by Troy A Hill
Another monk stood behind the back benches, and gestured toward a set of racks next to him. Lecerf glared at him, then dropped the staff into an iron stand the monk pointed too. Once the guild symbol stood upright, Lecerf retreated to the bench where the Seeker sat. He glared over his shoulder at the monks near the door. Abbot Heilyn caught my eye and winked at me. It was good to have a friend in the abbot.
Cadoc, Emlyn and the Penllyn guards sat on the men’s side of the church, while Enid, Gwen and I took in the first row of the women’s side of the building. Abbot Heilyn, dressed in his vestments led his monks into the church. Despite the sad occasion for the mass, I enjoyed the Latin sung by the monks. Mass was about the only chance I got to hear the language from the land of my birth six centuries before.
The service itself was like many others I had sat through. I enjoyed listening to the Latin of my homeland again, despite the regional accent of the abbot. We sang prayers for the soul of Rhys, and the blessings of their god upon his soul. Emlyn and Cadoc stood as representatives of the Rhys’s kin. Each laid a solitary flower on his body.
After the prayers and blessings of the sacrament, Ruadh was the robed monk who brought a cup to the ladies’ side of the sanctuary. The men in the front row went first to the abbot to receive their small piece of bread. Another monk on their side of the sanctuary held the cup of wine. The monk tilted it for each to take a sip of wine, wiped the rim with a satin cloth, then turned the cup slightly before the next person came to sip from it.
Bechard and Lecerf sat in the second row, behind Cadoc and Emlyn, and the three guards in the place of family in the front row. Behind them sat the other monks of the abbey, about twenty, who sat with their heads bowed in silent prayer. The Witch Hunters rose as the guards returned to their bench. But the abbot motioned that Lady Enid, myself and Gwen should proceed next. The Witch Hunters sat back. Displeasure at their mundane treatment washed across their faces. Osbert, seated on the far side of the Seeker glanced around him and gave Gwen another wink. She ignored him as I glared his way as we rose.
The abbot stood in front of Rhys’ body. I let the abbot drop the bread into my cupped hands. In the few weeks I had been at Caer Penllyn, the monks who came to lead mass there used the ocular version. All the parishioners were included in the Eucharist by witnessing the monks and priests take the communion bread and wine. That version helped me maintain my charade. I couldn’t consume the bread, nor do more than wet my lips with the wine. My body would rebel against any substance other than blood. Despite the prayers of the priests, I had never found the wine to have been transformed into blood in the many masses I had attended over the centuries.
Ruadh had one hand slightly extended under the base of the chalice he held out toward me. I pretended to place the bread into my mouth. Instead, I palmed it, and pressed it into Ruadh’s hand under the chalice. His hand slid back. Then he raised the cup and tilted it enough to wet my lips. I inhaled the aroma of the cup. Apples mixed in with the grapes. Some of Bleddyn’s favoured wine. Definitely wine, not blood.
As I headed down the outside aisle after Enid. I kept my hands clasped before me, and my head bowed in prayer. For the first time in centuries I prayed. This time to The Lady to aid me in my charade before the Witch Hunters. Her silent presence warmed me, as I walked back to my seat.
The abbot must have motioned for the Witch Hunters to rise. Bechard stood, his eyes on the abbot, but Lecerf had his glare fixed on me until he saw me focus on him. He stumped to the front.
I was sad to hear the Latin of my youth fade away as the abbot ended the mass. We stood, and Emlyn with his three guards each took a corner of the litter Rhys lay on. They carried his body behind the abbot and the monks out the side of the church, and on into the cemetery behind the abbey’s buildings.
Enid stepped forward and took Cadoc’s arm. I was next in line, but motioned for Bechard and his servant to follow the young Lord and Lady. I wanted the guilders in front of me, not behind. Bechard stepped into the aisle. Lecerf followed.
The graveyard was behind the church, but still within the walls of the palisade around the abbey. A small gate set into the north wall led to the countryside and back toward Caer Penllyn.
The graveside service followed the formula I had become used to, with only minor variations. At one point in his prayers, the abbot motioned, and Cadoc and Emlyn both bent to toss earth into the grave.
After the abbot had finished the prayers, the Witch Hunters approached Cadoc. “We are very sorry for your loss,” Bechard said, a mournful tone in his voice. “May we inquire what had happened?”
Emlyn stepped in before the young lord could speak.
“My man was killed protecting Lord Penllyn, Lord Cadoc and the ladies.” He gestured toward Gwen and I.
“Was anyone else injured?” Bechard’s slimy tone once again reminded me of those merchants I had learned to avoid.
“My father is recovering from his wounds,” Cadoc volunteered. His eyes were narrowed. He shared Emlyn’s suspicion of the men before him.
“He will survive?” Osbert chimed in. I didn’t like his tone.
“Lord Penllyn is tough to kill,” Emlyn said, his face expressionless.
“What kind of beast?” Bechard asked, “attacked your man?”
“A bear,” Emlyn said. His voice devoid of emotion. “Lord Penllyn has a fascination with caves. He stumbled into the beast’s lair, and disturbed its rest. Lord Cadoc drove it away with his sword before it got to the ladies.”
“Ahhh, I see,” he said. “You and your sword are quite the legend, Milord. May the good Lord guide your hand as you wield it.”
A monk headed our way with sword belts draped on his arms.
Osbert was first to reach the monk. Emlyn, Cadoc and our guards and the other two guards followed. The abbot was urged us to head inside for the midday meal.
I glanced at the Witch Hunters guards. Osbert definitely had the grace of someone skilled with weapons. The other two I tagged as of routine skill. I had no idea where Osbert would have gotten his training. Local lord’s arms masters were nowhere near as skilled as Aemi. Emlyn was the only other student I knew of who had studied with my brother for more than a year or two.
If the Witcher challenged Emlyn today, this could get interesting.
40
Conversations
The abbot had set his baker loose for us. Monks set out bowls of stew, hunks of grilled meat, and platters of pastries and cakes. Once the abbot had said a blessing for the meal, we went to find seats in the dining hall. Even here, the Cymric custom of three or four around smaller tables held.
Cadoc and Enid sat with the abbot. He always had a grin on his pudgy face. Ruadh did a quick-step to reach the table where Gwen and I sat. He made it a beat before Osbert, the witcher guard.
Bechard and Lecerf quickly sat at a table with Enid and Cadoc. I felt for them. Those two guilders would be poor company through the meal. The rest of us sat in pairs around the hall and were joined by at least one monk per table. None of the monks sat with the Seeker and his assistant, nor with Osbert and the other two guilder guards.
Sunlight washed in through the open windows as the fog of the day lifted. The monks joked with each other as they sat and ate. I palmed the bits of pastry I pretended to eat and slipped them to Ruadh below the table.
The Seeker attempted to chat with Cadoc or Enid through the meal. I chuckled at the tactics of my young protégé.
“Your wedding day was most exciting, Lady Enid,” Bechard said, as he stared across his mug at her. “Did you expect that spectres would haunt your own wedding?”
“Lady Penllyn, Cadoc’s mother, surely you remember her,” she smiled vapidly at the guilder, her eyes wide and innocent. “She said she’s never seen a ghost before, but she has the most skilled seamstress. You must really meet Rhosyn sometime. We’ve sat for hours and just gossiped away while we embroidered our dresses. Never once talked about ghosts. She said my needlework was almost as good
as hers. Can you imagine?”
The Witch Hunter smiled painfully and shifted his attention back to her husband. Cadoc had returned from the table where the monks had set out even more food. He handed Enid a pastry on a wooden plate.
I pretended to sip at my mug of wine whenever a guilder glanced my way. After I had passed all of my pastry to Ruadh, all I had left on my plate was a few berries. I palmed them and passed them to Gwen when the guilders’ attention was elsewhere. Ruadh rose and headed off to help the monks as they cleared away the food at the end of the meal.
Gwen touched my leg and tilted her head toward the door to outside. We rose and took our plates and cups outside. One of the friendly brothers who stood near the food insisted we each take another pastry with us.
Once outside, we found a few chairs near a large oak in the courtyard. Gwen said nothing, but eyed me as I sat.
Before I could offer her my pastry, Ruadh joined us. He kept his broad back to the refectory door as he gently tipped my cup into his. A toss of his head and he drained it, then tied its handle to his belt. Three bites was all he needed to consume my pastry. He winked at Gwen.
“Monks are nae supposed to be greedy, so I kept my plate mostly empty,” he said. “Mair, knows me appetite, though.”
Gwen laughed.
“They’re coming out,” she said. “Just the guards for the Witch Hunters. The other two are still inside.”
“Let me take your plates back, miladies” Ruadh said as the guild guards wandered near. The rumble of his voice carried well in the courtyard. “Would you care for more wine?”
“Thank you Brother Ruadh,” Gwen said. “We’ve had enough for one afternoon.”
“Afternoon, milords,” he said with a polite tilt of his shaggy head as he passed the witchers. They clustered near us, but far enough to have a quiet conversation without being overheard.
“Ye lads want anything else today?” Ruadh asked. They shook their heads. “If ye be needin’ the privy, it’s near the stable.” He waved the plates and empty cups he held under their noses as he gestured directions.
Enid came out and joined us. She seemed to enjoy her adopted role as the vapid-headed bride. Osbert chatted with his men, but had pulled a belt knife out and used it to pick at his teeth. He kept glancing our way with a sly grin on his face. He levered himself up, like he was about to come our way.
“The men,” she said, “are in counsel with the abbot.” She glanced at guards as they drifted our way again. “Tis not matters for women, I know. Cadoc is such a dear, and doesn’t ask me to get too involved in those matters. I only have to manage the house.”
Osbert must have overheard her. He rolled his eyes, and settled back against the wall. He flipped his knife in double and triple spins from hand to hand.
“Go easy, dear,” Gwen whispered to Enid, when the guards were on the far side of the cloister. “A little goes farther than you expect.” Enid winked at her.
Gwen asked how the people in Meirionnydd were faring and shifted the topic to catch up on the gossip of Caerwyn and Nesta’s cantref. They rolled names around, and would add in references for me, and explain who the people were. In all honesty, I absorbed as much of their gossip as I had with Rhosyn several days before. That wasn’t much.
While we chatted, Emlyn’s three guardsmen came out into the courtyard. They positioned themselves near us in another patch of shade, but far enough away they could carry their own conversation.
The Witch Hunter guards saw them and ambled their way. After some idle conversation, Osbert asked, “How did your man die?” A sneer was on his face before our men even had time to answer.
“Bear attack,” Gerallt offered.
“Bears in these parts be nasty,” Osbert said. “Not everyone can handle a bear fight. Some folk just piss themselves and run. The brave ones remember to draw steel and fight.”
From his accent, I could tell the guilder’s swordmaster had come from the Saxon controlled areas east of the borderlands.
“Were you there too?” Osbert said, still flipping his blade.
“We all were.” Gerallt said, his tone flat. Afon and Siors eyed the two guards, but let Gerallt handle the conversation.
“The young lord drove the beast away by himself?” Osbert asked. “Surely he had help. He don’ be looking old enough to not piss himself.”
Afon’s hand drifted toward his sword hilt. The tawny haired guard was Emlyn’s best swordsman. I’d wager Afon over almost any other swordsman. But, I had no idea if Osbert was his equal, or even better. He could definitely flip a knife well.
“You were in the cemetery with us, and heard Lord Emlyn,” Gerallt said, and touched Afon’s elbow. Afon slid his hand back away from his hilt.
“And the renowned swordmaster of Penllyn wasn’t there? Or did he piss himself and run off?” Osbert and his guards chuckled. Our men stayed stoney faced. They didn’t take the bait Osbert threw at them.
“Then the young lord is brave and well trained,” Osbert glanced at his buddies and grinned. “Or it was just a bear cub he drove away.”
Afon’s hand drifted again toward his sword hilt as his face reddened. Osbert locked his eyes on Afon as his own hand slid across his belly, near, but not on, the pommel of his main sword.
“Perhaps that was it,” Gerallt laughed. He touched Afon’s elbow in warning again. Afon dropped his hand to his side. “A bear cub. It was dark, and we were outside the cave for most of the fight.”
He nodded his head toward the Witch Hunters as he stepped past them. Osbert chuckled and kept his eyes on Afon.
“C’mon lads,” Gerallt said. “Let’s check the horses.”
Osbert flipped his knife after them, so it twanged into the soil of the courtyard. Afon paused and looked back, but Gerallt had a hand on his arm.
The guilder glanced our way. Probably looking for Gwen’s reaction to his bravado. Our eyes met, so I smiled at him. A cold, hard smile. Enid chose that moment to go vapid again.
“Mother says someday I will understand, but I still don’t know why horses have to be so tall. They’d be much easier to get on if they were shorter.”
The Witch Hunter shook his head, then motioned his companions toward the other side of the courtyard.
Bechard and Lecerf exited and joined their two guards in the courtyard. The monks brought their horses in from the stables. As the guilders passed through the gates, Ruadh motioned us inside.
Cadoc had come out to meet us. Gwen and I both chuckled at Enid as she made her expression go vapid one last time for us. Cadoc looked puzzled.
“Your darling wife plays the empty headed bride well,” I said.
“I wondered what had come over her at the meal,” he wrapped his arm around her as they entered ahead of us.
“Mother would do that,” she said, “whenever father met with one of the other Lords, one who negotiated unfairly. She made them think she was vacant minded and they would try to get her to let information slip that might help then. She learned a lot about what the other lord’s intentions really were.”
“Did you learn anything?” he asked.
“Only that the guards don’t believe you ran that big nasty bear off all by yourself.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him and donned her vacant expression again. Cadoc leaned in and kissed her forehead as they walked us back toward where the others were.
The Abbot and Emlyn were in his study, in the back of the Chapter House, the part of the abbey where the monks met for their lessons and other gatherings. His study was as plain as his attire was, with only a few furnishings and several chairs in a semi-circle. An unshuttered window behind his work table let the daylight into the chamber. The day was as bright as the abbot’s smile. He rose as we entered.
“Blessings to all of you,” he said in his jovial demeanour. “I pray that our unexpected guests did not inconvenience you too much?”
Gwen shook her head.
“I will have my monks keep their eyes and ears open.” He said.
“Their guild activities are not welcome in the church territory I am responsible for, and I tolerate them only as long as I find nothing in their behaviour to evict them.” I decided I really liked our abbot.
We didn’t stay long after that, and by the time we made it back to the covered cloister around the open courtyard our horses stood waiting.
The monks had placed a small stool near each of the horses for Gwen, Enid and I. Enid glanced at Gwen and I as we swung into our saddles.
“I can’t believe how tall these horses are,” Enid said. She wore her vapid expression again. Gwen and I laughed while the men glanced around uneasily and tried to understand the joke.
41
Awakenings
“Lady Mair,” Haf said as she reached for the mugs, “you’ve hardly drank tonight. And I just brought more ale for all of you.”
“Here, let me have that,” Ruadh’s arm was out toward my cup. I passed it over. He drained it in one gulp. His face soured.
“Lass, you be trying to kill me. That was water!”
Emlyn chortled and almost dropped his mug. I was pleased to see Emlyn smile.
“Here lass, put some ale in there for her Ladyship,” Ruadh said and handed my mug to Haf. “Just in case ya don’t drink yours tonight, I be here to help you,” he said with a wink at me.
Gwen and Rhian waited until after the evening meal was cleared before they woke Bleddyn. Those two, along with Cadoc and Enid were upstairs while the rest of us waited in the great hall for news of how Lord Penllyn was once he awakened.
“Surly,” Emlyn said. “My brother will be surly and grump that we kept him asleep when there was work to be done.” He waved toward the empty chair closest to the fire in the hearth. Bleddyn’s favourite. “But, we’ll need to keep his arse planted there, or in his bed for the next month. No matter how surly he gets.” I grinned and pretended to sip from the mug of ale Haf had left me.
