‘There be some on thy neck and earlobe.’ Rhun had to refrain from laughter as he recalled Kaileah’s black painted lips.
‘Please, Majesty.’ Selwyn led the King away from the proceedings, continuing to rub his face as he went. ‘A matter of utmost urgency hast come to my attention.’
Rhun laughed at this. ‘That be frightfully obvious, merlin.’
‘It is a matter of state,’ Selwyn corrected his misconception, stressing the seriousness of his errand, ‘that concerns thee intimately.’
‘So, thou art taking me to bed?’ Rhun motioned up the stairwell they had ducked into, which led to the main sleeping quarters.
‘Nay.’ Selwyn gripped hold of both the High King’s hands. ‘Further afoot,’ he advised, willing them forth to the ring of stones where he had left the Druidess, Kaileah.
The windswept moor was rather forbidding after the warmth of the banquet hall, but it was quiet and for that Rhun was thankful. Selwyn immediately left his side. By the light of the moon, Kaileah and Selwyn whispered to each other in the middle of the ancient stone circle.
‘Hast thou dragged me all the way back to Gwynedd to admire the full moon, merlin?’ Rhun recognised the holy place and urged them to justify their actions.
‘Gwyn ap Nudd was here this night,’ Selwyn approached to begin their explanation, ‘to warn me of a conspiracy that is spreading itself through thy court.’
This was interesting to Rhun as the statement accorded with his own observations this evening. ‘Something seems to be bothering Talorg?’ he stated openly, to see what reaction this would fetch from the Druidess.
Kaileah came forth, her forbidding face on. ‘He wishes to crush the rightful claimant to his throne. Tomorrow, Talorg will try to rally support for his cause in the council.’
‘The rightful claimant?’ Rhun queried.
‘Talorg wast only to rule until Bridei, great-great-grandson of Cunedda, was old enough to assume the throne.’
The High King was taken aback by Bridei’s family line. ‘Dost thou mean to say that this king be my kindred?’
Selwyn nodded to confirm this. ‘A very strong family resemblance seems to support the theory.’
‘Thou hast met this warlord, merlin?’ Rhun assumed.
‘In a vision,’ Selwyn explained. ‘But I shall seek an audience with Bridei at the first opportunity and advise thee as more information comes to hand.’
Rhun looked to Kaileah, wondering about her loyalties. He held out his hand to her, hoping she would take hold. ‘I thought thou wast druidess to Talorg, Kaileah?’
‘Thou art suspicious.’ The Druidess made it known that she knew about Rhun’s telepathic know-how, but placed her hand in the High King’s confidently. ‘I have nothing to hide from thee, any more.’ She looked to Selwyn briefly then back to Rhun. ‘I am the servant of the royal line of my people, and I serve the rightful king.’ Kaileah observed Rhun with an expression of familiarity. ‘There can be no doubting that Bridei and thee spring from the same common ancestor. What other explanation could there be for it?’
‘For what?’ Rhun wondered.
‘The resemblance,’ Kaileah informed.
‘Reports indicate that thee could be twins,’ Selwyn added. ‘But not one for hearsay, Majesty, I shall believe the likeness when I have seen this warlord myself.’
‘Thee will not believe thine eyes,’ Kaileah spoke up. ‘Talorg hast seen the resemblance that reinforces his enemy’s claim to the throne. Thus, he will do everything within his power to prevent thee from ever meeting Bridei.’
‘Then we should meet, as soon as possible,’ Rhun resolved, intrigued, and having detected no ulterior motives within the Druidess, Rhun let go of her hand.
‘I shall arrange it, Majesty.’ Selwyn thought Rhun’s decision was the right one.
‘But the knowledge of this arrangement will not go beyond this circle … and,’ Rhun hated to say this, as the two holy people were obviously just getting to know one another on intimate terms, ‘you two should not be seen together.’
‘Nor will we be,’ Selwyn assured, before looking back to the Druidess. ‘I should return our High King to his feast. I will return for thee presently.’
‘I can wait.’ She walked away to seat herself against a stone for shelter against the wild wind.
‘Fear not, Majesty, I shall make sure no one witnesses our return.’ Selwyn gripped Rhun’s hand to return him to Dyfed.
‘This seems an unfortunate turn of events for thee, merlin.’ Rhun glanced back at the Druidess, having picked up on how overwhelming her secret feelings for Selwyn were. ‘I am sorry for that.’
‘The Goddess guides my destiny,’ Selwyn stated rather dryly. ‘And I am hoping this shall prove just a minor inconvenience rather than an unfortunate event.’
Rhun forced a smile to agree with his view. ‘With all my heart, merlin, I hope thou art right.’
At the first meeting of the allied states under Rhun’s command, no mention of the civil battle in Alban was mentioned, by Talorg or anyone. It seemed there were bigger fish to fry at present.
‘Morcant of the Bernicians hast allied himself with Caten of Lothian and may succeed in taking the Wall!’ Riderich of Clyde, who had the floor, referred to Hadrian’s Wall that separated his kingdom from York and Reged to the south.
To the east of Riderich’s Kingdom of Clyde was an area once known as Gododdin. Cunedda had migrated to Gwynedd from the far north of Gododdin over a century before. In this great warlord’s wake two dynasties had arisen in the area. The first descended from a Breton ruler, Germanianus, whose capital was the hill fort of Yeavering Bell, south of the Tweed. The second dynasty had sprung from a Roman prefect, Leudonus, who ruled as a king in Lothian after building a fortress at Traprain Law. Morcant Bule was the reigning heir of Germanianus’ line in the south, and Caten ruled as King of Lothian in the north. Separately, both kingdoms had attacked Clyde in the past, but as neither were as large as Clyde, Reged or York, they had always been fended off with a minimal amount of effort and expense. But now that Lothian and Bernicia had joined forces, they posed more of a threat.
‘They shall be after Carlisle next!’ Elidyr of Reged interjected, all hot and bothered. Carlisle was currently one of the main strongholds of his Kingdom.
This middle-aged ruler was not one of Rhun’s favourite people, and Elidyr was not particularly well disposed towards Rhun, or rather, Gwynedd, either. This stemmed from an ancient dispute over land back in the early days of their Grandfather’s rule. For someone who claimed to be from Cunedda’s line, Elidyr lacked all of the physical family traits. The King of Reged had fair red hair and pinkish skin that freckled easily. His face was round, he was short of stature and he was a little on the plump side. Rhun didn’t see or sense kindred in him at all. And yet, if Elidyr’s ancestral claim was true, the warlord would be no further removed from Rhun in the family tree than Bryce or Blain were.
‘I do not have to point out the problems that would arise for trade and so forth if Morcant succeeds in his aims.’ Riderich continued his argument for declaring war. ‘We should crush this threat now, before this thorn in our side begins to fester.’
‘Here, here!’ Elidyr and Elifler seconded in harmony, as always.
Elifler was Elidyr’s younger cousin, and having not as much ‘spine’ as his elder, he sided with Elidyr on every issue. The family resemblance and colouring was constant with them, although Elifler was younger and a few pounds lighter.
Dalriada was tucked safely away from the strife behind Clyde, so this dispute did not really concern Conell too much, although he was prepared to reinforce Clyde with support troops. As Alban was situated just above all the target areas, Rhun sought the Pictish leader’s opinion. ‘Has Morcant threatened the north in any respect, Talorg?’
‘My people art still greatly feared in the south by our enemies, Majesty … Caten will not venture to cross the Forth, unless he wishes to die,’ he said smugly.
‘Then perhaps thy war
riors would be our best defence,’ Rhun reasoned, believing the warlord would hesitate to volunteer troops if civil strife was afoot in his own kingdom.
But Talorg smiled broadly at the suggestion, his tattooed face enhancing his already menacing appearance. ‘I shall be more than happy to bring my demons to the party, if thou doth wish it.’
Something wasn’t right here, Rhun decided. He knew Kaileah and Selwyn were telling the truth last night, to the best of their knowledge anyway, as Rhun had touched their souls and felt their good intentions. So why was Talorg so eager to aid Riderich if he had troubles of his own? There was something these northern allies weren’t telling him. Still, Rhun refused to believe Conell MacErc of Dalriada would conspire against him.
Conell was a simple man, so far as his loyalties ran. Like his father before him, the mighty Fergus MacErc, Conell was loyal to the ruling High King and adhered to him only. Although he was not a scholarly king, he had an innocent wisdom that kept him in everyone’s good books. A big, brawny man from big, brawny stock, there were few who desired to oppose Conell in any case.
‘I shall send in a negotiator —’ Rhun began.
‘Begging thy pardon, Majesty,’ Riderich interrupted. ‘Morcant hast already refused to negotiate. I have lost three messengers in an attempt to have a written refusal for thy examination. I pray thou shalt not request that I sacrifice another.’
How convenient, thought Rhun as he pondered how he might squeeze his way out of the corner he was being backed into. Were he not being influenced by what Kaileah had told him last night, Rhun would have thought this a battle of pressing urgency. Every man here obviously did. They all frowned as they awaited his word, wondering why he delayed his consent. Rhun again fixed his sights on Riderich. ‘What dost thou require from us?’
Of course, what the King of Clyde wanted was every spare soldier on the Isle to bombard the ancient kingdom of Gododdin and wipe Morcant and Caten’s kingdoms from the map — not saying anything about substantially extending his own kingdom in the process.
Eormenric and Cadoc’s forces were still tied up battling Cynric in the South and were presently receiving reinforcements from Powys, Gwent and Dyfed. Thus Rhun suggested York, Reged and Alban assist Clyde to drive back the threat against the Kingdom.
‘And what about Gwynedd’s troops, Highness?’ Riderich seemed less than satisfied.
‘Gwynedd’s troops are needed to defend the coast, as art Conell’s men in Dalriada.’
‘As are my men, and Riderich’s,’ Elidyr protested. ‘And if we can leave major towns less than secure, surely Gwynedd can spare a few of her Master warriors to aid our cause?’
Rhun nodded in accord, considering this a fair request. ‘I have a couple of legions at Caernarvon that I could send to thee.’
Riderich bowed, appeased by the offer. ‘I shall endeavour to crush this threat quickly, Majesty.’
‘I trust thee will, Riderich,’ Rhun replied, fully suspecting that the plot had just thickened considerably.
It would take Riderich at least a month to organise his forces for the attack, and by then Rhun hoped to have discovered the sub-plot that was unfolding underneath the whitewash of this defensive strike.
21
The Penitent Man
It was with a heavy heart that Bryce bid farewell to Rhun on the steps of the inner bailey at Castell Dwyran, as they had spent every working minute in each other’s company for the last ten years. As he moved to bow to Rhun in parting, the High King wouldn’t have it. He took up Bryce’s hand and grasped it firmly.
‘I cannot imagine making a decision without thee, Bryce.’ Rhun placed his free hand on his best friend’s shoulder. ‘But, in another amazing emulation of thy father’s illustrious career, Gwynedd must again sacrifice her champion to gain a powerful and just ally. Gwynedd’s loss be Dyfed’s gain … for we shall miss thy counsel dearly.’
As Bryce opened his mouth to return Rhun’s sentiment, their attention was drawn to their wives, who were embracing each other and weeping incessantly.
‘Oh for pity’s sake, ladies.’ Rhun couldn’t bear it any more. They’d been like this for days now. ‘If parting be so sorrowful, why dost thou not stay on for awhile with Aella, and come back to Gwynedd when thou art ready?’
‘Thanks awfully, Majesty.’ Bryce cringed as the two women were immediately appeased by the idea. Tears turned to excited chatter and laughter, as the women set about organising for the High Queen’s belongings to be taken back into the stronghold.
Rhun looked to Bryce and shrugged, with an apologetic look on his face. ‘I shall take them next month.’
‘Good deal,’ Bryce chuckled, mischievously.
‘That wast not what I meant.’ Rhun began to chuckle also. ‘Still … tempting!’ Rhun said with a grin, as they admired the two beautiful women in question. But Rhun and Bryce became straight-faced when Bridgit suddenly recalled that Rhun was leaving, and so headed their way.
‘What am I to do without thee?’ Bridgit slid her arms around his neck and gazed up at him fondly.
‘What a coincidence.’ Rhun threatened to mention the conversation he’d just been having with Bryce. But Aella was Christian and very pious, and would frown upon such talk, even in jest. Bridgit, on the other hand, if she didn’t go for the idea, would most certainly have found it amusing and flattering. Still, whatever Bridgit knew Aella knew and thus Bryce stood shaking his head in the negative with a pleading look in his eyes.
‘Did I miss a joke?’ Bridgit noted the looks Bryce and Rhun were giving each other. Thus she clutched Rhun’s jaw to focus his attention on her for a moment. ‘Would thee care to delay thy journey an hour or two?’ She became amorous, without care for who was looking on.
‘Oh, I see.’ Rhun played up his insult and rejection. ‘When thou wast to be parted from Aella it wast all tears and the world was coming to an end. But now that thou art to be parted from me, a quick roll in the sack and thou shalt send me packing happily.’
Bridgit only laughed, as it wasn’t so far from the truth, but then, in their bed was the only time she really had Rhun to herself. Back in Gwynedd he would be tied up with the affairs of state, even more so now that he was High King. Better that she stayed here to help Aella settle into her new home.
Young Cadwell and Vortimor got along well despite an age difference of four years. Aella and Bryce’s daughter, Chloe, had been born the same year as Cadwell and they were joined at the hip. Chloe and Cadwell had conveniently gone missing this morning and it had taken hours and legions to find them. Now the children would think it was their protest that had succeeded in keeping them together, but in reality nobody in these two families wanted to part — unfortunately, Rhun had to.
The next few weeks were a bit of a blur for poor Bryce. There was so much reorganisation to be done and a backlog of state affairs to be seen to, as Vortipor had been sick for some time. He was pleased now that Bridgit had chosen to stay with them, as she was doing a fine job of making his wife feel at home in the dwelling that had been Bridgit’s childhood home.
On this particular afternoon, Bryce had been going through the prison lists and had come across an ‘unknown’ entry. He was on his way to speak with the lower dungeon warden, when he happened to spy Vortimor seated on a chair in a hallway all by himself. ‘Art thou alright, Vortimor? Where art the other children?’
The boy shrugged, a sad expression on his face but no tears. ‘I am used to being on my own,’ he said, with not a hint of spite.
Bryce’s heart melted with the boy’s words. He remembered himself as an orphan on the streets of Aberffraw, before the fateful day Tory Alexander had found him. He knew all too well how it felt to be five and all alone in the world. ‘Well,’ Bryce swallowed his emotion. ‘I am going down to discover the identity of a mysterious prisoner, would thee like to come?’
Vortimor cocked his head to one side and had a think about it for a second. ‘Sure,’ he decided with a shrug, sliding off the chair and
ambling along to catch Bryce up. ‘Will he be deformed?’ he inquired with interest.
‘Maybe,’ Bryce played up the mystery, ‘for if these records art correct, the unknown prisoner has been with us awhile.’ He gave the papers to the boy to look over, so that he might feel part of the mission and Vortimor looked them over as if pretending to comprehend the documentation.
Once Bryce and Vortimor reached the lower prison level, they found a warden who was stunned beyond belief to see them. ‘Majesties!’ The warden fell right off his chair, which amused Vortimor greatly. ‘Art ye lost?’ He scrambled to a kneeling position. ‘The last man I saw down in these parts of the castle was the great Vortipor himself!’ The warden played up his character when he saw the noble child was amused.
‘Interesting that thee should say so … for we are looking for an unknown prisoner.’ Bryce cued Vortimor to hand over the papers.
‘It wast not my intent to be interesting,’ the warden confessed as he took the papers, although he did not bother to look at them. ‘I know who ye have come for, Majesties, for this level of the dungeon be reserved for one prisoner only. The one the Protector locked up all those years ago.’
‘Twenty years according to the record books. Hold on.’ Bryce stopped to think about it, figuring that was about the same time they’d taken Aurelius Conan into custody — but Vortipor had reported having him executed shortly afterward. ‘Dost thou know the prisoner’s name?’
The warden nodded, warily. ‘But I vowed to the late and great Vortipor that I would never utter it to a soul.’
Bryce rolled his eyes. ‘Just nod if I am right in saying … Aurelius Conan.’ When the warden confirmed his guess, Bryce nearly died. He’d hated Conan with a vengeance during the time of his short reign of terror in Gwent, but twenty years in this place was more than the worst of men deserved. ‘How fares the prisoner?’ The thought of finding out made Bryce squeamish, and he was a hardened warrior.
‘I am not permitted to speak with him, only feed him,’ the warden explained. He didn’t really know what kind of shape the prisoner was in.
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