“Caer Fawr, in Powys.” Cade fell into step beside Rhun, thinking hard. “I wish Taliesin had been with us tonight. This is something he should have been able to foresee.”
“He doesn’t see at all anymore, does he?” Rhun said.
“No,” Cade said.
“Even had he foreseen the events of this night, would you have been well served by him telling you of them in advance? Would we have done differently than we did?”
Cade thought about that for a moment. “Perhaps not.” Again, Taliesin’s first words of advice came to him: Without the prophecy, would the man still act? Or does the prophecy determine the action? Only one who knows himself can answer that.
Did he know himself? He used to think he did. Now… maybe he should ask Rhiann.
Chapter Ten
Rhiann
Cade and Rhiann left Deganwy for Dinas Bran at sunset two days later. They were doing as Taliesin had asked, as a precursor to facing the Saxons. Taliesin thought they had a week or two of breathing space before an actual assault would come. But no more than that.
“Are you sure you’re all right with leaving so soon after the wedding?” Cade said as they set out along the Conwy River, heading south towards the old Roman road that would take them to Dinas Bran. Their men carried a dozen torches to light up the night, and for once it wasn’t raining. They weren’t moving particularly quickly either, and Rhiann hadn’t even changed into her male garments, but wore a dress with a voluminous skirt designed for riding.
“I’m with you,” Rhiann said. It hadn’t exactly been the wedding she’d planned and hoped for, but she’d ended up married to Cade and that was all that mattered. “Besides, Taliesin is sure that this is the right course.”
“The Saxons gather in Shrewsbury,” Cade said, “near the old Roman fort of Viroconium. We must prepare to counter them.”
“Going to Dinas Bran now is the first step towards doing that,” Taliesin said from Rhiann’s other side.
“What I don’t understand is the Saxons’ purpose,” Rhiann said. “Why do they confront us now?”
“Cerdic of Wessex wants Morgan of Powys’ rich farmland, even if Morgan doesn’t want to face the magnitude of the threat,” Cade said. “The Mercian alliance with Gwynedd, which my father made and Cadfael confirmed, only bought us time. The Saxons still want what we have. With Cadfael dead, they know I won’t be as easy a mark, and they seek to strike before I’ve fully consolidated my power.”
“Are you sure they even know that my father is dead?” Rhiann said.
“Of course they d—” Cade began to speak and then broke off. He turned to look at Taliesin. “Don’t they?”
“Did you send them word?” Taliesin said.
“No,” Cade said.
“It isn’t as if he hasn’t been a little busy,” Rhiann said.
“It would be more normal than not to have sent him a message, however,” Taliesin said, “at least to tell Penda that you claimed the throne of Gwynedd. Didn’t you think to inform him of the severance of the treaty?”
Cade blinked, and Rhiann knew what was going through his mind: there was a lot more to governing than winning battles, and he would have thought that someone would have mentioned diplomacy a little sooner.
“Penda wouldn’t have heard from Cadfael since February,” Rhiann said. “Surely he must realize that something is amiss?”
Cade laughed. “That was the day you refused to marry Peada and we killed his warriors while escaping. That would be reason enough for Penda to assume Cadfael has turned against him.”
“So Penda might attack us out of revenge for that?” Rhiann’s heart leaped to her throat.
Cade put a hand on her arm. “Do you regret refusing him?”
“Of course not!” Rhiann said. “But if that’s true, this is my fault!”
“If we meet Penda’s army in Powys, it will be Penda’s doing,” Cade said. “You are not responsible for another’s actions.”
“But—” Rhiann still felt sick.
“Wasn’t the purpose of your escape from Aberffraw to save your husband’s life?” Taliesin said.
That brought Rhiann back to her senses. “This isn’t going to be easy. Penda knows his ground and has fought over it before. I was only seven at the time, but I remember what an important victory it was for Penda and my father, in defeating King Oswin of Northumbria. Cadfael thought he’d be crowned High King after that.”
“Even then, the kings of Wales didn’t trust him enough to grant it to him,” Cade said. “For good reason.”
“Who holds Dinas Bran now?” Rhiann had never seen the lonely fortress that her father’s men had described to her, squatting on its mountain a thousand feet above the valley floor.
“Last I heard, it was abandoned,” Taliesin said.
Rhiann stared at him. “Abandoned? It’s the seat of the High King!”
“And how long has it been since we’ve had a High King, Rhiannon?” Cade said.
“Since your father died, I know,” Rhiann said. “But I hadn’t realized things had decayed so far in twenty years.”
“The alliance with the Saxons—by both my father and Cadfael—allowed the Welsh to become more comfortable with their lives and lands than was wise,” Cade said. “We became complacent.”
“So why won’t you ally with Penda too?” Rhiann said. “It would be a logical course of action. He is your uncle.”
“You can’t seriously be asking me that, Rhiann,” Cade said.
“It would give you breathing room to strengthen your position as King of Gwynedd,” Rhiann said, “and give you time to convince all these Welsh kings to band together instead of taking on the Saxons separately because they don’t see the need to work with one another.”
“Peada was going to marry you by force,” Cade said. “How can you suggest that I ally with any Saxon?”
“It isn’t I who’s doing the asking, Cade,” Rhiann said. “You are half-Saxon yourself. Penda is your uncle! Your men, your allies—all will wonder why the change in policy. You need to have an answer before we find ourselves attacked by an overwhelming Saxon force that refuses to talk peace.”
“Isn’t it enough that Cadfael and Penda—or his emissaries—find it convenient to ally themselves with demons?” Cade said.
Rhiann laughed. “I suppose that’s a compelling argument.”
Taliesin rubbed the stubby blonde hairs on his chin that refused to grow to a man’s length. “To my mind, it’s time the Welsh stopped dying in Saxon lands. It would be one thing if the alliance was a treaty of non-aggression. It’s quite another to march our people east and north to die for Penda when the Saxons have never died for us.”
“My father was still trying to win back the lands that Vortigern had lost,” Cade said. “He thought an alliance with Penda might help him gain territory from other Saxon regions. I have no such hope. The Saxons are too many now, and we understand them too little.”
“And it was only Penda who increased his reach, not your father—not mine,” Rhiann said. “I wonder if it wasn’t more of a devil’s bargain Penda offered rather than a promise to work together in mutual trust and agreement: ally with me or I’ll attack you.”
Cade smiled. “Can you imagine Cadfael experiencing mutual trust with anyone? It’s horrifying to think on.”
Rhiann couldn’t help but agree with that. Cadfael may have been her father, but he was a tyrant and a bully. The ambush and murder of all of Cade’s men, including his foster father, was just the last in a long list of atrocities Cadfael had ordered. That Cade had any companions left was due more to chance and good fortune than planning. Back in February, he’d left Rhun and a handful of his men at Dinas Emrys to guard the fort—and that was the only reason they were still alive.
And now those companions were scattered: Rhun had left for western Gwynedd with Siawn, as had Tudur, each to marshal men under their jurisdiction. Cade had sent Dafydd, Bedwyr, Hywel, and Goronwy south as Dafydd had wanted. Daf
ydd was for Ceredigion, in southwest Wales, and the other three had gone to Powys and Gwent, in hopes of gathering an alliance of kings. They would meet again at Caer Fawr, in Powys, in ten days’ time.
Although Dinas Bran was the seat of the High King, in these dangerous times it was too far for the southern and western kings to travel. Not that they couldn’t have made the journey north as easily as Cade could come south, but it would leave their lands unguarded for too long. Asking them to come all the way to Gwynedd to meet him—perhaps even to crown him High King—would be one request too many.
Caer Fawr was a fortified outpost near the road from the old Roman fort of Caersws and within striking distance of Shrewsbury, where the Saxons gathered. The other kings who’d attended the wedding had sworn their allegiance to Cade, some more out of fear than loyalty, given the appalling events of that day. The question that remained unanswered was whether or not they were willing to give Cade fighting men as well. That was always the question.
Other than Taliesin, Geraint was the only close companion to accompany them. He rode at the rear, taking what was usually Rhun’s place and allowing Cade to lead the three dozen men-at-arms and knights. The company reached the Roman road at the Conwy River crossing and turned east. Soon, the land became more difficult and forested and they could no longer see the sea. They skirted hills and mountains that enclosed them on all sides.
“How long do we have to ride?” Rhiann said.
“Denbigh is just a few miles further on. I hope to reach it by morning, and we’ll spend the day there.” Cade glanced at her. “I would hope you could sleep today.”
Rhiann pulled her cloak closer around her shoulders and gripped the reins more tightly. The wind whipped her face and the branches above their heads swayed with it. She glanced towards the woods to her left and thought she saw something move among the trees. She peered closer but could make out nothing more than the shadows of the trees themselves, eerie in the half light of their torches. A chill ran down Rhiann’s spine.
“What is it?” Cade said.
“I don’t know.” Rhiann focused again on the trees. For the next mile, she watched and waited, splitting her attention between the road and the woods surrounding them. Then she saw it again—or rather, sensed it. She put out a hand to Cade, and he slowed.
Geraint trotted his horse along the side of the column to the front. “There’s something there. Taliesin?”
But the bard merely hunched his shoulders and didn’t answer.
“Rhiann has sensed it too,” Cade said. “It isn’t overtly hostile, at least not yet. We should keep moving. The sooner we get to Denbigh the better.”
They rode on. Rhiann was reminded of that endless journey in the dark from Bryn y Castell to Caersws a month before. She’d been fighting her love for Cade then, not married to him, and certainly that made a difference in her heart. But it still beat fast. Her fear, that night, had been about what was up ahead, not what was behind or beside her. “Can you see it?”
“No,” Cade said. “No more than you. But it races beside us.”
“Like … a boar?”
“I wouldn’t say so,” Taliesin said. “This is something different. More ominous.”
“So you can sense it,” Cade said.
“Of course,” Taliesin said. “But its intent is not clear to me. I suggest we ride faster.”
Boar or not, the menace rode at Rhiann’s shoulder, though whenever she looked into the woods, she saw nothing but endless trees. There was something about the darkness that pressed on her. She wished they could have traveled during the day. In daylight, this thing wouldn’t have menaced them, she was sure, and the trees would have waved in the breeze as if nothing stalked underneath the branches.
But that would have been impossible for Cade. The forest was just leafing out in spring, normally her favorite time of year. Tonight, the trees appeared black and menacing, glistening damply in the moonlight from the shower that had just passed.
Taliesin sat completely silent, beyond that one comment. Both Rhiann and Cade kept glancing at him, hoping for insight or at the very least an appropriate poem, chant, or incantation that might drive it away.
Finally, Taliesin spoke, and the words when they came were obviously reluctant. “I’ve told you. I no longer see—I am no longer of any help to you whatever. For now, I remain a dead weight around your neck.”
“Even were you in your dotage, you would never hinder or hang on me in any way,” Cade said. “You are still wise, even if your knowledge is no longer augmented by the sight.”
The murkiness of the night was drifting towards morning when they finally approached the outskirts of Denbigh. This fort was situated on a rocky height, with the ridgeline of mountains behind it.
“You should travel on without me,” Cade said as they pulled to a halt under the gatehouse of the fort. “This creature, whatever it is, won’t harm you in daylight.”
That was close to what Rhiann had thought herself, though she wouldn’t consider riding without her husband. Fortunately, instead of leaving it to her, Taliesin told him he was ridiculous.
“You claim to respect my wisdom, so listen to it now,” Taliesin said. “That is a foolish idea. No good would come of it.”
Cade pursed his lips but didn’t contradict him, for which Rhiann was glad. As much as she feared this shadow, it hadn’t harmed them so far, and leaving Cade to travel on his own or with a smaller escort, would have been far worse than living with the fear.
Or so it seemed while they were within the safety of the fort. But when Rhiann tried to sleep, the light in the room and the memory of the shadow under the trees, kept her awake. By evening, she felt as if she had sand under her eyelids.
They’d survived one night, but they had two more before they would reach Dinas Bran. Cade tried again, just before they left the fort, to change the plan. “I will ride ahead. It will follow me.”
“Are you sure of that?” Taliesin said.
Rhiann sensed that he meant to sound witty, but she heard fear in his voice, and a possible truth hit her: this could be something that stalked Taliesin, not Cade. “No. We ride together or not at all.”
Taliesin shot her a glance that told her he’d heard her thoughts. She didn’t care. It seemed to her that Taliesin was torn between admitting his need for Cade’s protection and fearing that he was putting them all in danger. In truth, if he needed help, he had only to ask. He should know better than to be so stubborn. But then, her husband was equally recalcitrant. Fortunately, in this case, Cade didn’t need more persuading.
The shadow haunted them as they rode.
“Let’s just go in and get it,” Geraint said, finally, his patience stretched too thin.
“No,” Taliesin. “That is what it wants. If you were to enter the woods, it would lead you on, and we would lose you.”
“It,” Cade said. “You mean Mabon? Or Camulos?”
Talisein shook his head. “I’m not sure this is Mabon’s doing.”
“Then who?” Rhiann said.
Taliesin shook his head again. “I can’t—” He stopped and tried again. “I don’t know.”
Another night passed, and then another day. Three hours out of Dinas Bran, it happened.
A man in the middle of the company was first to call a warning. “Watch out!”
Rhiann, whose head had been sinking to her chin, jerked awake just in time to find Cade’s arms wrapped around her. He dragged her from her horse, and she sprawled across his lap, her face in his chest.
“Don’t look.”
She didn’t even think to struggle, so commanding was his voice. “What’s happening!” Her voice went high in fear, but Cade answered, as calm as ever.
“Something you don’t need to see.” But then he raised his chin. “Hold! Hold I say!”
All around her men shouted, and swords clashed, not obeying Cade, which was almost more horrible than the fear of what surrounded them that he refused to let her see. From som
ewhere to her left, Taliesin chanted words in a language she didn’t understand, and all the while, Cade hugged her to him. She wished she could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his chest, but it was like being pressed against a pillar, though one that was more secure than any support she’d ever known.
After a short while, the noise of fighting faded, and Cade eased his hold on Rhiann. She kept her face in his chest, however, afraid to look at what had happened to her friends and companions. “Is Geraint—”
“Taliesin protected him, but he couldn’t save everyone.”
Rhiann raised her head to look into Cade’s face, and he shifted with her so she could see Taliesin and Geraint. She didn’t know what Taliesin had done to their friend, but it couldn’t have been pleasant since Geraint lay on the ground beneath him, unmoving, if not unconscious, with Taliesin straddling him. Taliesin held his staff out in front of him with both hands clenched around the middle, as if he planned to spar with it. Perhaps he had. All around them, their men moaned in pain, some with bleeding wounds, others with hands to heads that had suffered heavy blows. One man threw up beside the road. There was no sign of any enemy who might have attacked them.
“What happened?” Rhiann said.
“A malevolent force.” Cade nodded at Taliesin, who lowered his staff and crouched beside Geraint.
“Up,” he said.
Geraint put a hand to his head. “What did you do to me?”
“Stressed your throat until you passed out,” Taliesin said. “Better that than allow you to run one of your own men through.”
And as Rhiann looked around at the fallen men, she realized that was exactly what had happened. “Do you mean to say that they did this to each other?”
Cade forced out a breath. “Yes. When the shadow overcame us, it drove them mad. They fell upon each other until Taliesin was able to drive it back, into the woods.”
“But you were immune?” Rhiann said.
“Of course,” Cade said.
“As was I,” Taliesin said, “but only because I could see through it and could name its core.”
The Pendragon's Quest (The Last Pendragon Saga Book 4) Page 9
