Prince of Time (Book Two in the After Cilmeri series)

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Prince of Time (Book Two in the After Cilmeri series) Page 19

by Sarah Woodbury


  It had to hurt, but Llywelyn lay still. When the pus no longer seeped, I took another deep breath, and poured more of the alcohol over the wound. I was screaming inside my head, my teeth gritted, but Llywelyn lay still with his eyes closed. He gripped David’s hand on one side, and held onto Lili with the other. David whispered to him constantly, and I could just hear his words, repeated over and over again: The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. . .

  Finally, I dried his torso and unscrewed the tube of antibiotic ointment. Upending it, I squeezed the tube and smeared the entire contents in and around the wound. I was glad Aunt Elisa had bought the kind that had a pain reliever built in, though I didn’t know how powerful it really was. Better than nothing. David lifted his father so I could wrap a clean cloth around and around his torso. By the time I was done, I was dripping with sweat and as David pressed the end of the bandage into place, I started to shake. Ieuan released Llywelyn’s legs, which he’d been holding still, and pulled me onto his lap. I buried my face in his shoulder.

  “Trial by fire, eh, lass,” he said, brushing my hair with his hand.

  “How long will it take for your mother to get here?” Lili asked David.

  “She’s at Dinas Bran, last I heard,” David said. “If the messenger has already left, he can be there in two days; it will take twice that for her to reach us. By then, hopefully, my father will be on the mend.”

  “Having you here has made him better already, my lord,” Lili said.

  “Having Bronwen here, you mean,” he said.

  I looked up and Lili met my eyes. She nodded.

  Maybe I have something to offer this world, after all.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  David

  Oh Lord, do I hurt. I sat beside my father as he lay in bed, trying not to think. But I have to; someone has to and Dad is lying here, asleep. I wished I could sleep. Even if I had the time, my catalogue of injuries might have prevented it. My face ached and I’d never felt such pain behind my eyes before. Broken nose: check; blackened eyes: check. I suspected I had a couple of broken ribs and even a bruised kidney as well. I needed to do something about those soon. When Ieuan had straightened my nose the evening before, I’d screamed and passed out. Oblivion sounded kind of nice.

  “We need to keep watch on the Prince, twenty-four hours a day,” I said.

  Ieuan looked up. “Yes, my lord,” he said. “And not alone either; two at a time.”

  Every muscle in my body screamed at me as I carefully stood up. “You and Bronwen stay here for now. Lili,” I said, turning to her, “will you come with me? I need your help again.”

  “Certainly, my lord,” she said.

  She came around the bed to help me hobble out of the room. I put a hand on her shoulder, trying not to drive her into the ground since my weight could have been twice hers. We managed to navigate the stairs without falling down them.

  “I didn’t really mean that I needed your help to walk, Lili, though I appear to,” I said. “I need you to help me enact a little drama in the great hall. Will you follow my lead and do what I ask without questioning?”

  “You don’t need to ask that, my lord,” she said. “Of course, I will.”

  “I know that, in theory,” I said. “But I’ve the sense that you have little patience with men and their machinations at court, and thought it would be better to ask.”

  We reached the bottom stair, and Lili turned to look up at me. “Yes,” she admitted, “in that you are correct. However, I think I’m willing to make an exception in your case.”

  “Oh,” I said. How about that? “Good. Well, once more into the breach, then, shall we?”

  Lili smiled, forgiving my reference to Shakespeare, whom she couldn’t know as he wouldn’t be born for nearly three hundred years. Once in the hall, I made a great show of limping and staggering to my father’s chair. I hadn’t planned to use it, but suddenly there it was, the perfect stage. I fell into it, grateful that it was well-cushioned.

  “My lord!” Carew sat at the high table with Goronwy, Tudur, and Gruffydd ap Gwenwynwyn. I raised my hand to them. Another twenty men, a few of them my own, were scattered throughout the room, some eating and drinking, others talking or playing chess. “The Prince?” Carew asked, rising to his feet.

  “He will be well,” I said.

  “Sir knight,” Lili said. “He needs bandages and warm water so that I may tend his wounds.”

  “Of course, of course.” It was Gruffydd who responded, signaling to a serving maid who hustled from the room.

  “Was that right?” Lili asked under her breath as she knelt beside the chair.

  “Perfect,” I said. “Now let’s get this jersey off me...slowly, slowly...ahh, it hurts!” I didn’t have to dramatize my pain as I struggled to free myself from the ragged piece of linen. Lili pulled the shirt over my head, revealing for the first time the mottled blue and purple bruises that covered my torso from breast to waist. I slumped in the chair.

  All four men were on their feet now, their expressions ranging from horror (Goronwy) to bemusement (Carew), whose eyes twinkled at me. He knew there was no reason for me to expose myself this way if I didn’t choose to.

  “Who did this?” Gruffydd asked. He was always the most likely to speak to me as the boy I was, without the formal designation of ‘my lord.’

  “I will tell you in a moment,” I said. “We’ve more important things to talk about first. Let me tell you what I’ve discovered, and then we can make decisions about what we must do next.”

  Gruffydd subsided, and I began to tick off the points one by one on my fingers. “One, King Edward of England intended to bring about my death in Lancaster. He cared not at all for convention or protocol in this, but revealed his unquenchable hatred for me and my father. Before he could accomplish his goal, however, he was poisoned by one of his servants, to which my men and Sir Carew were witness.

  “Two, Hereford arrived too late to witness Edward’s death, but is under the impression that I am dead as well, thanks to a forgotten surcoat in the pavilion where I met Edward. This, coupled with advance notice among some of Edward’s confidants that he intended to kill me at Lancaster, is the source of the rumor you may have heard that I was dead.”

  Carew nodded slowly. He too had forgotten the surcoat amidst everything else.

  “Three, Hereford has had time to make his own plans, none of which can be good for Wales. As of two days ago, Hereford had increased his patrols along the border. Whether under Hereford’s orders or for his own ends, Clifford’s men are right now besieging Sir Ieuan’s castle at Twyn y Garth.

  “And four, the castellan at Aberedw, Cadoc, who administered my injuries personally, is in Hereford’s pay.”

  Goronwy stood with his hands on his hips, his eyes narrowed. “You’ve learned all this first-hand?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “You’ve been busy,” Gruffydd said.

  “I’m the Prince of Wales,” I said. “It’s my job to know what’s happening in my domains.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Gruffydd said, giving me a slight bow, probably hoping I didn’t see the smirk that accompanied it.

  I went on, shifting forward so that Lili could begin wrapping the bandages around my ribs. “What we don’t know is: one, how soon Hereford arrived in Lancaster; two, where he’s gotten to in the intervening days; three, what Hereford intends to do with his men; and four, who among my father’s men has betrayed him to Hereford.”

  “My lord!” Goronwy, Tudur, and Gruffydd protested. I forestalled them again. “Cadoc named Tudur traitor,” I said.

  The hall fell silent, for I’d allowed my voice to carry to everyone in the room. Goronwy found his chair and sat heavily into it. Tudur himself stood, feet apart, his eyes blazing as he looked at me.

  “You believed him,” he said, not as a question.

  “I did,” I said. “At the time, anyway.”

  Tudur raised his hands and let them fall helplessly. “You
take the word of a man who did that to you?” he asked.

  “I have withheld judgment, Tudur, for that very reason.”

  “You have no proof, then,” he said. I let the silence lengthen, until he realized that was exactly the wrong thing to say.

  “Do I need it?” I asked.

  “I’m no traitor,” Tudur said, his voice soft. “Cadoc lies.”

  I nodded. “Possible. Perhaps, then, you should be the one to go to Aberedw and find out the truth. You would be clearing your own name, finding our traitor, and unseating my wayward castellan at the same time. Take the men you need, though I would hope that none of your men would find their way into England to get word to Hereford in the meantime.”

  Tudur stared at me as my gift to him sank in, and then bowed. “You have my word, my lord.”

  As he walked away, I called to his back. “When Cadoc beat me, he didn’t know who he had in his hands. He recognized Ieuan, but I called myself Dafydd ap Bran.”

  Tudur stopped in mid-stride and turned back. “Now that is interesting.” Just the way he said the words showed me the intelligence and humor in the man. “This is information I can use. Thank you, my lord,” he said, and bowed again.

  He left the hall. Carew sat in his chair, his chin in his hands. Goronwy had risen to watch Tudur leave and now stood, his arms folded across his chest, contemplating the space where Tudur had been. Gruffydd studied me.

  “Will he run?” Carew asked.

  Gruffydd shook his head. “You are more devious than I gave you credit, my prince,” he said. “You’ve forced him to choose.”

  By now, Lili had nearly finished doctoring my wounds. I sat very straight as she tugged on the strips of cloth she’d wrapped around my midsection. I was having trouble breathing, so I just nodded.

  “He will choose Wales,” Goronwy said. “I knew his father and have known Tudur his whole life. His defection, if there was one, was a temporary aberration.”

  “In my house, he would pay for it with his life,” Gruffydd grumbled.

  “He still may, Gruffydd,” Carew said, “but the prince goes about things a bit differently from you and me.”

  “True, true,” Gruffydd agreed. “Cadoc is dead, regardless.”

  Another dead man on my conscience. I decided this one, out of all of them, would weigh the least.

  * * * * *

  As Gruffydd had surmised, Tudur returned three days later. Lily and I were on duty, though Lili was out of sight, through the door behind me in my father’s room. I was sitting in his study, literally contemplating my navel whose color had bloomed a purple I’d never quite seen before, when Tudur walked in and dropped a dirty, woven bag on the desk in front of me.

  “Cadoc’s head,” he said. “He died during my interrogation of him regarding the traitor among your father’s men. He did not reveal a name.”

  I looked at the bag with distaste. “Set that in the corner by the door and pull up a chair, Tudur.”

  “Don’t you want to examine it?” he asked.

  “I’ll have Goronwy look at it when he wakes up,” I said. “I trust that you wouldn’t bring me the wrong head.”

  “Even if you don’t trust me in other matters,” Tudur said.

  “Even so,” I agreed. “I think you would’ve found a place for yourself in Edward’s Wales, if he’d lived to create it. I wonder that you chose so early, and so wrong, if in fact you did betray my father.”

  “I did not betray him.”

  “Then tell me what you did do,” I said.

  I didn’t know Tudur well. As a man, he was intimidating, not because he was tall or a great warrior, but because of the power he wielded. He also knew about Anna, my mom, and me, knew we were from the future, and his possession of that knowledge always made me feel at a disadvantage with him—like he’s just waiting to use that knowledge against us if he can.

  That was one of the reasons why my choice had been between executing him on the spot or giving him a chance to repent. I absolutely didn’t want to drive him into Hereford’s arms.

  “I rode to Aberedw with fifty men as you instructed,” Tudur said. “There, we entered the castle unhindered, subdued the garrison, and questioned Cadoc. Upon his death, I gave his men a choice: follow the Prince of Wales, or die. They chose to live. I left twenty of my men in possession of the castle and departed, retaining the thirty men who’d served under Cadoc. We then rode to Twyn y Garth. That is a perfectly positioned castle for reconnoitering the English, by the way.”

  I nodded. “What did you find there?”

  “I found the upstart Clifford lad, thinking to take the castle as a means to assuage his dignity at the loss of Bronllys. He had only forty men. What he was thinking, I don’t know.” Tudur shook his head. “Anyway, he lost half his men in the first three minutes, and the rest we sent packing. Twyn y Garth is yours again, my lord, or rather, Sir Ieuan’s.”

  “Thank you, Tudur. It relieves my mind considerably to have the Wye in our possession again.”

  “Am I back in royal favor now?” he asked, with a mocking smile.

  “Tell me what happened with my father,” I said. “His condition when I found him was unforgivable.”

  Tudur started up from his chair. “We did all that we could! We changed his sheets and bandages daily, with clean water as your mother would have demanded. Once we removed the arrow, we could do nothing but wait.”

  “A poultice perhaps, to draw the pus?”

  “We tried that three times before you came, but once the fever sets in, there’s little anyone can do,” he paused. “Except you...you have cured him, have you not, with your futuristic miracles?”

  We contemplated each other across the table. His expression wasn’t friendly, but it didn’t show hatred either, and I wondered if perhaps he feared my mother and me. Perhaps that was why he’d not sent for her, rather than an intent to betray.

  “Tudur,” I said. “Has my father or mother spoken to you of what you were in that other world? Who you became?”

  Tudur fixed his eyes on a point above my head. “No, my lord,” he said. “And I’ve not asked.”

  “I didn’t know myself until my mother told me,” I said. “In my old world, you make your peace with Edward after my father’s death. Consequently, you retain all your lands in Wales and your descendents ultimately found the House of Tudor, which counts among its members in the coming centuries some of the greatest kings and queens of England.”

  Tudur said nothing, but continued to stare at the wall behind me.

  “That is what Edward offered; what alliance with Hereford could offer,” I said. “What my father and I give you is merely our trust, our love, and the hope that Wales can survive those same centuries intact.”

  Tudur still didn’t look at me. “You speak of this as if it’s a Sisyphean task. Wales is stronger than you think.”

  “We are stronger when you are with us, Tudur, than against us,” I said.

  “I am with you, my lord,” he said.

  I nodded. “You may go, Tudur, and may God go with you.”

  He stood and bowed. “My lord,” he said, picking up the sack containing Cadoc’s head as he left the room. The door shut behind him. I closed my eyes. Tired. I forced myself to my feet and walked to the door that separated the office from my father’s room.

  I poked my head around the doorframe. Lili sat beside my father’s bed, his hand in hers. They both gazed at me, their eyes bright.

  “You heard?” I asked.

  “Yes,” my father said.

  I leaned against the frame, and studied them. “You can’t believe everything you hear,” I said, “especially while eavesdropping.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” said Lili.

  I entered the room and sat down on the bed next to Dad, opposite Lili. His face was gaunt, but he’d been awake since dawn and the fever had gone.

  “You told Tudur you are from the future,” Lili said. “Your father confirms it.”

  “A
future,” I said, “not our future.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I shrugged, giving in. “It means, Lili, that the choices we make today are still our own. What we do today, we do for the first time, and no matter what happened in the world in which I was born, it has no bearing on what happens in this world.”

  “Which is why you let Tudur go,” Dad said. “Whatever he did in that other world, he doesn’t have to do the same here.”

  “No,” I said. “And it appears he knows it too.”

  “I trusted him,” Dad said. “His father was like a brother to me—closer, in fact, than my own brothers, who routinely betrayed me.”

  “We all trusted him,” I said. “I still don’t know if that trust was misplaced. We may never know, provided he continues to work with us.”

  “You walk a narrow rope across a canyon, my lord,” Lili said. “Any misstep and you, and all of Wales, plunges to our death.”

  Dad patted Lili’s hand. “It’s not as bad as that,” he said.

  I wasn’t interested in exploring that topic any further. I’m so tired of that topic. “What happened when you got shot?” I asked.

  Dad sighed. “I needed the exercise and you know how important it is to mingle with one’s men, so I rode with a patrol. We hadn’t gone far, having stayed on the western side of the Wye, when an arrow flew from the woods and hit me in the ribs. That’s all there is to it.”

  “But you, Tudur, or Goronwy sent men to find the culprit,” I said.

  “Goronwy led the search personally, following the trajectory of the arrow. He found no one. If it was a lone man, however, he could’ve easily slipped through our fingers and been a mile away within a few minutes of shooting me. The Welsh have used ‘guerilla warfare’ as you called it once, to great effect for a thousand years. It’s impossible to guard against a lone assassin.”

 

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