The Last Pendragon (The Last Pendragon Saga Book 1)

by Sarah Woodbury

  Rhiann’s neck ached fiercely with every yard as she bounced and shook on the trotting horse’s bony shoulders. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before they crested the last hill above the sea and saw the little village of Caernarfon laid out before them on the water’s edge, half a mile away. Unfortunately, just discernable through the driving rain, were three Saxon longboats pulled up on the beach near the mouth of a river that emptied into the sea just to the south of the village.

  The men with Rhiann checked their horses at the sight while Rhiann grew lightheaded at what this might mean. She pushed up with her arms, trying to throw herself backwards off the horse, while at the same time see the boats more clearly.

  “Your father is as good as his word.” A smile of satisfaction lit Gruffydd’s face. “I will get paid today after all.”

  “Let me up,” Rhiann said.

  To her surprise, Gruffydd relented. He grasped her around the waist and effortlessly pulled her to a sitting position in front of him.

  “You’ll be warming a Saxon bed before the day is out,” Dai said.

  “Maybe more’n one,” Gruffydd said, a smirk in his voice.

  “How did you know they’d be here?” Real fear rose in Rhiann’s chest, far greater than anything she had felt during her escape from Aberffraw or her swim across the Strait.

  “They came first to Aberffraw, of course,” Gruffydd said. “Your Saxon husband-to-be, Peada, sent word yesterday evening of their arrival, shortly before the feast began. When you up and left, your father sent us after you, with the idea that they would sail here to meet us to take possession of you.”

  “Weren’t too pleased with your father to find you gone last night,” Dai said. “Thought he meant to go back on his word.”

  Thwtt.

  An arrow punched through Dai’s leather armor and into his heart. He put a hand to his chest and touched the arrow point poking through his surcoat, and then looked at Rhiann. She met his eyes. It didn’t seem possible that he could be dying right in front of her. Rhiann’s breath caught in her throat, but Dai wasn’t breathing. Slowly, he toppled off his horse.

  “Cadwallon always had the devil’s own luck!” Gruffydd said. “Damn him that his son is no different.”

  Gruffydd cursed again and swung his horse around to see Cade riding towards them down the slope from the Roman fort. Rhiann’s heart lifted at the sight him. He hadn’t abandoned her, just as he’d promised. She forced herself to focus on him instead of her fear, or Dai’s death, trying not think of anything but that Cade was here, and he was trying to save her, even if he had to kill her father’s men to do it.

  Gruffydd reached for his sword, but this time Rhiann reacted more quickly than he. Her heart pounding in her ears, she jammed her elbow into Gruffydd’s belly and clutched the hilt of his sword, determined to prevent him from drawing it. Gruffydd chose to grasp her around the waist and use her as a shield instead of pushing her hands aside, but his move came too late. Cade sent an arrow into the soft tissue below his collarbone.

  “Christ in a cart!” Gruffydd’s right arm hung useless, but his left still held Rhiann in a vice-like grip.

  Cade came to a stop some thirty yards away—easy range for a man with a bow. He was too close for either Madoc or Gruffydd to get away, but far enough from them that he was out of the reach of a thrown knife. Madoc moved his horse farther from Gruffydd and Rhiann, trying to split Cade’s attention. Cade already had a third arrow pressed into his bow and was directing Cadfan with his knees.

  “Take your hand from your sword,” Cade instructed Madoc, who obeyed, holding both hands above his head and letting his horse’s reins fall free.

  Gruffydd held Rhiann in front of him, his body stiff. “My lord. I would not have allowed her to come to harm.”

  Cade tipped his head towards the Saxons on the shore. “That looks like harm to me.”

  Gruffydd had no answer.

  “Release Rhiannon,” Cade said.

  Gruffydd obeyed, lowering Rhiann to the ground with his good arm. She ran to Cadfan. Cade removed his own foot from the stirrup to allow her a leg up, and she scrambled onto the horse behind him.

  “Did they harm you?” he said.

  “No. I’m not hurt.” Rhiann focused hard on breathing, trying to stop herself from gasping and to fight off the rushing in her ears. She bent her head forward and clutched the back of Cade’s cloak. While Cade had suddenly become someone else—a dangerous soldier as opposed to the young man she’d been traveling with, and it made her a little afraid of him—she was much more frightened of Gruffydd and the Saxons.

  “Please forgive me, my lord, and allow me to come with you,” Madoc said. “It was I who spoke to you through the door last night.”

  “Shut it, traitor,” Gruffydd said through gritted teeth.

  Thwtt! Cade’s arrow caught Gruffydd in the throat. His hands jerked up to grasp it, and then like Dai, he fell off his horse to the ground. The panicked horse raced away, followed by Dai’s. Rhiann watched them go with regret, for they could have used another horse. An instant later, Cade had pulled a fourth arrow from his quiver and aimed it at Madoc, who cleared his throat.

  “My lord. I served your father, and I would serve you.”

  “Where’s Eben?” Rhiann said, suddenly remembering that there had been four men swimming in the Strait. “Did he turn back?”

  “He’s dead. Drowned,” Madoc said.

  Hysterical laughter bubbled up in Rhiann’s chest, and she fought it down. She mustn’t lose control and distract Cade, who had remained calm throughout. He now sat silent, studying Madoc. He made an odd motion with his head, almost like he was trying to physically dismiss a thought from his mind, and then he spoke. “Why should I not shoot you too?”

  Madoc put out both hands, palms upwards in supplication. “I served Cadfael only because your mother gave him her allegiance. I had nowhere else to go. I am not innocent, true, but I was only doing my duty.”

  “Madoc did help me free you, Cade,” Rhiann said. “Your mother obviously felt she could trust him.”

  Cade turned his head to the side, trying to see both Rhiann behind him and Madoc in front. “I don’t know my mother, but I do know you. We still have some distance to ride before we reach Dinas Emrys. The terrain is difficult and the land potentially hostile as much of it remains in your father’s hands. I could use another sword.”

  “He saved me from Dai’s attentions too,” Rhiann said.

  Cade gave her a sharp look at that and then turned to Madoc. “You may come. I can use your arm if you will put it to my service.”

  Madoc dismounted at Cade’s signal and walked to Cadfan, putting a hand on the horse’s neck. Then he knelt. “I swore to serve your father until death, and I never broke that oath. I swear to serve you, my lord, in his stead.” He looked up then, just a quick glance. It was only an instant before his eyes slid away, but it was time enough for Rhiann to see something in them that made her uncomfortable—something like desire, but not—something which she couldn’t identify.

  “I accept your fealty, Madoc,” Cade said, unaware that Rhiann was having second thoughts. “Now rise and mount. Those Saxons are too close, and Cadfael may have planned other dangers for us between here and Dinas Emrys.”

  Chapter Four

  Cade

  As Cade had feared, the Saxons were none too pleased about being denied their promised prize. He’d watched them from his vantage point at the Roman fort before shooting his first arrow at Rhiann’s captors. For their part, the Saxons had seen the events on the ridge above the town and now, with some shouting and gesturing, had gathered themselves to take action. Four men had mounted and were headed inland.

  “Let’s go!” Madoc returned to his horse and turned its head towards the southeast.

  Rhiann clutched Cade’s waist as he spurred Cadfan after Madoc. “We can outrun them, can’t we?”

  “Maybe,” Cade said. “Cadfan’s tired and hungry; we all are.”

 
As if to punctuate that statement, Rhiann’s stomach growled and she pressed her hand to her belly. “My father locked me in my room with only bread and water for three days after I refused my first suitor. I can last out.”

  Cade’s expression turned even more grim, aware as she was that she didn’t have a choice, but also knowing, as perhaps she didn’t, that there was a significant difference between sitting hungrily in one’s room, staring out the window in righteous indignation after being misused by one’s father, and riding half-way across Gwynedd without food.

  “I’m sorry I made you wait to eat the apples,” he said.

  “Do you still have them?”

  “You’re sitting on them. After Madoc and the other men captured you, I set your horse free, but not before I transferred your saddle and bags to Cadfan. I would have kept your horse too, but I didn’t want to be burdened with both animals, especially as I didn’t know how far I’d have to go to find you.”

  Cade slowed Cadfan, who’d begun to labor under their combined weight, and checked the road behind. He couldn’t see any Saxons, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

  “We need to hide, not outrun them,” Cade called to Madoc.

  “They can’t know the area well, my lord.” Madoc shifted in his seat to look back at Rhiann and Cade. “They should soon give up.”

  “Not soon enough,” Cade said under his breath to Rhiann. “Saxons never do.”

  They’d ridden a mile from the Roman fort when they reached the Seiont River. It circumscribed Caernarfon, and whether they’d taken the other road due south or this one, which ran southeast, they would have had to cross it. The river was running high from the all rain but looked passable.

  “I was able to ford it a week ago,” Cade told Madoc and Rhiann.

  When Cade and his men had come this way from Dinas Emrys, they’d scouted up and down the bank, looking for a usable ford besides the one at the road, but there were none. Dangerous rapids flowed only a few yards upstream, and the river widened downstream, deepening as it made its way to the sea.

  “Not again,” Rhiann moaned from her seat behind Cade.

  “It’s not like you can get any wetter than you are now,” Cade said. The rain dripped off the hood of his cloak and onto his face.

  “I’ll go across first,” Madoc said. “No point getting the lady wet before she needs to be.”

  Cade nodded, and Madoc entered the water. He splashed his way across and up the other side.

  “There’s a dip in the middle you’ll need to watch for,” he said, “but if you skirt that rock, you should be fine.”

  Rhiann sighed. “All right; I’m ready,” though she didn’t sound it.

  Cade urged Cadfan forward, trying to hurry but aware that one misstep might cause him to lose his footing and send all of them into the water. It took no time at all to cross. As they came up the opposite bank, Cade chanced a look back. Two of the four Saxon warriors were now in sight on the road behind them. Madoc noted them too.

  “My lord!” he said in warning.

  “I see them.” Cade pulled his bow from its rest on his back. Cadfan danced sideways, responding to Cade’s tension. Fortunately, Saxons are not archers as a rule, and these two were no exception.

  “I need you to dismount, Rhiann, and hide,” Cade said. “You’re safer in the woods where they’ll have to hunt to find you if they get past me.”

  “I understand, my lord.” She slid to the ground.

  Trusting that Rhiann would know enough to make herself secure, Cade pulled an arrow from his quiver, pressed it into the bow and loosed it. The first arrow took the lead rider’s horse in the chest and the second went through the rider’s own heart. The other Saxon checked his horse at the sight of what had happened to his companion. In the time it took Cade to press and loose another arrow, he flattened himself to his horse’s neck so Cade didn’t have an easy target. Cade’s arrow caught the Saxon high in the shoulder. It was a hit that would slow him, but not stop him.

  Rather than give Cade another chance, the Saxon pulled on the reins, urging his horse to change course, and head for the field to the left of the road. He was looking for shelter, but he wasn’t going to find it soon enough to evade Cade. He was only a hundred yards from the ford now, easy shooting for a Welsh archer. Cade pressed another arrow, sure he could bring the man down, but then Madoc broke from his posting at Cade’s side. He pushed his horse down the bank and into the river, his sword raised high.

  Cade shook his head at the waste of energy and focused again on the Saxon, releasing his fourth arrow. It hit the Saxon’s horse in the neck. The horse stumbled, and the Saxon leapt from his back. Madoc, meanwhile, covered the distance between the ford and the Saxon within a count of ten. The Saxon, with his sword arm useless and his horse down, didn’t have a chance. Madoc launched himself at the Saxon, his hands going for his throat. The man feebly tried to fend him off, but the force of Madoc’s leap was too much for him to counter, and he fell to the ground beneath the Welshman.

  Madoc’s horse blocked Cade’s view of the two men, and Cade craned his neck to see beyond it. “What are you doing?”

  Madoc didn’t reply.

  Cade knew he had shouted loud enough for Madoc to hear, even over the rushing of the river. Irritated with his own slowness, Cade finally admitted what his gut already knew. He cursed himself for not heeding his instincts about Madoc from the first. His only excuse was that the rain had dulled his senses at their initial meeting and he’d been distracted by Rhiann. “We don’t have time for this!”

  Madoc still didn’t answer, but his horse shifted, revealing Madoc’s form bent over the body of the Saxon. Blood had seeped from the man’s wounds onto the ground. Then, Madoc straightened, wiped the back of a hand across his mouth, and began to paw through the Saxon’s clothing. He pulled a sack from the man’s waist, along with his belt knife. Stuffing the items into his saddlebags, Madoc hauled himself into the saddle and rode back to Cade. He splashed across the ford and up the bank.

  Cade studied Madoc as he reached him, although Madoc didn’t meet his gaze. Instead, he pulled the Saxon’s pouch from his scrip and handed it to Cade.

  “I was gathering evidence, my lord,” he said.

  “Of what?”

  “King Cadfael’s bargain,” he said. “If you are to press your claim to the throne of Gwynedd, some Saxon artifacts may strengthen your case before the Council and confirm Cadfael’s treachery.”

  “I plan to take the throne over Cadfael’s dead body,” Cade said. “Between you and Rhiann, we have witnesses enough to Cadfael’s plans. Still, I grant your point.”

  Madoc looked relieved, and Cade didn’t press him, willing to defer the moment when he’d have to confront the man. Now, Cade turned Cadfan and headed up the trail to a likely spot where Rhiann might have entered the woods. “Rhiann!”

  “I’m here, Cade.” She dropped from the branch of a tree growing a dozen feet into the woods. She was even grimier than before. Leaves had caught in her hair, which had come loose from its braid. Dirt smudged her forehead and cheek and coated her already wet clothing. To Cade, she appeared more beautiful than ever.

  “Come quickly,” he said. “We’ve killed two of the Saxons, but we don’t know where the others are. They could have taken the second road from Caernarfon or backtracked to find us here.”

  “How long do you think they’ll look for us?” she said.

  Without second-guessing the impulse to touch her, Cade leaned down to give her his arm so she could mount Cadfan. She grasped his forearm, and he pulled her up behind him, before urging the horse up the road. “Either they’ll find their dead friends and it will enrage them so they’ll pursue us for hours, or they’ll cut their losses and give up. I’d prefer to get as far away from here as possible to a place where they will no longer be our concern.”

  They rode a mile without speaking, the only sound the clopping of the horses’ hooves and the rain on their hoods. Then Rhiann said, “
Can I have an apple? It’s all I can think of.”

  “Of course,” Cade said.

  Rhiann rummaged in the saddle bag and came out with two apples. She turned to Madoc and held one out to him but he shook his head.

  “Save them for yourself, Lady Rhiann,” he said. “I’m not hungry now.”

  Cade shook his head too when Rhiann offered one to him. She shrugged, took a big bite, and gave a huge sigh. Then she leaned her forehead into Cade’s back between his shoulder blades. He couldn’t suppress a smile at her obvious contentment, even as he trembled at her closeness. He had touched her, and she him, a dozen times since they’d met. Already it was almost a habit, but one Cade knew he couldn’t get used to. The deep well of dangerous energy at his center—the power that he fought with all his strength—wasn’t going to go away.

  “How far do we have to go?” Rhiann took another bite. She’d already finished off one of the apples and, after tossing the first core into the woods, started in on the second.

  “Fifteen miles,” Cade said.

  “How close by were you when Dai captured me?”

  “Close enough,” Cade said. “I was on my way back to you, having seen no one, when I heard your call. I trailed you onto the Roman road and then took a path to the east—a shortcut that brought me into Caernarfon more quickly than by the road. By then, I knew there were only three of them. I would not have let your father’s men harm you, but I needed to know how many I faced before I showed myself.”

  “I know,” she said, “but I was scared.”

  “I would that you were never scared again,” Cade said, “but I cannot promise it.”

  Rhiann hugged Cade around the waist, still resting against him. “I’ve seen men die before, but never like that; never right in front of me.”

  His jaw was tight with the effort it took to control himself—and the thought of how close she’d come to real harm. Cade pressed his hand to hers. “The priest tells me thou shalt not kill and yet I’ve already killed more men in my life than I care to remember. And I will kill many more.”