Rise of the Pendragon (Islands in the Mist Book 3) Page 17

  “I doubt that. Relax, child.” Islwyn smiled. “You’ve had a long journey today. Get some rest. We’ll decide what to do tomorrow.”

  “Yes, it’s getting late,” her mother remarked, standing up. She wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders and lit her lantern. Arhianna followed her outside and clutched her in a farewell embrace. “I’ve been a fool, Mother—“

  Her mother stood back and took her by the shoulders, looking her in the eye. “We can take care of ourselves and so can Maes Gwythno. Haven’t we proven that by now? Besides, we have powerful allies. Your father has sworn his allegiance to Emrys, who commands the largest army in the west, now—one that continues to grow with every moon. He will crush Hengist’s blood-thirsty dogs. I’ve seen it. And I’m not the only one who has.”

  “Yes, but—“ Arhianna found she could not bring herself to say it—but my husband is one of those dogs.

  “But what?”

  Arhianna shook her head and forced a half-smile. “Nothing.”

  “We’ll send someone to find Neirin. Instead of searching for you, he can put his efforts toward finding out about this price on your head.”

  Arhianna nodded, feeling a bit better, but not much.

  “Get some sleep. I’ll be back in the morning.”

  Arhianna kissed her farewell, and then watched the light of her lantern float through the trees until the darkness of the wood swallowed it up.

  ***

  Though her limbs were sore and heavy, Arhianna could not sleep. Thoughts assailed her like a merciless swarm of insects, stinging her mind. I shouldn’t have come here…but where else could I go? And where’s Jørren? Does he know I’m being hunted? Could the old woman have meant him? No, no no…he wouldn’t do that! He loves me. I know he still loves me, even if he said I was dead to him. Ugh. Dead to him. How could he say such a thing? Still, he wouldn’t harm me. Capture me and bring me back? Yes. That he might do. She stared up at the few, faint stars she could see through the smokehole in the roof, considering what Taliesin had implied earlier. If someone has told Hengist about my Firebrand, he may have demanded Jørren find me and bring me back. Or, sent someone himself. She thought again of the scarred, stone faces that served him. Someone who won’t take no for an answer.

  Fearing she might wake Islwyn with her tossing and turning, she crept outside with her blanket and nestled in against the Oak, not far from where Taliesin slept. She smiled. At least that hasn’t changed. Unless it were snowing or pouring rain, she had never known him to sleep anywhere except beneath the stars. She watched him a long while, studying every contour of his face, until she felt she knew him again. His deep, calm breathing eventually lulled her restless mind, allowing sleep to come.

  ***

  Arhianna felt the sun reaching down through the canopy to caress her eyelids. She opened her eyes to find Taliesin was gone. The forest was silent, as if it had been wrapped in a heavy cloak. No sounds came from within the hut, and no breeze rustled the treetops. All she could hear was the faint trickle of the brook flowing beside the grove and the birds waking overhead. She welcomed the solitude and turned her face up toward the limbs of the Oak. Great Mother, is this where I’m meant to be?

  The crunching of leaves underfoot distracted her. Startled, she flipped her head to see her mother had returned. “Amlawth and his men left at dawn. Let’s get you home and decide what to do next.”

  Arhianna scrambled to her feet. “I just need my pack.” She went back into the hut to find Islwyn squatting by the fire, crushing herbs for his morning tea. “You’re off to the village, then?”

  “Yes,” she smiled. “Would you tell Taliesin I’d like to see him tonight?”

  Islwyn looked up and nodded. “I will.”

  “Thank you.” Arhianna slung her pack over her shoulder and left him to his work.

  Her mother led the way through the trees. “Your father is so anxious to see you.”

  “I’m eager to see him, too.”

  She would never forget the desperate look her father had given her before leaving Jørren’s hall. From that moment on, whenever something happened that made her doubt the decision she had made to stay behind, his face would appear in her mind’s eye. It was his look that haunted her—not her mother’s. Disappointing her mother was something she had done since childhood. She was used to her disapproval. Disappointing her father, on the other hand, was one of the hardest things she had ever done.

  Her mother did not say much as they moved through the tangled woods, perhaps concentrating on the important business of keeping them on the right path. Arhianna felt grateful for the silence. It allowed her to ponder what she had learned in the past day. She considered every possible reason for Jørren’s visit as well as all the consequences that might have resulted from her recent choices. One by one, she took them into her mind, turning them over and handling them as if they were stones found upon the seashore. By the time they reached the village, she had examined them all and tucked them away. She took a deep breath and let it out, eager to share her thoughts with her father. He’ll know what to do—he always does.

  They walked through the gates to find a crowd had gathered inside the walls. Arhianna could scarcely stand upright within the sea of hugs that surrounded her as she entered.

  “Arhianna!” a woman cried. She looked up to see Buddug’s grinning face coming at her. Buddug pushed her way through the crowd and soon had her gripped in a tight embrace. She felt as if she might smother to death in her bosom. Just as she was on the verge of crying out, Buddug let go and cupped her face in her hands. “Oh, bless this day,” she exclaimed, beaming. “We’ve spent the morning preparing a feast. Who would have thought we’d have both you and Taliesin home so soon? Or at all! It’s near too good to be true!” She kissed Arhianna on both cheeks and her forehead before she let her go.

  “Thank you, Buddug. I’m happy to be home.” Arhianna felt compelled to escape, glancing over Buddug’s shoulder and scanning the crowd for her father or brother. “Excuse me, please…I must speak with my father.”

  “Oh, of course, of course. Come, child.” Buddug pushed a path through the crowd again, but, this time, she dragged Arhianna and Lucia with her.

  Arhianna spied her father standing outside the motherhouse and ran to him, leaving Buddug and her mother behind. “Father!”

  He turned. The moment their eyes met, his face lit up with a smile so bright it looked as if the sun had chosen to shine on it alone. He grabbed her up in his arms. Her feet swung up off the ground, just as they had when she was a girl. She hung around his neck, heavy and limp, relaxing in his iron arms as he held her. “Ohhh, gods, how I’ve missed you, cariad.” He put her down, kissed her forehead and took her by the hand.

  She noticed he had winced when he had set her down. “Father, are you injured?”

  He shook his head. “Just my heart. Come, we’ve much to talk about.”

  ***

  Irwyn, Maur, Gareth, Seren, Eirwen and her mother were waiting for them in the motherhouse.

  “There she is!” Maur growled, lumbering over with open arms. “Our prize beauty, come back to us!” She laughed as Maur smothered her in a bear hug. “King of the silver-tongued, you are,” she managed to say from within the muffling confines of his fur pelts.

  Maur released her and stepped aside. Eirwen was standing behind him. “Welcome home, Arhianna.” She gave her a pleasant smile and a graceful nod. “We’ve all been worried about you.”

  “Thank you, Lady Eirwen.”

  Her father ushered her toward the fire where the others were gathered and motioned to a servant. “Fetch some mead, please.”

  Maur nudged her with his elbow. “I bet you’ve a fierce grumble in your belly, after being on the road and then sleepin’ with the druids last night, eh? They eat no more than a couple o’ sparrows.”

  Arhianna’s stomach leapt at the mention of food. Maur was right. Neither Islwyn nor Taliesin ate much. All they had to offer her were nuts, b
erries and tea. “I am.”

  “Good. Buddug’s been orderin’ the women around since last night, when she learned you’d come home. We’ll be feastin’ soon enough.”

  Her father took his place, and everyone sat down. She felt a bit shocked by the sight of him looking down at her from the dais. He had aged a bit, and, in the flickering firelight, there were moments when she would have sworn she was looking at Hraban. She shuddered.

  “So, daughter. Where shall we begin?”

  She thought it best to deal with the business at hand. “With Amlawth, I think. Tell me everything he said and did when he arrived. And anything you can remember about his men.”

  “Very well. Amlawth sent one of his men with a message saying he had bought one of our clan’s swords in Calleva and wished to speak with me about an arms commission for Emrys. He said nothing about you passing the winter with his family until he arrived.”

  “How many men did he have with him?”

  “Twelve, his son among them.”

  “Cynwal.” Arhianna felt a wave of remorse and nodded absently, remembering their last encounter.

  Her father nodded. “Of all of them, he seemed the most concerned about you. The moment I said you weren’t here, he volunteered to lead a search party to find you.”

  Arhianna wanted desperately to believe Cynwal’s enthusiasm to find her had sprung from nothing but genuine concern, but dared not risk such a heart-based assumption. It was possible he had an ulterior motive. This was something she could not afford to ignore.

  “I convinced him to stay and sent Neirin instead. I knew that if you were anywhere within a day of here, he would find you.”

  Arhianna felt a pang of disappointment that her father had not led the search himself. Neirin’s certainly the more skilled tracker, I admit, but why didn’t he go with him?

  “This morning I sent Idris to find him and let him know you’re home safe, but to keep that information to himself. Irwyn and your mother told me you think you’re in some kind of danger?”

  “I believe I may be, yes. It’s possible I’m being hunted for my Firebrand. If Hengist knows about it…”

  “I see.” He furrowed his brow and nodded. “Having such power is both a blessing and a curse. I’m sure you’ve felt it to be both by now.”

  She let out a shocked laugh. “No, not really. I never considered it a curse until now—now that it might bring trouble to my people.”

  “We’ve dealt with such trouble for as long as our clan’s been blessed with the Firebrand,” her father said, waving his hand dismissively. “This is nothing new. It’s why the blessed women in our clan have Protectors.”

  “Still. I’ve never felt it was a curse.”

  “Good. That would be unfortunate. Think hard about who this enemy might be. In the meantime, I’ve asked Neirin and Idris to press on rather than return home. They’ll make discreet inquiries about you with our allies in the surrounding lands. If there’s a price on your head, they’ll find out for how much and who’s put it there.”

  Arhianna nodded and forced a smile. She looked over at Irwyn. “Master Irwyn, I’ve been up all night worrying about the lie I asked you to tell Amlawth.”

  “Why is that?”

  Arhianna shook her head, feeling like a fool. “If the man who is after me is indeed one of Hengist’s assassins, I could be sending death and destruction to Caer Gwythno. I couldn’t live with myself if even one of Lord Elffin’s people died because of me—“

  Irwyn shook his head. “No, my lady. Your plan is sound. We must beat the ground if we are to drive the snakes out. This is as good a plan as any.”

  “Why not take him—or her,” Bran shot Arhianna a look that asked her to explore that possibility, “on a fox chase? Let them sniff things out in Gwythno. If strangers come asking about Arhianna, it can honestly be said she returned home.” He turned to Arhianna. “You were in Gwythno, weren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “So people must have seen you there?”

  “I tried to keep my presence there as quiet as possible.” She did not like the idea of Hengist’s dogs in Mynyth Aur any more than she did picturing them in Gwythno. She changed the subject. “Is there anything else you can remember about Amlawth’s visit, Father?”

  “Well, we struck a good deal—a very good one for Amlawth, I’d say. He’s a shrewd negotiator. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought he was a caravan trader. I agreed, however, because he promised every sword would find its way into the hands of our new king’s soldiers. His defeat of Vortigern has encouraged us all.”

  “What?” Arhianna felt shocked. “Vortigern has fallen?”

  “Yes, we’ve only just heard the news. Emrys has seized Vortigern’s fortress, right here in Gwyneth, and taken it for his own. Emrys will be ever-near, and we will be ready to fight for him.” He glanced over at her mother and brother. “We were making plans to travel there and pledge him our fealty when Amlawth arrived.”

  Arhianna’s thoughts swarmed around this new information like ants on a crumb of cake. “Vortigern’s defeat is good for us, but it won’t slow Hengist down. On the contrary, it will likely encourage him.”

  “It may,” her father conceded, “but the defeat of an enemy as wicked as Vortigern is something to rejoice over, regardless of what evil spawns from it. Now, we have a good and honest commander here in the West to lead us against Hengist, rather than a foolish wretch.”

  “And we’re to forge the swords for his army, then.” She glanced over at her brother. “You’ll be spending day and night at the forge. Not that you wouldn’t already.”

  Gareth smiled. “Yes. But I have Brokkr and Laust, and we’ve several apprentices.”

  Ah, yes. Brokkr and his children. She felt ashamed to admit she had forgotten they had sailed with her people when they left. “Are they happy here?” Perhaps, if they are, I can send Brokkr to speak to Jørren—convince him to bring the clan here. If Hengist should fall, he would be free to do as he wishes.

  “It was a bit rough in the beginning, but everyone accepts them as clan, now.”

  “Good work counts for much,” Arhianna pointed out, glancing at her father. “And what about Inga?”

  “She can speak our tongue nearly as well as you or I. Mother’s seen to that. She’s practically adopted her.”

  “I do love her.” Her mother smiled in a way that caused Arhianna a pang of jealousy. “She’s very sweet, and very bright—she reminds me of you, Arhianna.”

  “Except she’s quieter and has more patience,” Gareth pointed out with a chuckle.

  Arhianna scowled and punched him in the arm.

  “Oh, so good to have you back, sister!” he grabbed her and squeezed her close.

  Her father interrupted their horseplay. “So, then. The message that Arhianna is in Gwythno will brew within Amlawth’s ranks and hopefully flush out her pursuer. If that doesn’t work, I’m confident Neirin and Idris will have something to tell us when they return. Now, the smell of that boar meat has my mouth watering. Let’s get ready for the feast.”

  No one had any objections to that.

  ***

  Arhianna languished in the bathhouse for as long as the water remained hot, her muscles relaxing and her mind unwinding. When the water grew cool, she got out, dressed, and sat next to the fire to oil her hair so she could comb it through. She heard the latch on the door lift and turned to see her mother enter. “Are you almost ready?”

  “Just about,” Arhianna replied, yanking the comb through her snarled curls.

  Her mother smiled and came to take the comb. “Bit of help?”

  Arhianna was fully capable of combing her own hair, but sentiment won out. “Yes, please.”

  Her mother sat down behind her and began working on her hair, from the ends toward her scalp, patiently untangling her locks. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. Remember how you used to run from me?”

  Arhianna laughed. “Yes. I hated sitting still."<
br />
  Her mother smoothed her hair down and then started braiding it for her. “Fishbones, basketweave or chains?”

  “Hmmmm. Fishbones.”

  Her mother’s fingers moved through her hair, weaving it with the deftness of a spider. Her work was always perfect and precise, leaving no hair out of place. “There.” She squeezed Arhianna’s shoulders. “Done. And very beautiful, if I might say so.”

  “I have no doubt. No one can weave like you. I still don’t understand how you manage to do it to yourself.”

  “Years of practice, like everything else. Come, everyone’s waiting.” Her mother stood up and offered her a hand. They left the bathhouse to find the village nearly deserted and twilight upon them.

  Arhianna gazed up at Mynyth Aur and felt a wave of happiness. She had always thought of the mountain as a stone matron watching over their village and keeping them safe. She loved feasting in the Great Hall. It was something the clan only did on special occasions. Her childhood memories of celebrations in the Great Hall were some of her favorites.

  She and her mother walked arm-in-arm up the path to Mynyth Aur, Arhianna awash in nostalgia.

  ***

  Taliesin was the first one to greet them. Again, Arhianna felt shocked by his appearance. Will I ever get used to it? She took his hands in hers and squeezed them. “Will you play for me—I mean, for us—tonight?”

  He smiled. “I’ll play for you, tonight, and the others may listen.” He kissed her cheek and hands, and went to speak to someone who had summoned him.

  “Mother,” Arhianna whispered after he turned, feeling light-headed. “Is there mead?”