The Dark Age

by Traci Harding

  The other masters were basking in the notoriety, as everywhere they went people stood in awe of the uniform bearing the Dragon. No one could understand how such a small group of knights, half of which were women, could seize a whole kingdom. It was said the divine was upon the order and thus everyone wanted to be part of it.

  Grading was held two days before Calin’s inauguration, and all the students managed to achieve a whole grade this time. The masters could now wear their uniforms of black, for they departed the room as teachers, until next autumn when they would again return to Aberffraw to resume their training.

  The males of the household at Aberffraw were joined by the knights and landowners of Gwynedd, as well as the heads of State and noblemen of Powys, to bear witness to Prince Brockwell’s inauguration. King Catulus of Dumnonia had made the trip especially and brought with him old King Caninus of Gwent Is Coed, who hoped to gain a further insight into the ways of his ancestors.

  Tory waited patiently for Katren to wish Calin farewell. By the time she did finally part with him, some of the men had already begun to leave. As Calin ran to his mount, Tory called after him, ‘Calin wait.’

  He paused, one foot already in the stirrup. ‘Majesty please, I shall never get out of here.’

  Tory ran to catch him up, pulling out from behind her back Brian’s leather jacket. ‘I just wanted to give thee this, for good luck.’

  Calin was truly touched and took hold of the jacket as if it were a great treasure. ‘But this was thy brother’s, all thou hast to remember him by.’

  ‘I have thee,’ she proffered assuredly. ‘Besides, it was Brian’s lucky jacket. Saved his butt so many times thee would not believe! Take it, it belongs to thee.’

  Calin removed his woollen cape and pulled on the jacket, which fitted him perfectly. ‘This be truly remarkable,’ he exclaimed, as he admired the workmanship.

  ‘It will help to keep the rain out, too,’ Tory informed him with a pat on the back. ‘Good luck on thy quest bro, though I know thee will not need it.’

  ‘Many thanks.’ Calin unexpectedly hugged her tight. ‘I do love thee, Tory,’ he whispered.

  She pulled away from him, rolling her eyes that were now moist with tears. ‘Men!’

  They both laughed and with another embrace, Calin finally mounted his horse.

  ‘I shall see thee soon.’ Tory held out her hand for a high-five in parting.

  Calin slapped it. ‘Count on it.’ He dug in his heels and was away after the others.

  No sooner had the last man departed, than Tory found Jenovefa at her side. ‘Majesty, I have had the most wonderful idea.’

  ‘And what might that be?’ inquired Tory, as if she couldn’t guess.

  ‘Well, as the men will be gone for the next few days, and I am much recovered from Gawain’s birth, I thought that perhaps I could train with thee and the other girls, just to see how I fare.’ Her large eyes that looked up at Tory were so filled with ardour that the Queen could hardly say no.

  ‘Thou hast discussed this with Rhys?’

  ‘Nay,’ Jenovefa replied, disappointed. ‘Not since before the birth, and then he refused to so much as consider it. But, Majesty, thee said …’

  ‘I know what I said. It be your choice, Jenovefa, and I will train thee. But thou must take responsibility for thy own decisions, speak up for thyself. And if thy husband does not like it … then … then, I shall talk to him,’ Tory resolved, knowing she was destined to get the blame anyway.

  Jenovefa was so ecstatic that she hugged the Queen. ‘Oh how can I thank thee, Majesty?’

  ‘Talk to thy husband.’

  ‘I will Majesty, I promise. As soon as he returns.’ Her excitement waned a little. ‘Still I fear his response will be the same.’

  ‘We will see.’ Tory seemed so confident that Jenovefa’s spirits lifted, and she escorted the Queen to the gym.

  To prove his worth, Calin was sent on an errand to Dalriada, lower Scotland, to see a man by the name of Fergus MacErc who had arrived in Dalriada from Scotta (Ireland), only a decade before. He had established his dynasty at Dunadd with the aid of a mere one hundred and fifty men and his two brothers, Loarn and Aengus. Although the MacErc clan had yet to come to power, it was known to the Goddess that every great Scottish king would be derived from their seed.

  The task assigned to Brockwell by the Goddess proved not so daunting as first expected. The leader turned out to be an old ally of Vortipor’s kindred, and thus the protector of Dyfed had written a letter of favour sealed with the mark of the Desi. With this letter and a copy of the pact, which now also encompassed Powys, Brockwell climbed upon the griffin and flew off into the sunrise. He was to deliver a message from the Goddess to the Clan MacErc. The message was a warning and pertained to the fate of their descendants and of Dalriada, if they did not heed her call. For as history stood, the Scots, as they were to be known, would spend the next five hundred years trying to establish their kingdom while fending off Viking, Anglo-Saxon and Norman raiders, to whom they would eventually lose not only Dalriada, but their homeland of Scotia as well. Brockwell was to inform the MacErc of the victories the pact had already won and invite the leaders of the clan to the next meeting of the alliance, to be held in the middle of the month-long festival of Lughnasa, at Arwystli in Powys.

  The inauguration party arrived back from Llyn Cerrig Bach two days later to feast and await Brockwell’s return.

  Selwyn accompanied the men back from the temple ruins, where he’d assisted Taliesin in performing the initiation rites. The young musician was truly beginning to look like a bard after spending the winter with the High Merlin. He had a kind of windswept and mysterious look about him, and he appeared not at all like the boy who’d left Aberffraw less than six months before. Selwyn rode back into town on a handsome white horse, his mule lugging his harp and other possessions behind him.

  Not in the mood for feasting with a bunch of guys still tripping out on one of Taliesin’s concoctions, Tory suggested to Selwyn that they sneak away to her chambers where it was quieter and they could talk in peace. Maelgwn joined them by the fire for a time, and Tory was gratified to see that the King no longer addressed Selwyn in the manner he had when the boy was his page.

  Selwyn marked the change also as he excitedly conveyed to Maelgwn the tales of his adventures inside the Merlin’s labyrinth. For the first time, His Royal Highness was listening with interest to the boy’s words, laughing in delight and recognition at his stories.

  Maelgwn had never known anyone, apart from himself and his mother, whom the Merlin had taken under his wing, and he understood all too well the standards that Taliesin expected. If the High Merlin was tutoring Selwyn in the mysteries, the boy must be a fine scholar indeed and no doubt had an important role in Taliesin’s scheme.

  Maelgwn had acquired another young page to order about in Selwyn’s stead. He went by the name of Tadgh, and had served Sir Gilmore before his untimely death. Tadgh seemed too light-hearted to succeed as either a scholar or a soldier, as he was more like a court jester. He was frightfully amusing at times, very polite and entirely trustworthy. Still, the King was disappointed that his new page was not musically inclined like Selwyn. He’d been trying to ignore the humour of his new aspirant, but Tadgh was proving far too likeable. He was determined to win the King’s favour and no matter how short Maelgwn’s tether, Tadgh kept his good spirits and employed a quick wit. A little smaller than Selwyn and of slight build, Tadgh was aged four and ten. He had waves of thick dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders, green eyes, rosy red cheeks, and was of a fair complexion.

  The page was pouring mead while Tory and Maelgwn listened intently to Selwyn tell the tale of how he’d come by his horse. But the enchanting anecdote was cut short by an impatient pounding on the door.

  ‘Please, make haste if thy matter be so pressing,’ Maelgwn instructed, not really wishing to be disturbed.

  Sir Rhys entered holding a hand over one eye, and he appeared extremely
angry as he stormed towards them. ‘I am sorry to disturb thee, Majesty.’ The knight was so enraged that he had to grit his teeth to articulate his words. ‘But I demand to know what thy Queen hast done to my wife?’

  The King remained seated as he addressed his knight, sounding not in the least bit bothered by Rhys’ foul mood. ‘Something vexes thee?’

  Rhys’ hand half covered his face, as he turned to the Queen. ‘Why be my wife practising mastery techniques in our chamber? She near took my eye out when I entered.’ Rhys divulged his afflicted eye, which was inflamed and beginning to darken to a bruise.

  The King couldn’t refrain from laughter, and Tory, Selwyn, and even Tadgh collapsed into hysterics.

  ‘This be no laughing matter,’ Rhys beseeched them, indignant. ‘Jenovefa was perfectly content to be my wife before she met thee, Your Majesty. To love and obey, that be what our vows stated. Thus, I forbid her to train under thee.’

  Maelgwn felt Tory’s patience snap and he rose to intervene if necessary.

  ‘Then I shall divorce thee.’

  They all turned to find Jenovefa standing in the doorway.

  ‘Better a life without love, than a life without freedom,’ she resolved, solemnly.

  ‘I thought I told thee to wait in our room.’ Rhys moved to physically remove her.

  ‘Art thou not listening! I shall leave thee, Rhys, and then thee will have no say in what I do.’ She avoided him and made haste to the side of the Queen.

  ‘She can legally do that,’ Maelgwn cautioned Rhys, who was becoming increasingly agitated by the second.

  ‘I blame thee for this, Maelgwn. This whole situation be well out of control and ’twas of thy making.’

  ‘Now wait a minute.’ The Queen approached the knight. ‘I believe there be one small point thou art overlooking. What would happen if thou wast away fighting a campaign somewhere …’ Tory circled Rhys as she spun her scenario. ‘And thy estate at Din Lligwy was raided? Now most of the women in Gwynedd will have been trained in self-defence, but not Jenovefa. So what becomes of thy wife then? Need I tell thee, she would be dead!’ Tory thundered, annoyed by his selfishness. ‘How dare thee blame thy King for thy shortcomings. Thine own fear and arrogance hast brought about the ill will between thee and thy wife. Face it Rhys, though thee may have the mind of a great scholar, thee can still not grasp the simple concept that we art all created equal. Every human being hast the right to their freedom, to be heard, to make their own decisions, to live and love as they see fit. Love and respect, sir, art not a condition of marriage, they must be earned!’ Tory paused, having exhausted her frustration. ‘Am I getting through at all?’

  Rhys, whose eyes were downcast, nodded and replied, ‘I understand well enough.’ The law was on the Queen’s side. If he didn’t agree with her he would lose his wife and be forced to forfeit his place in the circle of twelve, neither of which he was prepared to relinquish. ‘I apologise, Majesty.’ Rhys swallowed his pride. ‘I did not think.’

  Satisfied that her husband had realised his mistake, Jenovefa said she was sorry she’d punched him in the eye and swore that from now on she would confine her practice to within the walls of the gymnasium.

  Three days later, Brockwell arrived home from his quest triumphant. He rode into Aberffraw in the company of the High Merlin. Katren made sure the whole household was aware of his return, and everyone rushed to the courtyard to meet them.

  Calin jumped from his saddle, appearing most impressed with himself. He took hold of Katren to bequeath a kiss, pleased to confess, ‘’Tis all I have thought about for days.’

  As Calin couldn’t drag himself away from his beloved, Taliesin took the liberty of informing the gathering of the outcome of the quest. He announced that the pending King of Powys had not only persuaded the MacErc clan to come to the allies’ gathering, but had also convinced the leaders to sign the pact. The Anglo-Saxons had already begun to raid their lands in Cumbria, and the Picts, in the upper highlands of Alban, were proving just as troublesome. The men who had witnessed Calin’s initiation rites were most impressed, for no one had ventured into the mysterious and savage land of Dalriada and lived to tell of it.

  The Merlin dismounted and Maelgwn greeted him warmly. ‘Good morning, High Merlin, how is everything with you this fine day?’

  ‘Very well indeed, Majesty.’ He thought nothing of the King’s words for a moment and then he realised. ‘Splendid! Tory hast been teaching thee English.’ Taliesin was in the best of moods as he placed his arm around his pupil and accompanied him inside. ‘It would seem there be much to celebrate at Aberffraw this night.’

  On the eve of the wedding and the feast of Beltaine, the guests residing at the castle at Aberffraw were treated to the story of the first of May which they were to celebrate. The High Merlin took his place by the fire, his goblet filled with mead. Selwyn sat alongside him with his harp to enhance the tale with the heavenly strains of his strings. Taliesin waited for his audience to settle before he began the tale. As a hush came over the room, he asked, ‘The word “Beltaine” means?’

  ‘Fires of Beli.’ All bar Tory replied in unison; they had obviously heard this story before.

  ‘And Beli was?’

  ‘The God of life and death. The father of gods and men.’ The room resounded with amusement.

  ‘Who be telling this story?’ Calin added in jest, not moving from his place alongside Katren at the Merlin’s feet.

  Taliesin gave Calin a look of caution as he resumed. ‘Beli’s story dates back to a time when the Otherworld and the Middle Kingdom co-existed on the same plane. Beli came to our land from the Honey Isle, which your Majesty,’ Taliesin pointed out for Tory’s information, ‘might know better as Atlantis.’

  The Merlin had spoken to Tory about Atlantis when they’d last met, nearly five months ago. The subject had arisen when Tory had asked how Taliesin had obtained his knowledge of the mystic forces that surrounded the planet; how he had learnt the secrets of time travel, the megaliths and the higher realms of consciousness. Taliesin explained that he’d lived year to year through history, growing increasingly frustrated with humanity’s decline, and his inability to do anything about it. At his wit’s end, Taliesin finally besought Keridwen to help him amend the state of Britain. The Goddess had previously said that Taliesin must acquire these skills on his own to amend his error in ruining her potion. But in her mercy and wisdom, she sent the High Merlin back to Atlantis to learn from the Ancients.

  ‘I follow thee, Taliesin,’ Tory told him. ‘I recall thee mentioning Beli in one of thy poems, where thee described the land surrounded by deep moats from which he came. I understand that thee referred to Atlantis as the Honey Isle in the poem, because of the sweetness of the forgotten knowledge to be found there. As thee depicted Beli as the Dragon, who became the guardian spirit of Britain, I assume he was a great ancestor of Maelgwn.’ Tory had been taking a closer look at the Merlin’s writings over the cold season and his riddles were beginning to make more sense to her.

  Taliesin confirmed her conclusions with a wink. He then went on to tell of how Beli, the husband of the great Don, gained victory over the powers of darkness in their land. He brought the people of Britain the secrets of the harvest and knowledge of the seasons of the year. Beltaine marked the birth of the harvest year, and the fires did honour to him.

  As the Merlin recounted the tale, Tory thought it strikingly familiar to the story of the great deluge as written in Genesis. It was even closer to the ancient Sumerian account of the tale. In this version it was Beli (under the name of Enki) who advised Noah (who was also known by a different name). When the select few who had been spared from the disaster again found dry land, they built an altar to the god and burnt offerings in his honour, giving thanks and praise.

  This led Tory to wonder if the Celts had borrowed the tale from the Jews and Christians? Yet it seemed more likely that the Judeo-Christian saga had been derived from the earlier Sumerian version.

 
As with Samhain, all the fires in the land would be extinguished to be rekindled from the sacred fire. The fire would be lit by the druids on the morrow at eve, and left to burn all night. Prime cattle would be driven between the fires for purification and fertility. Men and women would take to the fields and make love to enhance the fertility of the earth and ensure a good crop. Come dawn, the people of the land would take the new flame home and light their own fires again. This symbolised a fresh start and gave all the hope of a good yield.

  Tory rose early the next day to help Katren prepare for her wedding. As the Goddess’ representative at the house at Aberffraw, Tory was required to attend Calin’s crowning this morning and so she wore the green dress of the triple Goddess. Tory was the only woman permitted to attend, just as Lady Gladys had been at Maelgwn’s crowning.

  The bride awoke in a bed covered in fresh spring flowers. Tory and Ione were there to greet her with bread, fruit and a jug of mead to calm her nerves.

  Katren had asked Ione to be her bridesmaid, for Ione had helped her to win the title of Queen’s Champion and, indirectly, Calin’s heart. Ione was thrilled by the honour and had graciously accepted, even though it meant appearing feminine for a day.

  Calin wrote a love letter in the early hours of the morning after he’d picked the flowers that now covered Katren’s bed. His note explained that this inability to rest stemmed not from nerves but from his anticipation and elation of their imminent union and life together.

  Katren, who had been reading the note aloud, went quiet and read the rest of his letter to herself. With a devious chuckle, Katren’s cheeks flushed red. She folded the letter and held it to her breast. It was hard to believe the turn her life had taken, considering the way it could have been had Tory never come bounding into it.