Chronicle of Ages

by Traci Harding

  Although all physical sensation had departed from Bryce’s limbs, the knowledge that he’d failed to save Bridgit from defilement, just as he had failed to save her mother, proved far more agonising than the sword that was rammed through his spine. His sight began to blur and his hearing muffled as his breathing became shallow. Goddess, save her, was his dying thought.

  When Rhun thought of Caernarvon, he thought of Sir Tiernan, who had been left in charge of the stronghold for the duration of his son’s absence. He would have picked another target had he realised Gareth would arrive home to find his mother slain at his feet.

  ‘Dear Goddess!’ he cried, kneeling down to beseech his father. ‘Where be Linette and the baby?’

  Tiernan shook his head. ‘Prince Bryce went after thy family and the High Queen.’ The knight’s grief-stricken eyes shifted to Rhun.

  ‘How did Bridgit come to be here?’ Without waiting for a response, Rhun gripped Gareth’s arm to will them to the High Queen’s side and he didn’t care who caught him in the act.

  The High King found his wife stripped naked on a bed and Elidyr standing over her, fumbling with the tie on his trousers.

  ‘Damn thing,’ he grumbled and finally conquered the knot.

  As the King of Reged’s trousers came loose Rhun pulled them down around his knees and belted him away from Bridgit. Whilst the startled man staggered and dropped to the ground, Rhun pulled the bedding to cover his wife’s body, noticing the bloodied fingerprints her defiler had left on her face, neck and breasts. ‘Bridgit, my love,’ he said softly, stroking the bruise on her forehead. ‘Speak to me,’ he begged, tears flooding his eyes when she did not respond. She was still breathing easily, and with any luck she would have little memory of any of this when she did wake.

  ‘Where art my wife and child?’ Gareth belted Elidyr a couple of times to speed his resolve.

  ‘Blain took them as host —’ Elidyr started to gag on the blood pouring from his nose and mouth.

  Rhun didn’t need to hear any more.

  The main bedchamber here at Caernarvon was virtually an impregnable tower from the outside and so featured large windows.

  The High King threw wide the large wooden shutters of the window that overlooked the Menai Straight. The boats Elidyr’s force had come in on could be seen below. ‘I think it high time thou wast leaving.’ He looked at Elidyr, having never desired to kill a man before this moment.

  ‘Nay.’ The King became a dead weight in Gareth’s arms as the knight attempted to raise the traitor off the floor. ‘I can compensate thee … be reasonable!’

  Rhun strode over to help the proceedings along. ‘What thou hast taken from me cannot be replaced,’ he hissed, gripping hold of Elidyr around the back of the neck.

  ‘I never even got my pants off,’ Elidyr defended, which only fueled Rhun’s fury.

  ‘Thou hast turned our blood brother against us and for that thee shall die,’ Rhun assured Elidyr frankly, before he and Gareth showed the King of Reged to the window and sped him towards his awaiting transport down below.

  It was only as Rhun turned back to check on his wife that he noted the body lying on the floor on the far side of the bed.

  He expected to find one of the High Queen’s personal guards, but when he discovered Prince Bryce with the murder weapon still in his body, all Rhun’s childish delusions about friendship vanished. For Rhun recognised the distinctive sword — the weapon belonged to the King of Powys, and Blain had not left it behind by accident. As Rhun wrenched the murder weapon from his best friend’s lifeless body, he couldn’t prevent the tears from falling down his face. ‘Goddess damn thee, Blain!’ Rhun cried out, casting the sword aside. ‘Why art thou driving me to take thy life?’

  ‘There thou art, Majesty!’ Urien entered, sporting his usual cheer. ‘Never fear, the reinforcements art here. Thee shall not believe what I have been through to —’ The High King looked to his ally and Urien saw the utter devastation on his face. He realised who the corpse beside Rhun was. ‘Dear God,’ he uttered, deeply saddened himself.

  The High King held a hand up to stop Urien saying anything more. ‘If thee could both give me a moment.’

  Urien nodded and left quietly without another word. Gareth quietly followed him.

  ‘See if thee can catch Blain up before he departs Gwynedd.’ Rhun gave his knight the go-ahead to pursue his family. ‘Still, I fear he hast departed down the Menai and headed straight for Powys.’

  ‘Should we be forced to negotiate for their lives, I trust that thee and the Goddess will find a means to return them safely to me.’ After what Gareth had witnessed of the High King’s talents this day, he seriously doubted there was any feat Rhun was incapable of.

  ‘About today.’ Rhun thought he’d best make his knight swear to secrecy.

  ‘I saw nothing.’ Gareth put his concerns to rest. ‘I know nothing.’ He left the High King in peace, closing the door on his way out.

  As Rhun’s eyes again fell on Bryce, he dropped to his knees beside his friend and allowed his tears to flow freely.

  Why had the greatest warrior of his lifetime been pointlessly murdered, whilst the one who had committed the grievous crime had slipped away? Was this what all his efforts to change the course of his own destiny had amounted to?

  ‘Nay.’ He grabbed Bryce up in his arms. ‘This wast not the way thy life wast meant to turn out.’

  If only he’d killed Blain when Taliesin had advised it, Bryce would still be living.

  I could no sooner kill Blain than my own son, he had sworn only two weeks before, and even now, if he were to be placed before Blain with a dagger in his hand, he doubted if he could deal the fatal blow. But if Blain was capable of killing Bryce, who’d only ever done his very best by his brothers, then the King of Powys was immoral enough to do anything. More were going to suffer and Rhun was the only one who could put a stop to Blain’s reign of terror before it gained any more momentum.

  ‘Oh Goddess,’ he cried out. The truth hurt. ‘There must be a way I can mend this.’ Rhun suddenly recalled how near to death Selwyn had been earlier this day and how he was now in perfect health. Could the Tylwyth Teg perform such miracles with the dead? Then Taliesin’s speech to the council before the big election came to mind and brought Rhun some hope.

  By the power of the elements, all the lives lost that dreadful night were restored.

  ‘Gwyn ap Nudd,’ resolved Rhun aloud, clutching Bryce’s body to teleport it to the sacred ring of oaks where the Night Hunter was known to dwell.

  The High King manifested with his dead companion in the middle of the sacred clearing ringed by oaks. The sky above had become overcast and the grayness of the day seemed in formidable harmony with Rhun’s sad circumstance.

  Another casualty, hey what? One of the overhanging branches dipped lower to have a closer look. Thou art having quite a day.

  Rhun ignored the tree, spying his Merlin sitting nearby, in close conversation with the Druidess. ‘Merlin!’

  Selwyn nearly jumped out of his skin. ‘I have only just awoken,’ He defended the way circumstances would appear to be to the contrary. ‘I wast just about to seek thee. I —’

  ‘The crisis hast passed,’ Rhun rose to inform. ‘If thou dost want to be of use, however, then get me an audience with Gwyn ap Nudd.’

  Selwyn would have asked why, but when he sighted Prince Bryce’s corpse, no further explanation seemed necessary. ‘I doubt the Night Hunter will come, even for thee —’

  ‘I can get thee into Annwn to speak with him.’ Kaileah rose and stepped forward to offer her services, as she owed the High King a favour or two. The Druidess flipped her raven cloak back over her shoulders. Underneath she wore a plain dress of deep green. Slung around her hips was a thick leather belt with many little pouches and other curious items. These were attached, with leather ties, to the many holes crafted into the belt for just this purpose. From within one of these pouches she pulled a tiny shrivelled mushroom. ‘These art v
ery rare,’ she explained, ‘but can broaden thy consciousness for a short time so that thee may comprehend the worlds that exist within our own.’

  Rhun accepted the rotting piece of fungus from the Druidess and was about to place it in his mouth when Kaileah stopped him.

  ‘First, please tell me how my brother fares?’ she pleaded, knowing the High King was pressed for time.

  ‘He fights Talorg for his crown as we speak,’ Rhun advised, ‘but as I was forced to return to Caernarvon, I do not yet know the outcome of their struggle.’

  ‘So thou art aware of Blain’s treachery?’ Selwyn figured. ‘I had hoped to warn thee of his intent for it was the King of Powys and his queen who poisoned me, using a recipe from Vanora’s old Grimoire. I do not know how long Javotte hast known about Vanora’s coven room at Arwystli, but she hast been studying the evil doctrine for some time from what I could tell.’

  The High King nodded, most interested by what the Merlin said. ‘Not to worry,’ he assured Selwyn. ‘I shall address the problem presently.’ Rhun placed the piece of dried mushroom in his mouth. ‘But first things first.’

  ‘Sit thee down.’ Kaileah guided the High King back to his dead friend, where he collapsed onto the ground beside Bryce.

  The High King gave a chuckle as his mood took a sudden swing to the positive for the effect of the mushroom was almost instantaneous. ‘I have to get me some more of that fungus … wow, it makes thee feel fine!’

  ‘Indeed.’ Kaileah knew what he meant, which was why she rarely made the secret properties of the mushrooms known to anyone. Once exposed to their blissful effect there was a distinct temptation to remain under their influence indefinitely. ‘Soon Annwn will manifest around thee. Take care not to partake of any of the delights the realm hast to offer lest ye never return to us, Highness.’

  ‘I am high, alright.’ Rhun chuckled again in a boyish fashion.

  ‘Majesty.’ The Druidess touched the High King’s face to gain his full attention. ‘I am very serious about this instruction.’

  ‘Sweet Kaileah.’ The High King held her face in both his hands. ‘I know the drill and will return.’ He kissed her forehead, as if she were a little child. ‘Bless thee.’ Rhun let the Druidess go, as he was startled by a burst of bright blue-white ethereal light. ‘Aw!’ he cried, shielding his eyes a moment. Rhun expected to experience some strain in parting his lids again, but when he dared a peek, there was no pain or difficulty of vision. Kaileah and Selwyn had vanished from the landscape which now pulsated with colour and light. Rhun was distressed to find Bryce’s body was also missing, but as the old oaks around him suddenly grew to twice their normal height, he was overcome by wonder. The earthen ground on which he sat had been covered by a soft moss-like grass that was greener than the countryside of Gwynedd at the height of the season of Flowering.

  ‘Night Hunter,’ Rhun cried out as he got to his feet. ‘Thy appointed representative in Abred requires thy counsel and requests an audience —’

  Do stop shouting.

  The High King staggered around to confront the eight-foot warrior, who sported the same distinctive features as the Goddess, Keridwen.

  I know why thou art here. Gwyn looked to the piece of ground where Bryce’s body resided back in the world of Abred, and with a wave of his hand the dead warrior manifest at the Lord’s feet. Very unfortunate when it did not have to be this way … we held high hopes for this one too.

  ‘I know thou hast the power to bring him back to life.’ Rhun put forward his hopes.

  Nay, not I, the Night Hunter corrected, having a bit of a laugh. Only the elementals have the power to restore life. I am merely an agent who looks after their interests … I cut the deals, as it were.

  Rhun nodded to confirm he followed.

  Thy wish shall be granted, for the elements of nature art well disposed towards thee. Gwyn put Rhun’s heart to rest on that issue. But first thee must nominate the soul who shall compensate for the life to be restored.

  ‘What!’ Rhun was horrified, but only a moment. ‘Me. Take my life.’

  Gwyn ap Nudd grinned as he shook his head. Thou art beyond the reincarnation loop, warrior, and well thou doth know it! The soul must belong to that of a mortal man. Or woman, he conceded.

  Rhun was vexed by the Night Hunter’s argument, for he did not wish to go where it was leading. ‘Nay! I do not believe the Goddess or her folk would wish me to murder in their name … not when it be their task to create life.’

  It be their task to balance life, Gwyn corrected, and there be only so much consciousness to go round. This murdered soul hast a place to go, he motioned down to Bryce. And if he shall not be departing this life, then there must be a soul to compensate.

  ‘But then I shall be changing the course of the destiny of whomever I nominate?’ Rhun argued.

  Humans! Gwyn cried out, aggravated with having to debate this issue with someone who knew next to nothing about the higher universal order and just as little about his own mind. Hast it not occurred to thee that thy inaction already changed the course of a soul’s destiny, and now thou art here to correct that oversight?

  Rhun staggered back a few paces, stupefied, as this had been the very notion that had urged him to seek the Night Hunter.

  ’Tis not often that fate awards thee a second chance to get it right, so name the replacement.

  The High King closed his eyes, not wanting to admit that fate had beaten him. All his efforts to defy the prophecy had only brought him back to the same horrid circumstance. ‘I think we both know who I must fight —’

  Nay … there will be no fight, Gwyn advised. He cannot defeat thee, so why risk escape? We want him dead, plain and simple. In him exists the greatest and only threat to the Goddess’ alliance, her land and people.

  Although Rhun shuddered he was not surprised by the terms of their agreement. ‘I shall not find my target alone until he returns to his home days from now, so what shall become of Bryce until then?’

  We shall restore thy friend to life in good faith, the Lord of the Night proffered. But if thou doth fail to meet thy commitment before seven days lapse, then the good Protector of Dyfed shall have the misfortune of dying all over again.

  ‘I understand,’ Rhun conceded, eager to have Bryce back. ‘So be it, Night Hunter.’

  Then stand back, Rhun of Gwynedd. Gwyn motioned him to safe place out of the way. And witness thy wish granted. The Night Hunter held his cupped hands over Bryce and said:

  Ignite inferno, the spark of all existence.

  A fiery orange mass began to seethe and manifest in the hands of the Lord of the Night, erupting and exploding like an active volcano harnessed inside the field of an invisible orb.

  Assume the aura that grants the soul breath.

  A golden mist burst forth from within the fiery ball, and consumed the orb with its glistening, ghostly lustre.

  Emotive liquid fill the senses until they runneth over.

  Blue ripples gushed forth through the glittering mist, and the illuminated ball turned entirely liquid — appearing not unlike the sun when viewed from under rippling water on a fine summer’s day.

  Matter solidify the being and bind it to this earth.

  Glowing green matter grew up through the waves and engulfed the surface of the orb as moss might claim a damp rock. Once covered by the solid, bright, glowing substance, the throbbing spectre the Night Hunter held grew in size and as it did, a silvery-white light began to burst through the green. Once the orb entirely glistened like sunlight on a still lake, Gwyn ap Nudd parted his cupped hands and the spectral light floated down to alight upon Bryce’s body. As the life source was absorbed back into the warrior’s body, his injury faded and his limbs relaxed.

  He began to draw breath.

  25

  Killing the Past

  Bryce was going to be sleeping like a baby for some time and Bridgit was still unconscious, so Rhun thought he’d best get back to the battlefield outside the town of Arfderydd and
find out the fate of Alban.

  The huge field was deserted, bar one horse and one man, who was seated in the middle of the wide open space with his back to the approaching High King.

  ‘Bridei?’ Rhun called to be sure it was he, whereupon the Pictish warrior jumped to his feet holding high the head of Talorg.

  ‘I have a trophy for thee,’ Bridei announced with glee, tossing the severed head in the air. ‘I am King! A free man, such as may sit in the middle of an open field in broad daylight.’ He threw his arms wide to bask in his new-found liberty.

  Rhun let loose a victory cry as he ran down to jump on the young King, hugging and beating him about in congratulations. ‘I had no doubt of it,’ he assured Bridei sincerely, as they calmed to a standstill.

  ‘’Twas such a fight, thee should have seen it! All my men marched away from this field united, something I thought I would never see.’ A tear escaped the young warrior’s eye, as he was suddenly filled with emotion and pride. ‘’Twas a miracle, Rhun, and I thank thee for bringing it about.’

  ‘It wast thy own will and that of the Goddess, that hast united thy people, Bridei.’ Rhun gave his view. ‘But for my small part, thou art most welcome.’

  Bridei suddenly look mortified. ‘Here am I raving on about my victory and I have not even asked how thy kingdom and thy kin fare as a result?’

  ‘There was a battle, lives were lost.’ Rhun found himself not wanting to speak of it, for fear his hurt and feelings of betrayal would surface before he found time alone to deal with them. ‘But Gwynedd shall recover swiftly,’ he asserted, drifting off into a vision of what was to come. ‘There art a few loose ends I must see to. But,’ Rhun snapped out of his daze and smiled to assure the young ruler, ‘at the next sitting of the Goddess’ alliance, the kings present will enter an era of greater cooperation than ever before, that much I promise thee.’