Shadow of Stone (The Pendragon Chronicles)

by Ruth Nestvold

  But.

  On the one side was Arthur's neglect of Ginevra; on the other, there was Arthur himself, one of the best and fairest men she knew, the man besides Ambrosius Aurelianus who was responsible for banishing the threat of the encroaching Saxons — but also a man at times horribly incompetent on an personal basis. Arthur's talent and passion lay in war, battle strategy, and political developments. And as beautiful and good-natured as Ginevra was, conversations of a political nature held little interest for her, and battle strategy none at all. Given Arthur's interests, it was no wonder they had lived all these years side-by-side without becoming much more than acquaintances who occasionally slept together.

  Yseult sighed and sat up. Obviously, she was not going to be able to sleep yet. She might as well make use of the time by writing the letters she needed to write: to Enid, to Brangwyn, and first and foremost, to Cador.

  * * * *

  Yseult to Cador, greetings.

  I am writing this in Caer Leon, where I arrived today, only to find you gone, on campaign to Gaul to protect Armorica from the Frankish conqueror. I so wish you had still been here when I arrived; I heard from Gareth that you have not had any of my letters to you since last summer, before the civil war among the Laigin broke out — and I was trapped in the middle. But I am safe now, and I will tell you more of that when we see each other again.

  The news I have is great. She sleeps in the corner of the room, and her name is Riona. Your daughter, Cador. I am sorry I did not write you of my pregnancy last summer, but I did not want to worry you, knowing how you felt about the risk of having a child. I swear, I did not intentionally become pregnant without your knowledge. I suspect, given my age and some midterm bleedings I interpreted wrong, I grew lapse in taking the herbs I needed. I will not ask your forgiveness, because the result of my mistake is a lovely baby girl who is as healthy as I could wish, especially now that I am nearing forty years of age.

  I pray to all the gods of my tribe, and yours, and Britain's — even the Christian if it helps — that you will return home safely to experience the joy of holding a child of your own in your arms. You were always so good with the young ones; your gods cannot deny you this now, or so I tell myself.

  I will do my best to keep an eye on developments in Caer Leon while I am here; Modrun tells me that you are informed.

  Your Yseult

  Yseult to Brangwyn, greetings.

  Dear cousin, there is so much to tell, I hardly know where to start. No, that is not entirely true — the greatest news is of course my daughter Riona, born just before the birthing of the first lambs in Druim Dara. She is healthy, despite all she has gone through already in her few short months.

  Perhaps you do not want to know this, but I saw your mother Nemain while I was in Eriu. She came with Bodb Derg to persuade my mother to join them in the hills of the Feadh Ree — and they succeeded. After the birth of Riona, Yseult the Wise retreated to the sidhe with others of her kind, and I doubt I will ever see her again. It is hard.

  Illann is now king of the Laigin and has taken Nath into fosterage. And Brigid had herself ordained by the Christian priest Mel and now allows both acolytes of Danu and the Christian goddess Maria to tend the sacred fire. She says it is the only way to keep our beliefs alive. Her arguments make some sense to me, but still I do not understand how she could consent to such a compromise. She is representative of the threefold goddess — is there nothing in her soul that cries out at the reduction of female divinity to the role of a god's mother?

  But enough of that — the problems here in Caer Leon are of a much more physical nature, the fulfillment of the complications I saw in Celliwig before I sailed to my homeland from Dyn Tagell.

  Forgive my handwriting — I run out of room. I hope our paths will cross again soon and I can tell you more of what I experienced in Eriu.

  Your Yseult

  Brangwyn to Yseult, greetings.

  A daughter! I congratulate you more than I can say in a simple letter. And what a lovely name. But I commiserate with you that Cador left for Gaul and cannot hold his first child in his arms.

  Judual is in Armorica with the armies of Arthur, but to my great good fortune, Kurvenal is here with me, responsible for the defense of the Dumnonian coast north to Abona. The sub-kingdom of Cerniw has made its own arrangements; Ginevra has had a steward for some time now to see to her business there, as well as fighters for defense, just as we do in Dyn Tagell. Arthur took over three thousand warriors with him to Gaul, however, and I can only hope our former enemies are still too weak to take advantage of that.

  Your news from Eriu is disturbing, but that life seems far away from me now. At least you and Nath survived the upheavals. We were very worried about you.

  Send me news when you plan to leave Caer Leon. I will meet you in Abona and travel on with you to Lindinis. Then we can speak of all these changes in more detail.

  I hope this finds you and Riona in good health.

  Your cousin Brangwyn

  * * * *

  With only enough troops left behind for defense, the summer was quiet in Caer Leon. Yseult visited Gareth and his family and Ginevra regularly; most evenings she spent with Modrun in her townhouse while she waited for news from Cador and Armorica and watched Riona grow.

  But the first important message that arrived was not from Armorica. Enid wrote to inform them that Cai (who had been visiting in Lindinis) was on his way to join Arthur with two shiploads of much-needed mounts from Cador's stables. Yseult's servant Sevi brought the letter, along with a cart carrying the belongings Yseult had requested.

  "Our prayers have been answered that you are well — and with the added blessing of a healthy daughter!" Enid's missive concluded. "But now our prayers must be that Arthur has enough sense to take Cai back into his service. I hope you will be able to come home soon so that I may see my granddaughter. Your Enid."

  Yseult lowered the letter and gazed at Sevi. "Enid says nothing of herself. I hope she is well?"

  Sevi grinned. "Better than well, Lady. I have never seen her so happy as when she received news of the babe. There were tears in her eyes. I hope you will be able to return to Lindinis soon."

  "As do I, Sevi. But for now I must remain here — Ginevra needs me." That wasn't entirely true, but it was easier than explaining the complex but incomplete premonitions plaguing both her and Modrun, and the feeling that she had to stay in Caer Leon. It would not have interested Sevi anyway. "Besides, news from Armorica will arrive here before it will arrive anywhere else."

  "True."

  Yseult didn't understand the feeling that she should remain, since she seemed to be doing so little good. Whenever she tried to start a discussion with Ginevra that touched on either Cai or Medraut, the other woman ignored her efforts. Instead, they played with Riona. And when they did talk, Ginevra's thoughts and fears were with her nephew by marriage rather than her husband.

  It was nearly the dog days of summer when they finally had news from Armorica, but it came in a very different form than they expected: Medraut arrived leading an army of refugees.

  Arthur's nephew had returned to Caer Leon.

  * * * *

  When Medraut entered the garrison walls, he led mostly women and children, and only a handful of men.

  "I was commanded by Arthur to bring them to safety," he told Gareth and the rest of those who had gathered in the courtyard of the principia. Yseult saw his eyes widen briefly when he noticed her, but he soon had himself under control.

  "Our village was in danger of being taken by Chlodovech," one of the women said. "We were lucky to flee with our lives."

  "You are welcome in Caer Leon," Gareth said.

  "Are there any messages from Cador or Kustennin?" Yseult asked, although she had little hope.

  Medraut shook his head. "We did not know that you had returned from Eriu."

  "We will discuss the news from Gaul later," Gareth threw in. He turned to Ginevra, Modrun and Yseult. "For now, we need to
arrange places for these people to stay. Could you see to it that some of the empty barracks are made ready?"

  Yseult could feel Ginevra's reluctance; she wanted nothing more now than to steal away with Medraut. Yseult took her elbow. "We would be happy to. Come Ginevra, Modrun."

  * * * *

  Ginevra and Medraut soon resumed their affair, to the point where people were beginning to talk — people other than Yseult and Modrun. Yseult knew that Ginevra thought they were being discrete, but she and Medraut were together often, and hiding her feelings was not one of Ginevra's strong points.

  Yseult tried repeatedly to initiate an intimate discussion with the queen, her fears growing that Ginevra might do something imprudent. But although Ginevra had little talent in keeping her feelings hidden, whenever Yseult tried to steer the conversation in the direction of Arthur or Medraut, the younger woman changed the subject.

  Yseult was well aware of the irony of her position, wanting to persuade another woman that her affair was wrong. She could understand Ginevra's frustration in her marriage with Arthur, but Yseult simply did not trust Medraut. Calculating and manipulative, he reminded her of her first husband, Marcus.

  Ginevra thought she was happy with Medraut, but what would she do if he truly was responsible for the death of her son Loholt? Yseult did not think Ginevra was one of those women who could love the murderer of her child. But Yseult would lose all credibility with Ginevra if she suggested such a thing without proof.

  They had to find the beggar who had accused Cai.

  * * * *

  Cador was looking forward to a bed again. They had fought Chlodovech's forces back from the Armorican border at the battle of the River Vicenonia, and now both their armies were licking their wounds. Unfortunately for them, Chlodovech was probably even now sending for reinforcements from that unending supply of fighting men the Germanic tribes seemed to command. At least in Britain, the source of Germanic warriors had apparently dried up after the battles of Caer Baddon and Aquae Sulis. But in Britain the tribes were Saxons and Angles. These were Franks — who according to legend had successfully helped fight back no less than Attila the Hun. On the other hand, legends of Attila's death also told of a woman and poison.

  Perhaps that was what they needed against Chlodovech.

  Most of Arthur's army had to make do with a camp outside of the city walls, but Danyel, the magistrate of Riedonum, had promised the kings and companions among their ranks rooms and beds. Riedonum was much like the Roman cities of Britain, showing both decay and attempts to stop it. Cador saw how cracks in plaster had been repaired with inferior material, how former buildings had become pasture, the stones gradually carried away for new houses. East of Riedonum, Aegidius and his son Syagrius had maintained Roman authority in northern Gaul until Syagrius was defeated and killed by Chlodovech, but their territory had been cut off from Rome for decades after southern Gaul was conquered by Burgundians and Visigoths.

  Grateful that there were no barbaric Franks pounding at the gates of the city, Danyel had prepared a huge feast for Arthur's army. Tables groaning with meats and cheeses and fruit and wine lined the walls of the great hall in the basilica. Cador breathed in the welcome smells. Not only a bed, good food too.

  "At least Danyel knows how to show thanks," Bedwyr said with an appreciative glance at an artfully presented roast boar taking up most of one table.

  "Would you like some, sir?" said the servant behind the table.

  "Excellent idea."

  Just as Cador was about to help himself to some of the succulent meat as well, another servant approached. "I was told I could find Cai, Bedwyr, and Cador here. There are messages for them."

  They eagerly put down their plates to take the letters. News from home.

  Cador broke the seal on the folded sheets, doing his best to keep his hands from shaking. He scanned the lines and drew in a deep breath. Yseult was alive! It was undeniably her unusual handwriting in the Latin script, her unique signature. He turned back to the words themselves, trying to make sense of them through the haze of joyous relief.

  He read the words and then read them again, falling into the nearest chair. It couldn't be true.

  Kustennin hurried over to him. "Cador, what news?" he asked, his voice worried.

  Cador looked up from the letter at his stepson, dazed. "You have a sister. Riona. I'm a father."

  For a brief moment, there was complete silence among the men nearby. Then Kustennin pulled him up into an embrace that nearly knocked the wind out of him, while Bedwyr and Cai pounded him on the back.

  "Congratulations!"

  "Excellent news!"

  "And Yseult is well?"

  Cador nodded. "She wrote repeatedly while she was in Eriu, but she suspects her messages were hindered by the war among the Laigin tribes." He gazed at the letter again, still unable to believe it. "I'm glad I didn't know about her pregnancy."

  "That would have been torture," Cai agreed.

  "And how long has it been since you have seen your wife?" Gaheris asked.

  At the question, everyone fell silent. Kustennin would have attacked Gaheris, but Cador gripped the young man's elbow in a vise, checking him.

  Gawain stepped between them, sending his brother an angry look. "Far too long," he said, raising his glass. "I propose a toast to Riona and her parents, Cador and Yseult! May she be as fair as her mother and as loyal as her father!"

  Cador was pulled into a series of friendly hugs, while his back was pounded so often and so hard, he feared he would end up with broken bones.

  He shot Gawain a grateful glance, which Yseult's former lover acknowledged with a nod. The damage had been done, however; now Cador could not help thinking about how long he and Yseult had been apart, how easy it would be for her to change the babe's birth date. Was Riona really his?

  No, he could not think about that or he would drive himself insane. At least Yseult was alive and safe. That she was in Caer Leon — had been searching for him — surely that was reason to believe Riona his.

  And then there was the tone of the letter itself. There was worry there, and a hint of apology, but no defensiveness, no deceit. He wasn't arrogant or deluded enough to imagine that he could always understand the woman he had married — he had seriously misjudged her in the heat of the moment before she left for Eriu — but, on the other hand, he had known Yseult more than half his life, and much of that time they'd been friends. Theirs was a very different relationship than that between Yseult and Marcus, whom she'd been forced to marry. Somehow he couldn't believe that she would foist another man's child on him as she had on her first husband; they had been through too much together for that.

  But the fact remained that he hadn't seen Yseult for over a year — and now she had a daughter. There was no way he'd ever be sure the child was his.

  The real question was: could he live with that?

  * * * *

  Cador to Yseult, greetings.

  Your letter reached us in Riedonum, where we are waiting for reinforcements from the kings of Armorica after pushing the armies of Chlodovech back across the River Vicenonia. The break in the fighting is welcome — as was your letter, more than I can say, more than I can even comprehend at this moment. You are safe! And with a daughter! What luck is this, in the middle of all these new troubles? I hardly know what to think, what to write, how to react, it is all so strange and sudden.

  I have told Arthur that I would like to return to Britain to see you and Riona — what a lovely name! Arthur says that I make my own decisions, but Chlodovech is not yet defeated, and until we receive adequate reinforcements to compensate for our losses in recent battles, he needs every man among us. It might be possible for me to travel with only a personal guard, leaving the bulk of the Dumnonian troops in Kustennin's capable hands. Yseult, your son is developing into a veritable military genius. Who would have thought it? I'm sure he does not have it from the years he was in fosterage with me, and Drystan, while an impressive fighter,
was not a warrior at heart. Perhaps it is the Erainn fighting blood that runs in his veins.

  Arthur has accepted Cai back into the ranks of his companions, but the camaraderie is not the same. And no one knows what will happen when we all return to Caer Leon.

  I am joyous to finally have heard from you again and hope that this letter finds you and Riona well.

  Your Cador

  Yseult to Cador, greetings.

  I would be more than happy to see you again, but I understand if you cannot get away from the fighting in Gaul. Perhaps Arthur will soon be able to put Chlodovech to flight and you can return home for good, all of you. It is much to be hoped for that Arthur return soon. Ginevra will not allow me to bring up the subject of her husband, or her lover either, for all she claims to regard me as a friend. Still, we see each other nearly every day, and she is a favorite with Riona. I think she envies me the baby.

  As to Cai, Modrun and I have come up with a plan we hope will lead to Cai's rehabilitation. Modrun has undertaken the long journey north to Eburacum to speak with Peredur about the beggar, the only witness to Cai's alleged murder of Loholt. If she can mine Peredur's memories, perhaps we can find him and question him ourselves. I almost envy her — in this heat, it is a good time to travel north.

  Riona is well. She is crawling now and even trying to pull herself up on things. I wish you were here to watch her grow and learn and change, Cador.

  I hope this finds you in good health and far from any battles.

  Your Yseult

  Cador to Yseult, greetings.

  Unfortunately, Chlodovech recovered from his losses much sooner than we expected. We have word that he is once again marching west from Parisius, while Arthur has not yet even received reinforcements from the kings of Armorica. What is more, the Frankish army is said to have swelled to numbers as great as before. So while I can set your mind at ease that I am in good health and there is at present no battle nearby, I fear one is on its way to us. Arthur will not retreat, so pray that reinforcements arrive before Chlodovech does. At least there is still a river between him and us.