The Curses of Arianrhod (A Bard Without a Star Book 4)

by Michael A. Hooten

Gwydion used Cymric magic to trip him up, and as he sprawled in the dirt, Gwydion quickly bound him with more magic. Warriors began streaming out of the palace, but Gwydion hauled Gilantra to his feet and said, “Tell them to stay back.”

  The Atlan lord, sounding as dispirited as he looked, said, “Come no closer, men. This human will visit great destruction upon us if you do.”

  The warriors, holding bright white spears and dressed in greens and blues, formed a rough half circle in front of them, but made no move to attack. “Very good,” Gwydion said. “Now, we shall discuss how you will stay here in your kingdom, and disturb the Ventii no longer.”

  “I swear it by my honor,” Gilantra said. “Being human, you may not understand, but that is the most secure oath I can make.”

  “I do understand, and I thank you for it.” Gwydion released his hold on him, and also released him magically. “But in case you are tempted to break your oath because I am merely human, let me remind you: I swore that if you would not stop attacking the Ventii, I would force you to pay tribute to them.”

  Gilantra paled, but said, “Neither I, nor any under my command will harm any Ventii.”

  “Excellent,” Gwydion said. “In return, I will do what I can to keep the Ventii from fouling your home.”

  Gilantra looked puzzled. “Why would you do that for us?”

  “Because you remind me of my kinsman, the Faerie of Glencairck.”

  “Ah, of course,” Gilantra said. “We share similar histories. Like the Faerie, the Atlan once ruled the earth, and like the Faerie, we were defeated by invading humans. But where the Faerie were offered all of Glencairck under the ground, we were offered the portion of Bangreen under the water.”

  “You have made it beautiful,” Gwydion said.

  “You are an odd human, Gwydion ap Don,” Gilantra said.

  “So I’ve been told.” Gwydion sighed. “But now I must return with you to King Ardin, to show him that you have been defeated, and get my son back.”

  “He threatened your son to get your help?” Gilantra said. “He is either very sure of his power, or very ignorant of yours.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t have to find out which,” Gwydion said.

  Chapter 7: Escape

  Gwydion and Gilantra approached the gates to the caer just before dawn. A solitary soldier on the wall saw them and began calling down inside, and soon they were proceeding to the great hall surrounded by a squad carrying pikes. Ardin sat on his throne looking much like he had the previous day, but the wizards, clustered off to the side looked petulant and sleepy.

  Gwydion stopped before the throne and bowed. “I present to you Gilantra, Lord of Loch Ermell, who is responsible for the recent attack on your caer.”

  Ardin leaned forward. “You’re an Atlan lord?”

  “I am,” Gilantra said.

  “Why did you attack the Ventii?”

  Gilantra spread his hands. “You claimed Loch Ermell for your own, without even the courtesy of inquiring if someone else had precedent. And then you dumped your garbage into my waters. What would you have done?”

  Ardin sat back. “Do you still claim the Loch for yourself?”

  Gilantra glanced at Gwydion and bowed his head. “Only the bottom, King Ardin. The rest is yours.”

  “Excellent,” Ardin said. “You are free to return to your realm, Lord Gilantra.”

  The Atlan lord bowed, but looked at Gwydion, who nodded. Gilantra smiled, swished his cloak around himself, and disappeared with a small pop! The king looked a bit disconcerted at the sudden departure, but he recovered quickly.

  “Our thanks, Gwydion,” he said. “You have proven your loyalty as well as your abilities.”

  Gwydion said, “I want my son.”

  The tone of command took Ardin aback, and he glanced at the wizards. Etherton just scowled and shook his head. “Very well,” he said, and motioned to a nearby guard. The man hurried off, and moments later returned with Llews, who walked slowly to his father’s side.

  Gwydion smiled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Everything alright?”

  “No problems, Da,” Llews said.

  “Good lad,” Gwydion said. He turned back to the king. “If there’s nothing else…”

  “There is one thing,” Ardin said. “I would like to name you as champion of the Ventii, responsible for the defense of the kingdom, and the prosecution of our enemies.”

  “I’m not a warrior, sire.”

  “Perhaps, perhaps not,” the king said. “I think you have a warrior’s instincts, and you obviously know how to do battle. It is the highest honor I can give you.”

  Gwydion only hesitated a second. “I accept, and will serve the Ventii to the best of my abilities.”

  King Ardin sighed with relief. “I know you will,” he said, sitting back. “Join me at my table tonight, and we will present you to the people.”

  “I live to serve,” Gwydion said.

  That night he sat at the king’s right hand during the evening meal, and after the food had been cleared, Ardin stood and waited for the noise to quiet down. “Last night,” he said, “Gwydion ap Don defended this caer from an Atlan lord who had attacked us. His success, and the defeat of the Atlan, have made it clear that he is suitable to be champion of the Ventii. What say ye?”

  The crowd roared its approval loudly, and Ardin looked a bit taken aback. “I thank the Ventii for their approval,” he said.

  Gwydion noticed that the wizards had not cheered at all, and that Gaftonius and Etherton both looked murderous.

  Over the next month, he felt several magical probes coming from the general vicinity of the High Wizard’s tower, but overall, he felt nothing but welcome in his new role. He refused to dress in any kind of finery, and only changed his four colored cloak for one with six colors. He and Llews, who he rarely let out of his sight, wandered among the people of the caer, listening and giving assistance wherever he could, and soon the people of the caer accepted their sudden appearance without letting it interrupt their normal routine.

  The winter passed slowly into spring, and Gwydion felt Ardin’s attitude towards him shifting. He had mostly been respectful and cordial to his new champion, but Gwydion noticed that the wizards were starting to regain their confidence, and that Etherton especially seemed to be returning to his smug arrogance. Gwydion used his abilities as a bard to listen to all the conversations swirling around the king, the wizard’s and himself, sifting through the speculations and assumptions to the truth beyond.

  One bright morning as they broke their fast on bread and cheese, Gwydion said, “It’s about time to leave here.”

  “Are we going to use magic?” Llews asked.

  “I’m thinking no,” Gwydion said. “Ardin knows how powerful I am, and is using the wizards to watch me. No, I think we’ll do something that will have him wondering about just who we are and what we’re capable of.”

  “But you’re more powerful than all of them combined.”

  “I am at the moment,” Gwydion said. “But I know Etherton is looking for a way to defeat me, and I am not going to just wait for him to figure something out. He seems to believe he’s close to something, and I’d rather not find out if he’s right or not.”

  Gwydion left Llews in their rooms, guarded by strong magic. He went down to the soldier’s quarters, nodding at those he recognized along the way. He knew he was being watched, but he also knew that he wasn’t doing anything unusual. He asked the Master-at-arms if Garth was around, and together they went to a nearby public house filled with loud and half-drunken soldiers.

  With pints in front of them, Gwydion said, “I could use your help,”

  “With what?” Garth asked

  “I need to leave the lands of the Ventii.”

  Garth nodded. “You’re growing more popular than the king,” he said. “That can’t be good.”

  Gwydion shrugged. “If Ardin were more comfortable with his power and authority, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

 
; “But there are plenty of stories of king’s turning on their champions,” Garth said.

  “And I see it going that direction,” Gwydion said.

  “So what do you want from me?”

  “Nothing that puts yourself in harm’s way.”

  Garth looked around at the rowdy soldiers. “Most of this lot respect you, and know that we are friends. But as long as we don’t call any more attention to ourselves, I think that no one would connect me to your disappearance. Especially when I do nothing unusual after you’re gone. So what do you have in mind?”

  “I need a way out of the caer that does not involve walking out the gate.”

  “Gone without a trace,” Garth said. “It would allow King Ardin to save face, too, by not making him confront you.” He tapped his cup while he thought. “I don’t know of any way to do it off hand, but let me see what I can find. When do you want to go?”

  “The sooner the better,” Gwydion said. “Llews and I aren’t in any danger yet, but these things can change very quickly.”

  “And everyone knows how he threatened you to get you to help with the Atlan.”

  “Right.”

  “Can you be ready at a moment’s notice?”

  “Just send me the word,” Gwydion said. “We can go at any time.”

  They met again the following week, and Garth said, “I’ve got a way, but we need to ease into it.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Start bringing Llews with you when you come down here. And let him explore the palace. I’ve asked around, and nobody would harm him for fear of crossing you.”

  Gwydion said, “That may be, but I fear for him, nonetheless.”

  “You have to trust his good sense,” Garth said. “He’s a good boy, and makes friends the way fish swim. And I’m sure you have taught him well.”

  Gwydion sighed. “I did not expect this kind of difficulty in our plan.”

  Garth smiled. “It’s difficult for any father to trust their child to be independent. You may have more to worry about than most, but it would have happened no matter what.”

  Gwydion returned to find Llews with his nose buried in a book. “What are you reading?” he asked.

  “It’s a book about the Caledonii,” Llews said.

  “And what do you think of it, and them?”

  “Well,” Llews said slowly. “Whoever wrote this obviously did not like them, and goes out of his way to make them seem inferior or barbaric.”

  “But…?”

  Llews closed the book. “But he can’t help revealing both a powerful people and one organized in an effective manner, even if it’s not along the lines that the author approves of.”

  “Impressive,” Gwydion said. He sat next to his son and said, “We need to talk, you and I.”

  “Is there something wrong?” Llews said, sitting up.

  “Yes, and no,” Gwydion replied. “I am putting a plan into motion to get us away from the King, and all the Ventii, but it requires something from you that I am reluctant to let happen.”

  “You know you can trust me,” Llews said.

  “It’s not you I’m worried about,” Gwydion said. “Garth thinks you should be allowed to be independent, doing you own thing.”

  “Not locked in the room when you leave?” Llews asked.

  Gwydion gave him a hug. “You must feel like a prisoner.”

  “Some days,” Lllews admitted. “But you fear someone using my curse to hurt me.”

  “Not just your curse,” Gwydion said. “I worry about anyone hurting you, in any way.”

  Llews nodded. “Especially to hurt you. Like what the King did.”

  “It took all my willpower not to destroy him when he told me what he had done,” Gwydion said.

  “So let me show you what I can do,” Llews said.

  “And what can you do?”

  “Da,” Llews said. “I already have a few friends.”

  “Really? Who?”

  “Toby, the chief steward's son, Eltha, whose dad is one of the grooms, and Setic, whose mom is a cook.”

  “And when did you make these friends?” Gwydion asked.

  Llews shrugged. “Before the whole thing with the Atlan.”

  “But they still like you?”

  “Are you kidding?” Llews said. “I have a story now. And it’s a good one.”

  “So you do,” Gwydion said. “Alright, we’ll try it. But I intend to keep an eye on you, and I want to hear what you do every day.”

  “Not a problem,” Llews said.

  It took a month, with Llews becoming one of the castle brats very quickly. He hung out in the servants’ quarters, and was soon loved by the cooks, the maids, the stewards, and every soldier stationed in the palace. When the two of them were together, Gwydion was impressed not only with how many people greeted his son, but also how many Llews knew by name. It almost made Gwydion reconsider his plan, but he saw how the wizards still watched him, and when they looked at Llews, it was all Gwydion could do not to raise baelfire shields around him.

  And every night, Gwydion listened to the stories Llews told him of his explorations, and began to see why Garth had such faith in the boy.

  When the time came to leave, the message actually came through Llews. He came in one evening and said, “Garth said tomorrow is the day.”

  “Did he tell you that himself?”

  “More or less,” Llews said. “He actually told me that he was looking forward to seeing both of us tomorrow.”

  “And how did you get from that to the other?”

  “Because I’m never invited,” Llews said.

  Gwydion smiled. “Smart lad. But I don’t want you there tomorrow, either. Instead, I want you to be nearby, but doing your own thing. Can you handle that?”

  “Follow you without being obvious?” Llews said. “I’ve done that lots already.”

  “Which doesn’t surprise me,” Gwydion said. “But it sounds like tomorrow we’ll be making our escape.”

  Llews said, “I can’t wait.”

  They met in the same pub as before, and Garth said, “There’s a secret passage out of the caer, down to the water. Do you know how to work a boat?”

  “That I do,” Gwydion said.

  “Good,” Garth said. “Getting a boat down there was the trickiest part, but I managed to do it without drawing any official attention. Ardin might find out what happened to you eventually, but by the time he does, you’ll be long gone.” He took a long pull on his mug. “I assume Llews is nearby?”

  “Probably watching us right now,” Gwydion said.

  “And you think you can escape the wizard’s notice?”

  “As long as I don’t use any magic,” Gwydion said. “I’ve been testing their abilities these few weeks, and it seems that they’re content to let me be unless they feel me using magic. Then two or three of them will suddenly be at hand, never intrusive, but always watching.”

  “And when you don’t use magic?”

  “I’ve been able to show up at the high wizard’s door and catch him by surprise,” he chuckled. “They so expect me to be like them, always using magic, that I am essentially disguised from them just by not using it.”

  “It’s all beyond me,” Garth said. He drained his mug, stood up, and said, “Do you know where the soldier’s mess is? Meet me there in twenty minutes with Llews.”

  “I will,” Gwydion said.

  Garth left, and Gwydion stayed behind to finish his beer. He expanded his senses to feel where the wizards were, but the nearest was still in the palace. He left a few coins on the table and headed back towards the palace. Llews joined him halfway there, not saying anything, just falling into step beside him. Gwydion smiled, but resisted the urge to hug him.

  Together they went to the mess, where even in the middle of the afternoon several soldiers sat eating. Garth met them at the door, and steered them down a dim side hall to a nondescript door that opened into a long storeroom lined with shelves and filled with
bags of flour, barrels of potatoes, and crocks of honey. Garth lit a candle and closed the door behind them. None of them spoke.

  Garth led them about halfway into the room, then turned and pulled on one of the shelves, opening a secret door behind it. Gwydion could smell the salt air in the tunnel beyond. Garth motioned them through, grabbed a bag, and closed the door, sighing with relief. “I’ve done this a dozen times in the last fortnight,” he said, “but I never worried about it like I did today.”

  “What is this place?” Llews said.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s an old escape route for the king,” Garth said. “But not very many people know about it, and when I first came through here, there was plenty of dust and cobwebs.”

  He led them down a long flight of stone steps, and Gwydion could smell the water and hear the sound of waves. The stairs ended on a stone pier in a small cave. They could see the bright green sea breaking into white foam at the mouth, but the water in the cave splashed gently against the stone. A small corracle bobbed gently in time, and Garth threw the bag into it. “Just a few loaves of bread and a hard cheese,” he said. “I figured you wouldn’t have time to grab anything.

  “Thank you,” Gwydion said. “For everything.”

  Garth shook his hand. “I hope you find what you seek,” he said.

  “Me too,” he said. “I’m just not sure where to even look at this point.”

  “I don’t know if it will help,” Garth said slowly, “but I remember an old tale about the great Eagle of Finncarn. She’s said to be the mother of all eagles, and very wise. I thought she was just a story, but it seems that even incredible stories can be based on something more than imagination.”

  “I’ve found that to be the case more often than I like,” Gwydion said. “A wise eagle, you say? And where would I find this marvelous creature?”

  “Mount Finncarn,” Garth said. “It’s northeast from here, but still independent of the Ventii.”

  “Thank you again,” Gwydion said. “You’ve been a good friend.”

  “As have you.”

  Llews tackled the soldier with a big hug. “Stay safe,” he said.