Shadow of Stone (The Pendragon Chronicles) (74 page)

Yseult took her cape from the servant and fastened it around her throat. "I will not try to test your theory, for fear you are right."

* * * *

It was nearly the Christian holiday of Christmas before Cador and Yseult made their way north to Ragnell's seat of Caer Camulodon. Arthur still lived, but he was not well enough to travel, and Cador had become impatient to pay respects to his friend's grave — and see to the erection of his monument. He was confident Arthur would continue to recover without Yseult to look after him; he still had Brangwyn at his side, after all.

Now they stood at the highest point of the hill-fort, with an impressive view of the town and the old Roman fort below, all peaceful in snowy white. In the south, the first snow had soon melted, but here it came past a man's ankle.

Ragnell had chosen a good spot for Gawain's resting place. The standing stone they erected would be visible for miles.

A monument worthy of a great warrior.

Epilogue

There is a grave for March, a grave for Gwythur,

A grave for Gwgawn Red-sword;

A mystery to the world, the grave of Arthur.

"Stanzas of the Graves,"
Black Book of Carmarthen
(Anonymous)

Fighter that he was, Arthur lingered through the winter and on into the spring. Even when they removed from Dyn Tagell to Dyn Draithou, he survived the journey. Yseult and Cador were beginning to hope the Dux Bellorum might recover after all. But then when the peonies began to bloom in early summer, his condition took a turn for the worse.

When Arthur grew so weak he could barely eat a simple soup, they summoned Bedwyr, Ginevra, and Kustennin.

Although he had to cross the Sabrina estuary, Arthur's closest surviving companion Bedwyr arrived first, followed a day later by Kustennin. The last to arrive was a messenger from Ginevra, bringing her regrets that since she did not believe Arthur cared to see her again, she would not force the monks of Illtud's monastery to give up all their fighting men just to accompany her to her former husband's side.

One evening, just after dinner, as they were reluctantly discussing whether Arthur should be laid to rest on the summit of Ynys Witrin, where his spirit would have a view of much of Southwest Britain, the door of the hall blew open, bringing in a cool evening breeze.

"What is this?" Taliesin said, rising and stepping forward. Near him, Yseult too rose.

Nimue entered the hall of Dyn Draithou, the ghost of Myrddin trailing behind her.

Of course, Myrddin was not a ghost in the same sense that Drystan was. Yes, they had all presumed Myrddin dead, and perhaps he had been; nonetheless, he had a physical presence which all could see. But physical presence or not, he was still a ghost of the bard and druid and wise man he'd once been.

Myrddin was the first to speak. "Nimue has something to say to you all. Listen to her, please — I must save my strength. But this much I can tell you: Arthur must be brought away." And then the ancient magician let himself fall into a chair and closed his eyes.

All of them stared, unable to believe their eyes.

"Is it truly the famous Myrddin?" Taliesin asked, wonder in his voice.

Nimue nodded. "Myrddin was enjoying the sleep he deserved after decades spent in the service of Britain. But then we felt that Arthur was about to leave this world, and we set off to ensure that justice would be done to his spirit."

"Do you think we are incapable of that?" Bedwyr asked angrily. "It was you who stole Myrddin away from him."

Myrddin sat up a little straighter. "No one stole me. I left."

"You would give Arthur a fine warrior's grave," Nimue said. "Just as Gawain had. Just as Cai had."

"Just as so many others had," Cador murmured.

"Precisely. But you all know, Arthur is more than any of them."

No one contradicted her.

The ghostly Myrddin let his gaze sweep the room. "The spirit of Arthur must live on. If you give him a grave, people will not believe he can return."

"Yes," Taliesin said, nodding slowly.

Yseult glanced at the young bard. "You have your part to play too."

Nimue smiled. "It would be a good start."

"Come," Yseult said. "I will bring you to Arthur."

Yseult led the way to the house where she had been tending the Dux Bellorum. When they entered, they heard very inelegant snoring.

Myrddin shuffled forward, Nimue at his side. "Arthur," he said, his voice much more like that of the great druid they had once known. "You must awaken."

Arthur opened his eyes and stared up at his one-time advisor. "Myrddin."

"You must come with us now."

"But he cannot be moved," Bedwyr protested behind them.

The Dux Bellorum glanced at his old friend with a hint of a smile. "Oh, but I think I can. Humor me, Bedwyr."

Arthur turned back to Myrddin. With Nimue beside him, lending him her strength, Myrddin no longer seemed quite so ghostly.

Bedwyr strode across the room and began to rummage in Arthur's things. He pulled out the sword Ambrosius Aurelianus had given his nephew so many years ago and handed it to the Dux Bellorum.

"Don't forget this."

Arthur took the sword. "Let us go, then."

This time, no one protested.

A litter was prepared; a cart would jolt too much. There was no question of Myrddin helping carry it, but Taliesin volunteered to go along and take part of the burden.

It would make an excellent story someday.

They all accompanied the small party down the ramparts and to the road. Arthur smiled. "It is good to be going somewhere again." He twisted his head to look at Bedwyr and Kustennin. "Watch over Britain."

Goodbyes were said, and the four figures headed north, their pace slow, Myrddin with the shuffling gait of an old man, Nimue and Taliesin carrying the litter. Evening fog began to curl around their feet, teasing at the hem of Yseult's gown and dancing with Riona, who laughed in delight.

Cador looked at his wife. "Is this your doing?"

She shook her head, the hint of a smile on her lips. "Not this time."

He put his arm around her and hugged her to his side, suddenly desperate to feel her physical presence. She laid her head on his shoulder, and he turned her face up to kiss her tenderly.

When he glanced back at the departing figures, they were far away.

Those remaining watched until the distant party was no more than a hint of movement in the swirling mist. Then they turned and walked back to the safety of Dyn Draithou.

END

Author's Note

Much of the inspiration for
Shadow of Stone
comes from less well known Arthurian tales and traditions, in particular the earliest pseudo-historical references to Arthur such as those in Nennius and Geoffrey of Monmouth. A number of figures in my narrative were taken from the only contemporary document surviving from sixth century Britain, St. Gildas's
On the Ruin and Conquest of Britain
. Further characters have been drawn from saints' lives, royal genealogies, and Welsh narrative tradition.

In these versions of Arthur, Medraut (the Welsh name for Mordred) was Arthur's nephew, not his son, there is no mention of incest between Arthur and his sister (whose name was Anna), and it is Medraut with whom Arthur's wife elopes and not Lancelot (who does not exist in the body of Welsh Arthurian literature). It is this tradition I have mostly chosen to follow rather than the later one, which has been the basis for so many retellings already.

The canonical body of Arthurian tales in our era goes back to the reworking of earlier legends and accounts often considered history by the authors of the High Middle Ages, in particular Chrétien de Troyes. Chrétien is the first known source we have for both Lancelot and Camelot; his French renderings of the original Celtic names are often still used as well. The chivalric version of Arthurian society created by the authors of the Middle Ages was reflected in the most influential work of Arthurian literature in English, Sir Thomas Malory's
Morte d'Arthur
.

In this novel, I have tried to create a coherent whole out of scraps I discovered on the far side of the chivalric tradition. Not all of my plot threads are to be found there, however; for example, the Welsh Triads claim that Arthur had three wives, all named Gwenhwyfar. That would have been a bit much for my narrative, which is why I decided on two, one Gwenhwyfar and one Ginevra. I have also made use of less well-known tales from the continental tradition. The story of Cai and Arthur's son Loholt is derived from an anonymous French Arthurian romance of the thirteenth century,
Perlesvaus
. Here too, however, I have not followed the source religiously; instead, it served me as inspiration for an important twist in my own version of the events leading up to Camlann. One of my Clarion instructors, Paul Park, told us that when basing fiction on myths or legends or older works,
make it your own.
Over time, those words have become something of a mantra for me.

There will probably be any number of readers for whom I have made it too much my own. But I like to imagine that if there ever was a Britain in which a Dux Bellorum by the name of Arthur led men named Cador and Bedwyr and Cai to battle, it might even have been a little like the world I have created in
Shadow of Stone
.

I would like to thank the wonderful people who helped me in various stages during the creation of this book. My beta readers gave me excellent feedback on the first complete draft: Elisabeth Hartel, Katrin Somers, Britta Mack, Alex Mack, Debbie Ploss, Claudia Hagemann, Susanne Bosch-Abele, Anna Ivey, Beate Schütz, and Helen Moll. Tremendous fellow writers from the Villa Diodati workshop provided critiques of individual chapters and the outline: Aliette de Bodard, Nancy Fulda, Ralan Conley, Stephen Gaskell, Sara Genge, Jeff Spock, Floris Kleijne, Deanna Carlyle, and Rochita Loenen-Ruiz. Other critique partners who provided feedback include Pete Aldin, Tim Brommer, Phillip Spencer, Kathryn Allen, and Shiloh Carroll. Thanks also to my copy editor Lyn Worthen of Camden Park Press for being able to fit the final manuscript into her busy schedule. I want to thank you all for making
Shadow of Stone
a much stronger story than it would have been without your input. Finally, without the support in every phase and aspect of the writing from my husband Christian Schmidt, it is unlikely this book would ever have been written. Thank you again, my dear.

Glossary

Ard Ri - Irish High King

Atrium - The open central court in a Roman house

Ban file - Wise woman

Century - A group of originally 100 legionaries in the Roman army, later reduced to 80 men

Civitas (pl. Civitates) - Roman city with administrative function

Durotriges - A tribe of eastern Dumnonia; kingdom, Dortrig

Dux Bellorum - Leader of battles

Eriu - Ireland

Erainn - Irish

Feadh Ree - The oldest race in Ireland, the ones who were there before the arrival of the Gaels. Many of them have powers the Gaels do not possess, and as such, they enjoy great respect, even though the Gaels hold most of the political power now. People with blood of the Feadh Ree make up a large proportion of the druids and bards of the land.

Fianna - Powerful bands of warriors in old Ireland

Fili (plural filid) - Umbrella term for the wise men of Eriu (Ireland), including druids, bards, ollamh, and brehon

Garum - A salty fish sauce used for seasoning

Imbolc - Fertility festival celebrating the first signs of spring at the beginning of February

Laigin - The Gael tribes of the southeast, traditional enemies of the Ulaid.

Medb - Legendary Irish warrior queen

Morrigu - Celtic goddess of war and death

Ogham - Irish alphabet, scratched into wooden sticks or the edge of stone

Otherworld - The mysterious realm of the gods and the Feadh Ree, often seen as a paradise of eternal youth.

Patria - Fatherland

Principia - Headquarters in a Roman fort

Protector - Leader responsible for the defense of a particular region in Britain

Rath - A royal seat, usually a hill-fort with earthwork ramparts.

Romanitas - The spirit and ideals of Rome in everyday life; the advantages of a civilized Roman way of life

Samhain - Irish celebration bringing in the dark half of the year

Sidhe - "Of the hills"; another term for the Feadh Ree, emphasizing their dwellings in the magic hills that are often seen as doors to the Otherworld

Stola - A Roman women's garment

Torc - A circular neck or arm ring

Tuath - Tribe or sept (plural tuatha)

Tuatha Dé Danann - The tribes of the goddess Danu; the "political" organization of what is left of the Feadh Ree. While they hold only small, scattered seats between the areas held by the larger Gael tribes, their political clout is much more far-reaching as a result of the mythical place they have in the mind of the Gael people, their conquerors. (Short form: Tuatha Dé)