Pendragon 02 Pendragon Banner (57 page)

‘Do you know where Rhica is?’ His question
was not totally unexpected.

‘Hunting.’

‘Wolves or dragons?’
Brigid flicked a glance at him. They had lain together, three,
four times in her little hut down by the causeway
where the men
not of the stronghold
more often came to her. And each time
she
had answered his questions, told of all she knew concerning
Amlawdd and his poxed allies and kindred. Arthur
paid her
well for her spying. They
were taking a chance meeting here in
her dwelling place within the
stronghold. But then, she was a whore, they could always claim she was about
her business.

The Pendragon chuckled
at her hesitation. He leant across
the gap between them,
and kissed her in a different way from
how he
kissed Gwenhwyfar. Brigid was for using, his Cymraes
for loving. He
fumbled in his waist pouch, brought out a gold ring and a brooch, tossed them
into her lap. ‘I always pay, my beauty, for whatever you give me.’ The jewels
disappeared quickly into her fingers, away into her own pouch. ‘A stranger has
come here, to Amlawdd’s Hall. Where is he?’ Arthur’s tone was urgent.

‘He is not here.’
Arthur grabbed hold of her hair, held it in a tight grasp. ‘You
are
here within Amlawdd’s Caer at my command, Brigid. I pay you well. I expect
satisfaction.’ Her posture was lewdly provocative. Deliberately
misunderstanding, she answered, ‘That I can give, were you to cease asking
questions and strip yourself of tunic and bracae.’
Shrewdly, Arthur regarded her through slit eyes. She was not
idly boasting, for Brigid was skilled in her
crafts of loving – and
listening. He did not need her, but then, why
rely on rations when a banquet was offered? Sweating, breathing hard, Arthur
rolled from her and gathered his cloak against his damp body. Waited. She would
tell him now, all he needed to know.

She lay beside him, her
naked body glistening in the
flickering firelight. ‘Amlawdd
does not love so well as you.’ A
rthur
picked at some meat that was left in the crevice of his
tooth. ‘Amlawdd,
I would wager, does little as well as I.’ She sat up, drew her knees to her
stomach. ‘He came to me
earlier, when first
the Hall settled for the night. He does not pay
so high as you.’

‘And of what did he talk?’ Brigid began
braiding her loose black hair, her arms raised,
firming her breasts, making them seem rounder, fuller. ‘Of
Rhica not yet returning. He is afraid of his son
you know. Rhica
also wants a kingship. Amlawdd suspects him to be allied
to
you.’ She laughed suddenly, throwing back
her head in
amusement, her white teeth gleaming in the light from the
sparking fire. ‘He once told me that someone ensures the Pendragon knows all
that goes on here. He thinks it is Rhica
who
informs, and in return you will secure him this stronghold.’
She
laughed, her hand reaching out to trace one of the many
scars scything across Arthur’s skin. ‘Rhica lies with me
occasionally,
but keeps his mind dark. Apart from boasting of the women he takes, he says
little. He desperately seeks power
for
himself, he is belly-full of hatred.’ Her finger stroked higher,
Arthur
ignored her. ‘Is Amlawdd right? Does Rhica ally with you?’ Arthur shook his
head. ‘No. Tell me more of Amlawdd.’ She shruggled. ‘He is angered at your
unexpected visit. He told of what, when he makes a move against you, he will do
to
you.’ She paused, dare she add more? ‘Of
what he would do with
Gwenhwyfar when she becomes his.’ Arthur’s eyes
narrowed. None of this was news. He knew it
from
other sources, and by his own observations. ‘He wants my
royal torque
and my wife.’ He snorted contempt. Gwenhwyfar was safe enough. His fingers
rubbed gently along the familiar
curve of the
gold, dragon-shaped torque at his neck. So was
this.

But when Brigid said the next, he sat alert,
intent. This was news! ‘When Hueil of the North rides against you, Amlawdd
intends to join with him. Hueil is to rule the North, Amlawdd the South. He
boasts that he will be Wledig, supreme.’ Arthur sat silent, digesting her
words. Hueil. He sucked his lower lip. Must he watch his back sooner than he
thought? Brigid fed more fuel to the fire, the orange glow shadowing
across the curve of her breasts and hips, said, ‘Rhica
is impatient
for power, he is raiding farmsteadings and settlements,
taking his own land.’ Arthur answered casually, ‘Only raiding? Nothing more?’
She waved her hand, dismissive, her nose
wrinkling. ‘He has
only the stomach to steal the cattle and women from
peasants. Amlawdd has quarrelled with him often over it, warning him not to
overstep the traces. Too much would bring you to this coast.’ Arthur’s eyes met
hers and she saw suddenly why he was there. He nodded, once, a slight, almost
imperceptible agreement to her realisation. ‘Too much has brought me.’
For a while and a while, Brigid thought on the
information, a
stirring in her stomach that things were about to change.
‘The young man, Ider?’ She slid one of her rings from her finger,
toyed with it. ‘I wondered if he were here on
your business, but
he made no secret of his identity, the others who
whisper your
password come as traders.
Amlawdd did not much like him.’ He had been a fine-looking young man, worthy of
Brigid’s admiring
scrutiny as he had ridden past her open door. A pity
Amlawdd had ordered him killed before she had a chance to invite him inside.

She wriggled forward, bored with all the
talk, slid her hands
up Arthur’s back.
"Tis not wise to send a boy to do a man’s
work, my Lord.’ Arthur’s
reply was gruff as he removed her hands, stood and dressed. ‘Nor should a man
use a whore when he has a wife to warm his bed.’

§ XIV

Gwenhwyfar was furious.
She stood three paces within the
door, fists clenched,
eyes shooting gold-flecked arrows of fire, finding it difficult to speak, so
great was her rage. ‘You stand
there,’ she
spat, ‘and calmly tell me that we are leaving?
Leaving without a damn thing!’ Her arms flew into the air,
came
down and clapped against her body with a simultaneous exhalation of
exasperation. ‘I do not understand you, Arthur Pendragon. All these years I
have at least had the comfort of knowing why you act as you do. Bull’s blood,
Arthur, now you take that from me!’
He stood
with his back to the closed door. He had known she
would react badly to
his announcement, and Gwenhwyfar riled was not an easy woman to face. He spread
his arms. ‘I can do nothing here, Cymraes.’ He walked towards her, intending to
place sympathetic hands on her shoulders but
she stepped away.
He sighed, a
battlefield was sometimes preferable to
Gwenhwyfar in a temper.

He tried again to
explain. ‘I have come direct from
Amlawdd.’ A brief grin
twitched. ‘He was not pleased at being roused at first light, but changed his
mind when he realised I
was bidding him
farewell.’ The grin broadened. ‘For some
reason, Amlawdd is not too keen on having us here!’
Gwenhwyfar did
not return the laughter. He conceded to her
grim
expression, fell serious again. ‘He says the raids on villages
are through Rhica’s youthful high spirits. It
seems true – were 1
to punish every
chieftain whose son went cattle raiding, I would
need to hang every man in the country!’ Her face remained
stern.
This was not going well. ‘What has been stolen is to be returned, I have
Amlawdd’s assurance of that.’

‘And you believe him?’ she retorted, plonking
herself on the bed, wincing as its hardness rattled through her body. ‘Are you
going soft in the head or something? Rhica tried
to kill me, and
your son, or have you forgotten?’ Arthur’s patience was
beginning to wear thin. He wanted to be gone from this place, not standing here
wasting riding time, arguing with his wife. ‘No I have not forgotten, Amlawdd
was not involved, will not defy me until Hueil is ready to march
south.’ Arthur swept his fingers through his
ruffled dark hair. ‘It
was Rhica’s
doing, Cymraes, the attack on you, not
Amlawdd’s. It may even not have
been planned. A chance encounter which Rhica’s swelling greed took advantage
of.’ Gwenhwyfar’s answer was derisive, ‘And that makes it all right, does it!’
Arthur responded instantly, ‘It has been kept as
no secret
that Rhica was hunting down
towards Lindinis.’ He was
fastening his cloak pin, making ready to
leave. ‘It is reasonable
to assume that
Rhica saw you in Lindinis. There is only the one road for you to take – all he
had to do was choose his place and
wait for you.’

‘And Amlawdd?’

‘
Has too
much wagered with Hueil.’ Arthur turned to the
door, with his hand on
the latch said, ‘I’ll fetch the horses up. He will not cross me until he is
ready, not even when he learns of Rhica’s death.’
Gwenhwyfar had not moved. Calmly,
distinctly, she stated,’And what will you do, Arthur, when he is ready? When
next
time he succeeds in killing me? Come
talk to him again? Drink
his wine, eat his food and lay his whore?’
Arthur’s hand froze on the
depressed latch.

‘
Do you
think me that much a fool? You were gone too long
last night, returned
with the smell of woodsmoke and woman clinging to you.’ Arthur swallowed, very
slowly he let go of the latch, turned to face her. ‘She is in my pay,
Gwenhwyfar.’

‘Are not they all?’ She had misunderstood.
Arthur stepped forward hurriedly, his head shaking, hands wildly gesturing. ‘Na,
I do not mean like that, Brigid is my informer here. I need her to keep a close
eye on Amlawdd.’

‘Yet you bedded her.’

‘Aye, I bedded her! Brigid is a two-faced
bitch who could as easily tattle to Amlawdd as to me. I give her pretty jewels
and pretty words and keep her belly full with my attentions and her tongue
wagging in my direction.’ He held up a finger, was
standing before her. ‘And before you say it, aye, I also enjoy it. I
told you not to ride here with me, it was your
choice, not mine.
If the saddle’s
giving you a sore backside either put up with it or
get off and walk!’
He knew he ought not to be shouting, but admitting being in the wrong was not
an easy medicine to
swallow. He marched back
to the door, tore it open. ‘I am
leaving, I have something to do. If you
want to stay here that’s up to you. No doubt Amlawdd will find you a bed.’

‘
Damn you,
Arthur!’ Gwenhwyfar ran to the door, shouting at
his departing back. ‘If
that is what you want, leave me here to
finish
Amlawdd my way!’ She pulled her sword from its scabbard,
waved the blade
in the vague direction of Amlawdd’s Hall.

Arthur halted in mid-stride, closed his eyes
and exhaled through his nose. He turned round, strode back to her, pushed
her inside the chamber and slammed the door shut
behind him.
‘You know damned well that is not what I want.’ He took her
angry face between his hands, tilted his head on one side and
suddenly smiled. ‘Mithras but you are beautiful
when you
glower like that!’

‘Don’t try to sweet talk me, Pendragon!’
Indignant he put his hand on his heart. ‘Me?
Sweet talk you? You’re too bad-tempered for that, my lass!’ He was winning her
round! He breathed a sigh of relief. Blood, that
had been a close
one! He placed a light kiss on her cheek, left her a
moment to fetch her cloak and draped it around her shoulders. ‘Brigid has told
me everything we need to know, Cymraes, but she is a
cunning cow, she’ll only tell on her terms. And she is very
jealous
of you.’ He spread his hands, offering peace. ‘I am with
Brigid, what, once a year?’ A small lie would not
do harm. ‘She
has to live with the knowing you have me all the rest of
the nights.’ Swallowing her pride, Gwenhwyfar asked, ‘She told you of Ider?’ Grim,
Arthur nodded.

‘Bad news?’ Again he nodded, but this time
reached out for her and held
her to him. He
laid his head against hers, stroked the softness of
her unruly hair. ‘He
was in love with you, wasn’t he?’ Only a slight pause before asking, Did you
love him back?’ She half laughed, began to reply, ‘Of course not, I ...’ then
realised what he had said. ‘Was? Arthur, you said was?’ She brought her head up
from his chest, searched his eyes, those
usually
unreadable, veiled eyes that kept his secrets to himself.
But not this
time; the hurt and unnecessary waste were there, plain to see. ‘Amlawdd had him
killed?’
For a third time, Arthur nodded.
He would not trust his voice
to answer. He had loved Ider too, though,
for all that was dear to him, he hoped her love was the same platonic affection
that they shared with all the men.