by Myers, Karen
He was decently dressed in his spare clothing and felt invigorated by his brief nap, but he couldn’t shake the feeling in his sore muscles of killing Scilti. The sensations were imprinted on his body, and made him uncomfortable—not horror exactly, since Scilti had deserved death, but a sort of revulsion that he had needed to do it in that way, something that would haunt him. Why couldn’t it have been a clean sword thrust?
Llefelys and Coronwen occupied simple chairs while everyone else seated themselves on low camp seats or on rugs on the ground. Chairs had been found for Gwyn and Edern, too, and George was reminded that his great-grandfather was a king now, in his own right. His face was free of the tension George had noted in it, still grave and dignified, but calm. His right hand was bare, the marks of the thunderbolt on the back of it visible for all to see.
There was a constant flow of visitors from the encampments gathered at Gwastadedd Mawr that night. Ceridwen and Morien were chatting with some of their colleagues, and it seemed to George that annual business of various kinds was being transacted.
A knot of some of the huntsmen that George had met on his hunting tour had gathered to wait for his appearance, and they came to greet him as he walked into the firelight with Angharad, and to congratulate him on the survival of his pack.
Gwyn asked them if they would be staying until the morning, and each affirmed it.
“Then come to us with your lords at mid-morning,” he told them. He called a servant over and spoke to him quietly before sending him on an errand.
George looked on with curiosity, and Gwyn explained, “I’ve invited a few others to join us tomorrow morning, those allies to whom I promised whelps from the hounds of Annwn.”
Seething Magma and Gravel had their own spot in the circle around the fire, and George took Angharad by the hand to settle there. Mag formed a backrest for him on the ground, careful not to touch anyone else, and George did the same for Angharad, letting her lean back against his knees. Maelgwn sat cross-legged in front of them both. Imp walked down Mag’s body until he reached George’s left shoulder, and settled there.
Seething Magma spoke quietly to Angharad. “Your bud seems to be coming along well.”
“Yes, indeed,” she said. “Starting to demand attention.”
“I can feel both of you in her,” Mag said. “How strange that is, for two heritages to intertwine like that. Unpredictable. It’s simpler for us.”
“You said ‘her,’ Mag?” Angharad asked.
“As far as I understand these matters.”
George’s eyes widened as he overheard. A girl, he thought. I’m going to have a daughter. He reached for Angharad’s hand over her shoulder and squeezed it.
Bleddyn entered the firelight with Angharad’s room servant. This must be her new apprentice, he thought. Angharad introduced Bedo, and he stood there shyly in this company of kings, a simple pack upon his back.
“Is that all you’re bringing?” Angharad said.
“It’s all I have, my lady.”
“You are very welcome, regardless,” she said. “Is he not, my lord king?”
Gwyn smiled on him. “She’s welcome to whomever she chooses,” he said.
Angharad leaned back against George. “Shall he stay in our spare room? Apprentices typically live with their masters.”
“Whatever you like,” he said. “Until our family grows enough to make that impossible.” He lifted his head and smiled at Bedo in welcome, and Bedo ducked his head.
Maelgwn patted the rug on the ground next to him, and Bedo joined him. “You’ll be across the hall from me,” Maelgwn said, “but I’m almost grown up now. I come of age in a few months.”
George lamented to Angharad, “I’m sorry to miss the mural I’ve heard so much about.”
She laughed. “It was done in haste. I’ll show you the master drawing sometime.”
Gwyn overheard and described it for Llefelys and Coronwen. He had them laughing at the end.
Angharad called over, “Do you suppose he’ll ever pay the bills for it?”
“If it’s not whitewashed by tomorrow,” Gwyn said, “I’ll pay the fee myself. Seems a shame.”
Angharad smiled placidly. “It served its purpose. He can do what he pleases with it—the story won’t be so easily suppressed.”
Servants passed around wooden platters with a late supper of meats, bread, and cheeses, and kept their mugs filled. George watched quietly while he ate. Brynach was deep in conversation with Coronwen, his cousin, and Rhian was speaking earnestly to Gwyn and Edern. George had a suspicion about the topic in both cases.
The hounds dozed behind the ring of people around the fires, and George kept his attention loosely on them, to make sure they steered clear of Mag and Gravel. Ives, Benitoe, and Dyfnallt had seen them fed from the stores they brought with them in the wagon, and every now and then one would appear in the firelight and settle down briefly with someone, hoping for a bit more.
Eventually everyone had eaten, and the servants gathered the platters and restored order. George thought it must be midnight or so. Imp crawled down from his shoulder and settled in his lap where George kept a hand on him, rubbing his neck and stroking his cheeks with a finger.
Llefelys raised a hand for silence, and the quiet conversations ceased.
“It is time to hear about many things, but most especially about the miraculous existence of the hounds of Annwn. How is it they are alive, and even Cernunnos was unaware?”
Gwyn raised his head and looked at Dyfnallt, who was nonplussed to be singled out in this way. “I imagine you know more of this tale than most, huntsman. Let the hunt staff stand forward and tell their story.”
George watched amused as Dyfnallt, thus urged by the King of Gaul and the new King of Annwn, rose from his seat on the ground, swallowed hard and began the tale.
“Great lords,” he said, “please understand that I was urged to this posting by my own lord Cuhelyn. He did me the honor of asking if I wished it, which I did.” He nodded to George. “But then he spoke loosely about how this would serve the advancement of my family, and so I realized it was not what it seemed.”
“That said,” he continued, “he never made known to me any specific wish and so I hoped there would be no occasion for my honor to be compromised. But then I met Gwion at the Travelers’ Way, and saw his clear assumption that we would be allies, and he with particular plans, and my heart sank. He boasted of rewards to come from Lludd.
“I tried to avoid Gwion as much as I could. When finally he approached me on the evening of the fire, I couldn’t stomach his hint at the destruction of the kennels and told Ives what I feared might happen.”
Ives stood up to continue the tale. “I took Dyfnallt’s warning seriously and brought it to Eurig, but Eurig and Hadyn were then distracted with the attempt on the master tokens, and he dispatched me to see to it myself. The kennel-men had already left, and so I snagged Benitoe and Brynach. We didn’t know what the details of the assault were and we thought to keep a silent watch. Even so, it was Maelgwn who first brought us the news, from the outside.”
At his gesture, the boy got to his feet. “At Eurig’s suggestion I was keeping an eye on the new huntsmen.” He nodded apologetically at Dyfnallt, who waved it off unconcernedly. “That night, it was Gwion. I saw him leave the kennels by the huntsman’s alley, and that wasn’t normal. As soon as he was far enough away not to see me I ran up to my foster-father’s office and found it in flames, so I raised the alarm to Ives and we all tried to stop the fire.” His voice fell. “But we couldn’t.”
Dyfnallt resumed the story. “I had been watching the kennels to see what Gwion intended, and so I hammered at the kennel gates as soon as I smelled smoke. Benitoe, Brynach, Maelgwn, and I each scooped up a litter in whatever sacks we could find and leashed the dams, and then we released the pack and led them out of the kennels before the fire spread to their pens. I must tell you, huntsman, Brynach distinguished himself—the picture of him with a sack of
puppies over his shoulder and their dam on a lead, beating back flame to let hounds escape is not one I will soon forget.”
All heads turned to Brynach who blushed and looked at the ground.
Ives said, “Maelgwn had an idea of where to take them, where they’d be safe.”
“Bellemore,” Maelgwn said. “I thought no one would find us there. All we had to do was get them out the front gates to the Guests’ Way.”
George felt Angharad kick her foster-son surreptitiously. Gwyn’s estate in the human world was not widely known, and its entry via the Guests’ Way was hidden.
Without a bobble, Maelgwn reduced the detail to just that amount necessary to tell the story without giving away any secrets, even among friends.
“So we brought them there on foot, and Ives stayed behind to tell Eurig.”
Ives said to Gwyn, “Eurig was never able to send you that message, my lord. By then Gwion had escaped and…”
“And Lludd had shut the door on the Travelers’ Way,” Gwyn finished.
“And my own dogs?” George asked.
“They were with Alun that night,” Ives answered.
Gwyn asked Maelgwn directly, “What happened when you got to Bellemore?”
Maelgwn looked back at George who nodded. If Gwyn wanted this known, that was his decision to make.
“It was late at night, and here we were with twenty or so couple of hounds in the dark. Not to mention all the squirming pups. Benitoe knocked on Mariah Catlett’s back door, and when she turned on the lights, you should have seen Brynach and Dyfnallt jump. She came out and looked us over, in her nightclothes, and then calm as you please she dressed and called my foster-father’s grandfather out of bed.
“He came over and together they opened the Bellemore stables. We bedded the hounds down in groups in the horse stalls in nice fresh hay, and the dams with their whelps, too. Then we each claimed a stall for ourselves, not long before dawn.”
Brynach stood up. “Your grandfather was splendid, sir,” he said to George. “He brought over horses in the morning, in a trailer. Benitoe told us about cars.”
Benitoe smiled, experienced human world traveler that he was.
“He even found a pony for Benitoe, and one for Maelgwn.”
George could tell by Benitoe’s grimace that his pony wasn’t what he was used to. He cocked an eyebrow at him.
Benitoe growled, “Some human child is getting a mount back that has been cured of at least some of its vices.”
Dyfnallt finished up. “We decided it was safer for the hounds to keep them there rather than bring them back, at least for a while.”
Gwyn nodded in approval.
George cleared his throat and told them. “Cernunnos couldn’t find them. He thought they had all died, and therefore so did we.”
There was a moment of appalled silence.
“Oh, no,” Benitoe said. “We had no idea. How horrible.”
There was silence for a moment.
Ceridwen said, “So only the records were destroyed. And the oliphant.” She turned to Gwyn. “Can the great hunt continue without it?”
Before Gwyn could reply, Ives interrupted. “But it’s not lost, my lady. The week after you all left, leaving the two new huntsmen behind, Alun and I brought a plan to Eurig. We constructed covers for the cases with the records, as though to protect them. But in reality, Alun and I labored for days to transport everything out of there without being seen, and the locked covers hid empty shelves. We didn’t know what precautions we could take, but that one seemed obvious.”
Maelgwn added, “They brought the oliphant, too. I got to hold it.”
“What, everything?” George said, astonished.
“Even your current hunt log,” Ives replied.
“But where did you put it all?” Ceridwen asked.
Ives and Maelgwn looked at each other and Ives gave the nod to Maelgwn to answer.
“In our library, at home,” he said to his foster-father. “We had to stuff it all in there and then keep the doors closed whenever anyone came by.”
Ceridwen started to laugh, and George joined her.
Ives continued. “You gave us problems, huntsman,” he said to Dyfnallt. “You kept looking for Alun to help you with something or other, and there he was trying to smuggle books out without you, or anyone else, knowing.”
“He certainly fooled me. I had a project going with him, but then he suddenly stopped and I feared I had offended him somehow,” Dyfnallt said.
“What sort of project?” George asked.
“I make wood carvings, a sort of hobby. Nothing like her work, of course,” he said, nodding at Angharad, “but it gives me pleasure. Alun carves, too, and he loaned me tools from the workshop in your house, Iolo’s tools.” He looked at the ground, then raised his eyes to George. “I was making a portrait of Dando for you. I hoped someday to be gifted with a draft pair of hounds, and that was to be my exchange gift.”
Gwyn proclaimed, “You are welcome, Dyfnallt, in my domain and under my roof for as long as you care to stay. You and any of your family.” He glanced at George.
“Stay forever, if you like,” George added, “with my gratitude.”
Gwyn nodded in agreement.
Llefelys asked, “So, how did you bring the hounds of Annwn back? What of the rock-wights?”
Maelgwn said, “I returned the next day through the Huntsman’s Way, and left a message for Thomas Kethin to meet me at the overhang. You know,” he said to George, “the one that looks down into Greenway Court.”
George waved him on.
“Thomas brought Rhodri and Eurig, and we made plans.” He looked over at Rhodri who carried the tale along.
“Eurig wanted to reach Gwyn with the news about the hounds, but the Family Way was blocked by rubble and the Travelers’ Way was barred. He could have cleared the kennels, of course, but he decided to leave it alone to deceive Lludd, to let him think Gwion’s attack had worked. We couldn’t be sure there weren’t other spies, and perhaps they might have been able to get a message through the Travelers’ Way without our knowing it. So we kept it all a secret.
“The problem was,” Rhodri said to Gwyn, “we had no way to reach you. So I thought about how Seething Magma had targeted a way to George in the orchard, and told her everything, to see if she might be able to find him here, and wanted to. Mag?”
Seething Magma rumbled, “I could find George, but few of us have created ways that long. We wanted to help.”
George said, “But you’re both claimed. That’s not Rhodri, is it?”
“We own ourselves,” Mag said, with pride.
George turned a puzzled look on Rhodri.
“That’s what I realized when Llefelys spoke about the master-token that day,” he said, with a nod at the king. “You don’t have to be a way-adept to own a way, you just have to own the master-token. I’m used to thinking as a way-finder, not an owner, and I confused the rock-wight ability to make ways with being way-adepts, which they are not.”
He continued, “Remember how Cavern Wind made an opening in herself to carry her musical instruments? They can do that easily.”
George still looked blank.
“It’s like this,” Rhodri explained. “A rock-wight comes to me. I claim her, make a master-token, and give it to her. She stores it inside herself, like putting it in a pocket. I remove my own claim, but the master-token still exists and she has the only one. No way-adept can claim her again unless she loses it, and it can be easily replaced by someone she trusts.”
“But that’s so simple,” George said, slowly.
“Yes, isn’t it? I don’t know why we didn’t think of it before,” Rhodri said.
Mag opened a cavity inside herself and pulled out and flourished her own master-token, waving it in the air with a pseudopod.
Your badge of freedom, George thought to her, as she put it back.
*Truly, a great defense for us from those like Madog.*
“How many h
ave been… inoculated like this?” George asked.
“Well, I don’t really know. For days we had long lines of them, and I carved wood until my wrists gave out, but I don’t know if that was everyone. Mag?”
“There will be more, later,” she said.
“A fine solution,” Gwyn said in approval. “Well done, Rhodri.”
“So,” Rhodri said, “we had the rock-wights protected, and the next question was, could they make a way across the ocean? Mag wanted to try, and Gravel agreed to let her. Eurig decided it was best done today, in time for the ritual, and we arranged a public show.
“First Mag made the way for us, from Daear Llosg, and I claimed it as it was being created. We couldn’t take a chance on someone else claiming it when it exited.” He mused in wonderment, “How wonderful that was, and how odd it felt. I must be the first way-finder ever to do so.
“I left it open at the back end so that Gravel could bring the hounds.”
Ives added, “I arranged for a wagon at the Guests’ Way, and the pack returned on foot the same way they left. We had mounts ready for everyone, and a crowd cheered us from the gates at Greenway Court as we went by, up to Daear Llosg.”
Benitoe said, “Gravel went first, like the world’s largest quarry, then Dyfnallt led us as a hunting pack, and Ives brought up the rear with the wagon, a field of puppies.”
George joined the amused laughter from the audience around the fires.
Rhodri said, “Eurig hated to miss the spectacle, but he had to stay behind. He stood at the gates with the rest and wished us well.”
He looked at Gwyn, “He had a message for you. The master-tokens are unharmed, and the backups were never revealed.”
Angharad leaned back to whisper to George. “The backups are at Bellemore. Nothing safer than that. Gwyn told me, in case something happened to him while he was trapped here.”
George chuckled at that. A safe place indeed, well and truly out of sight of Gwyn’s enemies in the otherworld.
Llefelys rose and thanked them all for their story. By ones and twos, people drifted off to get some sleep, and the general celebration was done. Llefelys walked over to Gravel, behind Seething Magma, and bowed to her.