by Troy A Hill
No… it was there. Just within the shadows. Two yellow eyes caught the sunlight and flashed at me. Then, suddenly, it was gone. As if the land had swallowed it.
The mists closed about me again. I flashed through the keep at Caer Penllyn. Two figures were dressing. Behind them, stood a mussed bed. They leaned in for a hug, and a kiss with lingering passion. The greying blonde and auburn hair told me I was seeing the end of intimacies between the noble ladies. A dive from there down into the cottages and I found another time of passion. Newlyweds.
The unseen guide pulled me into another of the cottages. Emlyn lay asleep in bed. The blanket covered only his legs. The smooth skin of his chest, hard and chiselled with lithe muscles rose slowly with each breath. The cottage smelled of oil and steel. His belts, each with a scabbard hung from a chair. Sword hilts rode above the well-worn leather. Each within easy reach and angled for a quick draw. A wooden work table and chair were off to the side. Whetstones, rags, and pieces of leathers were scatted haphazardly across the table. A single blade lay bare on a cloth. It shone with fresh oil. The blade was well cared for, as was the scabbard next to it on the table.
My soul gave a small shiver as I saw the sword. My dream fingers curled as though they held the blade. A sigh from the bed drew my attention. Emlyn rolled onto his side. One hand reached for his sword. His eyes darted about the room, alert.
Then the raven pulled me back into the mists above.
I didn't have time to ponder as we flew above the landscape again. This time, one area stuck out. Something wasn't right here. The life and vitality of the land were gone. The area wasn't large, but it was though the living energy had been sucked away. I realised this was important and tried to steer us back over the area. The raven led me on one more circle over it. I couldn't tell much of what discoloured the vegetation. I caught a glimpse, however, of eyes in the shadows of the tree line. The same yellow eyes from before. Searching the sky.
Back into the mists. Suddenly, I was drifting down into a familiar setting. The Gwyddbwyll board. I held two swords and wore a black dress. Silver pawns surrounded me. Six of them stood on the golden squares. Beyond them, the mists closed in, billowing in around us.
The familiar growl and clank of a chain sounded off to my left. The blades in my hands ready. One in front, in a low guard. The other high and back. Ready to strike. The growl drifted toward my right. I turned with it. A gasp, a cry of pain to my left. My head whipped toward the noise.
Only five pawns remained. I smelled blood. A puddle of crimson stained the farthest square to my left. More growls sounded in the mists.
“Mair?”
I felt Gwen’s presence reach out to me. As I allowed my body to rise through the earth, I saw her there, standing before me in the grove. She reached down with both hands. I took them, and let her pull me upright.
“How was your sleep?”
"Interesting," I said and pulled her toward the fallen log. I shared my experience with her once we had sat. I decided not to mention the intimacies I had seen in the keep or the cottage. But the story of the beast and the missing pawn was more than enough to share. Gwen listened and tapped her lips with a finger as she contemplated what I had described.
"A predator, and a section of blight?" she mused as she stared off down the hill. "The Lady has given you hints, but nothing concrete. Did you get a sense of where either was?"
I shook my head. “I don’t know the lay of the land very well,” I said.
“Did I miss anything while I slept?”
“Enough of the wedding guests have departed,” she said, “that Rhian has made a cottage in the main yard available for us. I’ve already moved our bags over there.” She paused and gave me a little, teasing grin. “And, you have an admirer. Emlyn stopped by the cottage while I was there. He left a package for you.”
“What did I do now?” I asked as a smile grew on my face. The passion of our dance this morning still lingered. My finger twitched and curved, at just the mention of his name, as if I were holding swords, ready for another dance.
“You’ve awoken a fire in the Penteulu, dearest,” she said. “You and he are two sides of the same soul.”
I felt myself starting to blush at her insinuation that Emlyn and I were to become passionate.
“Come,” she said and pulled me up off the log. “You might not be hungry yet, but I am. Let’s get some food for me, and then I’ll show you the cottage and your gift from the Penteulu.”
5
A Request
Gwen and I found a quiet corner in the keep's main hall. A single girl sat and played the harp in the great hall this evening. With the sun still in the sky, I could feel my connection with The Lady alive and humming with magic. The goddess fed me enough energy that I didn't have to pull any from my blood-demon to walk in the daylight.
Emlyn strode into the hall. His twin belts wrapped around his waist, and the two blades, one long, one short hung at his sides. He had left behind his leather vest. This evening he wore a simple woollen tunic and linen trousers with leather boots. I watched him; the way he walked, fluid manner that he held his body. He filled his bowl with stew and poured a cup of ale, then sat with a couple of the other guardsmen.
Gwen elbowed me.
"Quit staring," she mumbled around a mouth full of food. I jerked my eyes off of Emlyn as she chuckled. I hoped she wasn't going to get jealous. Those whom I let get close to me always ended up being just one of several … what had Gwen called them? My donors. One person couldn't provide the blood I needed. I had to spread it out over several donors. I hoped she'd understand.
“He is a wonderful looking man, is he not?” she sent.
My only reply was to select a berry. I raised it to my open mouth, but let it roll into my hand. I moved my jaw as if I were chewing, but I discretely dropped the berry back on the plate. For the next few minutes, I made a point of not glancing in the direction of where the sword master sat.
I was surprised when I glanced back, and he wasn't at his table. I gave a little start a second later when he stepped up next to our table.
“Milady, did you receive the package”? Emlyn asked.
"Not yet, but Gwen said you had left it," I said and folded my hands in my lap. With him this close, I didn't want to continue my charade of eating berries or sipping the half cup of wine I had poured.
"Bleddyn is sending most of my men out to the various land holds tomorrow morning." He said. "I'd like to run a weapons drill for the folks in the fort tonight. Even the men in the teulu could use a refresher. It will be here in the great hall after the meal. I would be pleased if you were my partner in the demonstrations and sparing."
"Of course," I said without pause. "You honour me with your request."
“Be sure to check your cottage for the package. You will want it for the demonstrations.” Emlyn bowed to us. I wasn’t sure if I imagined it, or if his eyes had a bit of sparkle in them as he turned to leave. Was there something else there? Something different about the stone-faced Penteulu?
He stopped mid-rotation. He plucked a couple of my berries and tossed them into his mouth. He winked once, then spun and strode away. Gwen gave a little grin, then plucked another of her berries from her plate.
“I do believe you have an admirer, dearest,” she sent. I wasn't sure which of us admired the other more, he or I. My cheeks grew warm. I still had enough of Gwen's blood in me from my last meal to blush a bit. Fortunately, Gwen didn't seem the least bit jealous as Emlyn and I flirted.
A moment later, Bleddyn stepped up to our table. I hoped my complexion had settled down. I didn’t need him to know I was lusting after his brother.
“Milady Mair,” he said. “You have impressed my brother beyond expectation. Did you agree to his request?”
I felt my cheeks warm again. “Is that a problem? I could withdraw…” I stammered in reply
He waved off my offer. “No, no. You do us all an honour by dancing his sword dance with him.” The lord
sat on the open stool at our small table so he could lean in and speak quietly.
"About your comments on how the guild members buy eyes and ears; Rhian and I have been to all of the folk on the hilltop personally, and have let them know that any Guild money spread will earn their family an eviction. However, if they report when the guild approaches them, we will reward them.
"I hate to be so firm," he continued, "but I won't have our cantref torn apart by the guild and any suspicion or mistrust they sew. I'm sending riders out to speak to the landholders with similar instructions." His eyes drifted around the room. "I trust my people, I really do," Bleddyn said, then let his eyes drift to outside. "Our men are decent trackers. They'll also search for signs of this predator… bear… whatever it is that's killing our livestock."
“When will the first riders return?”
“At the earliest, four days,” he said. “Rhian has made you comfortable in the empty cottage?”
“Of course,” Gwen said. “We are most grateful for your hospitality.”
Bleddyn rose. He gave a quick bow and excused himself. He drifted from table to table and chatted with everyone from the kitchen maids to the landholders. I was impressed. He was so unlike many of the nobles I had encountered in my many years. I said so to Gwen.
“If he had more ambition, he could unite most of Britain,” she sighed. “But he doesn’t want the power. He is content where he is. The same with Caerwyn. They both love their people and the land. They are the true servants of The Lady.” She looked across the room at the Lord of Meirionnydd, who laughed as he sat with several of Bleddyn’s landholders.
“We could use another Arthur,” Gwen said, “but the land is not ready for so strong a presence. Perhaps…” she waved her hand at the room, “this is the future. Individual territories, each a power unto itself, finding the best way forward for that small collection of people. Just the amount of government that is needed for each area. Each government able to adjust to the needs of its people.”
She stared across the great hall, lost in her melancholy for a while. Once the room had begun to empty, and the kitchen girls began the cleanup, Gwen rose. "Let's go see what was in that package Emlyn left for you," she suggested.
Back in our cottage, I surveyed the bundle. It was as long as my arm, and that gave me an idea of what was inside. The outer layer, however, was a man's tunic and a pair of linen trousers. He probably borrowed it from one of the young men, not quite old enough for watch duty. But, I had worn men's' clothing for many years. That was just another validation that Emlyn and I knew the same sword master.
The clothing was wrapped around a sword and a leather belt. The blade was in a steel and leather scabbard. The grip of the pommel showed wear but in good shape. I pulled the blade out far enough to see the metal shine in the fading daylight that came through the window.
A simple note, written in Latin, read "A warrior should never be without arms." I passed the letter to Gwen.
“You do have an admirer, dearest.”
I remembered the hard, tight muscles of his chest and the speed of his movements. He never wasted his effort. Each step, each thrust of the blade, or parry or dodge was just enough to lead into his next action. I had been away from the practice floor too long. Could I get the rust out of my skills fast enough to keep up with his blade work? From what I had experienced this morning, his skills with the dance were among the best I had ever encountered.
There was just enough room in the cottage for me to draw the blade and practice a few of the slow, fluid movements that Emlyn had been trying to drill into his students earlier in the day. Gwen sat in a far corner, on one of the beds, and watched me.
“Wherever did you learn … what did Emlyn call it?”
"The dance of the blades…" I repeated the motions, as my muscles slowly began to remember the patterns. I shifted the conversation to our mind speak.
“One of my master’s children had left to study the blade,” I sent. "He travelled the world for over two centuries. He learned from the most accomplished fighters."
I stopped my dance, confident enough that my body would remember once I had more room to practice. I sheathed the blade and pulled the curtains closed. I began to undress so I could shift into the men's clothing.
“Aemilianus, my brother in the undead, rarely spent time at our master’s home. He was always off to learn more swordplay from another master he had heard of,” I explained, and draped the tunic over me while I told my story.
"Aemi took a liking to me from the first time we met. That was a few months after I had been brought over to the night side by our master. He showed me some of what he had learned from the Gauls in how they handled their weapons, as well as the Roman ways. I took to it immediately. After our master passed, we scattered. Aemi drifted around Europe, learning from the best swordmasters he could find. Every decade or two, he would find me and pass on what he had learned. He really enjoyed teaching me."
I tried several movements in my borrowed clothing and realised I would need another belt to hold the ensemble together. The leather one wasn't designed to keep the tunic stable. It was a fighter's belt, made to let the pommel of the weapon hang where it could be drawn quickly. Gwen sensed what I needed and rooted around in our bags. She passed me a woven one that would work. I wrapped it around my waist. Gwen had me stand in front of her so she could help me adjust both to my liking.
“You’ve worn men’s clothing before for fighting?” Gwen asked.
“Yes. When I helped Aemi at his academy,” I sent. "He eventually settled down and opened an arms training school near what is now the Frankish area. He convinced me to stay for a while. He said that if I would help him, become his star pupil, then he would be able to show, by training a woman…"
Gwen’s face crinkled as she rolled her eyes.
"I was happy to help my brother with his dreams to build an academy. No one else had such a business. Fighting masters were loyal to their lord. If Aemi could show the nobles of the land not only his skill with the blades but how the techniques could be taught, then the leading families would send their sons to him. I stayed on and taught the lessons with him. Men's clothing is much more suited to moving and fighting. There's less fabric in the way of my legs."
“Your brother’s school prospered?” Gwen asked.
“He was very successful after we had danced with the blades for the nobles of the land. I stayed with him for several years.” I sighed as I recalled my time with Aemi. "He honed my skills and taught me everything he could. I enjoyed our time together immensely. However, two of our kind together for so long is dangerous. In a city, we can easily hide how one of us feeds. But two of us is complicated. I moved on before it became a real problem. However, eventually, the Guild found us."
I bit my bottom lip, and let my gaze drift out the window. I was focused on memories, not on Penllyn outside the window. “Once we knew they had located and focused on us, I refused to go near him for fear that I would want to stay too long, and two of us feeding would draw unwanted attention to him.” My memories stirred a longing in me for Aemi again. I cupped my arms across my chest. Gwen slid her arm around my waist.
“Remember, if Emlyn allows you, you are to do what you need to secure another donor. You are right that I alone cannot give you all that you need.”
I searched her face. The feelings I had given into for her meant I didn’t want to share her with other lovers. But, we both knew that was next to impossible for me. With my undead nature, deriving energy from our shared pleasure, as much as the blood I took.
“You’ll not be jealous?”
“A bit,” she sent as she rubbed my shoulders. “but I knew that when I loved you, I had to accept what you are, and what that means. And you two are too evenly matched. Your souls speak to each other when you’re dancing. Seeing the two of you this morning, moving together as if you had one mind…”
I chuckled, as I remembered the few times I had to call on my unique abili
ties to evade his blade.
“It was magical to watch,” she continued. “The Lady would not have brought you two together if you were not meant to complement each other.”
She slipped her arm through mine. “Come dearest. Your dance partner awaits.
6
Demonstration
The evening mist raised its thin tendrils from the grassy hilltop as we made our way back to the main hall. Overhead the moon shed silver light upon the practice yard where I had danced the swords with Emlyn. Tonight, we were to be in the great hall to train his men.
The buzz of conversation reached our ears, even as we climbed the steps. I opened the door, and shifted to let Gwen step in first, but she would not have it.
“This is your night, dearest. Enjoy it.”
I almost gasped. The hall was full. People seated on benches and stools lined against the walls, stood as I stepped into the room. Above, on the balcony that hung around the great hall of the keep, even more folks sat along the railing, their legs dangling over the edge. Bleddyn and Emlyn stood in the centre of the room. The sword master gestured for me to join them on the floor.
Even the kitchen maids sat about the room and listened to what the Lord Penllyn said. All of the people on the hilltop were there for this demonstration.
“Evidently,” I sent to Gwen, “I’m more entertaining than a bard.”
“Enjoy your dance, dearest,” she sent back, as Bleddyn stepped off to the side. The swordmaster took over and began his lesson.
“Every time you repeat these moves, you train your mind and your body to remember them when you don’t have time to think.” Emlyn spoke in the language of the Cymry, but I repeated the words in my mind. Those words, albeit in a different languages, were ingrained in me after centuries of hearing and speaking them myself. Emlyn and I shared a teacher, my brother in the undead, Aemi. I helped him train his students so often, I knew the lessons by heart, no matter what language they were spoken in.
