by Troy A Hill
“So the only shifters in Briton are Ruadh’s family of bears?” I asked.
“That I am aware of,” Gwen cautioned. “Even with our connection to The Lady, there is much we may not know of.”
“Should I head to Mercia,” Seren asked, “I could bring Ruadh to hunt for the rogue shifter.”
“No. If Penda’s men are going to be searching,” I sent, “I don’t want our friend being mistaken for the other shifter. How are Enid and the babies doing?”
“Well enough,” Seren sent. “My brother is having some sleepless nights. He’s worried about them and wakes every time they do. Silly man can’t do anything to feed them, but he gets up anyway.”
“Then perhaps you can stay there,” I suggested. “If Penda has need of Ruadh’s skills, I’ll let you know. I don’t want to share his secret unless we have to.”
I glanced at Penda as we walked side by side. He hadn’t offered me his arm again. He still held Baldwin’s blade in hand. I carried the Sword of Light. And I had no scabbard to sheathe it.
“What am I supposed to do with this sword?” I sent to Gwen. “And how did it appear right where I’d need it?”
“The Lady would be able to answer the latter question better than I can,” Gwen sent. “I suspect she knew her champion was without a blade and in dire need of one.”
I sighed across our link. “I am her champion, aren’t I?”
21
A Need
Ludló ran ahead to jerk the door to the keep open for Penda. He glanced down at my blade as I passed him. His eyes were wide, but he kept his face expressionless. Perhaps Arthur’s sword had more of a reputation than I realized.
“Lady Mair needs a sheath for that blade,” Penda said. “Return her other blade as well.”
“I’ll see to it straight away, Your Grace,” he said and shut the door behind us.
The floor here in the entryway was flagstone, with a short flight of stairs leading up to the broad planks of the wooden hallway. Off to the side was the storeroom where he had stored my blade earlier.
“Is that Arthur’s sword?” Penda asked. “May I see it?”
I held it out towards him. He raised his hands, then shook his head.
“Perhaps you had best hold it,” the Mercian king said. “I remember the bard’s tales of what happened to Arthur. I have no desire to be King of all Britannia like him.”
“We don’t have an extra scabbard to fit a blade that long here,” Ludló said when he returned, waving towards the Sword of Light. Penda was peering at the gem. My little friend the red dragon was swimming through the mists, staring at the king. I swear the little serpent looked back over his shoulder at me and winked before he began his undulations again.
“Curious,” Penda said. His hand was close to the gem, finger extended. He touched it and jerked back as if he expected the dragon to bite.
“I’m not sure we should store that blade here,” Ludló said. His eyes wouldn’t leave the sword. “The Roman priests will want to get their hands on it,” he explained.
“Damn, I forgot about them,” I said and flipped the blade, point down, on a flagstone. I had an idea, but I didn’t want an audience while I tested it. The little dragon, however, looked at me and nodded. I pushed down.
The stone underneath the sword was like butter, and the sword sank into the rock. A thin white glow pulsed where the blade and stone met. Ludló gasped. I glanced at Penda and tried to pretend I knew what I was doing. This surprised even me. Even though I had twice pulled the sword from the ground, I hadn’t expected to push a metal blade through a solid piece of stone.
I paused with the sword about halfway in. It would be easier to push if I knelt.
“Won’t someone be able to dig it up?” Penda asked.
“Give it a pull,” I suggested and took my hands off it.
He shook his head.
“May I, Your Grace?” Ludló asked. “This may be the only time I may touch this blade.”
Penda gave a nod. He stood back and grinned as his captain put a foot on either side of the weapon, then wrapped both hands around the hilt. He strained and pulled. I could see my little red friend in the gem. He seemed entertained as Ludló strained. The sword refused to budge.
The guard captain shook his head and stepped back.
I placed my hand on top of the pommel gem and pushed until the entire sword had been swallowed by the flagstone. Not a mark, not a ripple showed where the sword had just been.
“What’s keeping someone from digging up the stone?” the guard captain asked.
Penda cleared his throat. “I wasn’t going to tell anyone where Lady Mair put the blade. Were you?”
“No, Your Grace,” he said.
“Good. I’d prefer not to have everyone digging around this entryway.”
“The sword is back with my goddess,” I said.
Penda looked at me. “You’re sure the sword isn’t under the stone?”
“Yes, it is with The Lady,” Gwen sent. I had forgotten that I had left my connection open.
“My goddess isn’t careless enough to leave a sword like that under your flagstones,” I said, tucking Soul’s scabbard through my Celtic sash. The blade on my hip completed me, and I felt whole again.
Penda flagged down a lone servant from down the hallway.
“Send word to Lord Penllyn to meet in my study tonight at his earliest convenience,” Penda. “Also, request Lord Lazlow and Lord Chamberlain attend as well. And send for our former battle leader, Brother Mihangel. We should probably have someone from one of the churches there. His presence may be enough to keep those fools of Paeda’s away from us.”
The servant scurried away, and Penda offered me his arm. He passed Baldwin’s blood-covered blade to Ludló. “Baldwin’s blade,” he said. “Did he have a son?”
“No, Your Grace,” the captain said. “We will clean it for his cremation.”
“You’re not sending the blade into the afterlife with him, are you?”
“No, another warrior will get it,” Ludló said. “From what you told me on the walk back, Baldwin died with honour, and he is dining in Woden’s hall tonight.”
“Any word yet?” Penda asked Lord Chamberlain. The spymaster was the last of Penda’s advisors to arrive.
“Of the creature that attacked you?” He shook his head. “Ludló’s men are still working cottage to cottage and searching. So far, nothing. Only a few people reported hearing anything strange. No one opened a door to investigate the sounds.”
Bleddyn sat next to me, his fingers steepled as he often did when he pondered issues. He sat near the central hearth, a raised fire ring in the centre of the room. Smoke drifted up towards the smoke hole in the roof overhead. Penda sat to the other side of the hearth, and our chairs stood in a semi-circle. Penda anchored one end, and Bleddyn the other, across from the Mercian king.
“I’ve never heard of these shifters outside of old gran tales,” Mihangel said. He glanced my way. “If Lady Mair says she fought one before, and Your Grace”—he nodded at Penda—“says that he saw one tonight, then I believe they are real.”
“When my cousin finishes the sweep of the town,” another man said, “we need to be ready to plan what to do if it’s not found.” Like all Saxon men, he wore a dark beard. He was tall, like Penda and Bleddyn, but stout. Barrel chested with thick arms and legs.
“Lord Lazlow,” Bleddyn said, “if this creature is anything like the one that almost killed me, you’ll search and not find it.”
“How do we find it, then?” the man asked. “I can’t plan a battle if I don’t know where to fight, or when.”
“That’s the part of the job I always hated,” Mihangel said. He sat next to me and rotated his cup between his hands.
Bleddyn glanced at me. Before I could respond, Lord Chamberlain leaned forward.
“I heard a most interesting tale about your battles in Penllyn, milord,” he said, then he turned and grinned at me. “Lady Mair went outside
of protocol and made my agent most uncomfortable with the telling.”
“You’ll be sharing those tales, correct?” Lazlow asked. He leaned forward, towards the spymaster.
“Lady Mair and Lord Penllyn can tell their own tales, Lazlow,” Chamberlain said with a slight grin.
Bleddyn stayed quiet. I assumed he was wondering what I had volunteered. My secrets were wound too tightly into the stories of the shifter and the Witch Hunters. Bleddyn was smart, and he would be cautious with any information he doled out in this meeting.
I looked at Penda, then darted my gaze to Lazlow and back. Penda gave me a small nod. I hoped that meant I could trust Lazlow with the same information I had shared with Thea.
“The shifter we fought was tied into the Witch Hunter’s guild,” I said. “The two leaders of the guild were both wizards. One of them controlled the shifter.”
“The same one that attacked tonight?” Lazlow asked.
“No, this shifter is not the same one. Do you remember Seeker Bechard and the old man he had with him?”
“And several guards, including a blond Norseman,” Lazlow said.
“The Norseman was a shifter, a bear,” I said. “He found Bleddyn in a cave and attacked. We lost Rhys. Bleddyn almost died from the wounds.”
“Ah,” Chamberlain said. “That explains the reports of the bear attack from last year. I hadn’t pieced that part together until I heard from my agent tonight.”
“So a person who becomes a bear… or a wolf?” Lazlow asked.
“Only one,” I said. “The animal shape depends on what caused the curse that makes the person into a shifter.”
“So this shifter isn’t related to the other one?” Lazlow asked.
“I don’t see how,” I said. “If Lecerf’s pet shifter injured someone and passed on the curse, they’d be a bear, like him, not a wolf like the one tonight.”
“The old tales say they have to shift when the moon is full. Is that true?” Penda asked. “Tonight would have been the first of the full moon nights.”
“Yes, they’re tied to the moon,” I said. “They can shift anytime they want, however. And the transformation doesn’t need to be total. That’s what we saw tonight. Someone in between their human and their full animal form.”
The door to Penda’s study opened with a thud.
“Father,” Paeda exclaimed. All of us in the room stood for the Anglian king’s entry, except for Penda. “I heard of the attack. Are you injured?”
“I am fine,” Penda said and waved us all back into our chairs. He looked at the two men who had followed Paeda into the room. The priest from Ruadh’s homeland was the last one in. He eased the door closed behind their party.
Bleddyn set his cup on the small table between us, then laid his hand on my forearm. Comforting. It wasn’t enough.
“The Lord favours you to have escaped unharmed,” the Witch Hunter said. His eyes scanned the room and seemed to stop on me for a second, then slid off. “Such ferocious beasts are best dealt with by my guild. I should send word to Canterbury and ask for a score of our guild members to come aid in the hunt.”
My stomach flipped, and my leg twitched with an urge to stand. To run. Witch Hunters. I didn’t need them anywhere close.
22
Silver Tongues
Bleddyn kept a warning hand on my forearm, his grip tight. He must have known where my thoughts were heading. If I ran a sword through this guilder, he wouldn’t be able to send that request for reinforcements.
“Perhaps we can discuss your guild later, good priest,” Lord Chamberlain said. “His Grace will have to learn much about the activities of your men before he can make such a decision.”
“I’ve already requested their presence in Middle Anglia,” Paeda said.
“Your kingdom is your prerogative, my son,” Penda said, his tone flat. “We are still investigating tonight’s event. Ludló has his men searching even now.”
“This beast, Your Grace,” the Witch Hunter priest said, “can you describe it?”
“Wolf-like,” Penda said. “Large.”
Smart man. He was being coy.
“We heard that it shifted from man to beast,” Paeda interjected. “Is this true?”
The Witch Hunter nodded. “Our men carry weapons made of a metal that can harm such creatures, whereas your blades cannot harm it.”
“Father Adda speaks wisdom,” Paeda declared.
“Perhaps we can speak of these additional men later, good father,” Lord Chamberlain interjected, his voice smooth, calming.
“If the creature is indeed one of those cursed with the shifting disease, you’ll need our help,” Father Adda insisted.
“Funny,” Penda said, his eyes sliding towards me then darting back up to his son and the Witch Hunter, “we didn’t have a problem driving it off tonight.”
“Father Adda has been telling me of all manner of beasts and creatures cursed by the Lord, and how his guild can free their souls to be at peace,” Paeda said. “I had hoped we could have this discussion in private tomorrow, Father.” His eyes darted around the room. They stopped on me for a second, then dropped to Soul in her scabbard on my belt.
“Evidently,” Penda said, his voice even, but a chill in his tone, “Oswiu had more of an impact on you than I imagined possible. Or was it the sight of his daughter?”
“Lady Alchflaed and I shall wed in a fortnight,” Paeda said. “Just as you requested. I was fortunate to learn the true way, the true faith, while I was there. Father Adda, along with Father Diuma”—he tilted his head to the Northlander priest standing by the door, still quiet—“and Fathers Cedd and Betti will help me share the news with the people of Middle Anglia. There will be baptisms in the new faith across the kingdom by the end of summer.”
“We shall discuss this in the morning,” Penda said. His lips were tight.
Paeda must have read his father’s mood. His cheeks went scarlet. He was smart enough to nod his head in a bow.
“With your leave, then, Father, we shall meet in the morning.”
Penda nodded once. His son spun on his heel. Diuma, the Northlander priest, eased the door open in time for Paeda to stride through. Father Adda turned. Before leaving, however, he realised he was in the presence of a high king. He nodded a short bow towards Penda. Only Diuma gave a proper bow to the Mercian king before he, too, exited.
“Weapons of special metals?” Penda asked, his eyes sliding between me and Bleddyn. “What have you not told me, my friends?”
Bleddyn let out a slow breath. Before he could respond, I decided I’d better be the one to lead this part of the conversation.
“Silver, Your Grace,” I said. “As we discussed in the yard.”
Lazlow scoffed. “That metal won’t hold an edge, it’s too soft. You can’t make an alloy with it, at least not with iron.”
“Actually, the Witch Hunters can,” I said.
“How?” Penda asked. “What Lazlow said is true. Silver can’t alloy with iron.”
“Magic.” I shrugged. “The Seeker and his toady, that Lecerf with the staff, were both wizards. At the abbey, we had to fight through illusions as well as their armies.”
“Please, milady,” Lazlow said. “Threats of magic is what the priests of any religion use to scare the people into believing.”
“No, my friend,” Penda said. “If you had seen the creature, and how it killed Baldwin tonight, you’d heed Lady Mair’s words.”
“When Emlyn got close to the guild’s Seeker,” I said, giving Lazlow my best I’m a nice girl and wouldn’t lie smile, “the Seeker cast a spell that duplicated himself half a dozen times. Emlyn had to slice four of the magic copies before his swords found real flesh and blood.”
“Tricks to scare the populace,” Lazlow declared, stopping just short of calling me a liar.
I felt Gwen chuckle in my mind. Leaving my connection open to her and Seren was the fastest way to share information about tonight with them. They could see what I saw and
hear what I heard.
“I believe Lady Mair after what I saw tonight,” Penda added. He avoided mentioning Arthur’s sword and how I had pulled it from the ground.
“Wolves that turn into humans, people duplicating themselves.” Lazlow scoffed again, then stood and paced the length of the room. “We need to find the beast and slide good Mercian steel into it.”
“That won’t do more than enrage it,” I said.
“I’ll believe in your magic when I see it, milady,” he said. He reached the end of his path next to me, spun on his heel, and turned towards the other end of the chamber.
I sighed.
“Go ahead, dearest,” Gwen’s voice came into my mind. “He’s Penda’s top advisor next to Lord Chamberlain. We need him to understand what he’s facing before his stubborn nature gets too many of Penda’s people killed.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Penda has witnessed me summon healing magic before, many years ago,” Gwen added. “Even Lord Chamberlain was there to see it. Lazlow is the only one not aware. He needs evidence to accept facts.”
Once Lazlow spun again at the far end of his pacing, I held up a hand to stop him. I opened my hand and willed a ball of light into it. I used the trick Iolo had showed me and shifted its colour to a reddish-gold. Bleddyn gave one of his whistles of surprise. Penda had an eyebrow cocked at me. Lazlow was shaking his head.
“A trick,” he said.
Only Lord Chamberlain seemed stoic in the face of my little miracle. “I’ve only seen one other person conjure such a light,” Lord Chamberlain said. “You have the same connection to Lady Gwen’s goddess?”
I smiled sweetly at him and gave a nod. Lazlow’s eyes were still on me. I made a show of blowing onto the ball of light like I might blow seeds from a dandelion, and the ball drifted to the doubting lord and hovered just in front of his nose. He stepped sideways, and the ball followed. It hovered right in front of his face.