“Let them go.” Taliesin entered the room behind Rhun, with Goronwy beside him. “We must depart before the castle decides it would prefer that we stay.”
“I don’t like leaving them,” Cade said, “but I have to admit that you’re right.” He strode back across the floor, stopping when he reached the table where Mabon had left his father’s sword. It lay in its rest, not as resplendent as Caledfwlch, but still the sword of a king.
“Bring it,” Taliesin said. “It belongs to you and shouldn’t remain here.”
Cade switched Caledfwlch to his left hand and picked up his father’s sword. He held it gingerly, feeling the customary surge of power when he grasped it. Now that he’d held Caledfwlch, however, the feeling his father’s sword gave him was akin to nausea and he hastily thrust it into the empty sheath at his waist.
“Let’s go.” He met Taliesin’s eyes. They saw far too much and Cade suspected he’d given himself away, even if he’d tried hard not to. Then, Rhiann appeared in the doorway. She took in the two swords—one in its sheath and the other in Cade’s hand—and then her eyes traveled above Cade’s head to the wall above the fireplace.
She swayed and moaned.
“Don’t look!” Cade used his greater height to loom over her and block her view, but Rhiann pushed at him, trying to pass. Unable to resist touching her, Cade wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. As he did so, if he’d had breath, he would have gasped. Even as he shushed her, even as she lowered her face into his chest, he marveled at how little control it took to hold her. He tightened his grip on her and on his sword. It was Caledfwlch; it had to be.
“That’s ...” Rhiann stuttered, pointing with one hand, oblivious to his internal upheaval. “He’s ...”
“He’s dead.” Cade brushed her forehead with his lips, reveling in the feel of her skin on his. “You cannot help him.”
She peered past Cade to her father, unable to look away. “Who did that to him?”
Cade glanced up at Cadfael one last time. His head sagged on the chain that held him around the neck. He’d died long enough ago now that his muscles had lost their rigor.
“Mabon and Teregad.” Cade gazed down at Rhiann until his intensity forced her to look away from her father and up at him.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why did they kill him?”
“Because he killed Cynyr and my men,” Cade said. “I assure you, the irony does not escape me.”
“Can we get him down?” Rhiann looked from Cade to Taliesin.
“No, Rhiann,” Taliesin said.
Still with his arm around her waist, Cade walked her out of the room and across the magnificent great hall to the castle’s exit. The doors remained open, although it seemed that they weren’t quite as welcomingly wide as when the companions had first entered the hall after leaving the prison cells.
“Is it my imagination or is the castle urging us to leave?” Goronwy said.
“We’re going; we’re going.” Rhun broke into a trot as they set off as a group across the courtyard.
Taliesin murmured under his breath, even as he picked up his pace. Cade caught a phrase of his incantation and it struck him how much like the blessing Siawn had spoken for the passing of Crawdawg it was: Arawn, most powerful one, we are blessed by your favors; in the hour of our deaths, we pray you will be merciful to us. For your generosity and bounty, we thank you.
By the time the companions were halfway across the courtyard, they were running. Cade pushed Rhiann ahead of him, hanging back himself to make sure everyone got through in safety. Dafydd caught Rhiann’s hand and pulled her between the great gates set in the curtain wall. Cade let Hywel, who still clutched his sword, pass him, leaving only Taliesin, who’d turned around and now walked backwards, still chanting his invocation.
He reached the door. Side by side, Taliesin and Cade passed beneath the gatehouse. Instantly, the wooden doors began to close, dogging at their heels; then they were through. The great gates shut with a sharp bang behind them. The distant bell that had heralded Cade’s escape tolled one last time, and fell silent. All was quiet, except for the steady breathing, and the beating hearts, of Cade’s companions.
Chapter Seven
Rhiann
Some part of Rhiann knew that Cadfael didn’t deserve her tears, but she shed them for him anyway. No man deserved to die that way, not even one with as little honor as her father. She couldn’t get the picture of him affixed to the wall above the fireplace out of her head. She seemed to be having no end of trouble with disturbing images, all piling one on top of the other.
With her hand in Dafydd’s, they wended their way down the long road from Caer Ddu. The black sky stretched above them with the same nothingness they’d seen on the way in.
Cade kept glancing up. “Where’s east, Taliesin?” he finally asked.
“We’ll find out when we reach the bottom of the mountain,” Taliesin said.
“As if that’s some kind of answer,” Cade said, under his breath.
“It was also like this during our journey to the castle,” Dafydd said. “Taliesin says that only those who know the way may find the proper path.”
“And he knew the way already,” Cade said, not as a question.
“Yes,” Rhiann said. “Taliesin—in some ancient time that he wouldn’t talk about—had something to do with the building of Castle Ddu. He set the wards.”
“Did he now?” Cade glanced at Taliesin.
As always, Taliesin’s long robe with its ragged hem trailed along the ground behind him. He held his head high, though, walking steadily ahead of the rest of the company. Two more twists around the mountain and they reached the grove of trees where’d they’d left the horses. No light came from the sky, and Rhiann wondered if they’d entered some nether world where there was no sun and never would be again. It had been night when they arrived, but surely the sun should rise soon.
“Cadfan!” Cade exclaimed at the sight of his horse tied to a tree just off the trail, waiting patiently for his master’s return. The horse nickered and Cade gently rubbed his nose. “I’m sorry I have no carrot, boy.”
“I do.” Rhun pulled one from his pack, along with a wrinkled apple, and tossed them both to Cade. Cadfan snuffed Cade’s palm and then gently lipped them off it.
“I vote we ride,” said Goronwy.
“That is acceptable,” Taliesin said.
Cade still held Caledfwlch in one hand, while his father’s sword was sheathed at his waist. He swung around with a helpless expression that said, what do I do now?
Rhun laughed. “Well you can’t wear two. You’ll probably slice your leg off. Even a sidhe such as you can’t re-grow limbs.” Rhun had already mounted his horse and now reached down to Cade. “Give me your father’s sword, Cade. When we get home the leather-maker can craft you an appropriate sheath for Caledfwlch, but it can use your father’s for now.
“It’s almost an embarrassment of riches.” Cade handed his father’s sword to Rhun and sheathed Caledfwlch in its place.
Rhiann had given Arddun to Siawn to ride so Dafydd pulled her onto his horse after him. She glanced over at Arddun to see how she was taking the change in riders, and saw Siawn staring at Cade, his face white.
“What did Rhun call you?” he said.
When Cade didn’t immediately reply, Dafydd said, “Sidhe. The goddess, Arianrhod, lured Lord Cadwaladr into a cave two years ago and changed him. He can kill a man with a touch of his hand, but he tries only to use his power on people he doesn’t like.”
“Dafydd,” Rhiann said, admonishing him.
“What?” he said. “Siawn’s got to know, doesn’t he?”
Cade studied Siawn. “That’s not quite how I would have told you, but I haven’t time to explain further. We must leave this place. Dare you to travel with me, knowing what I really am?”
“This changes everything,” Siawn said.
Taliesin snorted. “It changes nothing. Lord Cadwaladr’s the same
as he was an hour ago. The only thing that has changed is your knowledge of him. He is the Pendragon. That’s all you need to remember.”
“Taliesin,” Cade said. “It’s not that simple and you know it.”
“It’s that simple to me,” Hywel said. “No point agonizing over what is done.”
“What you said in the cell,” Siawn said. “It was all a lie.”
“I told you the truth,” Cade said. “I believe in the Christ.”
“As do I,” said Dafydd and Hywel together.
“Well, I don’t,” Rhun said, “but I don’t care which gods a man follows, as long as he is loyal to Cade.”
“I believe in all the gods,” Taliesin said, brightly.
“You can’t stay here,” Rhun said to Siawn. “You have to come with us now. I’ll give you until we reach Llanllugan to work this out. You can choose then if you will ride with the Pendragon or be on your way.”
“Provided he keeps his mouth shut about what he’s seen,” Goronwy said.
“Maybe Lord Cadwaladr will take your life-force after all,” Dafydd said, unhelpfully.
Siawn didn’t answer, just stared down at Arddun’s mane. Cade turned from him and rode forward, assuming the rest would follow, which they did, even Siawn. Rhiann kept her eye on a point ahead where the archway of trees ended. As they grew closer to it, sunlight spilled into the shadows and Rhiann felt it pulling her forward, away from the darkness of the last hours.
Dafydd strained forward too; a quick glance at her companions showed that all of them could feel the pull. In unison, they urged their horses faster, pushing them. Then Cade pulled on Cadfan’s reins, slowing as he reached the limit of the forest, while the rest rode out from beneath the trees. Dafydd and Rhiann stopped a few yards from the edge of the forest to look back at Cade, and then turned the other way to gaze at the sun. It was setting. Again.
“How can the sun be going down?” Hywel was only a pace from Cade and put his hand out to stop him in case he had a thought to urge Cadfan out from under the trees. “It should be noon at the latest, not a full day gone already.”
“Time passes differently in the world of the sidhe,” Taliesin said. “I told you that before. I suspect it has been at least a day since we entered Castle Ddu, perhaps as many as three.”
“Remind me of this moment if I ever think to remember this adventure fondly,” Dafydd said. “Or think to visit Castle Ddu again.”
“I don’t know that the castle would ever allow us to return,” Taliesin said. “It is done with us, as, apparently, is Mabon. At least for now.”
Siawn spoke for the first time since his exchange with Cade. “He can rot in the tower of his castle for all eternity for all I care. Mabon and Teregad deserve each other.”
The companions stood together as the sun slowly fell behind the hills to the west. Dafydd gave Rhiann a hand down and she took another few steps forward so she could see behind them, up at Caer Ddu as it squatted on its mountain, its towers lit by the reddened light. She gazed at it, wondering that such an impressive castle could have been hidden from human eyes for so long. Then, even as she studied it, between one heartbeat and the next, it vanished. In its place stood a tree-covered peak, identical to all the others in this region of Wales.
“Taliesin!” Rhiann said. “The castle’s gone!”
While everyone else followed her pointing finger with their eyes, Taliesin sat nodding, one hand on the reins, his staff leaning against his shoulder. He had a half-smile on his lips.
Rhun looked at him curiously. “Do you see something we don’t?”
Taliesin grinned. “Always,” he said, and then relented. “I am Taliesin. My inheritance is not this staff, or the gold I carry at my waist. It is that.” Taliesin gestured towards the top of the mountain. “The ability to see when others don’t.” His eyes met Cade’s, and they nodded to each other.
The light faded, dusk falling abruptly on the hills as the sun went down behind the mountains to the west. With the rising of the darkness, Cade urged Cadfan out of the trees.
“We have some stories to tell each other, I think.” He looked down at Rhiann. “I wanted to ask you about my father’s sword. What made you bring it from Aberffraw?”
“I didn’t know that it was your father’s,” Rhiann said. “I was in a hurry when I went looking for a weapon for you. All the other swords in the armory were nothing special—no more than a metal blade, hilt, and crossguard. They hardly seemed appropriate for you. I had opened the chest to find you a belt. The sword lay underneath a ragged cloak. It was far more well-crafted than the others, and just lying there, unused and unwanted, so I took it.”
“Thank you for that,” Cade said. “Mabon wondered if it had called to me. I’m thinking it might have called to you. Perhaps you should wear it since I no longer need it.”
Dafydd still sat on his horse, just to Rhiann’s left. His eyes bright, he reached down and tugged Rhiann’s braid, which as usual was coming lose in wisps around her face. “Lady Rhiann is a valiant knight, my lord! If not for her, we would not have been able to protect the villagers.”
“Is this true, Rhiann?”
Rhiann nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Dafydd and I defended the villagers’ retreat. I killed ... many.” She looked down at her feet and flexed her bow hand, not wanting to remember, but unable to forget.
“I was there,” Taliesin said.
“And I counted the dead,” Rhun said.
“My lord—” Goronwy said.
Rhiann glanced at Goronwy who was looking at his brother with a very serious expression. Cade noted it too.
“Your decision,” Cade said. “I wasn’t with Dafydd and Rhiann, but I fought the Saxons and their demon allies at the ford, along with you and Hywel. We all know what they faced.”
“Well, I think it’s time.” Rhun dismounted. “For both our young lads.”
Cade smiled and waved a hand. “Get off those ponies, you two.” When neither Dafydd nor Hywel moved, he barked, “Dafydd! Hywel! Dismount!”
Hastily they scrambled off their horses. Cade dismounted too and walked forward towards Hywel. “Kneel.”
Hywel flushed as he stared up at Cade. Dafydd’s face, in contrast, was uncharacteristically white. Both boys-who-were-almost-men understood what this moment meant.
Taliesin recited, his arms spread wide:
“Before the doors of hell,
Lamps burned.
When we went with Cadwaladr,
A journey fraught with peril,
Of all who fought beside him
Only seven returned
From the Unseen Fortress.”
“Someday I’m going to catch you without a song to sing, Taliesin.” Then Cade shook his head. “On second thought, I’m not sure I look forward to that day.” He laid the flat of his sword on Hywel’s shoulder, while Goronwy mirrored his action in front of Dafydd, looking down at his brother.
“I would have your oath,” Goronwy said. “Are you man enough to give it?”
Dafydd stared up at him. “Yes, sir.”
“Do you swear to fear God, to obey His laws, to serve your lord, to protect the weak, and to be honorable, chivalrous, generous, and truthful in all things?” Goronwy said.
“I swear.” Dafydd’s voice cracked as it probably hadn’t for years, despite his effort to steady it.
“Dafydd ap Cynin,” Goronwy said. “I name you a knight.”
Cade spoke similar words to Hywel, and then in unison, he and Goronwy backhanded the boys across their faces with such force that they rocked backwards. Dafydd touched the corner of his lips with his finger, coming away with blood. Goronwy handed him his sword. “Rise, Sir Dafydd, knight of Cadwaladr.”
Dafydd and Hywel got to their feet. Rhiann found herself tearing up as the men embraced. Dafydd walked towards her.
“I’m a knight,” he said.
“I see that, Sir Dafydd,” Rhiann said. “I am honored to have witnessed it.”
Dafydd’s bro
w furrowed. “But what about you?” He swung around to speak to Cade. “What about Rhiann? She fought well too.”
“Oh no.” Rhiann held out a hand to stop his thoughts from progressing further. “I’m just fine as I am.”
“You’re sure?” Cade said. “We can keep it between us.” He gestured to the other men who were all gazing at Rhiann, smiles on their faces.
She was tempted, but ... “Do I have to be one of your knights to ride with you?”
Cade let out one of his forceful breaths. “No. You may ride with me, cariad, with or without a title.”
* * * * *
He called me cariad. Rhiann checked Cade’s profile. Again they rode through the night, heading back up the Roman road to Bryn y Castell. By her choice, she continued to ride with Dafydd. That it seemed as if Cade was softening somewhat towards her made her all the more determined to respect his wish that she not get too close. Rhiann knew the truth now within herself, and it was enough for her that she could admit it. She couldn’t control what Cade did or thought; what she wouldn’t do was lie to herself. I’m in love with Cade.
Yes, he was not human. Yes, there were aspects of that fact that terrified her, and yet ... she loved him anyway, both despite who he was, and because of it. The bards sang of love—that staggering emotion that brought low gods and men alike, but she’d not felt it; not even seen it. She thought it was a legend, as far-fetched and fleeting as that of the sidhe.
I think I’m going out of my mind. Even as Rhiann told herself that, she knew it wasn’t true, because she’d never felt more rational in her life. Cade had said that he couldn’t be close to her. Rhiann found herself accepting that with the same aplomb as the notion that she loved him. At the same time, she was the only woman who traveled with him; the only woman who knew the truth of him; and she knew, even if he didn’t, that he was certainly worth waiting for. Rhiann loved him enough to give him the distance he needed—and the time he needed, to find a way to love her.
The Pendragon's Blade (The Last Pendragon Saga Book 2) Page 8