Shadow of Stone (The Pendragon Chronicles) (53 page)

Ginevra embraced her as well. "We hope you will be comfortable here in Moridunum. If you change your mind and want to move to Caer Leon, you are welcome at any time."

"Thank you," Ygerna said graciously. "But my daughter prefers not to live in a garrison town."

A little behind Arthur stood Kustennin with Arthur's cousin Modrun, two people who had no reason to be here other than as members of Arthur's party. But since Loholt's death, Kustennin had advanced from standard bearer to a minor general in Arthur's forces, almost like a substitute son. Medraut didn't understand how an untried youth had come so far in such a short time. Perhaps because Kustennin and Loholt had been friends? It was a good thing Medraut had planned for more than one eventuality.

Then Anna too was assisted to the docks, followed by Medraut's young son Melehan. Medraut took Melehan up in one arm and laid the other around his mother. His son squirmed, uncomfortable, obviously wanting be put down, and Medraut obliged.

"It is good to see you, Mother," Medraut said, kissing her cheek. "I'm glad you are safely away from the fighting."

"As am I," Anna said with a sigh. "I only wish Budic could have come with us. The barbarians are set to overrun Armorica!"

"Father had to remain behind to see that they do not," Medraut said as gently as he could. "And we will join him and the other kings of Armorica as soon as possible."

Which would be too soon for his plans. Events were unfolding more quickly than Medraut had anticipated; he would have to speed up his preparations, make a number of adjustments. Before he left with Arthur's forces, he would have to send messengers to Cerniw and Vectis. It would not be a good idea to try and maneuver his way into staying in Caer Leon, with the kingdoms of his father Budic and his grandfather Hoel at risk.

But once in Armorica, he might well be able to find an honorable way to return to Britain and move forward with his backup plan of mobilizing nearby discontented kings. A good leader was able to quickly change tactics, and Medraut had long been following multiple strategies. He would be quite capable of adjusting his plans, especially with a substantial part of the armies of Britain soon across the ocean, fighting on the border between Armorica and Gaul.

Yes, he would have to move sooner than expected, but it could still turn out to be perfect. Medraut barely suppressed an inappropriate grin when he embraced his grandmother Ygerna.

Chapter 24

The three Faithless Wives of the Island of Britain:

The three daughters of Culfanawyd of Britain:

Essyllt Fair-Hair (Trystan's mistress),

and Penarwan (wife of Owain son of Urien),

and Bun, wife of Fflamddwyn.

And one was more faithless than those three:

Gwenhwyfar, Arthur's wife, since she shamed a better man than any of them.

Trioedd Ynys Prydein
(The Welsh Triads)

The passage to Britain was rough and perhaps risky, but Yseult had not wanted to wait in the port of Inber Da Glas for the next ship. Waiting might have been more sensible, but something pushed Yseult on, told her she needed to hurry. She didn't understand what the feeling meant, but if it came from her power of knowing, then it was best she heed it.

She hoped there was nothing the matter with Cador.

The ship on which she'd found passage was headed for Abona — not her destination, but at least it was only a short boat trip across the Sabrina Estuary to the port at the mouth of the River Usk. Yseult spent the night in an inn and took the ferry the next day. From there, her party took a smaller boat up the river. By the time she reached Caer Leon, it was May — over a year since she'd last seen Cador.

When she stepped off the boat, the garrison town felt strangely empty, without the bustle Yseult was used to. Her heart sank — she was too late. She still did not know why, but the answers would lie within the thick Roman walls. Riona squirmed and whimpered in her arms, and Yseult laid her on her shoulder, bouncing her gently as she approached the gates of the city with her men-at-arms. The guard on duty recognized her and waved her and her men through, although she thought his eyes widened a bit at the sight of the babe on her shoulder. She had no interest in delving into his thoughts to see if she was right.

"What news?" she asked the guard. "It appears many of the fighting forces are gone."

He nodded. "The Frankish king Chlodovech is advancing on the British kingdoms of Armorica, and Arthur has gone to Gaul to help defend them."

With a sinking feeling, Yseult led her small party to the principia. Within the walls, Caer Leon was livelier than without, but the ratio of men to women had been reversed from what it usually was. Was it at all possible that Cador was still here? No, of course not. If Arthur needed him, he would go — as would Kustennin.

She would just have to pray that they survived this campaign.

When she arrived in the courtyard of the principia, Gareth came out to greet her. At least that: Arthur had left an honest man in charge of Caer Leon.

Gareth took both her shoulders in his hands, smiling broadly. "Yseult! We've been worried about you — the news from Eriu has not been good. And with a babe! Yours?"

"Yes. Meet Riona," she said, shifting the baby in her arms and pushing the blanket back from her face. "Cador is finally a father. But I assume he is gone with the rest?"

Gareth sighed. "I'm sorry, Yseult. He left for Armorica with Arthur's troops a week ago." He explained the increased threat from Chlodovech that had forced Arthur's mother and sister to flee to safety across the sea — and had made it imperative that the armies of Britain go to their help. "With sea passage still so unreliable, they took the shorter crossing from the port south of Durnovaria."

"And Kustennin?"

"He too went with them."

As she had suspected. "You are surprised about the babe. I take it Cador never received my missive telling him of her birth?"

Gareth shook his head. "No, he's had no news from you since last summer. We've all been worried." Gareth graced her with his wide, good-natured smile. "I can hardly tell you how good it is to see you whole and safe. And with a beautiful new baby!" He tickled Riona's cheek, and she responded with a gurgle of pleasure, very near a laugh.

Normally Yseult loved it when her daughter made sounds so close to laughter, but this time she found herself pressing her eyes shut with thumb and forefinger. Cador had gone to war without knowing she would return, without knowing he was a father.

He might never see his daughter.

"May I take her?" Gareth asked, his voice gentle, his mind full of sympathy.

Yseult dropped her hand and opened her eyes again. "Certainly," she said, handing him the little girl. "Is there any way you could have a message sent to Armorica — that has a good chance of arriving?"

Gareth took the bundle with a wide grin. "Of course, Yseult." He jiggled Riona, making her smile; she was completely ignorant of the things that troubled her mother.

Lifting Riona to his shoulder, he turned back to Yseult. "This babe is at least as important as any report I need to send Arthur now. What a lovely little girl! I will finish my next report tomorrow and send a special messenger."

Riona's high, hiccoughing sounds of happiness were catching, and Yseult found herself smiling despite her disappointment.

"Thank the gods for children," Gareth said quietly, as if he had read her mind.

"Amen," Yseult said, surprising herself with her use of a Christian response. They both laughed.

An experienced parent, Gareth shouldered the baby with no recognizable worries as to Riona's fragility. For her part, she seemed very happy in the arms of an experienced father, even if she had never seen him before. "Come, let us go to the audience chamber of the principia, and I will have refreshments brought. There is much that has happened since you left, much you need to know."

Yseult nodded and followed him, her worry returning. The tone of his voice promised no good news.

* * * *

Shortly after she had settled down with Gareth in the small audience chamber for a light repast, Modrun arrived.

Yseult rose, and they gave each other the kiss of peace. "I thought I felt your presence," Modrun said. "I'd like to invite you to stay with me while you are in Caer Leon."

"I would be glad to — as long as you also have room for my little girl." Neither she nor Cador had ever kept a residence in Caer Leon, so they either had to take rooms or were dependent on the hospitality of others when they were here.

Modrun's eyes widened and she finally noticed the baby asleep on the couch beside Yseult. Before she could say anything, Ginevra hurried in as well. "Yseult!" Ginevra took her in an enthusiastic embrace. "It is good to see you again — we were all so worried about you! Tell me you will not be leaving again soon — everything is so empty and bleak here with nearly half the population of Caer Leon gone."

"I don't know," Yseult said. "Enid will want to see her granddaughter as soon as possible, I am sure."

"Enid — granddaughter?" Then Ginevra too noticed the sleeping baby, and she hugged Yseult again. "Oh, I am so happy for you! Would you and your little girl like to stay with me while you are in Caer Leon?"

Yseult shook her head. "I'm sorry, I've already accepted an invitation from Modrun."

Ginevra's face fell for a moment, but then she smiled again. "It is no matter. You will come see me every day while you are here. Do say you will stay for a while!"

Yseult reached out with her mind to Modrun; the older woman hoped too that Yseult would stay, if for very different reasons. She thought Yseult might be able to take Ginevra's mind off of Medraut. So it had come as Yseult had feared before she left for Eriu: the two were having an affair.

But more importantly, Modrun feared Arthur's nephew was plotting to use his influence over Ginevra against the Dux Bellorum.

* * * *

That evening, after an afternoon spent visiting and showing off the baby, Yseult was finally able to accompany Modrun to her house in Caer Leon. Yseult was given what surely had to be the largest guest room.

"It's for two people," Modrun said with a smile.

One of the servants found a crib for Riona somewhere, which Yseult had set up in a corner of the room. She would have to send for some things from Lindinis if she was going to stay here for any length of time, but for now she had to make do with borrowed goods.

She was bone tired, and once she had her daughter retired, she lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Yseult didn't know what to think. She had seen the affair between Medraut and Ginevra coming, but she was the last person who could chastise someone for adultery. Besides, she had long pitied Ginevra for the respectful disinterest with which Arthur treated his wife.

But.

On the one side was Arthur's neglect of Ginevra; on the other, there was Arthur himself, one of the best and fairest men she knew, the man besides Ambrosius Aurelianus who was responsible for banishing the threat of the encroaching Saxons — but also a man at times horribly incompetent on an personal basis. Arthur's talent and passion lay in war, battle strategy, and political developments. And as beautiful and good-natured as Ginevra was, conversations of a political nature held little interest for her, and battle strategy none at all. Given Arthur's interests, it was no wonder they had lived all these years side-by-side without becoming much more than acquaintances who occasionally slept together.

Yseult sighed and sat up. Obviously, she was not going to be able to sleep yet. She might as well make use of the time by writing the letters she needed to write: to Enid, to Brangwyn, and first and foremost, to Cador.

* * * *

Yseult to Cador, greetings.

I am writing this in Caer Leon, where I arrived today, only to find you gone, on campaign to Gaul to protect Armorica from the Frankish conqueror. I so wish you had still been here when I arrived; I heard from Gareth that you have not had any of my letters to you since last summer, before the civil war among the Laigin broke out — and I was trapped in the middle. But I am safe now, and I will tell you more of that when we see each other again.

The news I have is great. She sleeps in the corner of the room, and her name is Riona. Your daughter, Cador. I am sorry I did not write you of my pregnancy last summer, but I did not want to worry you, knowing how you felt about the risk of having a child. I swear, I did not intentionally become pregnant without your knowledge. I suspect, given my age and some midterm bleedings I interpreted wrong, I grew lapse in taking the herbs I needed. I will not ask your forgiveness, because the result of my mistake is a lovely baby girl who is as healthy as I could wish, especially now that I am nearing forty years of age.

I pray to all the gods of my tribe, and yours, and Britain's — even the Christian if it helps — that you will return home safely to experience the joy of holding a child of your own in your arms. You were always so good with the young ones; your gods cannot deny you this now, or so I tell myself.

I will do my best to keep an eye on developments in Caer Leon while I am here; Modrun tells me that you are informed.