‘Might I keep thee company until my king joins thee, Majesty?’ Cai ventured to offer, wary of the heavy underlying mood of the High King and his mentor.
Rhun threw an arm over his friend’s shoulder and his good mood returned. ‘That would make my year, Cai.’
Inspired by the death of Conan, Bryce accompanied Urien to his meeting with Blain in the disguise of a rotting man.
Bryce hadn’t realised how uncomfortable it would be having his head and hands entirely wrapped in bandages. The women had made the dressings smell of rotting food to ensure they looked and smelt as if soiled from festering sores. Bryce was glad to finally arrive at Arwystli to get on with this charade and have it over with.
Blain met Urien on the inner bailey stairs. ‘Bad timing,’ he advised, discreetly. ‘His Majesty hast popped in for a surprise visit and he might get suspicious if he discovers thou art here in Powys.’ Amid Urien’s guards, Blain caught sight of his ally’s decrepit travelling companion. ‘What in the Otherworld hast thou brought into my house, Urien? I think this good Samaritan rubbish hast gone far enough.’
‘Fear not. Sir Eldred’s ailments are not contagious. Although the poor fellow be slowly rotting on the outside, his mind hast not suffered any.’
Blain fixed Urien with a very perturbed expression. ‘This makes me very nervous.’
‘He will not cause thee any grief, I swear,’ Urien made light of Blain’s concerns. ‘Just stick him in my room with a pitcher of mead and thee will not even be aware of his presence.’
‘Dost he serve some purpose?’ Blain looked down his nose at the hunched-over cripple whom he approached, of the mind to get a look at his face.
‘Oh, aye. He wast once a trusted advisor of my grandfather’s.’ If Urien was concerned about their deception in any way, it certainly didn’t show — not even when Blain’s attention was turned from him.
For the first time Bryce could appreciate just how good Urien was at playing both sides of the fence. This talent probably stemmed from being trained since birth to devote himself earnestly to the two completely contradictory religions in his kingdom — dividing his loyalties came easy to this young King. Still, Urien had never had family before and Bryce was hoping this was enough to keep him loyal to the High King’s cause.
‘Thou hast never mentioned this Sir Eldred before?’ Blain raised the hood of the curious stranger’s robe to expose the filthy bandages and, getting a whiff of their odour in the process, he desisted from further investigation. ‘Aw.’ He screwed up his nose in disgust. ‘Thee ought it give it a bath.’
‘We would,’ Urien concurred with a grin, ‘but we art afraid of losing half of him in the process.’ He fell in beside Blain to accompany him into the house.
Blain grinned, mildly amused by Urien’s jest. ‘Well, I need thee both out of sight until his Royal Highness departs.’
Rhun be here! The realisation echoed through Bryce’s mind, setting his heartbeat racing as he hobbled up the few stairs after Urien and his brother. I must get word to him of what I know.
‘Why did thee not send word of thy visit, Highness?’ Blain entered the library to find Rhun by the fire having a close conversation with his youngest brother. ‘Had I been more prepared, I would have met thee myself.’ Blain bowed to Rhun as was now his due.
‘It wast rude of me.’ Rhun stood to shake hands with Blain, to find that his friend’s right hand was bandaged from the tips of his fingers all the way up his wrist. This prevented Rhun from making skin contact and reading his thoughts, but whether Blain had become conscious of that fact, Rhun couldn’t say for sure.
Blain noticed Rhun’s perturbed expression as he viewed the dressing and so explained his reluctance to shake hands. ‘I injured myself … I have to keep it bound tight until it stops aching. Nothing serious,’ he opened and closed his hand carefully, then shrugged it off. ‘Damn annoying, though.’
Rhun nodded, as if believing his tale, and glancing at Cai he noticed the curious look on his face. He could only assume Blain’s injury was so recent that Cai had yet to see it, but the young Druid was not about to query his King in the company of another.
‘Until next we meet, Majesty.’ Cai took his leave of them, bowing to Rhun and then his King on his way out.
‘Hast thou got a date, little brother?’ Blain said in jest, observing how Cai was departing with more speed and purpose than usual.
‘Nay,’ Cai defended, a bit too quickly. ‘I am sure thee have much to discuss,’ he explained as an afterthought, ‘and so shall leave ye to it.’ Cai turned and left.
‘So, to what do I owe this visit?’ Blain moved to the lounge to be seated, but waited until the High King had done so first. ‘I thought thee would be in Gwynedd deploying troops for the war in the north.’
Rhun looked Blain in the eye to gauge his reaction. ‘I fear there may be more to Riderich’s war than I am being told.’
Blain’s gaze did not falter. ‘I know Riderich, Elidyr and Elifler would have pursued this war with or without High Council support. Thus it wast wise of thee to aid them,’ Blain granted, ‘as a denial would surely have divided the Council and probably destroyed it.’ As Rhun was frowning, Blain decided he’d better pour some mead.
‘It wast clear from the ballot for High King that the council already be divided.’ Rhun raised the subject he feared was at the heart of the matter, as he accepted a goblet from his host.
‘But the Gods tipped the ballot thy way and we, as mere mortals, have no right to question the Otherworld’s decision,’ Blain said surely.
To Rhun this seemed a strange resolve coming from one who was making a mockery of Taliesin’s otherworldly warning recently. ‘But the kingdoms of the north do not adhere to the word of the Goddess as we do,’ he said, pretending not to have seen Blain’s open display of contempt on the day of the council ballot. ‘I fear the wrath of Gwyn ap Nudd will not be enough to keep them allied to us should fate tempt them to a contrary path.’
‘But why should they contemplate treason, when thou hast given them thy support,’ Blain reasoned with a frown. ‘I do not understand thy grounds for concern?’
With a heavy sigh, Rhun raised himself from his seat and approached the fire. ‘Call it a premonition.’ As Rhun looked back to Blain, his friend’s expression had turned sour.
‘Not one of thy visions, Rhun, please!’ he whined. ‘Saving us from being caught seducing the house staff when we were lads be one thing … but we art men now, this be war!’ he appealed.
‘Hey,’ Rhun challenged. ‘Wast I ever wrong?’
Blain thought hard to recall an instance. ‘Nay,’ he conceded finally and bowing his head a moment, he resolved to ask the burning question. ‘Alright.’ He raised his sights to hear Rhun out. ‘Tell me what thy vision foretold?’
Rhun raised both eyebrows. How should he phrase this? ‘It foretold of the division of the Goddess’ council.’
Blain rolled his eyes to imply Rhun was just a little paranoid in his new position.
‘It wast also prophesied that thy life depended on me preventing this division.’ Rhun regained Blain’s full attention with the claim.
‘My life?’ He stood, having just conceded that Rhun was never wrong in his truthsaying.
‘Aye,’ Rhun confirmed, with a deadly serious expression.
Blain approached Rhun, compelled by his own morbid curiosity. ‘Did the vision foretell how I would die?’
‘Murder.’ Rhun answered in a word.
‘And did thy vision disclose the identity of my slayer?’ Blain cocked an eye to question.
Rhun nodded his head slowly, heightening the suspense. ‘’Twas I.’
‘Thee!’ Blain backed up, the unexpected response throwing him into a momentary state of panic. ‘But why should thee want to kill me?’
‘I wast hoping thee might shed some light on that puzzle,’ Rhun explained calmly, holding wide his cloak, so that Blain could see he was unarmed.
His friend relaxed at
this point, but Blain’s initial response seemed to indicate that he might have just cause to fear the threat. Had Rhun put the same notion forward to Bryce, Rhun felt sure his old friend would have laughed in his face.
‘Goddess, I hate thy spooky moods.’ Blain began to laugh as he ventured to approach his friend once more. ‘I shall never give thee just cause to take my life,’ he announced sincerely. ‘And therefore thy concerns art a complete farce. It seems clear to me that thy vision wast nothing more than a nightmare.’
Rhun smiled as if reassured, even though he was not.
The prophecy was real. And as much as Rhun hated to admit it, Blain was hiding something from him that even a threat to his life was not incentive enough to expose. Was it just the knowledge of Bridei’s existence, or did the plot go deeper than that?
Blain saw the High King to his mount and waited to see him depart through the portcullis — Rhun’s guess was that he wanted to make certain he’d left.
Beyond the outer bailey gatehouse that led onto the main road through the village, Rhun turned his horse off the trail and headed around the stronghold.
Once he was well away from the main guard post, Rhun pulled his horse to a stop and looked about for voyeurs. In the night shadows cast by the huge walls of the fortress, he felt fairly sure he could teleport himself back to Gwynedd without risk of being seen. The King closed his eyes to think of home.
‘Majesty!’
Cai’s urgent call near startled the wits out of Rhun, who ceased his directive and looked about for his young friend.
‘Praise the Goddess, I caught thee,’ the young Druid puffed and panted as he delivered a scrolled parchment into his High King’s hands.
‘What on earth —’
‘Read it!’ Cai cut him short with an urgent whisper, then ran back into the shadows from whence he came. ‘Thy concerns art justified, Majesty. Please beware.’
Rhun was left speechless, thinking the short encounter bizarre. Cai was usually shy and reserved; this behaviour was completely out of character for him.
As Rhun could not hope to see the note in the prevailing darkness, he willed himself to the stables at Degannwy where he could dispense with his horse and read the mysterious missive.
23
Walls
When Cai returned to Urien’s assigned quarters at Arwystli, panting and trembling from the risk he’d just taken and the speed of his passage, Bryce was alone.
‘Did thee get it to him?’ Bryce blundered forth to mumble through his disguise at his brother.
Cai nodded to set his brother’s mind at rest. ‘Hast Urien gone to speak with Blain?’
‘Aye,’ Bryce confirmed, wary of the arrangement. ‘I am praying to the Goddess that he doth not betray us.’
‘Not Urien too!’ Cai had had trouble conceiving that Blain would betray the High King. ‘Surely there be no question of Gwent’s loyalty.’
‘There was,’ Bryce assured him. ‘I am just hoping the threat remains in the past.’
Cai appeared as if suddenly struck by a revelation. ‘Hast Blain taken Urien to the library?’
Bryce nodded. ‘Blain’s squire announced as much when he came to collect Urien, why?’
‘Then we art in luck.’ Cai walked up to a protruding section of the wall, which took the form of a large feature support. ‘I think the Goddess would forgive us if we were to rely on the truth rather than hope in this instance.’
You could have pushed Bryce over with a feather when Cai nudged the large floor to ceiling section of the wall and it slid aside to reveal a hidden passageway.
‘I never knew there were secret passages here at Arwystli!’ Bryce exclaimed as he wandered towards the opening. The Prince had lived in the stronghold for twenty years and had never even suspected.
‘Nobody knows, but me,’ Cai grinned. ‘When I made the discovery, I did all within my power to keep the secret … it was the only place I could get any peace from my three boisterous brothers.’
‘What doth thou mean, boisterous?’ Bryce bounded over to slap Cai about the head and shoulders in a playful manner before gripping his shoulder, thankful for his aid. ‘Lead the way,’ Bryce invited in a cheery voice.
‘I am not too sure I should,’ said Cai, holding his nose, ‘as I fear thy smell might give us away.’
‘Just lead.’ Bryce shoved him into the passage.
The letter from Bryce outlined the events that had unfolded in Dyfed since Rhun’s departure. It advised how Urien had been enlightened as to the existence of his kindred, which had in turn prompted a confession from him. Bryce explained that Riderich had no cause to fight the Bernician, Morcant, as he and his neighbour, Caten, had not broken the peace. Urien had also enlightened Bryce to Bridei’s existence, and claimed the war was purely to chastise those nations for siding with the true heir to Talorg’s throne in Alban.
This missive made the plot all the more perplexing for Rhun, as Bridei had sworn he had no dealings with Morcant or Caten. What if the heir apparent to the Pictish throne was the one planning a war. Then Riderich’s story to the council could all be the truth? Bridei’s sister, Kaileah, had done a fine job of seducing Selwyn into believing in their cause, so perhaps the Merlin could not see treachery as readily as he otherwise would have? On the other hand, Urien had confessed that Morcant and Caten had not been hostile towards the allied states — but that didn’t mean that they weren’t planning to be. In which case, Riderich might have fair justification for being a bit premature with his attack.
‘Dear Goddess!’ Rhun cried out in frustration. ‘I am at a loss to see the side of the righteous in this affair. Which side lies?’ Rhun queried out loud, having made it to the privacy and quiet of his chambers. ‘Perhaps both?’ He considered this likely. ‘So with whom do I side?’
His thoughts turned to what Taliesin had revealed of his own prophecy — that Blain was at the heart of the matter. Still, from what Rhun could tell at this point, his friend in Powys was the least of his problems, whether he was lying to him or not.
Rhun looked to the note in his hand. ‘Time to pay Bridei a surprise visit.’ Rhun closed his eyes and concentrated on his contemporary counterpart.
The High King found himself in a large tent that was warmed by an open fire situated under a central opening in the roof. The sound of several women giggling immediately drew his attention to a large bed. The many fur layers that comprised the sleeping arrangement appeared to be a hive of activity.
Rhun wasn’t quite sure on the protocol to use when interrupting a fellow ruler and past-life incarnation from an orgy. After all, he didn’t want to spoil this experience for himself or offend his new ally. Fortunately, he was put out of his dilemma when one of the occupants of the bed surfaced for air.
Tossing her fur covering backwards a beautiful dark-haired woman knelt completely naked before him. ‘My Lord?’ she queried, stunned by Rhun’s resemblance to her lover, but by no means embarrassed by her predicament. ‘Thou art not my Lord?’ She smiled, admiring the more sophisticated version of him, as she reached back to alert Bridei that he had company.
‘Who art thou talking to?’ Bridei stuck his head out the end of a large fur. The warrior rolled on his belly to see where his mistress was pointing. ‘Splendid,’ he announced warmly upon sighting Rhun. ‘Majesty, thou art just in time … come join us,’ Bridei invited, as three other females emerged from the fur bed to beckon him hither.
Rhun may have been here on the gravest of business, but be buggered if he could remember what it was, nor could he wipe the smile from his face. ‘Nay, I cannot.’ He captured a picture of his lovely wife in his mind and held it there as an incentive to behave himself. Ten years ago Rhun wouldn’t have hesitated to dive right in, but since marrying Bridgit, the idea of an extra-marital affair was just too much trouble. Rhun might have been good at twisting the truth, but lying to those he loved was something he never wished to do.
Bridei must have heard the slightly regretful strain in Rh
un’s voice. ‘Convince him ladies,’ the warrior urged, whereby all four of the naked women rose from their coverings and converged on Rhun.
‘Aw, please,’ he appealed, not meaning to feast his eyes, but it was kind of unavoidable. ‘I have a problem,’ he tried to reason with the women.
‘Aye, thou hast!’ Bridei laughed, as the women encircled the High King, caressing him with kisses and their bodies.
The bliss of the moment near consumed Rhun, but he savoured it for what it was to be — a non-event. ‘The fate of our entire island lays in the balance, and I am being lied at from all sides.’
As the object of their desire fixed his sights on Bridei, the women all ceased their activity and looked to their Lord.
‘Not from this side.’ Bridei threw back his covers and stood naked before Rhun to insist.
As the women around him all broke into laughter, so did Rhun have to smile; if Bridei’s sincerity was fake he was a masterful deceiver. The Pictish Prince seemed more likely to be planning a picnic than a battle. ‘Art thou going to wage war against Talorg?’ the High King asked him straight.
‘Eventually,’ he admitted, as if he had been a bit slack on that front.
‘Hast thou allied thyself to Morcant the Bernician, or Caten of Lothian in order to do this?’
‘Nay!’ he insisted, annoyed to be asked again. ‘I told thee, I do not know either king.’ Bridei motioned the women to go plant themselves by the fire.
‘Then why art four of the allied kingdoms declaring war on Morcant and Caten for allying themselves to thee?’ Rhun slapped the piece of paper he held into Bridei’s hand.
Bridei frowned and screwed up the document without bothering to read it. ‘Their support be news to me.’ Bridei looked Rhun square in the eye as he tossed the letter to the flame. ‘Perhaps I should go out of my way to get acquainted with these supposed allies of mine.’ The warlord seemed quite irate, as he finally took a moment to find his trousers. ‘Perhaps then we shall get to the bottom of all these lies about me!’