Chronicle of Ages

by Traci Harding

  ‘I shall warrant thou art right there, Dragon.’ Bridei had a laugh. ‘None of the rulers gathered here today will ever defy thee again, for fear of thy pet!’ When the warrior got over his amusement, he had to wonder at the odd look of delight on Rhun’s face. ‘What did I say?’

  Rhun shook his head. ‘Thou art the first person to ever call me Dragon, without putting little before it,’ he explained, much preferring the nickname this way.

  ‘There be nothing little about thee, my friend,’ Bridei emphasised, slapping a hand down on the King of Gwynedd’s shoulder. ‘This single event, thy march of peace to save so many from a needless death, makes thee, in my mind, the most outstanding king of all the legends history hast to offer.’

  Rhun shied from the praise as he considered his own parents and the miracles they’d achieved. ‘My father would have done exactly the same thing.’

  ‘But he did not.’ Bridei became quite serious. ‘Thee did.’

  At Caernarvon, Rhun lay beside Bridgit awaiting her return to consciousness, mulling over Bridei’s praise of him. And despite all that he’d been through, he couldn’t help but feel a little pleased with what he’d achieved. But how would he feel about himself after he had atoned for Sir Bryce’s return to life?

  He looked at Bridgit, realising that Blain would have permitted Elidyr to rape his wife in order to lure Bryce to his death, all with the sole intent of hurting the High King. ‘Could the position mean so much to him?’ This attack was more than just political, it was personal. ‘What did I do?’ Rhun just couldn’t figure it and if he murdered Blain as instructed, he would never find out the motive or indeed if there was one.

  ‘Rhun?’ Bridgit stirred and upon sighting her husband she rolled herself over to embrace him. ‘I knew thee would come … whoa.’ As the bump on her head made her dizzy, Rhun assisted his wife back to a reclining position. ‘Elidyr …’ Bridgit shuddered, as the events she’d been party to before her blackout came back to shock and distress her.

  ‘Wast dead before he got near thee,’ Rhun assured her in a whisper, whereby his wife’s weeping turned to tears of joy and relief. ‘Bryce?’ Bridgit raised herself once more to look to the floor, scrubbed clean of the blood, but some staining still remained.

  ‘Bryce be fine and resting peacefully,’ Rhun informed, to her great shock and delight. ‘And I suggest thee do the same.’ He kissed her forehead, urging her to lay back and relax, but she would not.

  Although Bryce had always been Rhun’s dearest friend and advisor, and therefore dear to Bridgit’s heart, his selfless aid this day and in the past had had a profound effect on her life. ‘The man hast been like a guardian spirit to me and my kin, I owe him so much.’ She was overwhelmed by tears again, as there were no words to describe the loving gratitude she felt for the Protector of Dyfed. ‘I only recently discovered how he saved mother from her death, and now he hast been wounded saving me.’

  Rhun hugged his wife close. ‘If I know Bryce, and I do, that thou art alive and unharmed will be all the reward or thanks he will ever need. To protect his kin hast been his sole life purpose, as long as they art safe, he remains a happy man.’

  ‘Speaking of kin, art thee aware what became of Urien?’ Bridgit wondered if her newly-found brother had done the right thing by his kindred in the end.

  ‘He hast been waiting patiently to see thee.’ Rhun made a move to send for him, but Bridgit took hold of his hand to waylay him. ‘I do not know if I wish to grant him an audience at present. Tell me of his movements throughout this nightmare first, and then I shall decide if I have a brother or not.’

  Rhun smiled, happy to oblige her.

  He began his tale at Arwystli where Bryce and Urien were deceived into believing Blain would withdraw his assistance to Elidyr’s attack on Caernarvon. ‘Urien offered to carry the note of withdrawal to Reged and deliver it to Elidyr in person, unaware that Blain had sent Owen to stop the missive ever being delivered. For Owen wast under the misconception that Urien planned to aid Elidyr and so was sent forth by Blain with an order to kill him on sight.’

  Bridgit became concerned for her brother, even though she knew he must come to no harm in the story, waiting as he was to see her. ‘Wast Owen not suspicious, having no proof of Urien’s treason?’ she defended, passionately.

  ‘Fortunately, aye, he wast.’

  Bridgit gave a sigh of relief.

  ‘Once Owen caught up with Urien on the lower border of Reged, they both sorted through their stories and the truth of the matter became fairly plain. They decided to continue on to Ribchester and deliver the missive as originally planned in the hope of bluffing Elidyr out of the attack.’

  ‘Which obviously did not happen.’ Bridgit thought that plainly obvious.

  ‘Elidyr had already departed leaving his young son, Llywarch, to govern in his absence. To cut a long story short … Urien got talking with the future King of Reged to discover Llywarch be a passive Prince with no desire to rule a Kingdom … in fact his greatest aspiration be to study as a Bard under Selwyn, as Prince Cai dost.’

  ‘They struck a deal?’ Bridgit guessed, thinking it was just like Urien to negotiate a kingdom from beneath a ruler, without raising so much as his voice. ‘Tell me.’ She was dying of suspense.

  ‘I really think Urien will want to tell thee the details himself.’ Rhun made a move to fetch him again, only to be yanked back onto the bed by his impatient wife.

  ‘Nay, I am still not convinced. Tell me the rest,’ she insisted, whereby Rhun climbed back onto the bed to complete the tale.

  ‘Besides Urien, Owen and Llywarch, a fourth party helped formulate how everyone’s wish might be granted.’ Rhun paused to build the suspense, whereby Bridgit hit him.

  ‘Aye, and?’ she prompted.

  ‘And it wast decided that should Elidyr die in his attempt to take Caernarvon, as Urien suspected he would, then —’

  ‘Hold on.’ Bridgit pulled him up. ‘Thee did not tell me who the fourth person at this meeting wast?’

  ‘I am coming to that,’ Rhun assured, as if put out by the interruption. ‘The fourth person wast Llywarch’s cousin, Brimesent, the younger sister of Elifler, who wast staying at Ribchester under Llywarch’s protection whilst her brother and uncle were absent from their kingdoms. A fortunate thing, too, as Urien and the Princess of York both took rather an instant fancy to each other. So, it wast decided that if Elidyr died in his attempt to take Caernarvon —’

  ‘My brother be going to wed!’ Bridgit guessed the punchline, nearly jumping out of her skin with excitement. ‘Fetch him, quickly.’ She ushered her husband out to do her will, as she hastened to make herself look presentable.

  Rhun didn’t have to go far. Urien was pacing the corridor just outside the door, as he had been for several hours. When the High King gave a whistle, the King of Gwent and, soon, Reged, came running.

  ‘How fares my sister? Will she speak with me?’ he hounded Rhun, having pondered these questions for hours.

  Rhun simply nodded.

  ‘Did thee tell her about Brimesent?’ Urien moved past the High King to enter the bedchamber.

  Again Rhun nodded. ‘I fear her enthusiasm may overwhelm thee,’ he assured with a wink.

  ‘Splendid, Majesty … I cannot tell thee how relieved I am.’ Urien made haste to speak with Bridgit, as he was most eager to make amends with his sister. ‘Urien of Reged hast rather a fine ring to it, dost thou not think so?’ He posed the question to Bridgit as he entered, throwing his arms wide in victory.

  ‘Congratulations!’ She squealed with delight and embraced Urien, and Rhun closed the door so that they might speak alone.

  Blain had fled back to Powys via boat, and hence Gareth had been unable to recover his wife and child from their captor. Cai had also gone missing in the wake of the battle and so it was assumed that he’d been taken hostage also.

  Not that it mattered how many Blain kidnapped; nothing could protect him from what fate had in store. In Rhun’s m
ind, this hostage situation was yet another incentive to execute his elemental vow without hesitation or question. In a few days, the ten-year-old Prince of Powys, Solomon, would be king. Until Solomon came of age, Prince Owen would rule in Powys in his stead. Owen was still faithful to the Goddess and her council, thus all hostages would be released.

  ‘Killing in the name of peace,’ mumbled Rhun, his eyes lost in the roaring fire that heated Bryce’s recovery room.

  Thee cannot place personal friendship before the welfare of the entire nation!

  Rhun did not have to seek Taliesin to know what he would say on the subject. Yet his soul found no solace in knowing that Blain’s death would be considered just and welcomed by many.

  ‘I imagined eternal paradise very differently.’

  The High King’s attention diverted to the bed not far away, where Bryce now sat upright, checking the bulging muscles around his abdomen for a wound. He looked to Rhun, appearing most bewildered when he failed to locate so much as a scratch.

  ‘I wast run through from behind. I know it.’

  ‘Aye, ’tis true.’ Rhun raised himself and slowly approached to begin his explanation, still unsure of how much he would divulge to Bryce. ‘But thy death wast never meant to be and by the grace of the Goddess and her elements, thy life hast been restored.’

  ‘Thy wife!’ Bryce suddenly remembered Bridgit’s sad predicament at the time he’d lost consciousness.

  ‘She was spared,’ Rhun assured him. ‘I arrived in time to prevent her being defiled.’

  ‘Praise the Goddess.’ Bryce breathed a sigh of relief, but having been in the company of the Dragon’s kindred some thirty years, he knew that the Otherworld never performed favours free of charge. There always had to be an exchange of kind. ‘What be the going rate in Annwn for a life these days?’

  ‘The death of another.’ Rhun found it difficult to look Bryce in the eye and so moved to pour him a drink of water. ‘The man who murdered thee as chance would have it.’ He passed Bryce the goblet of water and thinking it best not to make further comment, he returned to his seat by the fire.

  Bryce edged his way over to sit on the side of the bed facing Rhun. Any fool could tell the High King was tormented and if this deal Rhun had struck had something to do with his dis-ease, Bryce was not about to let his young friend carry the burden alone. ‘So thee recognised the weapon that wast pulled from my body?’

  Rhun only nodded in response, as he finished off the mead in the goblet he’d left by the fire.

  ‘So… who do I have to kill?’ Bryce queried casually, whereby Rhun nearly choked on his drink.

  ‘Nay.’ He spat the excess liquid from his mouth into the fire. ‘It be my destiny to confront the man in question and not thine.’ Rhun was determined; Bryce had hit a nerve. ‘If I had only done away with him when first advised to do so, much of the recent debacle would have been avoided.’ When he saw the shock on Bryce’s face, Rhun knew he’d said too much.

  ‘Blain,’ Bryce uttered, devastated by the realisation. ‘Thy prophecy hast come to pass.’

  Rhun was dumbfounded by the comment. ‘How did thee learn of it?’

  ‘Cai wast helping me spy on Blain following thy last visit to Arwystli. Thy prophecy had Blain scared out of his wits! Or so I thought.’ Bryce lowered his head to rest in his hands, his sorrow and shock turning his stomach.

  ‘It matters not if Blain fears the prediction.’ Rhun looked back to the fire, straining to keep the hurt from reflecting in his voice. ‘His actions have made the event inevitable … the Goddess and her folk want him dead.’

  Bryce raised his head, barely able to believe that there was still a trace of remorse in the High King’s voice. ‘I can well understand why.’ He moved closer to the fire and crouched to speak more intimately with Rhun. ‘Even with all Blain hast put thee through, and I feel sure I am yet to discover the half of his crimes, still, thee would prefer to forgive him than bring him to justice?’

  ‘But am I not just as much to blame?’ Rhun stood, compelled by his belief.

  ‘Would thee pretend to be a lesser man than thou art, just so that my poor, fame-starved brother dost not have to feel himself inferior?’ Bryce rose to confront him. ‘Come on, Rhun … thou art the better warrior, scholar and friend, and always have been.’

  ‘That be the whole point, Bryce,’ he stressed. ‘Deep down thou hast always known that I am more than I appear to be.’ Rhun clarified his reasoning and Bryce could not argue the fact. ‘I am every bit the deceiver that Blain hast been forced to become, just to compete with me. But he aspires to an impossible dream. He never stood a chance of beating me and never will, and yet I encouraged his competition.’ His underlying guilt finally surfaced, as tears of remorse built in his eyes. ‘I drove him to this … when I should have had the foresight to see it coming.’ Rhun turned away and bracing his hands on his knees, he attempted to compose himself.

  ‘In that case, we all drove him to this,’ Bryce resolved, serenely. ‘The nature of Blain be competition. If the Goddess in her wisdom hast thrown the like of thee into his path, dost it not stand to reason that Blain had a lesson to learn from the encounter? A lesson that I am afraid he hast failed miserably … and that can be no soul’s fault but Blain’s own.’

  As the High King raised himself to a standing position, his guilt left him with the realisation that Bryce had a point. ‘Then I shall make sure that he learns that lesson before he departs this earth.’ As Rhun turned back to Bryce, he was filled with renewed purpose. ‘As be damned if I intend to go through this with him again.’

  Rhun visited the damp, musky chamber at Arwystli that had once played host to Vanora’s conjuring and more recently Selwyn’s poisoning, before dealing with the more grievous business he had to attend in the city this night.

  All the vile scriptures that Vanora had penned whilst under the influence of the witch, Mahaud, Rhun piled high and then ignited with a torch. Three times in Gwynedd’s past the evil crone had reared her ugly head to wreak chaos upon the allied kingdoms. During Mahaud’s last reign of terror Javotte had lost her mother, Blain his father, and Rhun had lost his father indirectly. Thus the High King found it difficult to believe that Blain and Javotte would now be utilising the dark forces that had once cost them all so dearly. If they had started dabbling in the occult sciences, chances were it wouldn’t be too long before they attempted to conjure entities from the ethers to aid their cause. With less than pure intentions, the type of intelligences Javotte would attract would be like natured. The last thing the motherland needed was another lesser etheric world intelligence running around weaving sinister, supernatural mischief.

  Never again, Rhun decided on the quiet, as he watched the corrupt literature disintegrate in the flames.

  He fed the fire with all the potions and strange ingredients that were stored about the room and a thick smoke from all the parchment billowed forth, making the blaze appear worse than it truly was. As the door on the chamber was designed for keeping people out rather than locking people in, Rhun dropped the wooden barricade into the iron rungs provided on either side of the doorframe, to prevent it being opened from outside.

  By now Selwyn would have transported Gareth’s wife and child safely home to Caernarvon. The Merlin was then to deliver Cai to the company of his brothers, Owen and Bryce, at Degganwy, where he was to await the High King’s return.

  That ought to keep the household distracted for a bit.

  Rhun looked over his smouldering handiwork before departing the scene of his diversion to seek out this evening’s true objective. He knew fate would ensure that his target was alone.

  Of all the rooms at Arwystli that Blain could have been frequenting this evening, Rhun thought it ironic that he joined the King of Powys in the armoury. He was inspecting the latest batch of broadswords for his army, selecting the finest example to add to the hundreds of weapons that were already displayed around the walls of the massive room.

  ‘Looking to rep
lace the sword thee left in thy brother?’ Rhun queried from some distance away and Blain jumped out of his skin.

  ‘How did thee get in here?’ The King of Powys gripped tight the hilt of the weapon he was inspecting.

  ‘By means … otherworldly,’ Rhun explained in a vexing fashion. ‘The Night Hunter hast sent me to fulfil my prophecy, Blain. Thee vowed to me that thee would never give me just cause to take thy life, and yet here I am to do just that,’ he announced sourly.

  ‘Well, once thee had voiced thy intent to murder me, it seemed a matter of destroy or be destroyed,’ Blain explained, wielding the sword he held as if limbering up to use it.

  ‘But by attacking the Goddess’ appointed —’

  ‘The Goddess abandoned us along with thy mother,’ Blain cut in. ‘Even the High Merlin be of little threat without her. Her Circle of Twelve hast all but dissolved and the council of the Goddess be in ruins —’

  ‘Elidyr died at Caernarvon, Blain, shortly after thee fled the scene.’ Rhun thought he’d best bring the King of Powys up to date on the state of the nation. ‘His kingdom will now be ruled by Urien …’

  Blain’s eyes shot open wide with the news.

  ‘… who hast been engaged to the Princess of York. Talorg wast the only man slain at Riderich’s battle at Arfderydd, and Bridei now rules in Alban as wast meant. So, contrary to what thee might believe, the council of the Goddess be very much intact.’

  Blain silently began to fume; surely it was not possible that Rhun had managed to thwart him on every front. ‘And who shall rule in Dyfed?’ he queried to spite his victor.

  ‘Why, Bryce of course,’ Rhun replied, casually.

  ‘Now I know thou art spinning tales.’ Blain pointed the tip of the sword toward the High King in challenge. ‘My brother’s wound was absolutely fatal.’

  Rhun shook his head appearing amused. ‘Dear Blain, when art thou going to learn that when dealing with the Goddess there art no absolutes. By the power of the elements the great mother hast restored thy brother to health, for his death wast not meant … the same cannot be said for thee, however.’