by Myers, Karen
She knew her grandfather Edern would disregard any little errors she might make, but her stern foster-father was another matter. He would never scold her, not seriously anyway, and would never show his disappointment, but oh, how she didn’t want to disappoint him.
And I thought hunting the hounds was difficult, she reflected ruefully. Hostess for a royal visit is as bad, or worse. Tegwen tells me it will get easier over time, and I suppose that’s likely.
How does Rhys do it? She glanced over at her brother, at ease in his saddle and chatting with Edern.
So much for the plans Brynach and I were making such a short while ago, as though we were free to do as we wished.
She took the reins from the groom and mounted up, adjusting the lay of her skirts and straightening her back. She caught her foster-father’s eye, and hoped that was approval she saw in it.
Ceridwen had other thoughts to occupy her as they rode through the way to join George down at Llefelys’s new arrival point. She was looking forward to seeing her colleague Morien again. He was young, as scholars went, but he had an interesting mind. This would be his first visit to Greenway Court, and she’d made her own arrangements for housing him with her. That way no one would bother them when they poured through her library in the middle of the night.
She smiled to herself, remembering how scholar visits tended to go. Lots of talk, little sleep, and unwelcome interruptions to accommodate the requirements of kings.
She hadn’t spoken much to George since his return, but he’d told her something of his recovery from his father’s attack—the defense of the rose—and what he thought of as his new partnership with Cernunnos. She wanted to talk to Morien about it. She’d never encountered such a relationship before, nor read of it. Perhaps Morien had.
The echo of Cai was both striking and misleading. A paladin Cai may have been, and married long ago to the same woman, but he’d had no special relationship with the gods. She would have known if he had. But Taranis used George to pass his thunderbolt along to Gwyn, and George had overcome the temptation to keep it for himself, though he might have been able to use it since he was of Gwyn’s blood. What would that have meant, if he had somehow claimed a relationship with two gods at once?
She remembered the three-way blessing she’d invoked for him, before he went to Britain, how all three gods had shown an interest, and Cernunnos’s jealousy when they did. What of Senua, who sought him out within that unlikely kitten in Gaul? What did she want? George insisted she didn’t speak to him.
She’d discussed this with Gwyn again, a few days after George’s return. His only counsel was “wait and see—it will all come clear eventually.” Well, and maybe so, but she wanted to get ahead of the situation if it became a problem rather than trail behind it. She looked forward to Morien’s perspective.
She chuckled a moment. Morien would have his own topics he wanted to pursue. And there was no denying he was a handsome young man, someone she’d had little time to pursue when last they met. It promised to be a busy few days, in her library and out of it.
CHAPTER 35
At breakfast in the great hall the next day, George found himself bumped off the family table on the dais at the end of the hall by all the visiting dignitaries. He joined Eurig and Tegwen at the head of their long table on main floor.
“Where’s your wife, my boy?” Eurig asked.
George suppressed a chuckle at the waggling walrus mustaches.
Tegwen looked up from her food and murmured, “She has a long day ahead, and I imagine she’s resting until she has to start. I sent Eiddun over with Alun to meet her.”
“That’s right,” George told her. “Will you do me a favor and keep an eye on her? I wanted her to stay home, but she insisted.”
“I’ll do that, huntsman,” she said.
Eurig craned his neck around the hall. “I don’t see that foster-son of yours, either.”
“Maelgwn’s helping Thomas Kethin out there.” George tilted his head in the direction of the fairgrounds. Security for the event, he thought it, but they didn’t use that term here.
As he reached for the food on the platters before him, ham and breads and small fruits, he paused to admire his spotless new hunt coat. In the chill of the great stone hall, early in the day, it was comfortable enough, but he didn’t look forward to what it would be like on an August morning once the sun got going. The shade around the hound enclosure wouldn’t be enough to keep him cool with the temperatures soaring.
He’d told Gwyn about the practice of using kennel coats for such an exhibition, over light clothing, but Gwyn insisted upon the formal garments for the public event. All the hunt staff would be sweltering by the time the puppy show began.
“So, what was it like?” Eurig asked him.
“Hmm? What was what like?”
Eurig nodded at the head table on the dais, in the general direction of Gwyn and his uncle Llefelys. Tegwen sent her daughter at Llefelys’s side a fond look.
“Bringing the royalty of Gaul to Annwn.”
“Haven’t you two heard the story?” George asked, and they shook their heads.
He paused to take a bite while he considered how to tell them.
“Well, first of all, Mag did most of the work, with Rhodri, and Rhodri brought Maelgwn along, for the experience. She dropped me off south down the coast, where I knew there was a bay.
” He’d talked to Gwyn, and they’d settled on the spot where Charleston was located in his human world. “That way will become the main communication route between Greenway Court and whatever Llefelys creates in his new land.”
He paused to take another bite. “Then Mag took Rhodri and Maelgwn back with her and traveled the way she’d made to Britain, for Nos Galan Mai, and on to Gaul, when she’d visited with Llefelys and your daughter. So, there she was at Llefelys’s court, waiting for everyone to be ready, with Rhodri at her side to do the way-claiming and cleanup work, and Maelgwn trying to take it all in.”
Tegwen asked, “Couldn’t she have just gone there directly?”
“She wanted an anchor for such a long distance, someone she could focus on. She came to me once in Britain, so she knew she could do that. This time she parked me down south and went ’round the long way.”
He cocked an eyebrow at Eurig. “And, besides, she doesn’t want to just make a bunch of random ways. She wants to get value for her work.”
Eurig grinned appreciatively.
“When they were ready, she let me know.” George tapped his forehead. “I sent a messenger through the new way to Gwyn, who was standing by, and he came through in full regalia. I’d never seen all of that before!”
Gwyn had worn what George thought of as court robes, heavily jeweled, and a crown of silver that was new. Red deer antlers in miniature had been engraved along the sides, a tribute to Cernunnos whose kingdom Annwn was, though Gwyn was now its mortal king.
“When Gwyn and his court arrived, I told Mag, and she built the way across the ocean, with Rhodri right behind her, claiming it as she went, and Maelgwn behind Rhodri. Llefelys and Coronwen followed, with their court, and there was a big ceremony, the only part of which I understood was Rhodri making a gift of the master way-tokens to Morien, their scholar. Edern and Rhys were there, too, on our side.”
It had been a moment in history for these people, he knew that, and he had faded carefully back after serving as Mag’s anchor. Maelgwn had joined him, shyly. The fae were at their most unnerving then, in their formal ceremony with all the trappings of ancient custom. He didn’t recognize most of it, but he could feel the weaving of bonds between them.
The land boundaries had been worked out ahead of time for the grant to Llefelys and his people—all the land south of a terrain-based line not much north of where they were standing, running all the way west to the Mississippi, a river which none of the principals but Gwyn had seen and which they all took on faith from George’s description, and Gwyn’s recollections from his stays in the human
world. George had fetched human maps to help them base the boundaries of territory they had never surveyed. He could only hope the correspondence between the geographies of the two worlds was close enough.
“And then, of course, they just came on to Greenway Court, for the fair,” he finished.
“We’ll be getting a nice long visit from Coronwen afterward,” Tegwen told him, “while her husband returns to start setting up his new administration here.”
“It’s a shame Angharad will miss that,” he said. “She told me she’d like to see more of your daughter but she can’t travel now.”
“She’ll have her own daughter to occupy her.” Tegwen reached across the table and patted his hand.
George’s hand twitched in response. Am I ready for fatherhood, he wondered, not for the first time. For a tiny life, so vulnerable, in my hands?
Something of this must have shown on his face, for Tegwen told him quietly, “It will change everything for you. You will be woven into your family forever. These bonds can never die.”
He nodded. “I know,” he said quietly, “I believe that.” Those bonds died for my father easily enough. Not for me.
George stood at the kennel gates with all the staff, and the two judges for the puppy show, Edern, and Llefelys’s huntsman Tudur.
“One last review, everyone,” George said He ignored the patient looks they returned, worried more about possible problems than what they thought of his nerve.
“Rhian or I will handle all the transport of hounds to and from the kennels, or holding them in packs behind the enclosure. We’ll use the beast-sense to avoid any incidents when they’re exposed to the crowds.”
He waved his hands in the air to illustrate. “That means she’ll ferry the dog hound pups down to me there, and I’ll hold them while Dyfnallt handles them for the judges, with Brynach and Benitoe helping, of course.” He nodded to the two whippers-in appreciatively.
“Then Rhian will bring down the bitch pack of puppies, and I’ll give her the dogs to return, all except the winner, which I’ll hold onto. While the judges look over the bitches, Rhian will assemble the whole main pack and bring them through the curtain wall off to the side upslope, and hold them there, out of the way.”
Rhian nodded seriously, looking more professional than her years. She would spend the rest of her time at the fair in clothing more suited to the foster-daughter of Gwyn ap Nudd, but for now, she was the junior huntsman, and dressed accordingly. All the staff were attired in their most formal clothing, and the kennel coats of Ives and his two kennel-men were gleaming white.
“When the judging of the bitches is done, and the overall champion and reserve declared, I’ll leave Dyfnallt to congratulate the puppy walkers, and I’ll bring all the hounds there up the side to the curtain wall, and Rhian and I will swap packs.”
Dyfnallt rolled his eyes discreetly, and drew a glance from George.
“At least, that’s the plan, anyway,” he said, with a half-smile. “Might not go smoothly. I’ll take Brynach and Benitoe with me.”
He heard a choking sound from Benitoe and ignored it.
“I’ll wait for Rhian to come back from delivering the puppies to kennels as long as I can, and then I’ll bring the main pack over to the top of the manor steps and hold them until I can get everyone’s attention.”
He patted the short conical horn peeking out from between the buttons of his hunt coat.
“If we’re lucky, that will give Rhian a chance to join me,” he said. “We’ll run them back and forth in the open space above the booths for a moment, and then I may parade them down the main aisle into the fair.”
He took a breath. “Once Dyfnallt breaks away from the judges and joins me, I’ll turn the pack over to him at some point, and you two”—nodding at Dyfnallt and Rhian—“can finish the parade and bring them all back to kennels. And then we’ll be done.”
He turned to the kennel-master. “Ives, will you make sure all the kennel-staff have a chance to enjoy the fair? I don’t want them stuck up here while everyone else is having fun.”
“I’ve already arranged a schedule, huntsman. Everyone will get to go.”
“Good. We’re done, I guess,” George replied. His eye fell on the judges who were waiting tolerantly.
“Oh! I suppose I better tell you what’s expected.”
Another deep breath. “Like I told you before, the point is to reward the puppy walker who has raised the best hound, dog or bitch. He should be healthy, well-muscled, bold, and reasonably mannered, considering he’s about six months old. We’ve only had them back in kennels for a couple of weeks, in some cases, and they’re just starting to learn pack manners.”
He cleared his throat. “Barring emergencies, neither Rhian nor I will use the beast-sense on them inside the enclosure, and we’re not going inside ourselves. Dyfnallt will be on his own.” He smiled at the second huntsman.
“You’ll see the full dog or bitch pack, and then all you have to do is to keep indicating rejects, and we’ll pull them out of the enclosure, until you’re left with your winner. The winning dog and bitch puppies will then compete with each other for champion and reserve. Then I’ll come give you the award to hand out and speak to the crowd.”
He stopped in panic. “That’s not going to work—I’ll be holding the bitch puppies. Who can give the award?”
“How about Rhys?” Rhian suggested. “He’s got his hunting clothes here, and Gwyn will be too busy.”
George breathed again. “Good idea. Ives, can you go find him and send him to me down at the enclosure?”
What else have I forgotten, he wondered. He felt a moment’s worry about Angharad, but she had her own entourage while this was going on, with Bedo and Tegwen. Well, it wouldn’t be long, and then he’d be free to join her.
It was good to sit in the shade, Angharad thought. She and Bedo were at the front of the audience around the enclosure, and the dog hound pups were about half eliminated. Tegwen had hopes for her Leo, and was cheering him on quietly, but one of Iona’s and both of the dog hounds Maëlys had walked had already made their exits, hoisted unceremoniously out of the enclosure by Brynach to join their packmates in the small pack George held back behind the enclosure.
The excited half-grown puppies were doing their best to focus on Dyfnallt’s quiet voice, but the noise of the crowd was a sore distraction to them. Tudur walked around the hounds soberly, assessing their condition with a serious face, but Angharad caught Edern’s eye for a moment and winked at him, smiling with success when she saw him struggle to maintain his dignity as a judge.
“Come on, Dant, pay attention,” Iona intoned as her remaining contender danced in front of the patient huntsman.
“No hope,” Tegwen told her. “Look how calm my Leo is. Yours doesn’t stand a chance.”
Maëlys said, “I still fancy my luck with the bitch pack. We’ll see.”
She asked Angharad, “Are you not tired out with walking around in this heat, my lady?”
“I’ve been up for hours, seems like,” Angharad said. “It’s good to sit down and watch my husband work for a change.”
“How has the crowd been treating you, so far?” Tegwen asked.
“There are a few faces here I’m surprised at, that Lludd would not be happy to see ignoring his disapproval. They saw me last when I was doing that mural in his hall, or at Nos Galan Mai, and they’ve been very friendly. I assume Gwyn’s been making offers of some kind.”
“Oh, no!” Iona said, and they all turned in sympathy to watch Dant removed from the enclosure.
Tegwen forbore to comment, but kept an anxious eye on Leo.
Angharad continued. “The folks from the villages and the farms, they’re having a fine time. They’ve brought their children. If Gwyn does this every year, he’ll have quite a success.”
“Pardon me, my lady,” Maëlys said, “but I’ve never seen a fae with child before. I noticed some of the women lay their hands on your belly when they greet you.
Is it for good luck, that is?”
Tegwen answered for her. “Yes, good wishes for Angharad, but more for their own wishes for a child.”
It was down to two dog hound pups in the enclosure, and one of them was Leo. Tegwen urged the judges under her voice. “Don’t you dare dismiss him. When I think of all the cheeses ruined…”
Iona laughed. “Or ponies chased…”
“Or laundry trampled,” Maëlys added.
All three burst into laughter, and Angharad joined them. Bedo sat silent behind her and smiled at them all.
“What’s the joke, ladies?” Rhys walked up in full hunt livery.
“You’re looking very fine, Rhys,” Angharad said.
He bowed mockingly. “I’ve been drafted to hand out the awards. I’ll have to change afterward—Gwyn has some other uses for me today.”
He removed his tricorn and wiped the sweat off his brow. “Can’t wait to get into lighter clothes. George needs to get summer-weight livery if he plans to repeat this.”
He took a seat next to Maëlys. “I understand Karnag is growing like a well-watered weed. Cadugan keeps giving me reports, but every time I blink, it seems like they’ve added another dozen families.”
She nodded, “It’s true, my lord.”
He asked her, “Did I hear correctly from George? The Kuzul approved Benitoe’s recommendations?”
“With enthusiasm,” she said. “I won’t say he won every vote, but it was well more than he needed.”
She looked up at him earnestly. “It’s grateful we are for the loan of Cadugan’s under-steward to help us sort it out. Everyone wants to start these traveling tours immediately, but we have caravans to build, horses to buy and train, and goods to assemble. There are more families who want to go than we can possibly accommodate in the first year, so that has to be sorted out, too.”
He gave her his full attention.