by J. M. Hofer
***
Taliesin rode for Gwythno the next day, eager to discuss the voyage with Tegid and his father before Uthyr and his men arrived. The two-day journey gave him plenty of time to think. Why does Myrthin want to come on this voyage, rather than return to the grove? Who’s to watch over it, now? Lucia?
He reached Caer Gwythno late in the afternoon, close to sunset. He spied the Ceffyl Dŵr in the harbor, and his heart leapt with anticipation. He kicked his horse in the flanks.
His father was waiting at the gates to meet him. “Taliesin!” He came over to embrace him. “We’ve a great feast prepared. It’s not every day we receive the Pendragon’s chief bard beneath our roof.”
Taliesin smiled. “I see Tegid’s arrived.”
“He has, and your mother with him.” His father beamed. “Shall we go down to the harbor?”
Taliesin felt as though he might cry. “My mother’s here?” He would have run to the harbor if his father had not wished to accompany him.
“Yes. She’s anxious to see you, as you can imagine.”
Elffin put an arm around his shoulders and the two of them walked down the path to the harbor.
Taliesin gazed out at the sea, filled with gratitude. My mother’s alive. My mother’s returned! He had not realized how burdened his heart had been with the unanswered question of her well-being. Now, it felt as weightless as a hummingbird joyfully beating its wings within his chest.
***
“Gods be good, lad!” Tegid bellowed as Taliesin climbed aboard. He came over, picked him up and smothered him against his great hairy chest until Taliesin gasped for air. He released him and called down into the hold, “Ula! Yer bairn is here—though I scarce recognize ‘im! Come an’ see!”
Moments later, Ula’s head emerged, her glossy black hair now streaked with grey. Her eyes found him in an instant, and her face erupted into a wide smile. “Sea child!” She ran over and threw her arms around him.
“That’s a sweet sight,” Tegid said, grinning. “Sweet sight, indeed.”
But no one onboard looked more pleased than Elffin, who wept with joy. Inspired, he held up his hands. “I’ve an idea!”
“What’s that, then?” Tegid asked.
“My dear Tegid Voel—I deeply regret you’ve never had the pleasure of dining in my hall all these years. So, tonight, I’ve decided to bring my hall to you—here, aboard the Ceffyl Dŵr. Will you permit me to do so?”
“Bring yer hall here? What? With food and drink and women and music?”
“All that, and more.”
Tegid raised his brows and smiled. “What’r ye waitin’ fer?”
Elffin smiled. “It’s settled, then. Creirwy, Ula—would you mind coming with me?” The ladies went with Elffin back to the castle, leaving Taliesin behind with Tegid.
“Did you fare well this season?”
Tegid gave him a nod. “Well enough. We sailed down to the Mediterranean this summer. Brought back wine and olive oil, perfumes and silks.”
“Ah. So Creirwy got to choose this time?”
“How’d ye guess, lad?” Tegid laughed. “No, truly a good route it is. We always fare well. Just takes a bit of time, gettin’ down an’ back agin. Though I s’pose if it were easy, I’d be outta business.”
Within the hour, an army of servants came trailing down to the dock, laden with all manner of goods. In the parade were rugs, cushions, furs, glass lanterns, candles and low tables. The goods were brought onboard, and, before sundown, the ship looked very much like Elffin’s hall. Lanterns hung in great numbers all around, casting beautiful patterns and colors. A large number of musicians arrived soon after, whom Taliesin quickly befriended and played with.
Creirwy and Ula returned to the ship beautifully clad in embroidered dresses, their hair finely braided.
“Whoa! Would ye look at that! What a vision!” Tegid went to each of them and kissed their hands. “What beauties!” He turned to Taliesin and pointed at Creirwy. “Can ye believe it? That one. My daughter?” He looked her up and down and shook his head. “It canno’ be that I had anythin’ t’do with such a fine creature.” Tegid looked as if he might burst from happiness, a wide grin permanently fixed upon his enormous head.
Creirwy rolled her eyes. “Oh, Father, please.”
“You both look beautiful,” Taliesin confirmed with a smile. He looked around at the splendid ship and wished Arhianna were there. She would have been especially enchanted by it all.
True to Elffin’s word, they feasted aboard the Ceffyl Dŵr as finely as they would have in his great hall but beneath the natural majesty only a roof of stars could provide. The apple wine from Tegid’s enchanted cask flowed all night, coaxing poetry from shy tongues and dances from hesitant feet, until all curled up into the deep piles of furs, rosy with drunken contentment.
***
Taliesin visited the Oaks in the shipyard the following morning, and then returned to the village to call on Mabyn. He had feared asking his father about her, expecting she had passed long ago, but, to his surprise, found out she yet lived.
“Mabyn? Oh, yes. She’s still alive. Lives in the same cottage she always has. She must be nigh on a hundred years old by now but still as clever as a fox.”
Taliesin made his way through the village to her door, his heart beating with happy anticipation as he rapped on the frame and called her name. “Lady Mabyn?”
“Mmmmmmm?” an old voice hummed from inside.
“Lady Mabyn—it’s Taliesin, come to call on you.”
He heard shuffling inside and then a wrinkled yet familiar face appeared in the door. She looked up at him with cloudy eyes, and then smiled a nearly toothless grin. “What’s happened to you, child?”
Taliesin shook his head. “What do you mean?” He suspected she might not recognize him. “Do you know who I am?”
She nodded. “Oh, yes. But you’ve changed. What happened to your light? You used to look like you’d swallowed a star. What happened?”
“Life, I suppose.”
She smiled and patted him on the arm. “Life, was it?” She bent down and picked up two baskets that were sitting by the door. She held one out to him. “Come. Help an old woman.”
He followed her out of the village and along the coastal bluffs, helping her gather marsh orchid, stonecrop, kidney vetch and bird’s foot trefoil. The smell of the earth, plants and sea filled his mind with memories of the many walks they had shared before—back to a time when his hands were much smaller and his legs much shorter. Now, he struggled to tuck his tall frame down over the patches of herbs to harvest them. He glanced over at Mabyn, who moved from patch to patch like a rabbit, working each one over with relentless efficiency. Her basket was twice as full as his. Just as he resolved to double his efforts, he heard a woman’s voice call out his name. “Taliesin!”
He stood up and looked in the direction the voice had come from. “Arhianna?”
As if to answer him, Arhianna threw back her hood, jumped off her horse and ran toward him, laughing and waving. “Surprise!” she cried breathlessly.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came with Myrthin and the other Oaks. I found out the Ceffyl Dŵr was here and remembered what you said to me before you left. I want to sail to Eire with you. I’ll do anything—healer, cook—anything. I don’t much care. You have to convince Tegid to let me come.”
Taliesin smiled. “Of course, you can come. We could use your skills, both as a healer and Firebrand.”
When do we sail?”
“As soon as Uthyr and his men arrive.”
“Good. I’ll tell you all the news from home later. Right now, I need a bath. I’ll see you tonight.” She kissed his cheek and ran back to her horse.
He watched her ride away, feeling as if he were standing in a dream.
Mabyn patted him on the back. “You should marry her.”
“Marry her?”
“Aye, young fool. What are you waitin’ for? ‘Tis clear she loves you.
And I see trouble on the horizon for you. It’ll be better weathered with a companion.”
Mabyn never had minced words.
***
The night of Uthyr’s arrival, Elffin threw a feast that rivaled all feasts ever held within his hall. Red and gold banners hung from the rafters in the Pendragon’s honor, lit by the fire of a thousand candles. The music never ceased, nor did the dancers Elffin had employed. Never in his life had Taliesin seen dancers with such grace and power, nor such an astonishing array of them. Each one seemed more beautiful and enchanting than the last, and none looked like any other. The night began with a dancer whose skin was as dark as night. She wore a dress of many colors and moved as if she were running with the deer. She was followed by one as pale and unblemished as a new star with hair of gold.
“Are these women your father’s slaves?” Uthyr asked, never taking his eyes from the dancer.
“Slaves? Oh, no. My father does not keep slaves.”
“Then where have they come from? The dancers, the servants—I’ve never seen so many beautiful women in my life.”
“My grandfather had a well-known reputation as a patron of bards and musicians. He threw many feasts in his lifetime and paid well for the services of musicians and dancers. My father has simply carried on his tradition.”
Uthyr nodded, taking in the sights of the hall. “I spend too much time on the battlefield.”
Taliesin smiled but said nothing.
“That’s why I’m so eager to embark on this quest. This is a quest of the spirit, if these stones are what you say they are. I’m starving for beauty in my life.”
Taliesin nodded. “This, I understand.”
The revelry stretched on through the night, but the place reserved for Myrthin sat empty. Where is he? As he was pondering Myrthin’s strange behavior, someone grabbed his arm and startled him. He cried out in surprise.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Arhianna giggled.
“It’s fine.”
Arhianna narrowed her blue eyes on him. “Pendragon, may I have Taliesin’s company for a spell? The gentleman sitting next to me has retired for the night. I’m in need of conversation.”
Uthyr laughed and waved his hand. “I’m not his keeper! Take him!” He gave Taliesin a wink of encouragement.
Arhianna curtsied and took Taliesin by the hand to a quiet place. “Now, tell me what’s going on. You look worried.”
Arhianna always knew when something was bothering him, so he did not try to deny it. “Have you learned any more about Myrthin?”
She raised her brows. “Myrthin? Is that who’s got you so worked up?”
“I can’t figure him out. He went on and on about how he wanted nothing more than to shadow-walk and care for the grove. Yet, here he is—he’s already abandoned it. You say your mother is watching over it?
Arhianna nodded. “Yes. And I, for one, prefer it. Besides, it gives her something to do while Father’s away. He and Gareth are off trading now that the weather’s warmed up. It’s good for her.”
That alleviated some of Taliesin’s concern, for he had not forgotten his promise to Islwyn to ensure the grove was cared for.
“Tell me everything you know about him.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “I don’t know much. None of us do. I thought I might speak with him on the journey here, but he chose to ride by himself and keep his own company, even at night. To tell you the truth, I was surprised to learn he wished to be a part of this quest.” She cocked her head. “You don’t like him, do you?”
“I don’t trust him.”
She nodded. “I’m not certain I do, either. He hasn’t tried to foster relations with the clan at all. Well, except with Mother, of course. I think he’s in love with her. I know his visits make her uncomfortable. I wish Father would come home…”
“In love with your mother?” The idea of Myrthin attempting to seduce Lucia turned his stomach.
“She’s done nothing to encourage him, of course, but I can see the way he looks at her. Father wouldn’t like it.”
“Of course he wouldn’t!” Taliesin’s uneasiness grew. Oh, dear Islwyn, what manner of man have we let into the grove?
“Enough about Myrthin. Mother can take care of herself.”
“I suppose she can.”
Arhianna held her cup out for more mead. “Don’t worry about him. Have a drink. Be happy.” She glanced over at Ula. “Think of it—your mother, your father, you, me, Tegid, Creirwy, and the Pendragon, himself—all of us, together on this quest. I can’t think of anything more exciting, can you?”
Taliesin looked over to see his father gazing into Ula’s eyes and holding her hands. She was laughing at a story he was telling. He felt a rush of happiness.
“Taliesin?”
“Hmm?”
“When we reach Eire, I must go with you to find the stones.”
Taliesin looked over at Arhianna. “Why is that?”
“Well, it’s the other reason I was so insistent on coming. I’ve seen them in my dreams. You and I are standing in front of giant blue stones, hand in hand, together. I’ve had the same dream more than once.”
Taliesin felt chills run up his spine. “Tell me every detail you can remember.”
Arhianna closed her eyes. “The stones are blue-grey, the color of the sea when it’s rough. They’re as tall as Ash trees, slanted sideways—upwards, toward the summit of the mountain they’re jutting out of. They’re clustered together, many of the same size, in a clearing. The sky above us is stormy. It’s windy. My skin feels like ice. I’m afraid to touch them.”
Such a dream could not be ignored. Arhianna had described the stones he had seen in exact detail. He nodded. “We’ve seen the same vision, to be certain.”
Arhianna’s eyes lit up. “So you’ll let me come?”
Taliesin shook his head and smiled. “Please. I’ve known you long enough to know if I don’t let you come, you’ll just follow us in secret. I’d rather have you close so I know where you are. Your parents would never forgive me if anything happened to you.”
“You’re right. They wouldn’t.” She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Will you play something, now? I want to retire soon—the men are getting so drunk—some have already passed out, and Irwyn is staring at Creirwy like a lovestruck loon…Even Gorlois is drunk.” She shook her head at the dark duke, who sat scowling into the bottom of his drinking horn. “I spoke to him earlier tonight. He says Igerna is with child and that I should plan to visit her soon. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“It is,” Taliesin smiled. “Are you certain you wouldn’t prefer to head south to Cornwall rather than sail to Eire? I can send good escorts with you.”
She shook her head. “Nice try. Now, would you play, please? The musicians are good, but you’re denying your father’s guests what they truly deserve.”
He answered by taking up his harp and walking to the front of the hall. Someone noticed and cried out, “Master Taliesin’s to play!”
Whoops and cheers erupted in the hall, and everyone settled back to listen. He scanned the room, assessing his audience. It was only then that he noticed Myrthin’s face staring at him from the shadows, like a wolf about to strike.
***
The company met the following morning to plot a course for Eire and choose a place to land their ships. As Tegid could not go ashore, Elffin, Irwyn, and the rest of the captains came aboard the Ceffyl Dŵr to discuss their approach. They gathered around a large barrel, upon which Tegid had slapped a map down for them to look at. “Welcome aboard, lads. Gather ‘round. This here be Eire, an’ I’d bet me ship no one o’ ye knows the curves o’ that green goddess like I do. So if yer smart, ye’ll listen t’ me.” He looked each man in the eye before continuing. “Mount Killaraus lays in the southwest region of Eire, where the mountains are tallest. That’s where our stones are.”
For the better part of two hours, Tegid explained the best course across the Irish Sea and the most suitable strip of
coastline to land their ships. Taliesin noticed Gorlois and his men could not help staring at him. It was not every day one encountered a man nearly ten feet tall.
“I’ve heard tales o’ these stones young Taliesin speaks of. I’ve no seen ‘em, but one thing’s fer certain—they’ll no be easy t’ move, so ye’ll no want t’ move ‘em any further than ye must. Pity I canno’ come ashore t’help.”
“Great Tegid speaks the truth,” a new voice said. Everyone turned to discover Myrthin had come aboard. “That’s not your only challenge. Gillomanius’ son and his men will be waiting for you.”
Tegid gave him a dour nod. “We sail at dawn.”
***
The harbor looked like a disturbed anthill the next morning, with hundreds of men moving up and down the docks carrying last-minute goods and their personal effects down to the harbor. Once all the crews were aboard their vessels, the shipmasters commenced yelling orders. Tegid’s voice boomed above the rest, filling the wind, sea and ships with his baritone resonance. Oars creaked in response, and Taliesin’s stomach leapt in excitement as the ships left the harbor for the open sea.
“Ho! Taliesin!” Tegid signaled to him. “Sing for the men. They’ll be rowin’ ‘til the wind picks up, and I’ve no idea when that’ll be.”
Glad to be of service, Taliesin took up a drum and sang common songs everyone knew. Soon, all were bellowing the tune and rowing in unison. They raised their sails not long after, and the wind picked up to carry them to Eire.
***
Tegid navigated them to empty shores where they could land safely. Uthyr sent a messenger to the son of Gillomanius once they landed. “Tell him we’ve not come to make war, nor do we desire land, goods, or slaves, but wish only to quarry stone from Mount Killaraus. If we are left to do so in peace, Uthyr Pendragon will consider his father’s foolishness in joining Pasgen forgiven.”
“And if he refuses?”
Uthyr raised his brows.
“Understood, Pendragon.” The messenger turned and left.
