by Troy A Hill
“The evidence is before you, milord,” I said.
Bleddyn chuckled, and Penda grinned. Lazlow stepped again, and the ball stayed right in front of him.
“Hilarious, milady,” Lazlow said and swatted at the orb. His hand passed right through it without even a ripple. Lazlow took two quick steps, then turned. The ball could almost keep up, and it drifted back into place in front of Lazlow’s nose a beat behind the lord’s movement. Penda chuckled.
Lazlow tried to return to his chair. The light stayed in his face, and he stumbled as he reached out to where he thought the chair was. He almost tripped over it in his agitation.
“Lady Mair,” Penda said, “I need his counsel.”
“Very well, Your Grace,” I said and waved the light ball so it rested above Lazlow’s head. It didn’t go away. I wanted him to have a reminder for a while longer. Seren’s snicker drifted across our mental link.
“Penllyn women are strong willed, Lord Lazlow,” Bleddyn said.
“That’s why you come to visit Mercia each summer, then?” Lazlow said, grinning. However, caution crept back onto his face.
“My friends,” Penda interjected, “I sense there is more to the story of these magic silver weapons.”
“They are not magical in themselves,” I said. “Someone made them with magic.”
“Guto, our smith,” Bleddyn added, “has been trying to unmake one since last fall. He cannot get his fires hot enough to melt the metal. I’ve seen him pull one such blade from a crucible that melted the best of his steel. The silver blade came out whole, not even red hot.”
“What trade do you desire for some of those weapons, my friend?” Penda asked. “How many and what kind can you spare?”
Bleddyn looked at me. I felt as though a pwca was jumping on my belly. I didn’t want those silver weapons out of Penllyn. Especially not while the Witch Hunters roamed Britannia with even more of the silver blades.
“Uncle says that we have a dozen seaxes we can spare from that lot,” Seren sent after a pause. “He wants to keep all the swords.” She paused, then added, “I’m sorry, Mair, I know you want them destroyed. But Uncle says you can’t be everywhere to fight every monster. We have to protect the people.”
Damn it! She and Emlyn were right.
“Emlyn might part with half a score of the seaxes,” I said.
Bleddyn kept his eyes on me. He knew how Gwen, Seren, and I communicated. He’d realise I was getting information from Seren and Emlyn.
“We can send a bird, or a messenger,” Penda said. “I’d like to get those blades here as soon as possible. Without that priest’s involvement.”
Penda didn’t realise it, but he was earning my gratitude by cutting the guild out of the preparations.
“What do we need to make your Roman warm floors?” Bleddyn asked me. He smiled, knowing he was buying my acquiescence. I wasn’t happy. However, I’d take the offer.
“Tile and concrete for the floors,” I said.
Penda looked puzzled at that.
“Ah, a hypocaust.” Lord Chamberlain grinned. “You must have travelled the continent, milady. I don’t recall any examples of that system in Meron.”
The spymaster’s revelation that he had already tracked down my titles from the continent didn’t surprise me. My hope was that he’d stopped with the most recent of them. Six centuries had given me many such titles.
“Hypocaust?” Penda asked.
“A Roman system used to heat public buildings, such as baths,” I said with a glance towards Lord Chamberlain. “Keep your fires under the floors and let the heat rise through the building while you use a chimney to move the smoke away from the living areas.”
“You’ll set fire to your buildings!” Lazlow declared. “We build with wood here.”
“That’s why the floors are stone, tile, and concrete,” I said again. “I asked my late husband to send his factors to research them. Meron was in the north of Francia. I dread a cold floor in the winter. The warmth is always by my head, and my feet get cold.”
“Ahhh…” Penda said, then he let his gaze slide to Bleddyn. “We can build a tileworks here in Tamworth. Would a season’s worth of tiles offset the cost of that much magical silver?”
“Perhaps,” Bleddyn said. “I’m not familiar with concrete construction. Do you have anyone here who we could borrow for a year to share their knowledge with my masons?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Penda said. “Concrete-making died out with the Romans here in Britannia. Lord Chamberlain?”
“None I am aware of, Your Grace,” he said. “I can inquire through my agents on the continent. But that might take several months.”
“I can share what I remember of the research and experiment until we find the right combinations.” I said. “You’ll need to build a large kiln to burn some lime.”
“We can do that on Penllyn land,” Bleddyn said. “Perhaps we’ll start with Caer Penllyn’s keep for these hot floors of yours.” He gave me a smile and patted my arm.
“Milady,” Lazlow’s voice intruded, “if you are done discussing how to warm your feet?” He pointed at the light above his head.
I laughed and waved at the ball. It drifted back towards me, and I poked it with my finger to make it disappear.
“Dearest,” Gwen sent, “I love you, but you have a knack for showing off when it’s not needed.”
23
A Crack in the Wall
Bleddyn and I stood outside his door, his hand on the latch. He turned before opening it.
“I’ll send Siors and the men back to Penllyn in the morning to fetch those seaxes for Penda,” he said. Although he kept his voice quiet, it still drifted in the empty hallway. “Perhaps the bird Penda and I sent will arrive to let Emlyn know to meet Siors as quickly as possible with them.” His smile was coy, but his eyes flicked towards the door to my room. Thea might be in the bed there. I doubted she was sleeping.
“Oh, I’m sure the bird will alert Emlyn in time,” I said. Seren had already let me know that Sawyl and a few men would ride out to meet Siors halfway. “I’d like Talian to stay here.”
“Enjoy your evening,” he said. Then he waited until I turned away before he opened his door. The lightest whiff of roses drifted from his chamber once more.
A few hours later, I eased out of bed. The sleep command I had left in Thea’s mind would dissipate in a few hours, about the time the sun rose. She’d have no idea I had used my undead nature to cloud her memory of our time entwined on the bed, body against body. Like the bite marks on her neck had already faded and healed, my undead magic helped me hide the wound where I had fed from her.
I didn’t need the lamp to see as I found my sword clothes. Tunic, trousers, and boots. My hand had just closed on Soul’s scabbard and belt when I heard something rub against the wood outside the window. I reached out with my mind, expecting to find another of Lord Chamberlain’s “ears”.
Instead I sensed nothing. No one there. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Like they had a year before when Onion Breath and Hunchback were pursuing me across Britannia.
I kept my scabbard, with Soul in it, in hand and rose as though I was heading towards the water basin on the small table. That let me step out of line from the window. I slid towards the shutters. Drapes hung across the inside of the window, and the shutters were barred from the inside. There were always cracks, though. I wrapped my fingers around Soul’s hilt, ready to pull it forth.
Was there something beyond the shutters? Something I could not sense? I paused and let my ears search the night. All I heard was Thea’s gentle breathing, along with that of Bleddyn and his companion in the next room. This late at night, Penda’s fort stood silent. The night was still too chilly for insects to be about.
The drape barely rustled as I eased it aside. I looked down through the slit at the bottom of the window. There was enough of a gap there for me to see the ground. Bare, rocky soil lay below. Nothing else. I could smell the soil an
d Thea’s own odours. Sweat mixed with the fun activities we had enjoyed earlier.
“You’re getting old,” I muttered to myself. “Witch Hunters in the compound, so now you’re paranoid.”
My connection to the goddess hummed. The sun crested the horizon. People would be up and moving about soon. For now, I and a few guards were the only ones awake.
The door to the weapons hall creaked open while I moved through the sword meditations. Talian, as expected, headed into the hall. He would wait, like he always did, for me to finish my set before he stepped onto the practice floor.
When I stopped and waved him out, he already had his blunt practice sword and buckler in hand.
“Good,” I said. “Let us start with the meditations we ran before Ludló and his men interrupted us.”
Talian hesitated. “Did you need me to stay here with you?” he asked. “Siors is taking the other men back to Penllyn this morning. Shouldn’t I go with him?”
I sent my mind around the practice hall. This early, no one else was here yet, not even Lord Chamberlain’s sets of ears.
“Yes, I need your help,” I said. “My diet…”
“Ah,” he said.
“Worried that you were getting passed over for duty because you’re not ready?”
Talian looked at his feet, his cheeks going scarlet. He nodded.
“I’d rather have you by my side as my friend,” I said. “Siors and his men can fetch the weapons Bleddyn is trading to Penda. Or did you want to spend a few days listening to them cry about how much coin they lost to Ludló’s men?”
“Not really,” he said, smiling. “We can continue training. Will I ever be as good as Afon? He tells me I have promise, but I’m not sure if he’s just being nice.”
“There are two traits I cannot teach you,” I said. “Talent and dedication. You dedicated yourself to our training.”
“But talent…?” He let his voice trail off.
“Right now, I’d call it ‘promise,’ not talent,” I said. “Part of dedication is continuing when you get bored or would rather go elsewhere. Siors and his only train as they are required.”
“They’d rather gamble than practice,” he said. “Afon will play their games once or twice, then spend the rest of the evening running drills with me. And Lord Cenric’s new men, they laugh at how we train. They’d rather spar with each other and hit the pells than run meditations.”
“We can discuss this later,” I said.
Something back in the armour storeroom had creaked. I sensed one of Lord Chamberlain’s watchers take a post there. I lowered my voice. “Remember, there are ears everywhere in Mercia.”
My back was to the armour room, so I winked at him and hid a gesture towards the room behind me, so only Talian could see it. His eyes went wide. After a beat, he nodded, understanding.
An hour later, I called a halt. Sweat ran down Talian’s face and stained his tunic.
“May I get water?”
“Please, and bring me a cup,” I said as I wandered over to lean on the railing that separated the practice floor from the long side of the hall. Benches stood along the wall. I leaned against the wooden rail. I could see the lone figure sitting in the shadows out of the corner of my eye, but I kept my gaze towards Talian. A fresh bucket of water stood at the far end of the hall. Wooden mugs hung from pegs on the wall above.
“You’re welcome to join us, Dunstan,” I said.
The figure in shadows jumped. “No thank you, milady,” his voice croaked.
“The way your two friends tease Talian about our meditations, I don’t blame you,” I said. Talian returned and passed a cup to me. I raised it to wet my lips. “They don’t understand a lot of what goes on around them, do they?”
“No, milady,” Dunstan said. “They’re not my friends anymore and don’t know what happened in that cave.”
Talian’s eyes darted into the shadows and noticed Dunstan there. He smiled and nodded towards Cenric’s son. He still had his cup in hand and took another swig from it.
“Can he come out and spar with us, Lady Mair?” Talian asked.
“I’ve already offered,” I said. “You’re welcome any morning while I’m here.”
“I’ll just watch,” Dunstan said. “There’s not much sense in learning how to fight that darkness if I can’t make my sword glow like you do.”
“Yes, that I cannot teach,” I said. “You’re welcome to come out if you change your mind.”
I passed my cup to Talian. He headed back towards the water station. Along the way, he drained it.
We continued to spar, and Dunstan watched. As did Lord Chamberlain’s man in the armoury. At one point I went to where Dunstan sat and asked him to pass me another of the small shields. I wanted to run Talian through combat he was likely to encounter from Saxons and Cymry. Those skilled with two weapons like Emlyn and I were few. A weapon and shield were the standard arrangement for most warriors.
Dunstan passed the shield to me but wouldn’t meet my gaze. Still, I counted his presence here as a small victory. I was afraid he’d not want to be around me at all after the teasing he endured from the others.
Talian did as well as I expected against my barrage of blows. He was agile as I pushed the shield at him, then slashed out with my training sword. I wouldn’t rank him with Afon yet, but a few more years with me, and he might get there. He was already as good as most of Penllyn’s guard. What he lacked in experience he made up for with his sense of the situation. He seemed to have an instinct that let him sense a blow before it hit him.
I tried a trick of getting a routine going. Slash, shield punch. Slash, shield punch. Over and over. He even tried to take the offensive several times. When I altered the blows and twisted my blade out and down to his knees, his shield dropped to meet it. He tried to slide his own blade in above my shield. I had lowered it a few finger widths as I dropped my blade towards his legs. Smart.
I stepped back and raised my blade in salute.
“You’re doing much better than you were a month ago,” I said.
Talian smiled and took the shield and blade from me.
“Hang those up, and you’re free to spend the day as you like,” I said.
I strolled towards the far end where the water table stood and dipped my cup into the bucket. The water level was low enough that I could pull it back out wet but empty.
Talian stood talking with Dunstan. I left them to their own devices and headed out into the grey morning. Britain always seemed covered by clouds, even here in Mercia. A man wandered by me from the back of the practice hall—Lord Chamberlain’s ears and eyes. Once he passed, I turned to stroll the way he had come from.
A small door was closed in the back end of the weapons hall. A well-oiled lock hung from the latch. A moment of sliding my fingers around the door frame allowed me to find the recess that hid the other latch. The door swung ajar. I glanced around to make sure no one in the courtyard had noticed.
Just as I suspected, a stool sat near a shelf in the front wall. Instead of the normal plastered walls of the exterior of the building, this wall was made of rough timber boards nailed in place. Several large cracks between the planks gave whoever sat here ample view of the practice hall.
“Sure,” Talian’s voice drifted my way. “Lady Mair said I could practise here any time Lord Ludló’s men weren’t using the hall. Come on.”
I peered through the cracks and watched. Dunstan pulled on leather gloves to match the ones Talian wore. Each of them donned a leather helmet and brought a practice sword and shield out onto the floor.
“Lady Mair and Lord Emlyn always have us salute,” Talian said.
“We only nod at each other.” Dunstan’s voice seemed more energetic than when he spoke to me.
“Like this,” Talian said, and he held his blade in front of him, tip upright. He swooshed it down and to the side. Dunstan copied him.
“Good,” Talian said. “Now your guard stance.”
He and Dunst
an both dropped into one. Dunstan held his weapon near his shield, both out before him. Talian copied my favourite ready position. Shield in front and blade overhead, point forward.
Talian launched the first strike towards his opponent’s head. Dunstan blocked with his shield and thrust at my student. Talian stepped out of line. His own sword started another strike. Dunstan’s shield rose to protect his head while Talian swung at Dunstan’s legs. He connected but pulled his blow.
“Lady Mair says don’t expect the second blow,” Talian added, then stepped back out of measure. “My first blow was high, but that doesn’t mean my next one will be high. Stay neutral instead of expectant.”
Dunstan nodded. He raised his shield and blade to a ready stance and stepped into measure.
“Good,” Talian said as they traded more blows.
A blossoming friendship between Talian and Dunstan was something I hadn’t expected, but I was glad to see it.
24
Alliances
Thea helped me dress for dinner. I elected to go for the midnight-blue dress I had brought with me, the one on which I had worked a motif of swords into the embroidery. The stitches wound up the sleeves and across the bodice. Since the dress was a gift from Gwen, and she wasn’t as busty as most women of this time, Thea didn’t have to pull the laces as tight as she had with the dress from the night before.
“Excellent,” Thea added as she held my sword belt out.
I stepped back into her arms and pulled the belt through the metal ring, then looped it under and through itself.
“Most men wear baldrics,” Thea said, keeping her arms around me, her face near my neck. She caressed me with her lips. “Except you and Emi.”
“I’m not a man,” I said.
“I noticed that last night,” she said with a giggle. “Still, I feel so left out sitting here by myself. With Emi here, I’d go along as his companion to dinners. Attending on the arm of another woman would be awkward.”
“The Saxon priests of Woden complain?”
