‘Foreseen by thee, at thy trial with Gwyn ap Nudd.’ Taliesin abruptly put an end to Rhun’s reservations as he enlightened him.
‘Tell me what I saw, High Merlin,’ the High King half requested, half demanded.
But Taliesin shook his head. ‘To tell thee would be to turn an asset into a hindrance. Better that fate surprise thee than to exhaust thyself trying to prevent the inevitable … which be in the interest of the greater good.’
‘What?’ Rhun frowned to appeal. ‘I would never act contrary to our cause, Taliesin! Just tell me what I must do to prevent this conspiracy and I shall do it.’
Taliesin fixed the young ruler with a steady gaze. ‘In order to crush our opposition thee must kill a man.’
‘Name the corpse,’ Rhun challenged, ready to depart at once.
‘It wast thee who named thy adversary in this affair,’ Taliesin reminded him. ‘Thee cited Blain, King of Powys.’
Rhun stood, rigid with dread and fear. ‘Nay! I do not believe thee. I could no sooner kill Blain than my own son.’ He walked away some distance, as if to escape the lingering notion.
‘Then war it will be,’ Taliesin concluded, as if he didn’t mind either way.
‘I can stop this.’ Rhun paced about. ‘I shall go to Blain and offer the position of High King to him.’
‘And what will that achieve? The war will still be fought.’ Taliesin spied the mead and poured himself a glass. ‘Besides, thy crown will not go to him. The Tylwyth Teg have chosen to support thee.’
Rhun bowed his head, still determined to find a solution, for he was resolute that killing Blain was not an option. ‘What dost thou know about Bridei of the Picts?’ Rhun returned to his seat.
‘Descended from Cunedda via the royal female line of Alban, as thou wast from the royal male line of Gwynedd, Bridei be a present-life incarnation of thee.’
Rhun smiled in disbelief. ‘Hast mother nature messed up somehow?’
Taliesin stuck out his bottom lip and shook his head. ‘’Tis a common enough occurrence. I have met several of my earthly incarnations … and indeed thy son, Cadwell, be the Chosen incarnation of his grandfather, Vortipor.’
The High King shied from believing this, but Taliesin nodded to assure him it was quite true. ‘I intend to meet with Bridei,’ Rhun informed, regaining his serious mood.
‘I know,’ said the Druid.
‘A sound decision then?’ Rhun raised both eyebrows to await his adviser’s verdict.
Taliesin smiled broadly. ‘It always pays to know thyself, Majesty.’
It may have been coming to the end of the cold season in Gwynedd, but the night air in Alban still had the chill of the dead of winter upon it. Rhun was glad he’d dressed warmly.
Selwyn had bought him to a moor lit only by the moonlight and a small campfire in the distance. There was no mist about and visibility was excellent.
‘Bridei awaits thee by the fire,’ Selwyn instructed, moving off in the opposite direction.
‘Art thou not coming with me?’ Rhun had expected an introduction.
‘Forgive me, Majesty, but I have other plans.’ The Merlin merrily bowed out of the proceedings and took off across country.
Rhun looked to the nearest rise in the direction his Merlin was headed to spy the unmistakable silhouette of the Druidess, Kaileah. The silhouette of the Merlin came to join hers and they embraced.
‘Thou art excused, Selwyn,’ uttered Rhun, with a grin of approval. ‘I know what I would rather be doing.’ As it was not his destiny to have a passionate affair in the moonlight this evening, Rhun gave a heavy sigh of regret and looked back to the distant fire. ‘I sure hope I like myself,’ he muttered warily, trudging off towards the light.
The figure by the campfire was seated with his back to Rhun. A long, dark fur robe hung around his body and even with the hood drawn back off his head, Rhun could see precious little of the man he was to meet. He circled around the site at a distance to approach from the front.
Bridei looked up slowly, having been aware of Rhun’s looming presence for some time, and upon viewing him the Pictish warlord rose dumbstruck.
For Rhun, it was like something from a dream, confronting Bridei — a vision of a forgotten primitive past. Quite apart from the fact that Bridei’s physical features mirrored Rhun’s own, the distinctive deep blue symbols intricately depicted upon the warlord’s skin, and his long braided hair, were familiar to Rhun on a deeper level. Bridei may have been ten years younger than the High King, but his build was, in fact, larger and more akin to that of Rhun’s father, Maelgwn.
‘Welcome, Rhun, High King of allied Briton,’ said Bridei to break the silence, although, clearly, he still could not believe his eyes.
‘Bridei, I presume.’ Rhun smiled warmly and eased the tension with a chuckle of amusement. ‘No wonder Talorg feared our meeting.’ He looked the warlord over, as if proudly admiring himself in the mirror.
Bridei smiled in return, finding the notion funny also. ‘My enemy be causing thee strife, I hear. Please,’ Bridei motioned Rhun to be seated by the fire with him, ‘tell me thy woes, and perhaps between us we can work out what Talorg hast planned.’
‘Another view would be most welcome,’ Rhun assured, producing a waterbag from beneath his cloak. ‘Grandfather’s mead,’ he advised. ‘Gwynedd’s finest.’
Bridei’s smile broadened. ‘Great minds think alike, my grandmother always said.’ Bridei pulled a drinking pouch from beneath his fur robe.
‘Cheers!’ they both said at once and then laughed at the synchronicity.
As dawn’s light threatened on the distant horizon, Selwyn and Kaileah returned to Bridei’s campfire, to find two very drunk and very chummy warlords. They were still seated, talking and drinking, although they were leaning against each other for stability.
Bridei noted the Merlin and the Druidess first. ‘Why Kaileah,’ he laughed, ‘thy feathers art all ruffled.’
Rhun burst into laughter at this and leaned forward, whereupon Bridei lost his support and fell to the ground. The High King found this so amusing that he keeled over and fell about on the ground with his new drinking companion.
‘And thou wast afraid they might not get along?’ Kaileah commented sideways to Selwyn as she folded her arms, slightly amused by the outcome of the important political meeting.
Selwyn raised his hands to his head. ‘This be no way to win a war.’ He made a move to raise his King off the ground. Kaileah followed to recover her Lord.
‘Have ye managed to reach any conclusions, Majesty?’ Selwyn queried, as he raised Rhun to a seated position.
‘Aye, we reached any conclusions,’ Rhun mumbled, not making too much sense in his drunken stupor.
‘We decided,’ Bridei sat upright with a bit of help from Kaileah, and leaned over Rhun to speak with Selwyn, ‘that we might allow thee to wed my sister … ’cause the Goddess knows she hast rejected all her other suitors.’
‘Thy sister?’ Selwyn wasn’t following. Couldn’t the man tell that it was the Druidess who had stolen his heart?
‘Come, Bridei.’ Kaileah placed his arm over her shoulder to raise him from the ground, and only then did Selwyn notice how informal they were with one another.
‘He means thee!’ Selwyn suddenly worked it out, standing to confront Kaileah about it. ‘Thou art a Princess?’ he squeaked, not too sure how he should react.
‘Shh!’ Bridei urged, one finger raised to his mouth. ‘’Tis a secret,’ he giggled.
Kaileah only stared back at Selwyn as if she were too scared to find out how he would react, which served to confirm the claim.
‘Her son shall be the next ruler of Alban,’ enlightened Bridei, whereby the Merlin turned pale.
‘I think thou hast said enough, Bridei,’ Kaileah scolded him quietly. ‘Allow me to get thee to thy horse.’
Rhun had staggered to a standing position and was now wobbling on his own two feet. ‘Farewell my friend, I shall visit thee again, present —’ he h
iccupped ‘— ly.’
‘I look forward to seeing me again,’ Bridei waved, as Kaileah dragged him over to his mount.
‘Art thou still breathing, merlin.’ Rhun shuffled over to lean on Selwyn for support. ‘Thee sure can pick ’em.’ He hiccupped again.
The shock dissipated and Selwyn smiled, his gaze still fixed on his lover. ‘Excuse I, Majesty.’ He left Rhun to sway on his own two feet, and approached Kaileah to speak with her quietly. Their intimate mutterings ended in a kiss.
‘Aw!’ Rhun sighed loudly. ‘I do love a happy ending.’
‘Me too,’ Bridei yelled back, threatening to fall from his mount at any moment.
Due to their charges’ loutish behaviour, the lovers were forced to part and Kaileah joined her brother on horseback.
‘Be careful,’ Selwyn urged her, as he watched his Pictish Princess ride away.
The dawn light betrayed the large beaming smile on the Merlin’s face as he returned to Rhun. ‘The Goddess told me that my true love would be extraordinary and I did not believe her.’ He shook his head in confusion. ‘Well, shame on me!’ He let loose a loud ‘Yahoo!’, high on life. And Rhun, in his inebriated state, was compelled to join in.
When the High King awoke late the next afternoon, it seemed that his entire being was wreaking vengeance for his abuse — the tip of his crown all the way down to his toes pulsated with agonising bursts. It felt as though a boulder had been lodged in his brain, for he could not raise his weighty head off the bed. ‘So much for immortals not needing rest,’ Rhun mumbled to himself, pushing down to raise himself. ‘I can be cut in two and recover in the blink of an eye,’ he lifted himself a fraction and collapsed back onto the bed, flat on his face. ‘So why dost it take me a week to recover from a night of mead?’
‘Majesty?’
Rhun was upright and turned about in a second, the sudden drastic movement nearly making him ill.
‘No need for alarm, ’tis only I, Sir Gawain.’
Once the High King rubbed the sleep from his eyes, they came to focus on his friend. ‘Gawain.’ Rhun breathed a sigh of relief.
He and Gawain had often been mistaken for brothers when they were younger, although Gawain had always been a little taller and lankier. His hair was dark and straight, just like Rhun’s, but where Rhun’s eyes were near black, Gawain’s eyes were steely blue, as his mother’s had been. A little under a year older than Rhun, Gawain had yet to marry and was notorious with the ladies.
‘I would not have disturbed thee, but thy signature on the assignment of troops to Riderich cannot wait any longer,’ Gawain explained, noticing how perturbed and pale Rhun appeared. ‘Art thou feeling poorly?’
‘Self-inflicted,’ Rhun held up a hand to confess, struggling slowly off the bed still fully clothed.
Gawain found this amusing, as it was rare his King ever drank so much as to reach this sorry state. ‘Making the most of thy queen’s absence, Highness?’
Rhun attempted a nod, but refrained due to pain, and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I am a bad influence on myself,’ he admitted. He praised the Goddess that Bridgit had stayed in Dyfed, well away from all the strife of the north. ‘Send word to my queen in Dyfed and tell her to stay put until otherwise notified.’
Gawain laughed at this, thinking Rhun was making a joke about wanting to get drunk every night. ‘I think thee might make thyself very ill. Why not take a lover instead?’ Gawain suggested an alternative to drink. ‘Thee can have one of mine.’
It took Rhun a second to figure out the misunderstanding and he attempted a smile as he caught up with the conversation. ‘Believe me, Gawain. With my queen, the last thing I need be a lover.’
‘As I have said many times, thou art a fortunate man indeed,’ Gawain granted.
‘I am.’ The King managed a smile as he took a moment to dwell on his wife, and he realised how much he missed her. ‘I am serious about sending a messenger to Bridgit. Will thee see to it?’
‘Of course,’ Gawain became straight-faced. ‘Be there some concern for Gwynedd’s welfare?’
‘Perhaps,’ was all Rhun would say. ‘Who did we decide would deliver the troops to Riderich?’
‘Gareth, as he resides at Caernarvon,’ Gawain replied.
Rhun considered him the best choice, although it seemed a great shame that Gareth’s father, Sir Tiernan, was now too old for the assignment. Tiernan was an outstanding diplomat, a feared warrior and a patriot of Gwynedd without question. Gareth had all the same traits and talents as his well-famed father, but he’d never before had to handle a situation as precarious as the one Rhun was about to send him into. ‘All our Master warriors art to stay put … send some of our more adept and experienced soldiers.’
Gawain was shocked that the High King would go back on his word to the council. ‘But thee promised!’
‘No one shall ever know … and under no circumstances art these troops to go into battle for anyone, until I give the word,’ Rhun advised sternly, as he would not have his orders questioned by anyone, not even a blood brother.
Gawain frowned, having no wish to question Rhun, as he’d never had cause to before. ‘If there be trouble afoot, I pray thee allow me to assist.’
‘I will,’ Rhun assured him, assuming a more civil tone. ‘As soon as I establish all the facts.’ He held both hands to his eyes and pressed hard, hoping to relieve some of the tension there. ‘Sorry if I am a bit short this morning —’
‘Ah … evening, Majesty,’ Gawain corrected.
Rhun’s eyes shot open as he realised he’d lost a whole day. ‘Oh Goddess.’ He rose in a fluster. ‘Thou shalt have to excuse me. I have matters of my own to attend to.’
‘But when Gareth reports to Riderich, he should tell him what?’ Gawain still didn’t understand their objective.
‘Nothing!’ Rhun emphasised. ‘Let Riderich think that all be as I vowed.’
A very worried look came over Gawain’s face. ‘Oh Majesty, I do wish thee would let me in on the logic of such a move.’
Rhun crossed his arms and served his knight with an ambiguous look. ‘I am afraid thee shall just have to trust me.’
Gawain thought about it a moment and smiled, not meaning to offend his King. ‘I am just eager to be privy to the larger picture, Highness. I do trust thee.’
‘I know and greatly appreciate thy faith.’ Rhun led his knight to the door and, after seeing him out, bolted it behind him. With a quick whiff of himself, he decided a bath was in order and thus, clothes and all, he dived into the large stone bath in his quarters. As he’d not taken the time to add the large cauldron of boiling water that bubbled over the open fire at the bath’s head, the cold water therein was a rude but well-needed awakening for the High King.
‘Holy mother!’ he cried as he surfaced, trying to shake himself free of the cold, and stripping off the layers, he submerged himself again.
Around suppertime that evening, the folk down in Powys were rather surprised when Rhun rode into the courtyard at Arwystli, alone. None more so than Selwyn, who had left the High King in Gwynedd only that morning — fortunately, no one else at the court in Powys knew this.
Only the Merlin and his novice, Prince Cai, came out to greet the High King. The others of the household were all seated at dinner. ‘What an unexpected surprise, Highness.’ Selwyn ventured to stress the annoyance in his tone, for he knew Rhun had defied the High Merlin’s wishes in order to be here this evening.
‘Long time no see, merlin.’ Rhun vexed him as he dismounted. ‘My but thou art looking well. Springtime obviously agrees with thee.’ The High King turned his attention to Cai and he embraced him. ‘Little brother …’ he ruffled the younger man’s hair, who was now twenty-two years of age.
Appearance-wise, Cai was the odd brother out in his family. Bryce and Blain had their father’s dark locks, Owen had his mother’s auburn waves, but Cai was as fair as they come, with hair as fine and straight as Rhun’s. Family resemblance still held some sway however, in that
Cai, like Bryce, had inherited Brockwell’s dimple on the chin, and all the lads had their father’s piercing blue eyes. None of the Brockwell brothers were very tall, but Cai was the only one who did not display his father’s warrior form. The young apprentice druid and Rhun had always been firm friends. Unlike Cai’s brothers, Rhun was also a scholar and a philosopher.
‘Majesty, I am so pleased thou art here.’ Cai’s face beamed with the sincerity he felt. ‘Will thee be staying long?’
‘Not even the duration of the night,’ Rhun was sorry to advise.
Cai was clearly disappointed, but he tried not to appear notably so. ‘Of course. Thy new appointment must be keeping thee well occupied.’
‘Thou hast no idea,’ Rhun confirmed, looking back to Selwyn, who still appeared annoyed with him. ‘I have come to see Blain.’
‘The king be at dinner, Highness and hast suggested thee join him.’ The Merlin motioned to the entrance of the house.
‘I am not here on a social visit.’ Rhun’s tone became more official. ‘I shall await Blain in the library. He can join me there at his leisure.’
Selwyn nodded in response to the command, although the expression on his face made it perfectly clear that this visit had him worried.
‘Fear not, merlin,’ Rhun uttered aside to him. ‘I have thought this mess through and I am pretty sure I have no idea what I am doing.’
‘When the right course of action be unclear, best not to act at all.’ The Merlin cautioned him against stirring up trouble as they had enough to deal with at present.
‘I have spoken with Taliesin.’ Rhun lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘I am aware of the two sorry options that fate intends to deal me in this affair. Thus, I intend to take a page from mother’s book and see if I cannot create a better alternative to war or murder.’
‘By breaking sacred vows?’ Selwyn finally voiced his reason for being so perturbed with his King.
‘If needs be,’ Rhun emphasised, pointedly. ‘The only difference between fate and destiny be a conscious will. And my will, merlin, be second to none.’ The expression on Selwyn’s face implied Rhun had made his point, and they headed into the main house amicably.