Rhiannon closed her eyes, her body brimming with contentment at the sound of her husband's voice. "Why are you here?" she said. "I thought you'd gone to visit Cynan."
"It doesn't matter. Nothing matters but that you are safe."
She sagged against him, letting his strength fill her. "Llewenon kidnapped me," she said. "He made me follow him west to Rhodderi's lands. It was a trap. Rhodderi planned to ambush you when you came looking for me."
"Llewenon!" The shock in her husband's voice made Rhiannon open her eyes. Maelgwn's face was filled with a cold fury that made her flinch.
"Llewenon," he demanded. "Where is he?"
Rhiannon paused, suddenly afraid again. Would Maelgwn condemn her for murdering a bard? All her life, she had been taught that bards were special, revered. She had not thought of it before, but perhaps she had done wrong in killing such a man.
Nay, she had done no wrong. She had obeyed the Goddess. It was not evil to choose her own life over a man's, even one who was a bard. She lifted her head so that her eyes met Maelgwn's. "I killed him," she said. "He was going to hurt me again, so I cut his throat."
Maelgwn stared at her so long and hard, Rhiannon grew uneasy. Finally, he heaved a deep sigh and pulled her close. "My lovely wife, how I underestimate you, even now. You appear so small and fragile, but underneath there is a core of iron."
Rhiannon leaned into her husband's chest and sighed with relief. It was only the sound of a familiar northern accent which roused her from her exhausted reverie.
"Your wife—she is well? She was not kidnapped?"
Rhiannon looked up to see Gavran watching her and Maelgwn with a puzzled expression. His bewilderment only increased when Maelgwn responded. "Aye, my wife is well. But she was indeed kidnapped. It seems that your old bard, Llewenon, teamed up with Rhodderi and tried to use Rhiannon to get at me."
"Llewenon and Rhodderi—now that's a foul alliance." Gavran's eyes settled on Rhiannon with a look of interest. "What happened, Rhiannon? How did you escape?"
Bracing herself for her countryman's shock and disapproval, Rhiannon answered. "I killed Llewenon. He meant to hurt me and use me to hurt Maelgwn. I could not let that happen."
Gavran's eyes rounded with shock exactly as Maelgwn's had. Then he laughed heartily. "By Lludd's silver hand! It's true what they say, a magician can only be killed by one whose powers are greater." His gaze shifted to Maelgwn, and he shook his head in exaggerated dismay. "I warned you, didn't I, that your wife was a sorceress? You'd best sleep with a sprig of witchbane under your pillow, Maelgwn, lest you wake up some morning to find yourself transformed into a bat or a toad."
"Nay, his namesake, a dragon," Rhiannon interjected, her face radiant with relief. "I think he would make a very handsome dragon. One with sleek green skin and eyes like great glowing rubies."
"This dragon..." Maelgwn murmured, leaning over to speak close to her ear, "...wants nothing more than to carry off his mate to his den in the hills and keep her to himself forever."
Chapter 33
Safe and secure in Maelgwn's arms, Rhiannon dozed as they made their way back to Degannwy. Despite the jostling caused by Cynraith's fast pace over rough terrain and the shouts of the men, she could no longer resist the lure of sleep.
It seemed only moments had passed when she felt herself being lifted down from Maelgwn's arms. She opened her eyes and realized that Balyn held her as Maelgwn dismounted. The big man's deep brown eyes gazed down on her tenderly.
"My lady, I am glad you are well, truly I am."
Rhiannon smiled up at him and even dared to brush her hand across his brown cheek. "Thank you, Balyn. I'm pleased to know you joined the search party to look for me."
"What else could I do? Maelgwn cannot live without you, and I would give my life to make him happy."
"Enough," Maelgwn pronounced gruffly. He took Rhiannon from Balyn's arms and cradled her in his own. "Any more whispering, and I will suspect the two of you are conspiring to retire me into my dotage."
Rhiannon leaned against Maelgwn's broad chest and smiled. The strain between Balyn and Maelgwn was still there, but in time it might vanish altogether. Maelgwn was too fair and reasonable a man to condemn his friend for one mistake in a lifetime of service.
Maelgwn carried Rhiannon to the bedchamber and laid her on the bed. Taffee came rushing in after them. "You'd best learn to look after your wife better," she chided Maelgwn. "This is the second time you've near lost her."
"Your duty is to see to your lady's comfort," Maelgwn growled. "Even a slattern such as you should see she is in grave need of a hot bath. Be off and see to having some water brought." Sitting down on the bed beside Rhiannon, Maelgwn shook his head after the slave woman's departing form. "I don't know how you endure her. She has a disgracefully impertinent tongue."
"She is loyal, though," Rhiannon said. "And efficient. Not only will she see to my bath, she will also think to bring me some food, and I'm utterly famished. This babe must be a boy; I vow I could eat for a sennight and never be satisfied."
"Babe?" Maelgwn's eyes jerked back to her face.
Rhiannon gave him a shy smile. "I waited to tell you until I was certain its spirit had taken hold in this world." She sighed contently. "Now I am sure. The whole time I was with Llewenon, I could feel the baby inside me, willing me to live, to fight."
"Do you mean to tell what happened?" Maelgwn asked.
"You mean... with Llewenon?"
Maelgwn nodded. "Not only this time, but before. What did he do to you?"
Rhiannon sighed again. "It's a long story, but perhaps you have guessed some of it." She leaned back against the bed and spoke in a low soft voice. "Years ago, when I was a girl, Llewenon came to my father's hearth and sang a song of magic..."
Maelgwn listened silently. When she reached the part about the rape, his eyes darkened and his hands clenched into fists, but he did not interrupt.
The return of Taffee and two servant boys carrying huge, steaming buckets of water over their shoulders halted Rhiannon's narrative. The servants quickly filled the large wooden tub another servant carried in, and then Taffee ordered everyone from the room. When she turned to Maelgwn and gave him an expectant look, he exploded. "If you have any sense, woman, you will absent yourself from my presence immediately!"
Taffee's bearing was haughty as she sauntered toward the door. She paused there and faced the king. "If I leave, who will bathe your lady?" she asked him boldly.
"I will!" was his outraged response.
Despite her fatigue, Rhiannon could not help giggling at Maelgwn's anger. When Taffee left, and he turned his stern, forbidding countenance to Rhiannon, she laughed even harder. "Poor darling. You know Taffee is right."
"I will bathe you."
Rhiannon's eyes sought Maelgwn's and she caught her breath at the look of tenderness she saw there. He leaned forward and pulled a strand of matted hair away from her face. Rhiannon closed her eyes as he kissed her, then let her body go limp as he pulled off her soiled gown and lifted her from the bed.
The bath was hot, gloriously so, and Maelgwn's big hands were gentle on her sore, battered skin. She lay back and let him tend to her, half in a daze of fatigue and delicious satisfaction. It took a long time to wash the blood and dirt from her skin and hair, and as he bathed her, Maelgwn asked not a word more about the kidnapping. It was only after he had wrapped her in large warm cloth and brought her back to the bed that he urged her to finish her story.
She began again, speaking slowly and without emotion. Looking back, it seemed almost impossible that she had outwitted Llewenon and killed him with her own hands. A sense of awe went through her as she described the Goddess's power entering her body, the anger and feeling of vengeance which had driven her.
"I truly thought," she said, her voice shaking suddenly. "I thought that I was acting on behalf of the Goddess. The power was there, and I did not doubt it. In a way, I almost pitied Llewenon, for I had the thing he had always sought, but would
never have a chance to find himself."
"Pity?" Maelgwn's voice was hard. "How can you pity a man who hurt you so badly? Llewenon deserved to die— and in a manner far more cruel than having his throat cut."
Rhiannon shook her head. "He was twisted inside. He could not really help what he was." Her eyes met Maelgwn's. "All the more reason to send him back to the spirit world. Perhaps next time he will find what he needs and his spirit will know peace. Most men have more good in them than Llewenon did. Rhodderi, for example, he is not all the villain that I had thought."
"Aye, tell me of Rhodderi," Maelgwn prompted.
Maelgwn listened in amazed silence as Rhiannon told of finding Rhodderi leaning over her, and how she had threatened him and then somehow managed to convince him to leave her alone. "It was very odd," she finished. "I have the feeling he will not oppose you in the future; that there might be a chance he will honor you as overking after all."
"Astounding." Maelgwn shook his head, then leaned down to smooth a tendril of damp hair away from her cheek. "The dream was true. You were meant to be my consort, Rhiannon. With you at my side, Gwynedd is safe. The Goddess's magic is within you, and no man will deny it now."
"I can't help thinking, though, that the Goddess's days are ending," Rhiannon said in a troubled voice. "More and more people are accepting the Christ God. I fear the magic will be lost. People will forget that all of us are born from the sea and the earth."
Maelgwn stood and went to a narrow opening in the timber wall. Now that the weather had turned warm, some of the wall coverings had been removed to let in light and air through the small high windows in the bedchamber. "How can they forget?" he asked. "The Goddess is all around us, everywhere. In these hills the spirits whisper on the wind. They speak in every ripple of water and gleaming green leaf."
Rhiannon shook her head, not answering. A chill ran through her as she recalled things she had seen on her journey to the other side. She had dreamed of great fortresses of silver and glass. The people who lived there did not look up at the sky or gaze down at the vacant fields where no grass grew. The Goddess had left them, and they were lost.
Maelgwn crossed back to the bed and sat down beside her. Before he could speak, there was a knock at the door.
"Taffee," Rhiannon said. "No doubt she is finally bringing me some food."
But it was not Taffee who stood in the doorway when Maelgwn called out a welcome, but Gavran. "I don't mean to disturb you," he said. "But I would like to convey my concern for Rhiannon."
"Of course." Maelgwn motioned him in. Gavran came to the bed and bowed to Rhiannon. "How fare you, my lady?"
"Well enough," Rhiannon answered with a smile. "My bruises and scrapes will heal quickly."
"I'm pleased to hear it." Gavran's eyes flickered hesitantly to Maelgwn. "Perhaps she is well enough to consider my proposal. What do you think?"
"Tell Rhiannon the story from the beginning. She has not yet heard the news that you are king of the Brigantes."
"King?" Rhiannon gasped.
Gavran's characteristic smile broke free. "Nay, do not apologize for your surprise, Rhiannon. I must say I was amazed myself."
"How—how did this come about?"
Gavran's grin widened with honest amusement. "As you know, your father's other children were hardly of an age to lead a group of warriors, and Ferdic's brothers had left the tribe so long ago, no one was sure of their fitness, either. In the end, it came down to a contest of battle prowess among the warriors... and I won."
"I suspect it also had something to do with your reputation as a fair man and a good leader," Rhiannon suggested with a smile. "Your men have always respected you. I'm sure offering you the kingship came naturally to them."
"Ah, warm words from a lovely lady." Gavran's eyes again strayed to meet Maelgwn's. "But do you think her fondness for me extends as far as the other matter?"
Maelgwn shrugged. "Ask her."
Garvan slid gracefully down upon one knee and took Rhiannon's hand in his. "Obviously, I am pleased to find myself king, but it still troubles me that the line of Ferdic and his father, Cunedag, will not continue to lead the Brigantes. It came to me that I should form some bond with you, a princess of their blood." Garvan's eyes twinkled with self-depreciating humor. "I asked Ferdic for your hand once, you know, but he refused me. It was clear he had much bigger plans for you. Indeed, now I see the wisdom of his wedding you to Maelgwn."
Gavran cleared his throat, and his face grew uncharacteristically solemn. "But my desire for an alliance between your blood and mine remains strong. I have three fine sons, and I would like to propose that if you bear Maelgwn a daughter, she be betrothed to whichever of my sons she chooses."
Rhiannon looked quickly at Maelgwn, trying to read his wishes in this surprising request. His impassive face suggested the decision was hers to make. "I have yet to bear a living child," she answered. "Do we dare tempt the Goddess by arranging the betrothal of a babe still unborn? I might well have all sons."
"You cannot tell me, Lady Rhiannon, that you have no inkling of the future. By killing Llewenon, you obtained what power he had, along with the gifts you undoubtedly inherited from your true mother, Esylt. It is clear to me you must have some sort of sight." Gavran reached out quickly and captured Rhiannon's other hand. Holding them tightly within his, he faced her with a look of earnest entreaty. "Search your mind, Rhiannon, and tell us what the future holds. And if it seems that you will bear a daughter, consider my offer and give me some hope of allying my blood to yours."
Rhiannon gave Maelgwn a bewildered look, then turned back to Gavran. He was a handsome man, his coloring and build much like Ferdic's but without the smug cleverness which had made Ferdic such a hard man to like. No doubt Gavran's sons would also be well-favored, she thought. Certainly she could search long and hard to find a potential father-in-law as honest and generous as Gavran. Still, his request frightened her. If she bore a daughter, should the girl not have the right to choose her own husband rather than being bartered away for a political alliance as Rhiannon had been?
As if reading her thoughts, Gavran spoke. "I promise it would be the maiden's choice, and if she found all three of my sons lacking, I would not to force the matter. All I'm asking for is a promise that you would consider such a marriage before any other."
Seeing Gavran's pleading face so close to hers confused Rhiannon's thoughts. She closed her eyes and listened for the voice inside her which had always guided her wisest decisions. This time, there was no voice, but she did see images. When she had been in the ocean that night she had dreamed of more than misty visions of buildings and empty fields. She had also seen children playing in the king's forest. They were all blue-eyed and lithe. Some with dark hair and some with red. And there was not just one girl among them, but three.
Rhiannon's eyes sprang open, and she heaved a sigh. "Must it be my eldest daughter, Gavran? Would you not be satisfied with a younger one if she suited better?"
Gavran laughed heartily, then released Rhiannon's hands and stood up. Turning to Maelgwn, he gave him a look of exaggerated sympathy. "I don't know how you endure it, Maelgwn. The thought of being married to a woman who sees the future makes my skin crawl. No wonder you always act the devoted husband. If you ever strayed, Rhiannon would surely know it and take you to task."
"But I don't seek to know the future, Gavran," Rhiannon protested. "It comes to me only in glimpses, like fragments of dreams. I can't even be sure it will all come to pass." She moved her fingers down to splay across her belly. "I must first carry this child nine moon cycles and suffer through his birth before I can plan for another one."
"So it is a boy then?" Maelgwn's deep voice rumbled across the room.
Rhiannon frowned and nodded slowly. "I think so. I can't be sure, but it seems to me that the tallest child I saw in my dream was a boy."
"And does he favor me or you?"
Rhiannon looked up and saw the teasing smile on Maelgwn's face. "For shame," she
scolded. "To ask me such a thing. Some things should be surprises, even for the father."
"And I should leave Lady Rhiannon to rest." Gavran bowed again, then headed toward the door. He paused there to wink at Rhiannon, then let himself out.
Rhiannon lay back and exhaled a weary breath. "I don't know, Maelgwn. I think we should have told Gavran the truth about Ferdic. It really is unfair of us to offer him our daughter when in fact, none our children will possess a drop of Ferdic's blood."
"What's the harm of it? Let him think he has allied himself with Cunedag's dynasty. You know as well as I that royal blood doesn't matter as much as he thinks." Maelgwn approached the bed, his eyes a soft, misty blue. "Since I learned who he was, I have often thought it was your Irish slave father who bequeathed to you your gentleness and kind heart The royal families of Britain could do with an infusion of your sweet nature."
"Sweet nature?" Rhiannon twirled a lock of her hair and regarded Maelgwn with a look of queenly disdain. "If you do not bring me some food soon, I fear you shall be greatly disappointed in your assessment of my disposition. I swear I am hungry enough to cause a scene to rival even your fiery temper."
Maelgwn gave her a stricken look and hurried toward the door. "Damn me, but I completely forgot! Some ladies' maid I am. You and the babe would starve to death under my care."
A contented, lazy smile adorned Rhiannon's face as she watched her husband tear from the room. Not a full turn of the seasons had passed since she had wed the formidable Cymry king. She could not help being amused by how much he had changed.
Even more striking was how much she had grown and gained in confidence. A year ago, she would have hidden in the shadows while Gavran talked to Maelgwn. Today, the Brigante king came on bended knee and solicited her approval. It was not merely the Goddess's power, Rhiannon decided. She was a queen in her own right. For all Esylt's faults and failures, she had judged her daughter correctly. As long as there was a breath in her body, she would strive to rule at Maelgwn's side strongly and well.
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