare at me. Gola touches my arm and points across the room to a long table raised on a platform. Chief Perr sits in the center; a tall blond-haired woman stands at his side. She is beckoning to me and pointing to an empty seat beside her.

“I’ll find you after dinner,” Gola says. She moves off into the crowd.

I remember to raise my chin and square my shoulders before I start across the hall. It is important to look confident whether I feel so or not. Moren reminded me often that people keep their first impressions for a long time. As I move along an aisle that stretches between tables to the platform, I hear whispers.

“Rode in with Durant.”

“His woman?”

“… somewhere in the West.”

“See that torc?”

“… staying in the women’s quarters.”

By the time I reach the head table and take the seat beside Chief Perr’s wife, conversation has resumed at full volume. I can hardly hear her words. “Welcome to Dun Dreug. I am Faren. Durant tells me you are from the West?”

It is rude to ask direct questions of a guest, but I can tell that she hopes for information. I smile and try to speak without admitting that I have no noble lineage to report. “From the Vale of Enfert, lady. It is near the western sea.”