Taliesin laughed without humor. “Of course not. Arawn simply keeps his prisoners here sometimes. Cadwaladr is just one of many who have spent time in the cells of Caer Ddu. Even Arianrhod, who made Cade what he is, was captive here for a while in her guise as Modrun, before she gave Arawn a son.”
That bit of information left Rhiann only with questions. Fortunately, Dafydd was there to ask one for her. “Modrun was captive here before Arawn stole Mabon from her?”
Taliesin’s look was withering. “Are young people taught nothing in this age? Do they no longer listen to their elders at table?”
“What would Arawn want with Cade?” Rhiann said, trying to take the attention off Dafydd. “Do you think he means to keep him forever?”
“What is forever when you are the ruler of death?” Taliesin said, replying to but not answering her question, in his usual infuriating fashion. “Time does not exist to Arawn as it does to us. Today, last week, three hundred years from now are inseparable from one another in his mind, happening between a blink of an eye and the unfailing turning of the ages.”
The castle didn’t seem to be getting any closer, but as the companions came around one more spiral, the entrance was suddenly before them. The gatehouse towered over their heads and the giant wooden doors, nearly four times as tall as Rhiann, were open.
“We really can walk right in?” Rhun said.
“It’s getting out I’m concerned about,” Goronwy said.
Taliesin extinguished the light on his staff and the companions grouped together behind him, looking ahead into the courtyard of the castle. It seemed to Rhiann that a hundred yards separated them from the entrance to the keep. Those doors were also open wide.
“Is it welcoming us?” Dafydd said. “Or drawing us into a trap?”
“No doubt the latter,” Goronwy said.
“Be silent,” Taliesin said. “From here on, follow me and do not speak. The castle knows we are here and has opened its doors for us. The owner, however, doesn’t know we are here and I would rather that he never did. At least not until we have Cadwaladr in hand. If it is Arawn who took him, we’ll make him angry, but I would prefer to put off the moment as long as possible.”
Dafydd whispered in Rhiann’s ear: “And if not Arawn, who?”
Taliesin raised his voice slightly, emphasizing the importance of his instructions. “Do not touch your weapons unless you are attacked. The castle will protect us, as long as we do not menace it or its inhabitants.”
The companions nodded their heads, earnestly and sincerely. Taliesin held up his hand for silence and took his first step onto the stone floor that was the start of the threshold of the castle. No great tumult was raised; no alarm sounded. Tentatively, the rest followed him, trying to walk normally instead of on tiptoe, trusting Taliesin and the castle itself, though only because they trusted Taliesin.
An hour later, or perhaps just a few moments, they were at the entrance to the great hall. The dimensions of the room were staggering, as were its decorations. Stars glimmered on the ceiling where there’d been none outside the castle.
“It’s enchanted,” Dafydd breathed.
Taliesin gave him a sharp look, and Dafydd looked down, embarrassed to have spoken and disobeyed Taliesin’s instructions. Rhiann looked back at Goronwy and Rhun, who walked a pace behind Dafydd. Like Rhiann, they were swiveling their heads from left to right, trying to take everything in, from the elaborate decorations and artifacts, to the weapons lining the walls, to the great, golden ship.
Taliesin led them to a far doorway. He leaned forward into the stairwell, looking down a long, darkened flight of steps. The companions crowded up behind him.
“Now, we’ll see.” He took a step down, and then another, and the others filed silently after him.
Chapter Six
Cade
“I’m worried, Cade,” Siawn said. “He hasn’t woken up since they brought him back to me.”
Cade crouched beside Crawdawg. He touched his face, which was very cold, and then patted him front and back, feeling for wounds underneath his clothes, wishing that the power within him could give life as well as take it. “It doesn’t appear that he is bleeding anywhere but his face.”
“The damage must be inside him,” Siawn said.
Cade shook his head. “I can’t help him. I don’t know that anyone can.”
Siawn knelt again beside his brother. Taking a wooden bowl of water, already reddened with Crawdawg’s blood, he dipped his fingers into it and made the sign of the cross. Then he took a vial of oil from inside his robes, opened it, and tipped some onto his fingers. Touching Crawdawg’s forehead, then chest and loins, he spoke the words of the last rites: “Through this holy unction and His own most tender mercy may the Lord pardon thee whatever sins or faults thou hast committed.”
“Amen,” Cade said.
Siawn turned to him. “You’re a Christian?”
“Yes,” Cade said.
“You say that so simply and yet you are here with me, in a castle that no man has ever seen before, in the hands of a mad god. Where is the God of Christ?” Siawn shook his head. “Before this week, I would have said the old gods no longer existed, and perhaps never had.”
“Cousin Siawn,” Cade said. “That’s foolish talk. The old gods retain their power over us, as they always have. What they do not have is power over the Christ.”
“Mabon is more powerful than the Christ,” Siawn said, despair in every line of his body. “I see that now.”
Cade reached out a hand to gain Siawn’s attention, wanting him to look at him. “Is a windstorm powerful? An eclipse or a plague?”
“Of course,” Siawn said.
“Mabon’s actions are just as random and undisciplined as the weather,” Cade said. “It is only through belief in the Christ that we are able to gain control over our lives. Salvation isn’t about reaching heaven, although I hope to. It’s about creating order out of the chaos of the world.”
Siawn was staring at Cade now. “You’ve changed, Cade. When Father told me you were the son of Cadwallon, the true King of Gwynedd, not Cynyr’s son, I didn’t think much of it. To me, you were still Rhun’s little brother, even though you had become my cousin as well.”
“I am both those things,” Cade said.
“But a little more now, I think, my lord,” Siawn said. “You are the Pendragon.” He looked down at Crawdawg, who still hadn’t moved and Cade feared would never move again.
“Even were I Arthur himself,” Cade said, “instead of only his heir, I couldn’t make a difference for your brother now.”
“When Mabon asked you to follow him, what did you tell him?” Siawn said.
“Nothing,” Cade said. “Not yet.”
“He offered me the opportunity to serve you once you agreed to do his bidding.”
“And what did you say?” Cade said.
“I agreed to serve you.”
Cade nodded. “Without agreeing to do his bidding. Very good.”
They’d been kneeling beside Crawdawg and now Cade stood and walked to the door. It was time to leave, before Mabon decided that he didn’t want to give them any more time to think.
“Do you have a plan for getting out?” Siawn said.
Cade bent down and studied the gap between the door and the frame, wondering if he could get something narrow between them to lift the bar that held the door closed. His other option was to kick the door in. He was pretty sure he could do it, but that method had the disadvantage of making an enormous amount of noise. Teregad and Mabon had at least three men helping them. If there were demons among the garrison, it would make a difference in how easily they might escape. And if it were daylight, that would inhibit Cade. He didn’t even have a cloak to hide beneath.
“Ideally, I’d like to leave now,” Cade said, “before I’m asked to make an oath I fully intend to break.”
“Mabon wouldn’t like that,” Siawn said. “Such an act could bring the wrath of Arawn down on your
head.”
“I’m afraid that might be inevitable, given Mabon’s present course,” Cade said, “but certainly worth postponing for as long as possible.”
Siawn made to reply but Cade held up a hand to stop him. Cade had heard voices—speaking in Welsh—and footsteps on the stairs. Cade peered through the bars that formed the window in the door. Then he smiled and turned to Siawn.
“Earlier you mentioned praying for deliverance?” he said.
“Yes,” Siawn said.
“Well your prayers have been answered.” Cade turned back to the door, his heart lifting at the sight of Taliesin.
“My lord, Cadwaladr,” Taliesin said. “I’m very glad to see you, though you don’t look well.”
“Taliesin,” Cade replied, amused that it was as if they were greeting each other in Cade’s own hall instead of on either side of a prison door. “It looks worse than it is.” He looked past Taliesin to see Rhiann a step behind him.
“Cariad.” The word rose unbidden to his lips. Loved one. Once said, the word was impossible to take back and Cade didn’t try. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“They didn’t dare leave me behind,” Rhiann said. “What did they do to you?” She moved forward, hand outstretched towards Cade’s bruised face.
Taliesin, however, stuck out his arm to stop her. “The instant one of us touches him, I fear we lose the protection of the spell.”
“He’s injured, Taliesin!” Rhiann said. “We’re going to have to open that door and release him eventually. What are we waiting for?”
“Courage,” Taliesin said.
It’s not just me, then, who sometimes doesn’t have quite as much of it as he wants. “Teregad’s brothers are imprisoned with me,” Cade said.
“Only one brother,” Siawn said. “Crawdawg is dead.”
“I’m sorry,” Cade said, pity in his voice. He hoped Siawn could understand the urgency as well. Now was not the time to mourn. “Will you come with me?”
“Of course,” Siawn said. “Mabon cannot hurt him now. His soul is with our Lord and Savior in heaven.”
“Are you ready?” Taliesin drew their attention back to the task at hand.
“Yes,” Cade said.
“Once we open this door,” Taliesin said, “you must take Rhiann and run as fast as you can for the entrance to the castle. You need to behave as if your lives depended on it.”
“Which they do, I assume,” Cade said.
“That would be correct,” said Rhiann.
“What will you do?” Cade said to Taliesin.
“Placate Arawn and his castle.”
“This is Arawn’s castle?” Cade said.
Taliesin checked himself. “Whose did you think?”
“Mabon is the one who put me here,” Cade said. “He claims to have ordered my abduction; he and Teregad of Caer Dathyl.”
“Is that so?” Taliesin said, but didn’t elaborate. He turned to Rhiann. “Ready?”
Rhiann nodded. She and Taliesin put their hands underneath the door bar and jerked it up. As it clattered to the ground, a deep tolling bell called through the castle. The walls themselves vibrated with the sound. Another instant and Cade had pushed through the door, grabbing Rhiann’s hand as he went by, Siawn at his heels.
Cade took the stairs leading up out of the cells two at a time, tugging Rhiann along with him. Neither she nor Siawn could keep up with him if he truly went as quickly as Taliesin had asked. Cade assumed Taliesin hadn’t meant for him to leave them behind. Then, with each twist of the stairwell, Cade picked up another companion: first Dafydd, and then Goronwy, Hywel, and then finally Rhun, who’d been guarding the top step.
“Go! Go!” Rhun pointed towards the front doors.
As a group, they raced across the great hall. They had to skid to a halt only half-way across, however, as Teregad, Mabon, and three guards appeared out of three different side rooms at the same time, converging on them and blocking their way.
“Back to the stairs!” Cade shoved Rhiann behind him to protect her.
Goronwy pulled out his sword and pointed it at Teregad. Hywel and Dafydd matched him and faced the guards, keeping them at bay.
“I can take them,” Dafydd said.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Stepping out from behind Cade, Rhiann pulled an arrow from her quiver, pressed it into her bow, and loosed it. The arrow took the lead guard through the throat: a perfect shot. Mabon, Teregad, and the two other guards dove to the ground, taking cover behind the statues and furniture that adorned the room.
Cade put a hand to his hip. His sword wasn’t in its sheath, of course. “I need a weapon!” He looked around for anything he could use that wasn’t so ancient it would splinter on impact.
“Take mine, my lord.” Dafydd held out his weapon and backed closer to Cade. “I’ll use another.”
“What other?” Cade said.
Dafydd switched his sword to his left hand and stuck out his right, to grab the hilt of the sword Cade had noticed earlier that was sunk deep into a rock. Dafydd jerked at it. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t move.
“Let me get that.” Cade didn’t mean to insult Dafydd, but even if a blade was attached to that hilt, no human was going to pull it from a rock.
Dafydd moved aside so Cade could grasp the handle of the sword. He tugged on it, testing for how tightly it was caught, and it slid smoothly out of the stone.
“Rhiann. Look at thi—” Cade swung around to show the sword to his companions, glad he could help in the fight.
But none of them could look at him. They were frozen, their bodies held unmoving at seemingly impossible angles and positions. Rhiann had shot an arrow and it had left her bow, but now hung suspended in mid-air, aiming for the top of Teregad’s head which he’d left exposed over the rail of the golden ship.
Cade stopped, stunned, and stared at the gleaming blade. Taliesin had just reached the top of the stairs. He walked to Cade and knelt before him, the only companion whom the spell did not effect.
“What’s happening here?” The sword felt light in Cade’s hand; its beauty shown all around him, reflecting the light from the walls and the ceiling. More than its splendor, however, the power that coursed through him when he held it nearly brought him to his knees. But it wasn’t the untamed power of his father’s weapon that he felt, but control—iron control—for the first time since Arianrhod changed him two years before. With this sword in his hand, Cade almost believed he could master himself and it.
“Sire.”
“Taliesin, what are you doing?” Cade wanted to look at everything at once: at Taliesin kneeling at his feet, at his companions, at Rhiann’s arrow hanging in mid-air, and at the sword, with its entrancing beauty. Diamonds had been set along the hilt. They glittered, a match to the glory of the hall itself.
“I bow before the High King,” Taliesin said. “The true heir to the throne of Wales stands before me with his birthright in his hand.”
The sword pulsed beneath Cade’s fingers and he clenched it tighter. Mabon, too, had offered him the crown of the High King. But that throne wasn’t yet his, and Taliesin, for all his wisdom, had no business kneeling before him. Cade put his hand under Taliesin’s elbow and lifted him to his feet.
“You, of all people, should know better,” Cade said.
Taliesin put out one finger, tracing the carving on the sword. “This is the sword of kings. Its name is Caledfwlch. King Arthur himself was the last to wield it.”
“Battle-breach,” Cade said, still gazing at the sword in wonder. “I thought its existence a legend.”
“I’ve known of it, but never its location,” Taliesin said. “No man alive has seen it before today. Recent events have been strange and unexpected enough for me to believe that Arianrhod herself left it here, buried in the stone for you to find.”
Entranced, Cade examined the sword again, noting the way it reflected light from the enchanted ceiling. He glanced up. The moon that the clouds had obscured the night before shone down, r
eflecting off the shimmering sword like frost on snow.
“Do you claim this sword, Cadwaladr, son of Cadwallon?” Taliesin said. “The banner of the Pendragon is yours, and with it the throne of Wales.”
Cade turned to meet Taliesin’s eyes, understanding the importance of the moment. If he’d once had a choice about his destiny, he no longer did. “I claim it.”
Time restarted itself. Teregad shouted as Rhiann’s arrow slid across the top of his head. Sword held high, Cade ran forward. Goronwy and Rhun followed.
Mabon shoved at the remaining guards who stumbled forward. “By the spear of Aeron! Fight!”
While Rhun dispatched the first guard, Cade barreled into the second, ramming his shoulder into his chest. The guard fell backwards and spun across the floor, ending up at Goronwy’s feet. Goronwy, barely hesitating in his rush for the door, stopped for no more than a heartbeat to slice through the guard’s midsection as he ran by.
“What about you?” Cade demanded of Teregad and Mabon, but they had given up talking and were retreating from the hall, as fast as their legs could take them. They raced across expanse of floor between the ship and Mabon’s office. Rhun grabbed a knife and spear from a rank of them affixed to the wall. As Teregad reached the threshold, Rhun threw the spear.
Mabon waived his hand. A light flashed. Although Rhun had thrown with deadly accuracy, the spear fell to the ground before it could strike Teregad in the back. Mabon and Teregad continued their headlong flight with Rhun and Cade following them.
“That’s the difference between him and me.” Cade skidded sideways through the office doorway as he tried to change direction. Mabon checked their position one last time, looking over his shoulder as he ran, before he and Teregad disappeared through a door at the far end of the room, next to the fireplace. The door closed with a snap behind them.
Not ready to give up, Cade ran to the door. He threw his weight against the solid oak. It didn’t budge. He turned to Rhun, to ask for help, and then understood why his brother hadn’t followed. He’d seen Cadfael’s body suspended above the fireplace.
The Pendragon's Blade (The Last Pendragon Saga Book 2) Page 7