"Is it because of this? Can you not forgive me for drawing my knife against you?"
Rhiannon's eyes met his, full of resignation. "You were distraught, confused. You did not mean to hurt me."
"What then?" Maelgwn gasped, clutching her tightly. "Why won't you return to me? Why won't you be my wife?"
Rhiannon swallowed, then her delicate lips moved, speaking so softly he could barely hear her. "I'm sorry, Maelgwn. I can't go back. I can't be your wife. I belong to the Goddess now."
"The Goddess! How can She claim you? She might possess your soul, but I have possessed your body, your fleshly form. How can you deny that, Rhiannon? How can you?"
Rhiannon reached to touch his face. Her small fingers glided over his skin. "I did not say I would not lie with you, Maelgwn. I did not say I would forsake your loving."
Maelgwn loosened his violent grip and took a deep breath. "What do you mean? You will not return to Degannwy—but if I came to you, you would couple with me?"
"I could not deny you that."
Maelgwn released her altogether, breathing heavily. Her words confused him. He had not considered this possibility. He had hoped she would agree to return to Degannwy and all would be well. He had also dreaded she would reject him and tell him she never wanted to see him again. But this, this in-between, unsettling state of possessing her body, but not her heart and soul. Could he endure it?
"What if there were a child, Rhiannon? To what world would he belong? Yours or mine?"
"There won't be a child."
"What? Would you kill it as you did the other one?"
Rhiannon gasped and took a step back. Maelgwn quickly realized his mistake. He reached for her, sorrowful and beseeching. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Gwenaseth told me it was a mistake. But please, next time, trust me."
"Trust you!" Rhiannon exclaimed. "I find I am married to a man full of anger and hate, and I am supposed to trust him? The Goddess help me! You nearly went mad with rage when you found out who my mother was. Who is to say that if the babe had been born and sleeping in the room that day, you would not have dashed out its brains in your fury? And yet you... you taunt me for failing to protect it!"
"Dear Rhiannon, do you truly think that of me—that I would kill my own child?"
"I don't know," she answered tautly. "When it comes to the matter of Esylt, I'm not sure what cruelties you are capable of. Even now, you cannot find it in your heart to forgive your sister, can you?"
"Esylt has nothing to do with us."
"Esylt has everything to do with us! She was my mother. Her blood flows in my veins." Rhiannon held her wrist up to his face, forcing him to watch the blue pulse that throbbed there. "Even now, it makes you shudder to think of it. You are a fool, Maelgwn, if you think you can continue to hate Esylt and yet love her daughter."
Maelgwn closed his eyes and struggled for strength. A few weeks ago, he would not have been able to think of forgiving Esylt, of letting go of his hatred. But the loss of Rhiannon had taught him that there were worse things than forsaking the bitterness he had nursed for years. He took Rhiannon's wrist and brought it to his lips. "I cannot promise," he said softly. "But I will try to forgive Esylt. After all, she gave me you. Such a great gift must surely cancel out her other sins." Pulling Rhiannon close, he stood and cradled her against him, stroking her hair. "Please, Rhiannon, come back to me."
Rhiannon shook her head. "I can be your wife no longer. Ceinwen has said he will build me my own hut, so we will have a place to meet."
Maelgwn's blue eyes met hers, bright as flames; he leaned over and began to cover her face with kisses. His mouth moved lower, nuzzling the sensitive skin of her neck. Rhiannon sagged against him, wondering if she could deny this man anything.
Slowly, wordlessly, she summoned the strength of the Goddess. It came to her, a rush of energy that made her tremble from head to toe. She lifted Maelgwn's face with gentle but firm fingers, pulling his scorching lips away from her skin.
"Nay, you will not convince me. Nothing you can say or do will change what I have become."
Maelgwn gazed at her with mute, stricken eyes. Rhiannon closed her heart to him, to the aching pity that assaulted her every sense. He was a man, a king. It was unthinkable that he could really want her so much. In time, he would forget her. He would go on with his life.
"In a few days, when the moon is again full, come to me, and I will lie with you. We will make sex magic together."
Maelgwn shook his head. His eyes were full of bitterness, despair, but he said nothing. He stumbled slowly to the small doorway. Ducking down, he went out.
Chapter 28
Arianhrodd was waiting for him when Maelgwn left the hut. He expected her to be gloating, smug. Instead, the look she gave him was one of regret.
"What a tangle," she murmured as he swept past her.
He paused, confused by her sympathy. "I should think you would be pleased to learn that Rhiannon has chosen the Goddess over me."
Arianhrodd put a small brown hand on his arm. "Come. Walk with me in the forest. I think better when there are growing things around me."
Maelgwn hesitated a moment, then followed Arianhrodd over the rocky beach. Rhiannon had refused him. The return journey to Degannwy would be filled with failure and despair. Delaying would cost him nothing.
A short distance from the ragged shoreline, they entered the forest. The young birch and alder had begun budding, and the ground beneath their feet was spongy with moisture. Everywhere there was the sound of running water and the rich scent of wet earth. Maelgwn inhaled deeply, soothing himself with the sweet, indefinable fragrance of spring.
When they were far into the woods, Arianhrodd turned to him. "Do you mean to abide by Rhiannon's decision?"
"Do I have a choice?"
Arianhrodd's face lit with amusement. "You could take Rhiannon back to your fortress by force."
Maelgwn shook his head. "I want more than to possess her body. It's her heart and soul I crave."
"At least you know the difference now. When you came here, it appeared you would claim her by any means you could."
"I was wrong. I was wrong about many things."
He felt Arianhrodd's dark eyes probing him. He paused on the pathway and confronted her. "Why have you brought me here? What do you want of me?"
Arianhrodd spoke slowly. "It's a pity Rhiannon no longer wishes to be your queen. Things I have seen in the scrying bowl once made me believe she was meant to be your consort."
Maelgwn cocked his head skeptically. "Visions?"
"I don't pretend to see the future, but sometimes a certain pathway is revealed. Of course, Rhiannon is free to choose the course of her life."
Maelgwn sought the priestess's hypnotic gaze. This time he did not struggle against her power, but searched it for the answers he needed. "Think you there is a way I might win Rhiannon back?"
"There is always a way."
Maelgwn jerked away in disgust. Arianhrodd was exactly like the Christian holy men. She spoke in riddles, used vague, exalted words. And told him nothing.
"I'm going back." He turned and began to walk down the pathway.
"Are you giving up?"
Maelgwn whirled around. His fists clenched. His body was ablaze with anger. "Why do you taunt me? What game are you playing with my life? With Rhiannon's?"
Arianhrodd met his fury with a look of bemusement. "It's no game. A test perhaps, but not a game."
Maelgwn took a deep breath and unclenched his fists. "Am I to presume I have failed the test?"
Arianhrodd did not answer. She turned and began to walk again. Maelgwn followed her warily, reluctantly.
Further along the pathway, Arianhrodd spoke. "It's odd. I have heard you are a just king and a wise one, but you are ever a fool when it comes to women. Several times now, you have sought to intimidate me with your size and strength. Did you never think to reason with me, to talk with me as you might with a man?"
Maelgwn forced himself to
listen. He did not like what she was saying, but there might be a grain of truth in her words.
"With women you are ever on the defensive," Arianhrodd continued. "A little boy who must shout and raise his fists to be heard. But women are exactly like men, Maelgwn, except for the shape of our bodies. We have minds and feelings as you do. We appreciate being asked to do things instead of being ordered around. We appreciate being reasoned with instead of intimidated. You wouldn't try to win over an ally strictly by force. You would use persuasion as well."
"It's different between men and women."
Arianhrodd shrugged. "If winning back Rhiannon is important, I would think you would use any means available."
"You're suggesting I bargain with her? Treat her like a reluctant ally?"
"Perhaps if you discovered the real reason she refuses to return to Degannwy, you would have a better chance of changing her mind."
"The real reason? But she told me..."
"Told you what?"
Maelgwn shook his head, reliving the pain of Rhiannon's rejection. "She spoke first of my people not accepting her. And then we argued about children, and, of course, my sister. I would concede all those points, do whatever I could to work them out. But, still, I don't think she'll change her mind. It's the Goddess who stands between her and me." Maelgwn raised his face to Arianhrodd, grimacing. "The damned Goddess has stolen my wife."
He expected the priestess to flinch at his blasphemy. Instead, she smiled. "You have felt the Goddess's power and yet are unafraid to curse Her. If Her hold over you is so weak, how can She hold Rhiannon in thrall?"
"Rhiannon believes she owes the Goddess her life."
"Do you believe it?"
Maelgwn shrugged uncomfortably. "She was very fortunate to be rescued when she was. It could be interpreted as the will of a god, or goddess, or simply good luck. At any rate, I can't see that the Goddess needs Rhiannon so badly."
Arianhrodd's eyes crinkled with mirth. "And besides, you have a prior claim."
"Something like that."
"Then you must convince Rhiannon that the Goddess has released her from her debt. If Rhiannon believed it was the Goddess's will that she return to your bed and hearth, how could she refuse?"
Maelgwn gave Arianhrodd a wary look. "You're the one skillful in manipulating the will of men and gods. How do I convince my wife to return to my side?"
"There will be a price."
"There always is," Maelgwn noted ruefully.
Arianhrodd took his arm and drew nearer. Maelgwn felt the heat of her fingers even through his heavy tunic. Smelling the musky, warm scent of her, he was reminded that she was a woman as well as a priestess. She caught the quickening of his senses, and her face lit with laughter.
"What a fine consort you shall make for the Goddess. I'm sure she will be delighted to release Rhiannon from her pledge... and accept yours instead."
Stacks of wood and brush for the bonfires. Eight casks of Brittany wine. Two oxen slaughtered for the feast. Musicians, including a drummer and pipe player borrowed from Cynglass's court. A tale honoring the Great Mother Goddess, commissioned of Taliesin...
Maelgwn's eyes traveled down the scribbled list, then wearily, he pushed it away.
The idea for the ceremony had struck him as promising when Arianhrodd first proposed it. He had thought to easily gain acceptance among his people for a ceremony celebrating the coming of spring and the renewal of the Earth Goddess's power. He had not guessed how many Cymry had converted to the Christian faith, nor how stubbornly they would adhere to the proscriptions against worshiping other deities. A good share of the inhabitants of Degannwy wanted no part of any ceremony honoring one of the old gods. They would not defy him, but their faces showed the anxiety and resentment his plan aroused.
Maelgwn stood abruptly and began to pace across the council room. In four days the seed moon would rise high and bright. He had planned that his people would gather on cliffs above the sea, and Arianhrodd would call down the Goddess, invoking Her spirit to enter Rhiannon's body. He would wear the mask of the Stag God, the Goddess's traditional consort. There in the wild light of the moon and leaping fires, he and Rhiannon would be joined. Rhiannon would realize the Goddess meant for her to be with him. No longer would she resist his plea to return to Degannwy and take her place next him.
Maelgwn sank back into his seat again, uneasy. Was it fair to ask his people to violate their consciences for his sake? Was it prudent to involve the Goddess's power—a power he accepted as very real—in a matter that primarily involved the happiness of one man? Most of all, would their plan work? Would Rhiannon agree to her part in the ceremony, and would the experience alter her refusal to return as his wife?
Uncertainty gnawed at him. One could not participate in a ceremony half-convinced. When it came to the magic of the Old Ones, belief was everything. He must put his doubts aside somehow. He must believe the Goddess would not fail him.
Balyn approached the hearth in the great hall quietly, trying not to startle the slight, swarthy man who squatted before it. "Rhys," he whispered urgently.
The man turned and grunted.
Balyn jerked his head toward the doorway. "I need to speak with you."
Rhys rose and followed him out into the misty gray twilight. They walked silently to the fortress gate. Once outside, they braced themselves against the sea wind, tucking their hands into their tunics. The wind was chilly, and both men felt the loss of the fire's warmth acutely.
"Is this matter so secret we must freeze to death discussing it?" Rhys groused.
"Aye, it is."
Rhys's shrewd eyes searched Balyn's face. "Out with it, then. I don't mean to stand here long."
"What do you think of this Goddess ceremony Maelgwn has planned?"
"He's completely lost his wits."
Balyn's head bobbed in agreement. "It's a vile, loathesome plan. No good can come of it, only censure from the Church and ridicule from his enemies. Why, I wouldn't be surprised if Bishop Gildas denounced him publicly!"
"Maelgwn's never played the fool like this before. What's come over him?"
Balyn lowered his voice to a mere whisper. "It's Rhiannon. He actually believes this ceremony will bring her back from the dead."
Rhys gave another snort of disgust. "I've never understood the king's attitude toward women. The way he carried on about the queen's death—why doesn't he just find another comely bitch to warm his bed? They all have the same thing between their legs. Sometimes I wonder if his mind isn't as addled as his enemies say."
"That's why it's our duty to protect him. We must prevent the ceremony. We simply can't allow it to take place."
"How do you mean to stop it?"
Although they were clearly alone, Balyn leaned even closer and lowered his voice. "Most of the other princes of Gwynedd are Christian. They would be as appalled by Maelgwn's plans as we are. I intend to summon them here for a council meeting. After they arrive, Maelgwn will be forced to abandon his plans."
Rhys's eyes bulged in surprise. "You would do this— thwart the king's will?"
"It's for his own good. I'm trying to protect him!"
"And when the other chieftains arrive, what do you mean to tell them? How will you explain the summons?"
"I don't know. Perhaps we could say Maelgwn called a council meeting to discuss the alliance with the Brigantes. Perhaps even form a delegation to visit the north and meet with their new king."
Rhys made a sour face. "There's no love lost between the other Cymry princes and the Brigantes. Maelgwn used the northern warriors to subdue these men. Why should they care who the Brigantes name as king?"
"It's the best idea I could come up with," Balyn said defensively. "I'm not sure it matters what we tell the other chieftains, as long as this blasphemous ceremony does not take place."
"I don't share your faith," Rhys said grimly. "Maelgwn could dance naked in the chapel and fuck on the very altar for all I care. But I agree this ceremony is a mis
take. It makes the king look like a half-wit. Believing that his wife will return from the dead—what nonsense!"
"You'll help then? You'll compose the message to the other chieftains and deliver it?"
Rhys's dark eyes narrowed. "Aye," he answered after a moment. "I'll do it, and Maelgwn be damned. If he decides to banish me, there are plenty of other chieftains to take me in. The only men who can read and write these days are churchmen. I can make a fair living as a courier in any part of Britain."
"Don't talk as if we're betraying Maelgwn," Balyn said in an anguished voice. "We're trying to help him."
"Aye. But it's help he hasn't asked for, that he may never appreciate. Consider this carefully, Balyn. Do you do this for Maelgwn, or the Christian god?"
"Both," Balyn answered resolutely. "I do it for both of them."
"It's beautiful, Rhiannon." Arianhrodd smiled with delight as she looked down at her new gown. The fine wool cloth was a deep saffron shade with bands of crimson at the hem of the skirt and the long loose sleeves. "Truly a garment fit for a queen."
"Nay." Rhiannon shook her head. "Not a queen, a priestess."
"Very well then, a priestess. I'll look forward to wearing it at the ceremony at Degannwy."
Rhiannon's face clouded. "Are you sure this ceremony is wise? Maelgwn's people believe I'm dead. My appearance will likely frighten them."
"Not if you play the part of the Goddess's daughter, the maiden of spring. They will remember the old magic, the old legends. Like Persephone, you disappeared into the world of the dead during the winter and are returning in the spring. They will greet your reappearance with awe and skepticism, but in the end they will accept you. Besides, you must make yourself known sometime. Even if you never return to Degannwy as Maelgwn's queen, rumors and whispers will inevitably reach his people that you're alive. This way we use your reappearance to glorify the Goddess. What could be more fitting?"
Dragon's Dream Page 30
