A novel from the After Cilmeri series
Ashes of Time
by
Sarah Woodbury
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Copyright © 2014 by Sarah Woodbury
Cover image by Christine DeMaio-Rice at Flip City Books
http://flipcitybooks.com
Ashes of Time
November 1291. Meg and Llywelyn gather their family at Rhuddlan Castle to celebrate their seventh anniversary and David’s twenty-third birthday. But the joyful reunion goes grievously awry when an old enemy raises the banner of rebellion, followed immediately by an even more catastrophic betrayal by an old friend.
Meanwhile, facing war at every turn and still haunted by his decision to leave Cassie and Callum in the modern world, David chooses a dangerous path forward, one that will either change the course of the future forever—or burn his world to ashes.
Ashes of Time is the eighth novel in the After Cilmeri series. Other books in the series include a novella, Winds of Time, and seven novels: Daughter of Time, Footsteps in Time, Prince of Time, Crossroads in Time, Children of Time, Exiles in Time, and Castaways in Time.
www.sarahwoodbury.com
To my readers
Thank you for traveling in time with me
Books in the After Cilmeri Series:
Daughter of Time (prequel)
Footsteps in Time (Book One)
Winds of Time
Prince of Time (Book Two)
Crossroads in Time (Book Three)
Children of Time (Book Four)
Exiles in Time
Castaways in Time
Ashes of Time
The Gareth and Gwen Medieval Mysteries:
The Bard’s Daughter
The Good Knight
The Uninvited Guest
The Fourth Horseman
The Fallen Princess
Other books by Sarah Woodbury:
Cold My Heart: A Novel of King Arthur
The Last Pendragon
The Pendragon’s Quest
Pronouncing Welsh Names and Places
Aberystwyth –Ah-bare-IH-stwith
Bwlch y Ddeufaen – Boolk ah THEY-vine (the ‘th’ is soft as in ‘forth’)
Cadfael – CAD-file
Cadwallon – Cad-WASH-lon
Caernarfon – (‘ae’ makes a long i sound like in ‘kite’) Kire-NAR-von
Dafydd – DAH-vith
Dolgellau – Doll-GESH-lay
Deheubarth – deh-HAY-barth
Dolwyddelan – dole-with-EH-lan (the ‘th’ is soft as in ‘forth’)
Gruffydd – GRIFF-ith
Gwalchmai – GWALK-my (‘ai’ makes a long i sound like in ‘kite)
Gwenllian – Gwen-SHLEE-an
Gwladys – Goo-LAD-iss
Gwynedd – GWIN-eth
Hywel – H’wel
Ieuan – ieu sounds like the cheer, ‘yay’ so YAY-an
Llywelyn – shlew-ELL-in
Maentwrog – MIGHNT-wrog
Meilyr – MY-lir
Owain – OH-wine
Rhuddlan – RITH-lan
Rhun – Rin
Rhys – Reese
Sion – Shawn
Tudur – TIH-deer
Usk – Isk
Cast of Characters
David (Dafydd)—Time-traveler, King of England
Lili—Queen of England, Ieuan’s sister
Callum—Time-traveler, Earl of Shrewsbury
Cassie—Time-traveler, Callum’s wife
Llywelyn—King of Wales, David’s father
Goronwy—Advisor to Llywelyn
Meg (Marged)— Time-traveler, mother to David and Anna
Anna—Time-traveler, David’s half-sister
Math—Anna’s husband, nephew to Llywelyn
Ieuan—Welsh knight, one of David’s men
Bronwen—Time-traveler, married to Ieuan
Nicholas de Carew—Norman/Welsh lord
Evan—Castellan of Harlech
Cadwallon—Llywelyn’s captain
William de Bohun—David’s squire
Justin—David’s captain
The Children
Arthur—son of David and Lili
Catrin—daughter of Ieuan and Bronwen
Cadell—son of Math and Anna
Bran—son of Math and Anna
Gwenllian—daughter of Llywelyn
Elisa—daughter of Llywelyn and Meg
Padrig—son of Llywelyn and Meg
Map of North Wales
Chapter One
November 1291
Meg
Searching for the twins when they didn’t want to be found was a thankless task and one Meg had been at for the last ten minutes. The inner ward of Rhuddlan castle was a maze of wooden buildings built three stories high along the inside of the stone curtain wall and included a chapel, two kitchens, sleeping rooms, and the great hall on the opposite side of the inner ward. The outer ward contained many buildings too, among them two stables and a forge.
In the inner ward, narrow passages ran between the rooms and the curtain wall, and circular staircases in the towers connected the levels to one another. Up ahead was the castellan’s office, which doubled as a receiving room. Llywelyn had taken it over for himself while he was here. Meg thought she heard the giggle of young voices farther along the passage through which she was walking, but they faded before she could catch up to them.
If someone had told Meg ten years ago that she would give birth to twins at the age of forty-two, she would have laughed. If that person had prefaced the statement with the assertion that Llywelyn would be the father, Meg probably would have cried. By thirty-two, she’d already spent ten long years without him. It would have been a relief to know she had to spend only five more.
Meg walked into the receiving room just as Lili said, “Stewing again?” Meg’s daughter-in-law perched on the table behind David, her hands going to the muscles in his broad shoulders and her thumbs pressing hard. Arthur, their son, played with a wooden horse at their feet, his blonde head bent as he focused on his toy.
“Did you sleep at all?” Meg said.
“A few hours,” David said, which Meg thought might not be a complete untruth. She’d woken up in the night herself and passed him in the corridor.
David handed her a letter.
“What’s this?” She took it, scanning it with a dubious expression on her face. It was from Tudur, Llywelyn’s counselor at Chepstow Castle. After reading the first page, she passed the paper back to David. “Really? Madog and Rhys challenge us now?”
“They want more land—or in Madog’s case, his father’s land back,” David said. “Rhys resents Dad’s interference in Deheubarth and feels that he favors his cousin, Wynod.”
“Of course Papa favors Wynod.” Lili’s blue eyes flashed. “Which one of them has stabbed him in the back a dozen times, and which one has always been loyal?”
“Tell that to Rhys,” David said. “He wants Carreg Cennan.”
“He can want it all he wants,” Meg said. “He isn’t going to get it. That he still retains Dryslwyn is bad enough.”
“According to Tudur, Rhys is telling himself that Dad’s hold on Deheubarth isn’t as strong as it once was, especially with the new reforms he’s introduced,” David said.
“At your urging,” Lili said.
“At my urging,” David agreed. “This is my doing, more than Dad’s.”
“Nonsense.” Llywelyn looked up from what he was writing, entering their conversation for the first time. He ran a hand through his still dark hair, which had less gray than Meg’s own brown locks, and looked at his son with amusement and pity. “You have
enough to trouble you without taking on the petty politics of Wales.”
“It will be my problem if Rhys gets up to his old tricks,” David said, “and brings Madog along for the ride.”
“Your mother tells me that in your other world Rhys was sold to King Edward by his own men and then executed for treason.”
“When was this?” David said, looking at Meg, who’d come around the table to hug her husband from behind as he studied the papers in front of him. The man was as ridiculously handsome as he’d been when she’d first met him.
“Rhys betrayed Edward—after betraying your father long before—in 1287.” Meg straightened, her hands resting on Llywelyn’s shoulders. “Edward finally caught up with him in 1292.”
“So you’re saying that what Rhys is doing now is in his nature?” David said. “Since King Edward is dead, he naturally rebels against you instead?”
“I’ve been dealing with that old sot since I took my first steps to the throne of Wales.” Llywelyn leaned back in his chair, twisting his torso and stretching his arms to get out the kinks after sitting too long. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been expecting something like this from him for years. Tudur knows that.”
“So I guess you don’t need my help after all,” David said.
“Son—” Llywelyn dropped his arms.
David waved a hand. “I’m sorry. I’m feeling melancholy.”
Lili pushed at David’s shoulder. “It’s the lack of sleep. Besides, your only job this afternoon is to sit at the head of the table and eat!”
Arthur looked up at the excitement in Lili’s voice, abandoning his horse to tug on his mother’s leg and ask to be picked up. Lili lifted him up and kissed his cheek. Then Arthur put out his hands to Meg, which was a rare gift since he didn’t always condescend for her to hold him, and she took him in her arms.
“This democracy thing isn’t easy,” David said, taking Meg’s place at his father’s side and peering over Llywelyn’s shoulder to look at the papers he’d spread before him. “We should alert your allies that we might have to act without Parliament.”
“Already done,” Llywelyn said.
“It would have been nice to enjoy our anniversary in peace without rumors of war—” Meg broke off as Cadell, Anna’s eldest son, hurtled into the room, his small sword raised high.
“Arthur!” Then he caught sight of the adults arrayed in front of him and pulled up. Sheathing his sword in his belt, he sauntered towards them, an insouciant grin on his face and an irrepressible sparkle in his hazel eyes. “I have something to show you!”
Arthur instantly squirmed to get down, abandoning Meg for his six-year-old cousin.
Then a horde of small children—three-year-old Catrin, of the brown curls and green eyes; Bran, a black-haired, blue-eyed miniature of Math, even at only two; and the blonde-haired twins, Elisa and Padrig, who’d been born shortly after Bran—surged through the doorway behind Cadell. The decibel level in the room rose to that of an airplane engine. In other words—deafening.
“Dear God, Llywelyn,” Meg said. “What have we done?”
Llywelyn laughed. “I prayed my whole life that such a fate would be mine.” He stood to put his arm around Meg’s shoulder, kissing her temple as they watched the children.
Last to enter was Gwenllian, Llywelyn’s nine-year-old daughter by his wife, Elin, who’d died giving birth to her. Gwenllian shot Meg a rueful look as the children circled the room, shouting. Meg was glad to see that in preparation for the meal Gwenllian had already changed into her finery without being asked, pulling her blonde curls back from her face in a band. Gwenllian had spent far too much time with nannies as a small child, but in recent years she had grown into her own person, which sometimes meant not doing as she was told. She and David shooed the children out the door again.
“When’s dinner?” Llywelyn said.
Even after all these years, Meg made a motion to check her wrist for a watch. Of course it wasn’t there. “Soon. I’ll see to it.”
David’s brow furrowed. “Marty hasn’t arrived yet, has he?”
“No.” Meg headed for the door, tipping her head to Gwenllian to indicate that she should come along.
“Aren’t you looking forward to seeing him, Mom?” Gwenllian said in perfect American English.
Meg had been frowning, but she hastily cleared her expression. She hadn’t been thinking about Marty at all, but about Rhys’s and Madog’s rebellion. Meg’s son and husband were soldiers. More than that, they were leaders of men. If Meg allowed herself to think for too long about what could happen to either of them, the sick feeling that formed in her stomach took a sleepless night to conquer. They faced danger every day. Meg never got used to it.
“I don’t know,” Meg said to Gwenllian, forcing herself to answer the question as if nothing at all was the matter. That was another aspect of being the mother to one warrior and married to another: pretending that all was well when it wasn’t. “The last time I saw Marty, he was flying his airplane out of sight while I cooled my heels beneath Hadrian’s Wall.”
“I can’t believe he abandoned you,” Gwenllian said, stoutly supportive. Marty had crashed the airplane in the Highlands of Scotland, so he hadn’t fared as well as Meg. She’d forgiven him, since it was years ago now. Cassie and Callum had reported that Marty had adjusted well to the thirteenth century, and the weapons he’d made from the remains of the airplane had saved them in Scotland, but Meg hadn’t forgotten what he’d done. She didn’t know if she could really call him a friend, or if she was truly looking forward to seeing him after all these years.
Part of Meg had hoped that Marty might have managed a visit sooner. But despite repeated invitations, not only from Callum but David and Meg too, he had declined up until now, citing the burdens of a wife and small child as his excuse. Meg secretly thought that he was afraid to face her. And for good reason. He’d abandoned her to her fate. It was hard to trust a man who could do that.
“It was a long time ago, sweetheart.” Meg put her hand on Gwenllian’s shoulder, banishing her unease as best she could.
Meg and Llywelyn had sat down with Gwenllian a year ago and told her as much of the truth about Meg, David, and Anna’s origins as they thought she could bear and understand. They probably shouldn’t have been surprised at how calmly Gwenllian had taken what they’d had to say. An eight-year-old child with an active imagination could accept ideas that adults fought. When they told her that David and Anna had been born in another world and that Meg and Llywelyn themselves had traveled to and from it, she’d been happy. The explanation had merely clarified what she’d eavesdropped to hear for years.
Gwenllian and Meg found Anna and Bronwen standing together in the castle’s second, smaller hall near the southwestern tower, arranging the table for dinner. Known as the queen’s hall, it had apartments above and below it and its own kitchen. It was accessed by four doors: one at the southwestern tower stairwell, two doors that entered through the west and south corridors that followed the curtain wall, and an exterior door that led down to the inner ward via external stairs.
The inhabitants of Rhuddlan would eat well tonight—as truly they always did—but the family’s meal would be for them alone, more reminiscent of an eighteenth century dinner in a manor house than the typical raucous medieval meal in the hall. Here in the queen’s hall, they would be isolated from the rest of the castle and win an hour’s peace from the pressures of their positions. David had managed to leave the bulk of his court—counselors, ministers, and hangers-on—at Chester, though he’d still brought many of his men and attendants with him. As had Llywelyn.
They were celebrating a combined anniversary dinner for Meg and Llywelyn and a birthday party for David, though not on the right day for either. Whether or not the medieval people they lived with appreciated their need for privacy, Meg had made sure that today was just for the family.
Anna was counting chairs. “I’m going to separate the kids to try to cut down on the chaos
.”
Bronwen smirked. “Good luck with that. They’ll sit quietly if Cadell or Gwenllian tell them to. I don’t know what’s come over Catrin. She listens to me at home but somehow not here.”
“She’s three,” Anna said. “You have to expect a few tantrums. I’d like to keep Bran’s to a minimum, but I make no promises.”
It was odd being a grandmother to children older than Meg’s own, but that was the Middle Ages for you. “Elisa and Padrig can sit with Arthur,” Meg said. “He doesn’t talk, and they talk only to each other, so they’ll get along fine.”
“That puts Cadell, Bran, and Catrin together,” Bronwen said.
“Gwenllian, can I put you and Catrin between the boys?” Anna said. “That ought to cut down on the fighting. I swear, they pick at each other all day long—Cadell’s fault, mostly.”
“When you and David fought, I charged you a dollar for every incident,” Meg said.
Anna’s face lit. “I remember that! David and I would sometimes hit each other anyway and then swear to each other not to tell you.”
Meg laughed. “I’m glad I didn’t know, though I can’t say I’m sorry to hear it. Better united in crime than not united at all.” She pursed her lips. “Bran’s a little young for that, though, and it isn’t like you give your children gold for their allowance.”
“Cadell and I need to have a sit-down,” Anna said. “I’ll have to think about what to threaten him with.”
“Here they come,” Bronwen said as the sound of children shouting echoed outside in the corridor. The troop stormed into the room.
Anna put up a hand to Cadell. “Stop!”
Cadell pulled up short and instantly all the other children stopped too.
Anna bent down, her hands on her knees, to look her son in the eye. “You will sit quietly for this meal, or I will take away that sword and you won’t have it back until we leave Rhuddlan. Is that clear?”
Ashes of Time (The After Cilmeri Series) Page 1