The Stolen Bride

by Tony Hays

  We all laughed at that. Now that I could see they had survived, my heart lightened.

  “I felt certain that you would need to question him here, since he seemed the only survivor of the mercenary band. I left someone in charge and brought them myself.”

  Arthur clapped him on the shoulder.

  But despite my amusement at how events had transpired, I still felt remarkably unsettled. More so than even before. Trevelyan’s people were nomads, poaching on lands as they saw fit. Which would not have been a problem had Trevelyan not so desperately desired a kingdom of his own. Ambition, one of those deadly things. David was more involved in the conspiracy than he would ever admit, but was he led into it by Druce or Trevelyan or the Saxons? What had brought these parties together? They were an odd collection for a conspiracy.

  “Come, Malgwyn,” Arthur said. “Petrocus has read all of the laws and heard all of the evidence. He has set tonight as the time that he will render a decision on Ysbail’s right to rule.”

  “Have you any doubts that he will uphold her right?”

  “No, I do not.” Arthur paused. “But tonight is more important than that. It is a date that we should all celebrate in the future.”

  I did not see what he meant, and I did not hesitate to say it.

  “Oh, Malgwyn. Of all the people that surround me, I was certain that you would understand. Tonight, our peoples will accept and abide by the rule of law, impartially determined. No bribes will change hands. No intimidation will be a factor. Do you realize how impossible this would have been just a few years ago?”

  “I am not certain,” I said with a dry chuckle, “that it is possible now. But perhaps.”

  “Forever the pessimist. I am proud of you, Malgwyn. You have played a true role in bringing this about. I will forever value your talents in war, but this, this is so much more important.”

  If I live another ninety winters, I will never forget the light in Arthur’s eyes, a sparkle like that in the eyes of a young boy when he had won his first footrace. Had I the ability to capture that and store it in an amphora, I could cure the ills of the world.

  “Forgive Malgwyn, Arthur,” Merlin recommended. “He has been sorely used on this journey, and he loses himself too much in thought. I will bet even now that he is reviewing all that has happened and attempting to find some fault in what he himself has discovered.”

  “I am thinking that I should leave at first light to return to Castellum Arturius and my family.” Which was not exactly what I was thinking, but I did not like Merlin’s mind reading. He was too often right.

  Arthur looked to Kay. “I have kept you too long from your lands and the needs of our army. Your service as my chief steward has been exemplary in every way. I wish you now to go to Ambrosius’s old fort to our east, make it your seat, and begin construction of the defensive rampart that he has recommended.”

  I studied Kay’s face to see how this would settle with him, and at first he seemed pleased. But then he asked, “And who is to assume my place?”

  “I think young Ider has proved himself on this journey.”

  A dark, dark cloud covered Kay’s face. He walked off without speaking. I saw that in the days to come I would need to speak with him as we used to; I would need to find out what tortured him so.

  For Arthur’s part, he chose to ignore Kay’s ill mood. I did not like, though, the narrowing of Arthur’s eyes as he watched his old friend walk away.

  * * *

  An hour later and with Merlin’s help, I had secured an audience with Lady Ysbail. Only four of us were in the chamber where Doged had breathed his last: myself, Merlin, Ysbail, and Cilydd.

  “I am impressed by the both of you, most especially with you, Cilydd,” I began.

  Cilydd shuffled uncomfortably from side to side. “Why is that, Master Malgwyn?” His tone was light, jovial, but the way he moved put the lie to his words.

  “Oh, stop this!” The ferocity of Merlin’s words stunned even me, and the force drove both Cilydd and Ysbail back a step. “He knows. Do him the honor of speaking the truth. He has earned it.”

  “When did you strike your bargain with Doged?”

  Cilydd turned away, but Ysbail turned him back. “Tell him or I will.”

  “Shortly after the wedding,” the young noble grudgingly admitted. “He sent for me one night. I had not yet challenged his rule openly, and he was appreciative.” Cilydd paused.

  “Go on,” I urged. “Doged is beyond caring now.”

  Cilydd hesitated still.

  Ysbail shoved him gently to the side, and I could not help but smile. She was a formidable woman. “Lord Doged was a good man. He made several attempts but could not … make it work. Doged was very apologetic.” And then she paused. But the straight line that was her lips grew straighter still and she continued without prompting.

  “Our marriage was arranged to provide Doged with an heir, to put a stop to all these rumblings of rebellion. I am a woman, chattel to be bargained for. But Doged was not a typical lord. He was both gentle and kind, and he never raised a hand to me. His failure brought a sadness to him, and I was touched by that.

  “When he came to me with this … this … plan, I saw no reason not to agree. Sleeping with one man I did not love or another made little difference. But I was struck by how he solicited my approval. In truth, I thought the whole disguise business unnecessary.”

  I turned to Cilydd again. “What were the terms of your agreement with Doged?”

  “That upon his death, given a decent interval, I would marry Ysbail and lead these lands as his, or rather my, son’s regent. Doged was a very old man, and he was not in good health.”

  “So,” Merlin interjected. “Doged wrote to me for help in how to use the disguise.”

  “But something happened that you did not anticipate,” I ventured.

  The new queen and the young lord grinned sheepishly and hung their heads. Ysbail spoke first. “Aye. We fell in love.”

  “Did Doged know?”

  “He did, but he was not angry,” Ysbail hurried. “In some way, I think he was pleased. He said once that we reminded him of another young lord and lady of his acquaintance.” She turned to Merlin. “Do you know of whom he spoke?”

  Neither Merlin nor I answered.

  When the moment passed, I asked a question that had burned inside of me. “When you denied that you were with child, you were harboring a hope that the baby could be acknowledged as Cilydd’s?”

  She blushed, so unlike the imperious queen I had come to know. I decided that I liked the one who blushed more. “Yes,” Ysbail said finally. “I was not thinking clearly.”

  What human in love did?

  “It is more important than ever that this remain secret,” I said. “As long as you carry Doged’s child, you will be safe. I believe that you have gained much respect from the people by your actions in this muddled affair. Doged was well respected; in time I believe that Cilydd will be as well. But if the truth were known, it may very well foment the rebellion that Doged so badly wished to avoid.”

  “Let us swear an oath,” Merlin began, and we did, with four hands clasped together.

  “And how long must we maintain this charade?” Ysbail asked.

  “I would wait several months, perhaps a year, before marrying,” I began, but an idea sprang into my mind. “Let us do this,” and I explained my plan.

  * * *

  What hours were left that day before Arthur’s dawning of a new age I spent sleeping in the ramshackle hut that Ysbail had allotted to me earlier. Faithful Sulien kept watch over me, though I knew that he was as exhausted as I. Daron was strangely absent, but with Trevelyan as dead as the present rebellion in Doged’s lands I did not judge that she was in any danger. She too had had a difficult few days.

  Merlin came by and woke me in time to prepare for the feasting. I had no clean braccae or tunic with me, but I had the time and walked into the vicus where I sought out Daoud, now busy selling his wares to
the great crowd that was gathering. Rumors of a new ruler assuming command were not dampened by the fighting at Castellum Dinas. A new ruler meant feasting and drinking. That was worth risking a little danger.

  “Master Malgwyn,” rumbled Daoud’s deep voice. “Please, I have anything you need.”

  Of that I had no doubt. His stall was large and crammed with everything from fibulae to bone hairpins to combs to peplos gowns to tunics. I even spied a dozen amphorae of olive oil and a half dozen of wine, leaning against a wall. The wine, I was certain, was some exotic type from far away.

  “I simply need some new braccae and a tunic for this evening’s feast.”

  The dark-skinned man nodded. “Of course. Your recent duties have allowed little time for such niceties. Yet, a councilor to the Rigotamos is more than just a soldier.”

  “Unfortunately.”

  Daoud dug through his bins and emerged with braccae of the right size and a crimson tunic, just like those we, who served Arthur, wore. I had to ask the question.

  “Do you stock items for every possible class of customer?”

  He just grinned. “A merchant must. If I have what you need today, you will not bother with my competitors when you have a simpler request later. You will come straight to me.”

  “A wise practice.” I paid him from my leather pouch. “How long have you been among us? I would know something of your history.”

  “Only about ten years or so, master. Before that, I was a sailor with various merchant ships.”

  “From what people do you hail?”

  “My people are desert nomads that ply the sands between Jerusalem and Egypt.”

  “A desert nomad becomes a sailor. That is unusual.”

  He laughed again. “I tired of the sands. And then I tired of the water.”

  “Well, I am pleased that you have settled among us. Should you visit Castellum Arturius, you would be most welcome.”

  “That is very kind of you, master.” He hesitated. “Master Malgwyn? Is it true that the Saxon embassy were killed in the fighting at Castellum Dinas?”

  “Yes, unfortunately, they became involved in the fighting between the consilium’s troops and Ysbail’s supporters.” I saw a glint of frustration. “Before you chastise me, the Saxon envoys involved themselves; we did not aim to involve them.” Something made me pause. “I realize that you were not accusing me of misdeeds, but I am curious as to why you, a foreigner, would be curious about this?”

  “I had two customers earlier who were, I think, soldiers of Lord David. They were speaking of the Saxons, and one said that David intended to use the law to ‘bite off his other arm.’ Well, I immediately thought of you. Though I am certain that you realize that you have many enemies, I thought perhaps that you should know of this.”

  That David was contemplating bringing charges against me was no surprise. Nor was I dismayed that he aimed to paint it as a matter for the law to handle. And while I knew that Arthur would protect me, I also believed that the law would protect me as well. After all, the Saxons had already dishonored the ancient laws of hospitality by taking up arms at Castellum Dinas.

  I thanked Daoud again and returned to the fort.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Three hours later, Petrocus faced what was assuredly his largest audience and his most important task, and the severity of his purpose had left wrinkles where once smooth skin held sway.

  The aisled hall saw benches replace the regular seats. Kay told me that Petrocus had his monachi bring the benches down to Trevelgue. I chuckled a little. It seemed our monachus was learning a bit about theatrics.

  The principals had not emerged from the private chambers at the back of the hall. I felt a strange tug at my braccae and saw that Cilydd’s son, Culhwch, was working to get my attention. One hand was wrapped in my braccae and the other clutched a long, thin object wrapped in deer hide.

  “Master Culhwch. How good to see you.”

  “Master Malgwyn,” he began, trying his best to sound grown-up, like a man. “My father wishes you to have this in appreciation for the service you have rendered him.” And then, in an instinctual move that showed how big the little boy’s heart truly was, without saying a word, he stripped away the hide for me.

  The gift was a beautiful, bone-handled dagger, the blade new, shiny, and sharp. Skillfully carved into the bone was the Cross, the symbol that graced the shields of Arthur’s men and their tunics.

  I pulled the old, well-used dagger from my belt and handed it to Culhwch. With a little flourish, to please the boy, I stowed the new dagger in my belt.

  Culhwch stared at the dull, nicked blade of my old dagger as if it were made of gold. “Have you killed with this?”

  “I have. But for now, I think you should worry about peeling apples with it.”

  He smiled up at me and grinned. “Yes, master.”

  “Where is your father?”

  “With the Rigotamos and Lady Ysbail.”

  Young Culhwch ran off to play with his new dagger before I could ask him anything else. I thought about going back to the chambers myself, but, in truth, I had not the strength for the negotiations that were taking place there. But I was curious as to how my plan would work.

  “Tristan has entered the fort,” I heard Sulien’s voice at my ear.

  A wash of uncertainty covered me. I was not sure how to feel about Tristan now. Though he had not committed his troops to the battle at Castellum Dinas, neither had he fulfilled his promise and joined us.

  Petrocus, Ysbail, Bedevere, Arthur, Cilydd, and David emerged from their seclusion. Leaning against one of the posts holding the roof, I settled in to see how all that had occurred would be molded to please the public.

  The monk Petrocus looked decidedly uneasy, as did Arthur and Bedevere. Ysbail’s expression was one of deep sorrow, as was Cilydd’s. I straightened as I saw the joy in David’s eyes. Something was amiss here. And it did not bode well for me.

  “My lady Ysbail,” Petrocus began. “I was charged by you and the Rigotamos with determining the right of a woman to rule over these or any lands in our domain. Your charge was agreed to by all those who opposed your rule. Hence, my decision will establish a sort of legal precedent for our peoples. With that in mind, I have considered all factors, consulted both the written records and scholarly books, as well as visited with elderly men who have lived long and know our ancient tribal customs well.

  “First, let me say plainly that if Doged’s marriage to Ysbail had been longer or if she had had issue with Doged, this controversy would not exist. Ample evidence exists in our annals of women ruling in their husband’s stead. In other times I have mentioned Boudicca of the Iceni and examples from the Scotti, including Lady Igraine, here among the Cornovii.

  “So, what we must come to is this question: Does Ysbail, herself, meet the requirements? No one argues that her marriage to Doged was not legally concluded. The question then becomes, is the short duration of her marriage a disabling fact? Does it change her right to inherit? I can only conclude that no, it does not. If a man sells a hide of land to his neighbor, and they agree on the price and such a price is paid, and then the man dies the next day, does that invalidate his arrangement with his neighbor? No, and no one would argue that it does. If the marriage was legally entered into, then no matter its length, all the attendant rights and responsibilities attached thereunto remain valid.”

  A collective sigh resounded through the hall. A couple of groans of disbelief marred the response to Petrocus’s decision, but none with enough force to suggest that anyone would challenge it.

  Arthur rose then. “Because of her short time here, Ysbail has decided to appoint Lord Cilydd to lead her soldiers and to consult with her on all matters relating to these lands. He has sworn to serve her.”

  Though a few grumbles could be heard, a wave of murmured approval easily drowned them out. This affair was coming to a most satisfying conclusion, and I was pleased.

  At that, I expected that the
feasting would begin in earnest, but Arthur, Ysbail, and the rest stayed in their seats. Including Petrocus. A rumble gradually rose across the room as an argument was in progress between Arthur, David, and Petrocus.

  Only one thing could bring this group together. Daoud had warned me. For a fleeting second, I considered slipping out the door, but my pride would not let me. I was not ashamed of having killed Ceawlin, and since they had taken arms against us, I believed that they had lost any protection that their status afforded them.

  Finally they separated. Petrocus stood. “Lord David has brought even more serious charges against Master Malgwyn, Lord Arthur’s councilor. Since I am here, already serving as an iudex, and since it was Lord Doged’s grant of hospitality that has apparently been violated, Lady Ysbail has asked me to continue and sit in judgment on this matter as well. Lord Arthur has no objection.”

  “Then have him taken into custody and trussed as poor Mordred was.”

  Petrocus dropped his head and looked down his long hawk’s nose and shook his head at David. “Master Malgwyn seems to have no interest in fleeing. Will you join us here, Malgwyn?”

  That Arthur did not object to my trial for killing the Saxon meant that I was completely on my own. Bedevere, blast his hide, could not bring himself to do more than tell the truth. For all the seeming politeness, I knew that David was out for my blood. In some ways, I felt a sudden relief. Perhaps “Smiling Malgwyn,” the man who killed with pleasure, was to receive the justice he so richly deserved. To gain pleasure from killing was no virtue and should be punished. This was bound to happen sometime; I had flaunted convention and pridefully placed my judgment over others better suited.

  But though my stomach was flopping around, threatening to revolt, I placed a smile on my face and strode, purposefully, to the front of the hall.

  “Esteemed Petrocus,” I began. “It is well known that Lord David has nothing but hatred in his heart for me. We have clashed since the day that the consilium chose Arthur over him to be Rigotamos.”