Rise of the Pendragon (Islands in the Mist Book 3)

by J. M. Hofer

“Aaaach,” Irwyn said as gently as his rough speech could manage. “No crying, magath.”

  It was not long before they were spotted. Arhianna anxiously watched a rider approach, straining to make out his features. “Gareth!” she exclaimed after a moment. She recognized the way he rode. She looked over at Irwyn and grinned.

  “Go, girl! Go to your brother.”

  She kicked her horse in the flanks and took off, throwing her hood back and letting her hair spill out so Gareth would recognize her.

  “Arhianna!” came floating to her upon the wind.

  She and Gareth were soon together, jumping down from their horses.

  “Gods be good!” Gareth gasped in her ear as he grabbed her. “We’ve been so worried! First Jørren, now Amlawth—we’ve been watching the road for days. Father sent Neirin and a search party out to find you.”

  Arhianna’s stomach dropped. “Jørren was here?” Could the old woman have meant Jørren was hunting me? No. Jørren would never hurt me. She thought of the night he had struck her and winced. Still, he would never try to kill me!

  Gareth nodded. “We had no idea you were in Kent. He was certain we were hiding you. We tried to convince him we weren’t, but he wouldn’t believe us.”

  Arhianna’s heart plummeted from its flight. “When was this?”

  “A few weeks ago.”

  “And? What else did he say? Where did he go?”

  Gareth’s face darkened. Arhianna knew that look well. He had something to say but did not want to tell her. “What? Tell me!”

  “He didn’t tell us where he was going.”

  “And?” Arhianna felt heat rising up the back of her neck. “What did he say? Exactly?”

  Gareth held up his hands, motioning for her to calm down. “He was furious. He thought we were hiding you—that you didn’t want to see him. I’m sure that’s why he said what he did—he didn’t mean it.”

  “Tell me,” Arhianna demanded, her stomach curdling with dread. “His exact words, Gareth.”

  Gareth took a deep breath. “He said...”

  “What? Just tell me!”

  “He said to tell you…you were dead to him.”

  Arhianna felt as if she had just been stabbed. The color drained out of the world around her, like blood spilling from her wounded heart. This isn’t how it was supposed to be.

  “What happened?” Gareth asked after a moment. “Why did you leave?”

  Her thoughts were reeling. No, Jørren—you were supposed to come and live here, with me—away from Hengist! She shook her head, refusing to cry. “It doesn’t matter,” she managed to croak. Before Gareth could ask again, she changed the subject. “Lord Amlawth made it here, then, I assume?”

  “Yes. He’s here. Said you lived with his family through the winter and he was bringing you home, but, for some reason, you went your own way at Caer Glou. For the last time, what happened?”

  Arhianna pulled her cowl back over her head. “I’ll explain later—but he and his men can’t know I’m here.”

  Gareth’s countenance darkened. “Dammit, Arhianna—what the hell is going on? He’s in the motherhouse right now, worried sick. The poor man feels responsible for you.”

  Arhianna felt guilty. “I think one of his men might wish me ill. I don’t know for certain, though. Tell him I’m safe, but he must keep this to himself. In fact…” Arhianna’s mind began spinning a web to trap her hunter.

  Irwyn caught up to them and scowled. “Why such faces? Are you not happy to see one another?”

  “Yes.”

  “She says she may be in trouble,” Gareth explained.

  “Ah. Yes, she believes she may be.”

  “Well, what do you want to do, then?” Gareth asked, glancing at Arhianna, back at the village, and then back to her.

  Arhianna grabbed Gareth’s hand. “Speak to Mother and Father privately. Tell them I’m here and I’m safe, but neither Amlawth nor any of his men can know where I am.” She then turned to Irwyn. “Give Gareth time to talk to our parents, and then go to the village. Say you’ve come to tell them I’m safe in Gwythno. This way, if someone is hunting me…”

  Irwyn deduced her plan. “He’ll go looking for you there.”

  Arhianna nodded. “Exactly.”

  Gareth gave a nod of approval. “Settled, then. Go to the edge of the forest and wait on the path to the grove. I’ll send Mother to meet you there after I speak with her. She can take you to stay with Islwyn and Taliesin until Amlawth leaves.”

  “Taliesin?” Her heart leapt.

  Gareth smiled. “He’s here—I wanted to surprise you.”

  It was Irwyn, however, who looked the most shocked by the news. “Since when?”

  “Not long.”

  Irwyn looked at the sky, murmured something in Saxon, and looked back at Gareth. “I must tell Elffin at once.”

  Gareth shook his head. “You won’t have to. He’s planning to leave for Gwythno in a few days. You can travel back together.”

  A satisfied smile spread across Irwyn’s face. “Good, good. His father will be pleased.”

  Gareth knit his brow. “I must warn you, both, though—he’s changed quite a bit. None of us recognized him when he arrived. His complexion is much darker, and he’s grown a beard.”

  Arhianna laughed. “You must be joking.” She could not picture Taliesin with a beard. And a dark complexion? That was even less believable.

  Gareth shook his head, his expression unchanged. “I’m not.”

  “You mean to tell me he’s grown a beard? Like yours?”

  Gareth had grown a very handsome beard. It was full and dark, setting off Gareth’s woody-brown eyes, but it was still Gareth—there was no question about that.

  “Yes, but darker.”

  “Darker?” Arhianna could not imagine it, and the idea made her uneasy. Even Irwyn looked unnerved. She changed the subject. “Remember how scared you were that you would never be able to grow one? I used to catch you rubbing your chin all the time.”

  “I remember.” Gareth smiled. “Well, it’s not a worry anymore. Just the contrary. I can scarcely keep it from growing down to my chest.”

  “Good,” she praised. “Well, I’d like to see for myself just how much he’s changed.”

  “He’ll be thrilled to see you.”

  “We should go,” Irwyn said, looking toward the village. “Someone will notice us here.”

  Gareth nodded. “Yes. Go. Give me until sundown to tell my mother what’s happened, then come with your message.”

  Irwyn gave him a nod. “Understood.” He escorted Arhianna to the edge of the trees. He stayed with her and they watched the sun set together. When the last of its curve disappeared below the horizon, he put a hand on her shoulder, gave it a squeeze, and mounted his horse. “Stay safe.”

  Arhianna nodded in farewell. “You as well.” She watched him ride into the village to deliver the bait she hoped her unknown hunter would take.

  ***

  An hour passed. Arhianna sat crouched in the cover of the trees, shifting uncomfortably. What’s happened? What’s wrong? Why hasn’t she come? Perhaps Gareth and Irwyn’s plan had failed. Perhaps someone had recognized her on the road, and now they were caught in a lie. She saw the torches of the village wink into view and heard faint voices in the air but could not make out anything anyone was saying. She was about to try and find the grove herself, when footsteps crunched nearby. She gasped and whirled around to behold her mother’s silhouette.

  “Shhhh, it’s me, Daughter.”

  “Mother?” She reached out and clutched at the shadow in front of her. They stood under the vigil of the trees, silently embracing, and Arhianna realized she was now nearly a head taller than her mother. It felt strange, her womanhood suddenly foreign to her.

  “You’ve grown so tall,” her mother whispered, giving voice to Arhianna’s thoughts.

  A wave of relief washed over her. She isn’t angry anymore. Her relief was quickly followed by remorse for the pai
n she had caused her to endure. “Mother, forgive me for what I did to you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “No, no. It’s forgotten. I’m just happy you’re home. Now, follow me.” She led the way into the trees, as undaunted as a cat in the darkness. Once they were deep in the woods, where no one in the village could see them, she lit a lantern and held it up. “Let me look at you.”

  Arhianna was eager to see her mother’s face as well, and they stood regarding one another a moment in the warm light of the lantern. Her mother smiled at her and caressed her cheek. “You have the face of a woman, now.” She gave her a sad smile. “I’ve been so worried about you.” Her smile withered. “Now, what’s this about you being in trouble?”

  “I’m not certain. I had a vision. An old woman came to me.” She shuddered as she recalled the old woman’s words. “She said I was being hunted.”

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Well, your husband came looking for you here, not very long ago. Could that have been who she meant?”

  Arhianna shook her head. “Possibly, but why would she use the word hunted? Jørren may be searching for me, but he wouldn’t try to kill or capture me. Besides, the old woman said, ‘a snake slithers among Amlawth’s men.’ She said one of them would betray me. Jørren wasn’t with us.”

  “I see. We’ll find out what’s happening. Let’s go and speak with Islwyn and Taliesin.” She held out her hand, and Arhianna took it. She felt like a young girl again, safe by her mother’s side.

  “Now, tell me everything else. How long were you in Kent?”

  Arhianna sighed, the events of the past few years sliding toward her like an avalanche. “So much has happened, Mother—I don’t know where to start.”

  “Start with your husband. What happened? Do you have children?”

  “No, no children…” Arhianna felt her throat tighten, thinking of how much she had longed to give him a child. The gods had not granted her one. Perhaps they knew I would leave him. Now, it won’t ever happen. She swallowed hard before continuing. “I left him.”

  She waited for her mother to respond, but she said nothing.

  “Do you know, the clan decided to abandon their home, after all, and sail for Kent?” She laughed at the irony. “I was so angry with Jørren for choosing to follow Hengist, a snake who served a snake, instead of going with Father.”

  “So you sailed over with them,” her mother concluded.

  “Yes. Hengist gave us land in Thanet.” Arhianna thought of the village they had built and the good soil. She thought again of Jørren and the bed they shared. Another shard of regret stabbed her in the stomach. “It was good land, and if we had been free to lead our own lives, I know we would have been happy there…and had children...” She trailed off, picturing Jørren’s face the night she left him.

  “No one is truly free to lead their own life. We all answer to someone.”

  Arhianna nodded, thinking of Jørren’s hopeless position. “It seems we do.”

  “So, why did you leave?”

  “Ambrius. I’m sure you heard what happened there. Hengist insisted Jørren ride with him. I told him if he did, I would leave.”

  “Oh, gods.”

  “May Hengist rot and burn!” Arhianna cried to the sky. At least when she felt angry, she could not weep. “Coward! To murder your guests, as they sit as brothers beside you, offering their trust, sharing food and drink? Is there anything viler?”

  Her mother shook her head. “Not much. Only the most wicked of men could sleep after having done such a thing. The bards sing of this tragedy as the Night of the Long Knives. We women pray for Hengist to meet the fate he deserves, and our men pray to have a hand in it.”

  Arhianna felt encouraged and looked over at her mother. “So, now you understand.” She looked back down at the trail just in time to avoid stepping on a circle of mushrooms. “I didn’t want to leave. I pleaded with him to stay. I told him we could bring the clan here and start a new life, but he wouldn’t come. He insisted he had no choice—that we owed Hengist for our land and our food and that he had pledged him his full obedience and fealty.”

  “So you left him.”

  Arhianna could not tell if she were hearing criticism or simply surprise in her mother’s voice. “Yes.” She stopped a moment to regain her composure, looking up at the moon through an opening in the tree canopy. “I miss him. I wish this hadn’t happened.”

  Arhianna noticed the night insects and birds had come alive all around them. Occasionally, an owl would hoot nearby, or a deer would rustle through the underbrush.

  “Of course, you do—you love him. He was your first. You always will. Now, finish your story. How did you meet Amlawth?”

  Arhianna took a deep breath. “I took the road to Caer Lundein, and from there to Calleva to call upon Rufus, the merchant Father trades with. I knew he would give me room and board until I could get a message to you. In his shop, I met Lord Amlawth, who happened to be buying one of Gareth’s swords. I told him I was the sister of the blacksmith who had forged his sword and was on my way home. I found out he was on his way to Ambrius. Of course, I warned him not to go. After some discussion, he insisted I ride home with his daughter and pass the winter with his family in Dumnonia. He promised he would escort me home in the spring, so I agreed. He went on to Ambrius to warn as many as he could, but he arrived too late to save any but Eldol, the Duke of Caer Glou, whom he met upon the road. He’d been delayed as well.”

  “They must yet have parts to play in the Great Mother’s plan. As you do.”

  Arhianna noticed the smell of smoke and the faint sounds of men’s voices singing in the air. She stopped in her tracks. “Do you hear that?”

  Her mother turned around. “Yes. Almost there.”

  Arhianna’s heart beat faster. Is Taliesin really as changed as Gareth says? She could not imagine him the way her brother had described. She was still trying to get used to the way her brother looked. When they last saw one another, they had just begun peering into the world of men and women.

  Within a few minutes they reached the grove. There was smoke rising up through the roof of the hut and the smell of something cooking.

  “Queen Lucia?” an old voice called. “Is that you?”

  “Yes. I’ve someone with me I’m certain you’ll both be glad to see.”

  Islwyn threw back the furs covering the doorway, followed closely by a young man. Arhianna’s heart fluttered as he spied her and smiled.

  “Gods be praised, lass!” Islwyn exclaimed. “We’ve been so worried!”

  Taliesin said nothing. He simply walked up to her and embraced her, clutching her hair with his fingers. When he pulled away, she looked up at his face and stared, searching for her childhood friend. “Taliesin? Is that really you?”

  He nodded. “Yes. It’s me.”

  She shook her head, feeling a bit dizzy. He was taller. Darker. More muscular. Even his smell had changed. He was…a man. Conflicting emotions fought within her breast, creating a strange brew of excitement and melancholy flavored with the faint taste of betrayal. “What’s happened to you?”

  He let out a laugh that sounded as if it had been blown through reed pipes. Dark, woody and sensuous, it hurled her feelings into a disorienting storm.

  He pulled her tight against him. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” she managed to coax from her dry throat. But, it’s not you. Where is my Taliesin?

  As if Islwyn sensed her turmoil, he said, “Come, child! Let me see you!”

  She stood in front of Islwyn as he looked her up and down, beaming at her. “Gods, you’ve become a beauty!” He winked. “Now, come and eat with us, both of you lovely young ladies.” He pulled back the furs over the door and ushered them inside.

  Once they were settled, Islwyn clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “I believe this occasion calls for some mead.” He gave them an eager smile that made him look twenty years younger.

  Arhianna let out a sigh
. “Oh, yes, please.” The last few hours had been more difficult than she had expected. A cup of mead sounded more than welcome.

  Islwyn handed out cups, gave them all a generous pour, and held his cup aloft. “To Arhianna’s return!”

  “To Arhianna’s return,” Taliesin and her mother said in unison.

  They all drank. Soon, the warm fire and sweet wine worked their soothing magic on Arhianna’s nerves.

  Islwyn reached over and patted her hand. “Now, dear girl. Tell us your tale.”

  Arhianna recounted the events of the past few years for the second time that night, stealing glances at Taliesin when he was not looking. She relayed as many details about her encounter with the old woman as she could remember, hoping Islwyn or Taliesin could give her some insight on the matter. After she finished her tale, however, both of them remained silent.

  She raised her eyebrows at Taliesin. “Well? What do you think?”

  He studied the dying flames in the firepit a long time before he answered. “Who knows about your Firebrand?”

  She shrugged. “Many do. Jørren and our clan, and everyone here at home.”

  “And now, Amlawth’s men have witnessed it, too.”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded. “The Firebrand is a powerful weapon, Arhianna. Is it possible someone might have told Hengist or Vortigern about it?”

  She thought a moment. “Well, I’m sure you remember there were some within the clan who disapproved of Jørren taking me for his wife.”

  “Yes, but they seemed to have accepted it with time.”

  She shook her head. “When Jørren decided to sail for Kent, it became very clear there were still a few who didn’t trust me.”

  Her terrible habit of arguing with Jørren in front of the clan had not helped matters. She thought of Ragna’s efforts to champion her and cringed. Ragna had defended her as fiercely as a mother bear to those who doubted her loyalty—even more so than Jørren. I let her down. I let them all down. They were right not to trust me. I did exactly what they expected I’d do. I betrayed my husband.

  “So, then, is it possible?” Taliesin asked again, pulling her out of her self-flagellation.

  She nodded absently as she thought back on the week she had spent as a guest in Hengist’s hall. Her heart thumped as she pictured the stone faces of the mercenaries he employed, adrenalin curdling her stomach as if a loud noise had just jolted her from a deep sleep. Her idea of pretending to be in Gwythno now seemed a foolish game. What if something happens to Elffin? Or Irwyn? I could never forgive myself. “I’m afraid I may be putting Gwythno in danger,” she whispered, eyes darting between her listeners. Irwyn had surely delivered her false message to Amlawth and his men by now.