May Earth Rise (10 page)

They had always known each other so well. It was what she had been counting on.

He quietly rose to his feet and walked away from the campfire. The rest did not question his leaving, though Rhiannon shot him a sharp glance that he did not see. And Arthur looked up from the flames with gleaming eyes but did not speak.

She followed Gwydion as he made his way through the trees, stopping some distance away from the campfire where he knew he could not be seen or heard. He turned away from the distant glow and looked for her as she came to stand before him.

Her hands moved, her fingers shaping the Anoeth, the gestures that Dewin used to communicate to others when they Wind-Rode.

Gwydion ap Awst, you look well.

And Gwydion answered her with Mind-Speech. How it must hurt you to be pleasant to me for even one moment.

Then we will not continue the pleasantries, if you don’t mind. And get down to business.

Ah, yes. Business.

Dinaswyn—

You dare to use her name?
Gwydion’s Mind-Speech was ragged as his anger and sorrow leapt from his mind to hers.

Havgan killed her. He took his dagger and thrust it through her heart. Her hands faltered then began again. Dinaswyn sank to the snow and her blood seeped from her. And I knew then—

You knew what?
Gwydion’s contempt hit her like a blow. But she had known it would be like this.

Her blood was mine. We were one, and always had been. Oh, Gwydion, if only I had known this when she was alive! For now it is too late.

Too late to save her, yes. Arianrod, what do you want?

To take it back. If only I could.

But you cannot. And I must tell you, I do not believe you for one moment.

I did not think you would.

Then what now? You have found us this night. Can we then expect Havgan’s Coranian’s to capture us tomorrow?

No. I have left him.

You have not.

I have. I left Eiodel a week ago. Havgan did not see me go. But I believe Elstar knew. I felt someone watching from Cadair Idris. I thought, at the time, that it was you. But I know now that it was not.

Gwydion hesitated. Arianrod almost smiled, for now she had him. He had heard something from Elstar. Had heard, but not quite believed. And now he did.

This child I carry has made me see what I have done, even as Dinaswyn’s death did. It is a boy, a son. It is a child that I cannot let Havgan have. I cannot let him twist the boy as he has been twisted. I cannot let the child ever know his father. I cannot let my son leave Kymru. He must stay here, where his heritage is. And if I must pay full price for that, than that is what I will pay.

Still Gwydion did not speak, so she went on.

I saw in your eyes, so long ago, what having a child of your own could do. How it could change everything. And this boy is changing my heart, even as Cariadas changed yours.

She saw, then, the belief beginning in his silvery eyes, though his Mind-Speech was as cool as ever.

What do you expect me to do, Arianrod? Welcome you to Cadair Idris?

No. The most I hope for is your protection. You may send me where you like, as long as I am far from Eiodel. And the Golden Man.

Where are you now?

And she knew that it was as good as done.
I am a few leagues outside of Cil.

In her mind Gwydion sighed. Arianrod, you must know that you will not be believed. Arthur will need to be convinced. And I, too, will need more persuading.

I knew you would. And so I tell you this, and can provide proof. Havgan has plotted with Llwyd Cilcoed to capture you.

Llwyd Cilcoed! Where is that chicken-hearted weasel?

Here with me, near Cil. He does not suspect the truth. He thinks that I am going to lure you here for him to capture.

And how does he intend to do that? I am to tell you that he is here with me. I am to offer him to you, as though I do this without his knowledge. You will meet us and he will collar you, for he has an enaid-dal.

And just how does he intend to collar me?

It is to seem as though I have bound him. His wrists will look as though they are tied. But they will not be. You will think him helpless and turn your back on him to face me.

And where am I to meet you two?

Where you tell us. You are not too far from us now. Llwyd and I will be nearby when you camp two nights from now. You will leave the others to meet us.

And how is he to know that I come alone?

He thinks you will tell no one, for you would wish to bring him to Arthur yourself, for his judgement.

Then I will indeed meet you both near where we will camp two nights from now. And be assured, Arianrod, that I will not come alone.

I did not think you would, Gwydion. Bring whom you wish, it is nothing to me. I ask only one thing of you.

What is that?

That you ensure the safety of my child. For everything I do here, I do for him.

And that, out of all the things she had said that night, was true.

Addiendydd, Disglair Wythnos—early evening

A
ELFWYN, DAUGHTER OF
the Emperor of Corania, Star of Heaven, despised and neglected wife to the Golden Man, smiled to herself as she crossed the almost deserted courtyard of Eiodel.

She knew, finally, that there would be nothing he would keep back from her. Not anymore. Not now that she realized his secret.

For he was in love with her. And she knew it.

Now that she knew she wondered why it had taken so long for her to see. It had come to her unexpectedly, simply, in the quiet manner that the deepest truths make themselves known. She had been at the evening meal and she had put out her hand and picked up her golden goblet of wine and had accidentally brushed his hand as it lay tensely on the table. At the barest contact he had snatched his hand away, curling it into a fist so hard his knuckles had whitened. His breath hitched, then he was still.

And then she had looked up and, for the first time, had truly seen him look at her.

At first she had not known what to do with that knowledge. At that moment she had looked away, uncertain as she rarely was. Worse than not knowing how to use this truth was that she had not known how she felt about it.

She had lain awake most of last night trying to come to a conclusion or two. In the end she could only decide that this meant he was an avenue to that which she desired most. For the rest—for her heart that had begun to stir for the first time in years—she had put that aside deciding it was unimportant for now. If she accomplished what she must, then—perhaps—she could think of it.

The dusky twilight dimmed the diamonds scattered through her blond hair as she mounted the steps leading to Eiodel’s battlements. Her white gown whispered across the black stone of the cold fortress as her clear green eyes glittered in the wavering light of the torches set at regular intervals in brackets along the fortress wall.

At last she reached the top and made her way across the flagstones. He would be on the north side, looking at Cadair Idris. As he always did when he came up here.

Overhead the stars began to spring forth in all their jeweled, cold beauty. His back was to her, though she knew he heard her approach. He would know it was she, for his heart would tell him.

“What do you see when you look at the High King’s mountain?” she asked.

Sigerric turned and looked down at her. His thin face was carved into bitter lines. But she saw the light in his eyes, limned with starlight.

“My Lady,” he said and began to bow.

“Don’t bow to me, Sigerric,” she said softly. “Never to me.”

“Then to who?”

“To my husband, perhaps,” she said with an edge to her voice.

Sigerric turned away and looked again on Cadair Idris. His thin, tense hands gripped the top of waist-high stone wall. “To him I have always bowed.”

“And always will.” Oh so delicately her voice rose at the end of that statement to make it—almost—a question.

“I cannot answer you, Princess,” he said, not looking away from the glowing mountain.

“Cannot or will not?”

“Dare not.”

“Ah.” She said nothing for a while, gazing across the plain at the softly glowing mountain that rose from the bones of the earth. Even from this far off she could make out the jewels that winked and glimmered on the Doors of Cadair Idris. The silence of the night sank into her skin, almost soothing her, almost making her forget that one thing she wanted more than anything in the world. Almost, but not quite.

“Where is she, Sigerric?” she asked quietly, knowing he would answer.

“Gone.”

“Yes. But where?” she insisted.

Sigerric turned and looked down at her upturned face. She was not sure how much he saw there, but she knew he saw something of the reason she was here. And she saw him close his eyes to it and she knew that no matter how long it took, no matter what she had to do, he would not prevent her from having what she wanted so badly. But neither would he directly aid her.

“She left to meet another Dewin. They plot to capture Gwydion ap Awst.”

“But how?” she gasped, for she had not expected this. “How can they get to him in Cadair Idris?”

“He is not in Cadair Idris. Not any longer.”

“How do you know that?”

“I did not know. Nor did Havgan. Arianrod told us that this was so.”

“And my husband believed her.”

“It is, I think, the truth,” he said mildly and turned away from her again to look back across the darkening plain.

“Is Havgan really at Caer Duir?”

“He is. Arianrod told him to leave this to her. He chose now to remind the Archdruid that he is master, because there is nothing to hold him here in Eiodel for now.”

“Because she is not here.”

“Yes.”

“When will she return?”

“When she has done what she set out to do. Most probably a few days from now.”

“Bringing the Dreamer with her?”

“No. She will not bring him here, for they seek to use him as bait for Rhiannon. And she could never be lured here.”

“Then where?”

“I am not sure of that. I do not know if that has even been decided yet.”

“How can Arianrod imagine that she can fool Gwydion ap Awst? The way it has been told to me, she is the last person he would trust.”

“That is true. But he does not need to trust her for this to work. She has offered him bait in the form of a renegade Dewin. He will come so he can recapture Llwyd Cilcoed. It will not occur to him, in his arrogance, that he can be taken.”

“Surely he is not such a fool.”

“Arianrod will meet him and take him to Llwyd Cilcoed. She will have told him that the Dewin will appear to be bound but will not be. She will have told him that the plan is for Llwyd to collar Gwydion while Arianrod distracts him.”

“But?” she inquired.

“But there will be more than the two of them in that clearing. There will be twenty Coranian guards as well, well hidden.”

“That will never work! I have been told of the Dreamer’s powers. He would surely scout out that clearing before he ever went near it. He would see them!”

“They will be well hidden. He will never see them.”

“They cannot know when he will do what they call Wind-Riding. He could be leagues away and discover them there.”

“Which is why they will have lain in the underbrush for two days, waiting for him. Undetectable, invisible to his Wind-Ride.”

“They cannot possibly lay there for two days! They are men.”

“They are Coranian soldiers. They will do as they must.”

Aelfwyn turned her gaze to the cold sky. The stars glittered like carelessly strewn diamonds on a black coverlet. To the north Cadair Idris glowed softly. To the east the full moon rose, bathing even black Eiodel in silvery beams.

“They will do as they must, Sigerric,” Aelfwyn said softly as she fastened her eyes on the Doors of Cadair Idris. “And so will I.”

Meriwydd, Disglair Wythnos—early evening

“A
GAIN,”
M
ADRYN SAID
implacably.

Gwen sighed. Every time the Druid told her this she was determined to say no. But, somehow, when Madryn’s brown eyes turned on her, she couldn’t refuse. So she tried again.

She touched the bracelet of oak that encircled her slim wrist. The dwyvach-breichled, the goddess-bracelet, shone in the soft golden light of the High King’s hall. The bracelet of oak, polished to a glowing sheen, was incised with dozens of circles and spirals, all flowing into each other in a manner that seemed impossible for the eye to follow, like a maze that folded into itself and opened out again. Gwen did not understand the patterns, and knew she did not. She wondered if she ever would.

It was galling to fail and fail and fail in these baby steps she was taking. She, who had once Shape-Moved Modron’s Cauldron itself from the bottom of the pit in Ogaf Greu now could not move the tiniest pebble. She who had once Shape-Moved the ring of the House of PenAlarch from the fat finger of the Master-wyrce-jaga into a convenient wine jar now could not even nudge the smallest leaf.

She opened her mouth to remind Madryn of the things she had once done, but stopped herself in time. After all, they hadn’t made a difference the one time she had mentioned them. Madryn had simply asked her coldly if she could do any of those things now. The silence that answered Madryn’s question was answer enough. Gwen had tried to say that if she hadn’t had to learn to control her powers she would still have access to them. She had begun to say that she did not need to be taught, she needed to be left alone. She had started to explain that she was a different kind of Druid, one that the Mother herself had blessed, and she did not need to learn lessons for babies.

But Madryn had not answered. Instead, she had simply risen and left the room. Gwen had run after her, frantic, begging her to stay and teach her. But Madryn had gone to her own chambers and shut the door, refusing to open it in spite of all Gwen’s pleading.