Chronicle of Ages

by Traci Harding

  At this point Rhun had a sharp stabbing pain in his heart, recalling Vortipor’s dying words. Rhun looked to Bryce, who was staring him back; he’d obviously recalled the comment also. Seated beside Bryce was Blain, who had turned away from the High Merlin and was rolling his eyes back in his head. The performance was for the benefit of Elidyr of Reged’s amusement, who also appeared sceptical about the High Merlin’s spiel.

  ‘Few of us here today still recall the wrath of the Night Hunter, who laid to waste half the armies of Dyfed and Gwent twenty years ago.’ Only Bryce and Selwyn nodded in accord with Taliesin’s words. ‘And it wast only upon Maelgwn’s agreement to rule in the best interests of the Otherworld, that by the power of the elements, all the lives lost that dreadful night were restored.’ It was obvious that only half the men present considered the legend an issue at all, but they kept their disbelief to themselves in the hope of getting on with the proceedings all the faster. ‘So choose thy High King wisely, gentlemen,’ Taliesin summed up, hoping that he wasn’t wasting his breath. ‘For this be the way and the will of the Goddess.’

  ‘So be it!’ most were more than eager to announce, and Taliesin again stepped into the background to allow destiny to run its course.

  When all had recorded their vote, Selwyn collected them. He carried the ballots forth and handed them to the High Merlin, who read the results to the whole assembly.

  ‘Rhun,’ Taliesin read the first, placing it aside to form a pile for the candidate. ‘Blain,’ Taliesin placed this vote aside in its own pile. ‘Rhun, Rhun, Rhun, Blain, Rhun, Blain, Blain, Blain.’ The Merlin paused before opening the deciding ballot.

  ‘Good grief, they art tied,’ Bryce noted, and the tension heightened. Blain had stopped breathing and Rhun bowed his head, already knowing what the ballot paper said.

  Taliesin opened the last vote, seemingly surprised by what he read. ‘Urien,’ he announced, disillusioned; with eleven Kings on the council the last thing he’d expected was a draw.

  Urien, however, burst into a huge smile, ‘Many thanks to whomever.’ He appeared highly honoured to have been considered a good candidate by at least one person present.

  ‘So now what?’ Blain wondered out loud, a tad annoyed at the delay in a result.

  ‘It seems clear that we must vote again with Rhun and Blain as the only candidates,’ Taliesin decreed.

  Rhun gave a heavy exhalation at the decision. Urien had been his choice, so his was the deciding vote.

  If thou art to head my council, Rhun, son of Maelgwn, thee must take up the challenge willingly, for it will not be an easy path for thee.

  Rhun’s eyes darted around the table to see if anyone else present had heard Keridwen speak. He recognised the Goddess’ distinctive voice from a previous encounter at the time of his inauguration. None of the men at the table appeared to have heard anything, but Taliesin and Selwyn were looking straight at Rhun. He closed his eyes so as not to be swayed by anyone — if he had just voted for Blain as he had said he would, Blain would be High King and he wouldn’t be in this uncomfortable predicament. Yet something about the way Blain had withdrawn from his touch the day before made Rhun feel that he might have something to hide. Rhun looked to Blain, and caught his gaze. Rhun had mentioned Urien to him as a possible candidate and the peculiar look upon Blain’s face seemed to indicate that he might have put two and two together. The question was, did he really feel Blain would make a better High King than himself? Vortipor obviously hadn’t thought so. Was it ego or commonsense urging him to take the difficult path that the Goddess had advised lay in store? Would a vote for Blain make this path easier or more difficult?

  ‘Long live Rhun, High King of allied Briton!’ Taliesin announced, relieved beyond belief by the outcome of the second vote.

  ‘Long live the High King!’ All stood to respond, except Blain.

  The King of Powys was staring at Rhun across the table, trying to discern if he’d cast the deciding vote as suspected.

  Rhun was diverted from the staring match by the congratulations and pats on the back from his colleagues. The next time he looked back in Blain’s direction, the King of Powys had made himself absent.

  And so it begins. Rhun wanted to go speak with him, but what could he say?

  Upon noting Rhun’s perplexed expression, Bryce guessed the cause. ‘Forget Blain,’ he urged in a cheery fashion. ‘He just needs time to accept defeat. Once he hast, he shall be back with another challenge for thee.’

  ‘Exactly my worry.’ Rhun smiled, making light of the situation that Bryce didn’t know the half of — little did Rhun realise he didn’t know the half of it either.

  The inauguration ceremony was to take place the next day, and, immediately following the event, there was to be a huge celebration, whereby the allied states would cease to mourn. After a day’s grace, the new High King would preside over his first meeting of council.

  But tonight there were no social affairs scheduled for the newly appointed leader, as Taliesin had other plans for him.

  At dusk, the High Merlin and Selwyn brought the initiate forth to an old grove of oak trees that encircled a large clearing.

  Upon arrival, Rhun turned a couple of circles to take in his surroundings. ‘So, here I am to be tested by the Night Hunter?’ It had been awhile since the young King had undergone a truly mystical experience and so he was a little sceptical.

  Taliesin found his attitude amusing. ‘Thee recognised Keridwen’s voice quickly enough in the High Court today … I expect thy past otherworldly dealings came back to haunt thee. Yesterday it wast Keridwen who observed thee, today it will be Gwyn ap Nudd.’

  ‘And tomorrow?’ Rhun queried in a cheeky fashion.

  Taliesin cocked an eye, amused, for Rhun referred to the era when he would join the rest of the Chosen Ones. ‘That tomorrow be hundreds of years away from this point in time and space.’

  ‘I wish our tomorrow wast,’ Rhun grumbled. He hated ceremony, especially when he was the guest of honour.

  ‘As disappointed as my king wast, I feel thou art far and away the better man for the position, Majesty.’ Selwyn voiced his support. ‘I was with thy father at his trial by elements and I believe that Gwyn ap Nudd shall find thee more than worthy of his blessing.’

  ‘I am flattered that thou dost think so, merlin.’ Rhun forgot his woes as curiosity took hold. ‘But may I ask what this trial by elements entails, exactly?’

  ‘Thy trial be a test of observation and nothing more,’ Taliesin assured. ‘And, as no memory of this night’s proceedings will so much as enter thy mind, why worry?’

  ‘Good morning, my Highness.’

  Rhun’s eyes parted, and upon discovering that he was curled up in his wife’s arms, he didn’t stir from his blissful state of delirium. The heavy fur blanket and her body shielded him from the cold morning air beyond the bed and a sweet mellow haze hung over his consciousness, casting shadows over concerns that might otherwise bring him back to earth. ‘What happened?’ he mumbled, unable to remember going to bed.

  ‘I wish I knew.’ Bridgit kissed his forehead. ‘But if our intimacy last night be any indication, I would say thy new status very much agrees with thee.’ She slid further down under the covers to kiss her husband’s face and mouth.

  Rhun was enjoying the early morning indulgence as his mind searched for some memory of the previous night — the last thing that he recalled was Taliesin telling him that no memory of last night would ever be forthcoming. ‘My mind be completely blank!’ he sat up suddenly to announce.

  Bridgit appeared stunned by his words. ‘I cannot believe that thee could forget!’ She slid up beside Rhun and wrapped her arms about his torso to shield him from the chilly air. ‘I mean, we have made some amazing love in the past, but last night wast pure magic … thou wast like a man possessed.’

  Hopefully that was not the case, thought Rhun, now twice as disturbed by his memory loss. ‘I need to find Selwyn.’ He kissed his wife in conclusion and scamper
ed out of bed to dress.

  ‘But it wast Selwyn who returned thee to me last night?’ Bridgit wondered after his sudden urgency.

  ‘And how did I seem?’ he queried, dragging on his trousers and then his boots.

  Bridgit looked pensive as she thought back. ‘A little drunk, but mellow. Amorous,’ she nodded in agreement with herself, ‘in an enchanting kind of way … much like thou wast when first thee wooed me.’

  Rhun finished strapping on his second boot and then reached for his shirt, pulling it on over his head. ‘Was I coherent?’

  ‘Extraordinarily so,’ she assured.

  Rhun wondered at her answer a second, before pulling on his coat and buckling his belt.

  ‘Rhun!’ Bridgit scolded, looking him up and down. ‘I brought thy good clothes for thee to wear today —’

  ‘I will change later.’ He kissed her quickly before departing. ‘And shall be back presently, I swear by the Goddess.’ Rhun ignored any further protest she might have by heading out the door.

  It was dawn, therefore Selwyn would be outdoors — sunrise and sunset were sacred to him and had been ever since Maelgwn had been pronounced High King.

  Rumour had it that the Merlin had fallen in love with the Queen of the Tylwyth Teg and that he serenaded his otherworldly lover every morn and eve, come rain, snow or shine, in the hope that she would come for him. Rhun suspected this tale sprang from the native belief that at dawn and dusk the veil between Abred and Annwn was thinnest. In truth, nobody really knew why he kept his vigil or why the Merlin had lived wild for so many years. Selwyn had never disclosed his reasons to anyone, not even Taliesin.

  On the trail of a harp tune, the King exited the household into the inner bailey and was surprised to spy Talorg’s Druidess, Kaileah. The holy woman stood motionless in a ray of early morning sunlight, which streamed through the arched supports of the covered walkway that ran along this side of the house. Rhun noted how serenely beautiful she appeared, as this was the first time he’d ever seen her minus the cold, hard stare that kept everyone wary of her. In this instance her expression was more a soft look of yearning. What dost she find so desirable, I wonder? He cleared the pillar that prevented him viewing her line of sight and Rhun found Selwyn playing his harp in the middle of the inner bailey gardens. Well, well … music tames the savage heart. Rhun looked back to the Druidess, who, having spotted the King, had returned the cold mask to her face and with a look of caution, she walked on.

  ‘Good morning to thee, merlin.’ Rhun approached as Selwyn ceased to play.

  ‘And a very good morning to thee, Majesty.’ He stood to address the new High King and bowed. ‘What drives thee from thy warm bed this early?’

  ‘Actually, I have come to inquire after what became of my very good evening?’ Rhun came straight to the point, but Selwyn was not fazed by the question.

  ‘Thee accompanied Taliesin into the Otherworld for thy trial with Gwyn ap Nudd, which thee passed with flying colours, I am told. The High Merlin then returned thee to me and I saw thee back to thy good queen,’ Selwyn concluded, his tone implying that he thought he was being helpful.

  ‘I do not remember any of it!’ Rhun became stressed. ‘How do I know it happened at all?’

  ‘Pardon my saying so, Majesty, but it makes no difference.’ Selwyn was unaffected by the King’s adverse reaction. ‘The Night Hunter and his dominions art appeased and so we have achieved our purpose.’

  ‘Well, thou wast in attendance at my father’s trial. Tell me of that.’ Rhun demanded some compensation for his memory loss.

  ‘But, Majesty, if thou dost not believe the event took place to enlighten thee would clearly be a waste of breath.’ Selwyn moved to place his harp in its skin.

  Rhun folded his arms, heeding the point the Merlin was trying to make. ‘I have been commanded by the Goddess in her otherworldly realm. I have flown upon a dragon’s back to the four corners of the Isle. I have summoned elements, parted thunderclouds and battled demons.’ Rhun’s arms dropped to his side as he lowered his defences. ‘Could thy tale be any more unbelievable than my life to date?’

  Selwyn shook his head and gave a smile.

  As the Merlin now seemed more agreeable, Rhun phrased his question carefully. ‘Taliesin said the Night Hunter’s trial was a test of observation … an observation of what?’

  ‘Thy future.’ Selwyn looked him in the eye as he enlightened him. ‘Or at least that wast the way of it with thy father. Gwyn ap Nudd brews glowing violet ale that liberates the psyche of his subject from its physical form. He then summons forth the elemental winds to aid him to join with his initiate and perceive visions of their future whilst experiencing their emotional responses.’

  ‘So, I saw visions of my future last night that I cannot remember?’ Rhun was dumbfounded, half from shock and half from rage.

  ‘Most likely.’ Selwyn finished strapping up his harp case and stood.

  ‘Does Taliesin know what I saw?’ Rhun delayed the Merlin’s departure with the question.

  Selwyn smiled. ‘Even if he dost, he shall plead ignorance if he doth not see fit to disclose the information.’

  Rhun shook his head, not wanting to accept the fact, as there was precious little one could do about it if Taliesin took this line. ‘He hast no right to do that!’

  ‘Majesty …’ Selwyn urged Rhun to a calmer frame of mind. ‘Taliesin will always do right by thee and beyond that, what more doth thee really need to know?’ The Merlin bowed in parting and took his leave.

  As Rhun watched him depart he considered the question put to him: was it really so important that he recall being given Gwyn ap Nudd’s blessing, when he had been voted High King by the council fair and square? Or was it that he just felt a bit odd about being pushed into voting for himself? But in all fairness, Blain had undoubtedly done the same thing and no twist of fate had forced his hand.

  ‘So why do I still feel so ill at ease about this?’ Rhun questioned himself out loud. Not that it made much difference how he felt about his new appointment. He would be crowned High King this day and Blain would have to learn to live with it.

  Spruced up for the occasion, as every noble was, Rhun gritted his teeth and endured all the pomp and pageantry of the crowning ceremony. Taliesin led him through his vows to the Goddess and the kingdoms allied in her name, but Rhun could barely hear the High Merlin’s instruction over all the unsaid thoughts from those gathered. It was clear that many here didn’t agree with his appointment, but as Rhun could not pinpoint from whom the varying malicious thoughts stemmed, he had no way of divining just who the disgruntled parties were. When Rhun’s gaze ventured to Blain, the smile he received from him was warm and encouraging; he appeared to have recovered from his defeat. Beside Blain sat his queen, Javotte, who had daggers in her eyes.

  At the celebrations afterwards, disturbing thought waves were flying thick and fast around the new High King. He never quite managed to grasp the full meaning of the distorted, fleeting whispers, but their intent made it plain that there was massive unrest within his council. Looking around the table, one would never have guessed the uneasy current underlying all the laughter and merriment, but it was there alright. Half the council had voted against Rhun to be High King, so the trick to pinpointing his foe lay in guessing the five other men who had voted for him. Bryce, Eormenric, Conell and Cadoc of Dumnonia were definite in Rhun’s mind, which left one vote unaccounted for. Urien was a possibility, but personally speaking he was far more attached to Blain, so it seemed more likely that the young King had voted for his friend. The other possibility was that Rhun had misjudged Blain and that his was the sixth vote that had secured Rhun the position of High King. Talorg, Elidyr, Riderich Hael and Elifler of York had all been brought to the council via Blain’s negotiations and thus had always been more disposed towards the Kingdom of Powys than the Kingdom of Gwynedd.

  ‘Talorg seems particularly social this evening,’ Sir Bryce commented in an aside to Rhun, who was seated next
to him. ‘He wast chewing Conell’s ear off before and now he hast started on Riderich and Elidyr.’

  ‘Dalriada, Clyde and Reged.’ Rhun listed their kingdoms. ‘Talorg must be working his way down the west coast. If he keeps to his current course, Gwynedd should be next on his hit list.’

  ‘Or Powys.’ Bryce suggested the Pict’s more obvious target.

  ‘Keep an eye on him for me,’ Rhun instructed, as he spied the High Merlin looming in the doorway at the far end of the Great Hall and so rose to go after him. Completely forgetting his new status, Rhun nearly jumped out of his wits when everyone in the room rose as he did, for he had been of the mind to sneak out quietly. ‘Please continue,’ he bade his subjects, whereupon everyone resumed their activity.

  ‘Where art thou going?’ Bridgit took hold of his hand, her large amber eyes pleading for him to stay. ‘Thee cannot retire so early on an occasion such as this.’

  ‘Taliesin wants me,’ he whispered and kissed her cheek. ‘But I shall return.’

  When Rhun reached the corridor outside the Great Hall, Taliesin was nowhere to be seen. As Selwyn was standing close by, Rhun inquired if he had seen which way the High Merlin had gone.

  ‘Sorry, Majesty, I needed to get thy attention.’

  ‘That wast thee and not Taliesin?’ The Merlin nodded. Rhun frowned as he noticed the black smears all over Selwyn’s face. ‘Art thou planning on riding into battle, merlin? Why the war paint all over thy face?’

  As Selwyn appeared mortified by the information and began aimlessly rubbing his face, Rhun pointed out the offending marks.