Gambit of the Glass Crowns: Vol. I of epic fantasy The Sundered Kingdoms Trilogy (3 page)

“Ceridwen, the wound is surely not that vicious.”

She motioned Rhodri over to her. Keeping her voice low, assuming Connor could not hear her, she explained. “It was no mere arrow that pierced him, Rhodri. It was one of the felltithe…‌the cursed arrows of the Féinmhuinín.”

“My Lady?”

“I had my suspicions when I removed the arrow. It was not until I was able to look upon the wound that I knew for certain.”

Rhodri punched the doorjamb, his knuckles cracking. “So, it was all useless. He will die anyway.”

“It is not so simple.” She kept her eyes off Rhodri and on the grounds below.

Connor saw her cringe. He wondered how long he had been unconscious. It was still night, but he had no way to be certain it was the same night as the attack.

“The Féinmhuinín no longer have much power. What little they have left has been corrupted by their avarice. Thus came the development of these arrows.” Ceridwen took a deep breath as she looked over to Connor. “It is a unique poison which courses through his veins, manufactured by the Féinmhuinín to reclaim Dweömer by using the very Humes from which their hatred stems.”

“You speak in riddles.” Rhodri’s jaw muscles tensed.

“Slowly, he will feel the poison’s effects. Though, how long it will take, only the Goddess can know. And when the end comes, his body will become part of Dweömer.”

“What do you mean ‘become part of Dweömer’?”

Ceridwen frowned. “I do not know the specifics. It is an ancient curse with a specific purpose: to rid Dweömer of Humes. The only one I think I could ask on the matter would be Rhiannon.”

“The high priestess?” Siana asked.

Ceridwen nodded.

Rhodri’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes watery. “I do not understand how something can be so powerful. It is ludicrous.”

Connor could not recall the last time he saw his brother display such emotion. It was unfitting someone in his station, to be certain. He would have found it comforting to know his brother cared so much if the realization of the seriousness which must be the cause for such emotion did not lurk to the forefront of his mind.

“I have heard the cries of the forest spirits, screaming out as Humes trampled upon their home. There are powerful magicks at work in this world. Did you learn nothing in the years I was your nursemaid?”

“Would it not be best‌—” Siana cleared her throat. “Lady Ceridwen, would it not be more merciful to end his life now, while he slumbers?”

Connor tried to cry out, but the spiced mead was having its intended effect. He felt himself slipping closer into sleep, and he did not retain the strength to object.

“You cannot!” Rhodri clenched his fists. “You cannot kill‌—‌!”

“Be silent, Rhodri.” Ceridwen called on her training and spoke with the authority of a priestess: simultaneously stern and compassionate. “There will be no need for that, Siana.”

Connor knew Ceridwen did not have the strength to carry out such a task. Even with the knowledge it would be an act of mercy.

Though she had not been his nursemaid in some time, instead taking the place of his tutor, he wanted nothing more than to be cradled in her arms like when he was a child. Even with the amount of pain burning in his chest, he would not mind.

Ceridwen glanced at Connor. “We do not even know if the taint of the curse has touched him.”

“He may be all right?” Rhodri asked.

She took a deep breath. “We will not know for certain for several days‌—‌there are signs.”

Connor could no longer discern their words. He felt himself falling from the room, and his pain dulled. Before he could struggle against it, he was fast asleep.

Connor stared down at the waves crashing against the rocks below the castle’s southern wall. The fog rolled forth across the craggy beach from the waters of the Fawrion Ocean, appearing black in the fading light.

Feeling a dull dryness in his throat, he coughed several times. Immediately, he regretted it when his chest burned. With the heel of his palm, he rubbed the pulsing pain just under his left shoulder. Through his tunic, he felt the dampness of his wound leaking through the linen bandages around his chest.

The rumbling sound of a horn drew his attention.

“And so it begins,” he said, letting out a deep, lingering sigh.

Turning from the waves, he looked toward the portcullis. Even from such distance, he could hear it creaking and groaning as it lurched upward.

“I thought that was you,” called Rhodri, walking toward him along the pathway. “I saw you from the courtyard. What are you doing up here?”

Connor kept his gaze on the portcullis. “I wanted some time to think. Between you, Ceridwen, and Uncle Alric, I have not been able to escape outside in some time.”

“Well, you need to take it easy. You did almost die.” Rhodri managed a smile as he slapped him on the shoulder.

“As you all keep reminding me.” Connor frowned, slapping his brother on the shoulder with far more strength than he knew he should.

“Look.” Rhodri motioned toward the portcullis. “King Denorheim’s party has arrived for the clansmeet.”

Bannermen carrying the lush amethyst flags of Annwyd’s royal house marched through the main gates into the torchlight courtyard below. Following the short procession of bannermen, fully armored armsmen escorted the central figure, King Braith Denorheim.

Beside the king, a young girl with flaxen hair rode on a silver mare. Her small frame and delicate features looked weighed down by the white linen dress she wore. The gold band upon her brow betrayed her status. She was Braith’s daughter, though Connor could not recall her name. She had never been to Cærwyn.

“Are they the last to arrive?”

Rhodri nodded. “To keep up appearances. Despite only having to travel a short distance, he still arrived last.”

“Then the Duamor king arrived?”

“He sent his daughter in his stead.”

Connor took a shallow breath, afraid of the pain in his chest. “Do you think it was a mistake?”

“Sending his daughter? No, I hear she is a learned diplomat, though a bit rough.”

Connor shook his head. “Not that‌—‌the attack.”

“How would‌—”

“This is the first clansmeet in over ten years. Everyone knows about it, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then, why would they attack the castle when the only people to have arrived were Duke Gweliwch’s party and yours? Why not wait until the Arlaïns got here, or King Denorheim?”

“But to call the attack a mistake would be foolish. It was well thought out. To wage an assault so large would have to be planned for some time. The castle is almost impenetrable.”

Connor shivered as he looked down.

“You should go inside,” said his brother. “It is too cold out here for you.”

“It is not that.”

“What is it then?”

“The crowds.” Connor pulled his cloak around himself as wind gusted from the cliffs below the castle. He gazed down at the ravelment already gathering in the courtyard. “It is a strange sight.”

“Yes.” Rhodri crossed his arms and rested his elbows on the stone. “Even on the market days, Cærwyn never bustled with foreigners of this count.”

“You are a foreigner now too, you realize, Duke Helygen.” Connor snickered and feigned a grandiose bow.

“I wish you would not do that.” Rhodri swatted him on the head.

Castle Cærwyn had been home to Connor for over ten years now, since the plague in his home province of Helygen claimed the lives of his parents, the duke and duchess. This left the title of Duke to his older brother, Rhodri, and Connor with the title of Duke Apparent. It was clear to him from an early age that, as the youngest, he would never have the political power of his brother. His father lamented the circumstances, having two sons to love, but there had never been a statute for two dukes to have leadership of a province.

“Look.” Connor nodded in the direction of the square. “Uncle Alric has already left. Do you need to attend the clansmeet soon? It is sunset, after all.”

Rhodri turned to the ebbing sun. “Yes, I suppose I should.”

Connor sighed, frowning at the door of the castle. “I am a noble, why am I not to attend?”

“Do not worry yourself so, you would not enjoy it. It will be a long and tedious evening of politics.”

“I suppose.”

Rhodri nudged Connor on the shoulder. “We will have plenty of time to reacquaint ourselves. You must tell me what has happened since we last saw one another.”