‘Oh that!’ Maelgwn shrugged. ‘I cannot imagine.’
His smile was far too mischievous for Tory to believe him. Still, when even physical torture failed to prompt him into disclosing what he knew, she gave up, figuring she’d find out soon enough.
They spent a few hours running through the use of each piece of equipment. Afterwards, when they retired to their room to bathe and dress for dinner, they each found a change of clothes laid out on the bed.
Tory was not surprised to see that Taliesin had chosen a dress for her to wear and, funnily enough, she liked it very much. Made of a white shimmery fabric, the garment hugged the body in the torso and was cut very low to the cleavage, akin to the more romantic and revealing attire of the seventeenth-century ladies. It was v-waisted, as suited her figure, and fell to the ground in wisps of fabric, which parted when she walked to reveal her bare legs. The shoes, of the same fabric, were like ballet slippers.
‘I could never get around wearing this in thy court, Maelgwn.’ Although Tory was positive she’d never seen the garment before, she was just as sure she recognised it.
‘If Taliesin was not such an old man, thee would not be wearing it here either.’ Maelgwn admired her a moment. ‘So, art thou ready?’
‘Aye …’ Tory was forced to grin, turning to face him. ‘What art thou up to, my lover?’
‘Thee shall see.’ He took her hands to lead her out the door.
‘Nay, we should not. Taliesin warned me about wandering off in this place.’
‘Believe me.’ His smile did not waver. ‘I know where I am taking thee.’
Maelgwn led her out into the hallway, and upon reaching the end they entered a maze of stairs, doorways, archways and open chambers that could have been designed by Escher himself.
She leant over a banister to admire the grand feat of illusion created by the stairwell. It seemed to twist for miles below her and, although it was difficult to tell, Maelgwn seemed to be leading them downwards. The King amused her with stories of his childhood adventures within the labyrinth as he confidently guided her through the maze. Finally, they entered one of the many long hallways that extended off from the central area of the house. When they reached the door at the very end of the corridor, Maelgwn turned to her.
‘Close thy eyes.’
Tory did so gladly, eager to learn what was amusing him so. As soon as the door was opened she knew they had stepped outside, as the sounds of little creatures met her ears and the fresh, scented air filled her nostrils.
‘Now.’ Maelgwn gave her leave to open her eyes.
Tory beheld a woodland garden that was so beautiful it took her breath away. The life force emanating from it was overwhelming — it was purer than anything she had encountered before. She sensed that they were being watched, yet not a single animal could she see. There were, however, an abundance of tiny earth lights that hovered around the trees. Yet as she approached them to investigate, they twirled off, beyond her scrutiny.
‘There be something altogether familiar about this place.’ She turned to see where they’d entered, to find only a door and frame standing alone in the middle of paradise. A smile swept over her lips as she experienced deja-vu.
‘Thee may know it as the Land of Fairy. As thou art one of their Chosen, thou art now permitted to enter their realm.’ Maelgwn took up her hand and began to walk with her.
Tory felt as if she would burst with happiness as the tranquillity of the surroundings engulfed her. ‘I remember this place now, I dreamt of it several times after we met.’
Maelgwn stopped still and turned to face her. ‘As did I. Many times.’
Upon the King and Queen’s return to Aberffraw, they were besieged by all at court. From the little they could discern from their subjects’ garbled reports, they guessed that Taliesin must have delivered the gymnasium. The royal couple were whisked to the Great Hall to view the mysterious manifestation that had fascinated their subjects.
The magician hadn’t just delivered the equipment, he’d installed it as well. The weights, benches and other equipment were well spaced around the walls and the punching bags hung from the high timber beams overhead. The walls of the court were now lined, between the windows, with the same huge mirrors that had been in the gymnasium at Llyn Cerrig Bach. In the centre of the hall was a padded mat to be used for sparring. It had a large black circle marked upon it and a huge motif of the Dragon in the centre.
‘How?’ Tory shook her head, mystified by the High Merlin’s means.
‘The folk,’ Maelgwn answered simply, then he began to show his men a thing or two of what he’d learnt.
After all had enjoyed a bit of a play, Tory summoned her masters together, asking them to sit on the perimeter of the circle marked on the mat. She had to laugh when she found all the men seated to the left of her and the women to the right, with the gaping space of the circle between them. ‘This will never do,’ she concluded, clapping her hands to draw their attention. ‘Right, it be high time that I enlightened thee all to exactly what thou art letting thyselves in for. I assume that everyone seated around this circle aspires to study under me through the cold seasons. If this should not be the case for any of thee, please leave the room at once.’
Old Percival, the accountant, and the very pregnant Jenovefa, who stood looking on from the outside of the circle, moved to leave at the Queen’s request.
‘Nay,’ Tory called after them, waving them back. ‘Percival, I believe one could regard thee as well trusted.’
The old man smiled, delighted that he might still observe, as it was extremely interesting to him.
‘And Jenovefa, thee may want to hear what I have to say for future consideration.’
Jenovefa could hardly believe that the Queen would even consider her, and she opened her mouth to answer.
‘Nay.’ Rhys laughed at the ridiculous notion. ‘My wife hast no desire to be a warrior! She shall be a mother before long and will have plenty to occupy her time.’
‘With all due respect to thee, Sir Rhys, I do believe I am addressing thy wife.’ Tory didn’t even look to him. ‘I am sorry, Jenovefa, thou wast about to say?’
‘I am most honoured by thy suggestion, Majesty, but I feel I must decline.’ Though she smiled, her expression was cold as she curtseyed.
‘The choice be yours, Jenovefa, but should thee change thy mind …’ Tory added with regret as she watched her go.
Jenovefa nodded back to her and quietly left the room.
‘So, am I now safe in assuming that only the potential initiates remain?’
‘Aye,’ they all responded in good cheer.
‘Then know this,’ Tory’s voice resounded in the large room and all her pupils hushed in anticipation. ‘My role for the duration of thy training be that of thy Sensei. Whilst thou art in training under me, ye will all refer to me as such. Sensei means head teacher, and my word henceforth be law for all the initiates of the Goddess. Anyone who finds themself unable to adhere to my conditions, now or at any time, need only leave.’ Tory raised her arm and pointed to the door. ‘These terms and standards of behaviour will be adhered to without exception or question. I will, of course, be more than happy to explain anything thee may not understand. I suggest thee all consider carefully thy actions before withdrawing, as there will be no second chances for the indecisive.’ Tory took a long pause to allow them a moment to absorb her words. ‘Upon thy arrival in this room tomorrow at noon, I expect all or nothing, ladies and gentlemen. Have I made myself plain?’
‘Aye,’ they responded, a few of the men sounding more wary now.
‘Alright then, it be time thee all became acquainted with thy sparring partners.’
Brockwell’s eyes darted straight across to Katren, who had seemed to be avoiding him since their day of combat. He was pleased to find her eyes rested upon him also, a gentle smile of confirmation gracing her lips.
‘These partners art permanent and again, not negotiable.’
She c
alled them forth in their set pairs, directing each to their designated places alongside the other around the circle’s circumference. As they numbered twelve, including herself, Tory gave them all a position in the circle, corresponding to a number on the sundial in the courtyard. The head of the Dragon marking twelve was Maelgwn’s position, so Tory asked the King to take his place.
‘Thou art still my partner, I hope,’ Maelgwn said on his way past her.
‘Eternally,’ she assured him. ‘Now remember these places when I call thee to meditation, before and after training each day.’
Tory looked at Calin, who appeared miles away as he gazed at Katren. ‘Sir Brockwell.’ She gave him a start. ‘Thou art number one, next to Maelgwn.’ Tory felt the two of them still had a few problems to work out. ‘Lady Katren, as two, shall be thy partner. For as we have already witnessed, she be a fine challenge for thy capabilities at present.’
The rest of the men laughed and made jest of the match. Yet Katren and Brockwell happily stepped forward, ignoring them all to take their places alongside each other at one and two o’clock.
‘Just wait,’ Tory warned the rest of them. ‘I have not finished yet. Sir Angus, thou art number three and Alma shall be thy partner as number four.’ The reason for this match was obvious, as they struck Tory as having the same problem — they were both very shy when it came to dealing with the opposite sex. Tory hoped that if thrown together, they might stumble upon the understanding they lacked and secretly longed for.
Angus and Alma, who’d barely exchanged more than two words, coyly acknowledged each other and quickly took their places. Poor Angus, a few years older than Brockwell and having only a fraction of his experience with women, found himself between two of them.
‘Vortipor.’
‘Lady.’ He stepped forward, ever so eager to see who the Goddess had chosen for him.
‘Five o’clock. Cara …’
The girl came bounding forward, just as eager. ‘At thy service, Majesty,’ she announced, admiring the great leader beside her.
‘…six.’
Vortipor had already led Cara to their places. This made Tory smile; if their ally was going to take a bride, it may as well be one of her own flock.
‘My dear Sir Tiernan,’ Tory beckoned him closer, with a sweet smile.
‘Aye, lady.’ He approached, a mite reserved as only Sir Rhys, Sir Cedric and Ione remained.
‘Thou art number seven. Ione, thou art eight.’
‘Nay!’ Tiernan cried in protest, as he and Ione both stubbornly headed to opposite ends of the room.
This was so predictable it made Tory furious. ‘Listen, I have very good reason for this which we will discuss later.’ Tory lowered her voice. ‘But for now I ask that thee kindly take thy places, or take thy leave.’
With a certain degree of disfavour, Tiernan and Ione took their mark.
Sir Cedric was number nine and was positioned to the other side of Ione. Rhys, the other married man, was number ten and was Cedric’s partner. Maelgwn had mentioned that the two had had contentions of late, so this was the perfect opportunity to knock that on the head.
Lastly was herself at eleven, beside the King. The Knights of the Round Mat, Tory thought amused, as she took up her position. Just doesn’t have the same ring to it, really.
Tory instructed them all to take a few deep breaths and still their minds, before taking hold of the hand of the person on either side of them. After much complaining, they finally followed the simple instruction. ‘Culprits pay for time wasted.’
‘I can vouch for that,’ Maelgwn added to lighten the mood.
Tory flashed him a smile, ever thankful for his constant support. She drew another deep breath, of the mind to unite this mismatched bunch by spring if it killed her. ‘Take a look around this circle … at each other. Thou art going to be spending much time together, and thus it will be far less painful for us all if everyone makes an effort to get along.’ Tory’s eyes rested on Ione and Tiernan a moment as she said, ‘Remember, thou art all on the same side, a team, one whole. Thou art the future teachers, protectors and representatives of Gwynedd, of the Goddess and her mysteries.’
Tory noted they all sat a little taller, proud to have been chosen to be a part of this elite club. If she could just keep this momentum going, all would be well. ‘I want everyone here to consider the people seated around this circle to be as sacred to thyself as thy right arm. Regard them, at all times, with the same respect thee would want for thyself. This be the will and the way of the Goddess.’
‘So be it,’ came the reply, with good cheer from most.
She went on to inform them of the advantages, like the weekends of leisure time, and of the grading system and how it worked. The King and Tory then presented them with their uniforms of white. For now, only Tory’s clothes would be black. Her belt was also black, with two white bars. Those who were beginning were given white belts (tenth Kyu), the lowest grade. She considered Katren, Maelgwn, Cara and Alma to be a grade above (ninth Kyu), knowing more than the others, and thus they had belts of white with a yellow bar. She then explained to them all that these grades were only temporary and that the first real grading would take place two months hence on the feast of Samhain.
This feast marked the beginning of the year for the Britons. The official date was the fifth day of Pethboc (November first), and it was celebrated the night before. Tory had decided upon this date when informed that it was also the traditional feast day of the War Goddess.
Sir Tiernan sought out the Queen that same night, and finding her alone in the library, he beseeched to know why she disfavoured him so.
Tory was surprised by his words. ‘On the contrary, Sir Tiernan, thou art very dear to me.’
‘Then why hast thou placed me with Ione, when thou art well aware we do not like each other.’
‘Really? I have spoken with Ione and she hast no problem with the arrangement. She only reacted as she did because you were so obviously opposed to the idea. What’s more, I feel quite sure that it be not Ione that thou art objecting to, but rather an idea of her and “her kind” that thou hast built up in thy head.’
‘Perhaps.’
‘Tiernan.’ Tory’s tone softened. ‘There be another reason, which I hope thee will be sensitive enough to understand. I ask that it will go no further than thyself, as indeed I have not even told Maelgwn.’
This was the tone Sorcha often used, and he looked up, almost expecting to see her. ‘Pray speak, Majesty. Thou hast my strictest confidence.’
Tory invited him to sit down. She took a deep breath before beginning and spoke softly so that none might overhear. ‘This much I know of Ione for true. She was raped and relieved of her tongue at the tender age of eight. I have asked her about the incident, but she cannot or will not confide in me. Still, I have a fair idea who was responsible.’
Tiernan felt remorse for his rash judgement, and he hadn’t yet heard the half of it.
‘This be where, I believe, her intense hatred of men — soldiers and nobles in particular — stems from. This also explains why she pretends to be crazy and why she hast built herself up so, to protect herself and others like her who may fall victim to the same fate. Ione be no whore, Tiernan. She can scarce tolerate a man near her, let alone …’ Tory waved her hand around a second, trying to find an apt way of putting it.
‘I did not realise.’
Tory was warmed by his apparent change of heart and placed both her hands upon his. ‘Tiernan, thou art one of the most sensitive men I have ever known. I do not expect thee to court the girl, for heaven’s sake, but if she can see that not all men art violent, mindless barbarians, perhaps she might lose some of her hatred and fear. I realise this shall require much patience on thy behalf, but I believe thou art well able to cope with the task. The question be, however, art thou prepared to?’
‘Aye, Majesty.’ He seemed lost in thought for a moment, before he gave half a laugh. ‘It would seem I do not understand w
omen half as well as I would like to believe.’
‘I would say that most of the men here art of the same mind at present. I do thank thee for thou consideration and kindness.’
‘Thou art the considerate one, Majesty.’ Tiernan stood to kiss her hand in leaving. ‘May I ask, who dost thou suspect the attacker might have been?’ The Queen seemed hesitant to answer, so he added, ‘I might be able to assist in some way.’
Tory resolved to confide in him, feeling Sorcha quietly influencing the decision. ‘Cadogan, and perhaps Caradoc as well.’
Tiernan didn’t seem at all surprised by the suggestion. ‘I would say that thy instinct serves thee well. I would certainly not put it past either of them, especially in their younger days together.’
‘Dost thou think Cadogan loyal to Gwynedd, Tiernan?’
‘My good Queen,’ he answered, knowing that this had been a point of contention between herself and the King, ‘in truth, I think Cadogan be loyal to Cadogan. I shall keep my eyes and ears open for thee.’ He bowed and departed.
As she watched the knight leave, she recalled what she’d learnt of him from Sorcha’s memories. Tory feared that he still pined for the Queen he’d loved so dearly and, moreover, blamed himself for not being there to save her from Cadfer. This was the reason Tory had placed the two together, for deep down they had the same problem. Ione and Tiernan were both consumed by past tragedies, making them feel unworthy of love, or oblivious to it. This was a pity, as both were intelligent, handsome and deeply caring souls. How sad that people couldn’t see through society’s facade to behold the simple truth about each other, she thought.
15
FULL MOON
On the Saturday that marked the masters’ first full moon together, Tory woke earlier than usual. Her sleep had been disturbed by a dream, though she couldn’t remember the details. Maelgwn was still blissfully asleep beside her, and as it was not very often that he slept so well, she decided to leave him to dream on in peace.
After she’d slung on her training gear, Tory headed down to the huge kitchens to see what she could find to eat. As she crossed the entrance hall, she was surprised to spy Sir Angus slipping out the main doors that led to the inner bailey. Tory moved quietly to see what he was up to at this early hour.
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