“Cade—” Rhiann began.
“One of the sidhe of whom the Irishman spoke stores the souls of the men she subdues in her cauldron, Rhiann,” Cade said.
His words chilled Rhiann far more than the wet and the rain.
“We seek Arawn,” Cade said. “We hope to close the black cauldron, but if I live to peer into it, what will I find?”
“You cannot lose hope,” Rhiann said. “Arianrhod left you alive, unlike the men in the tales. These are just stories with which to frighten a wide-eyed child on a winter night.”
“They were,” Cade said. “They were until now; until a man who lives them walked out of the myth and into the world.” Cade turned to look at Rhiann and she met his eyes. She couldn’t read the thoughts behind them, but she didn’t need to, as he spoke them. “I would give anything not to be this way, Rhiann.”
I wish you weren’t this way either. But she didn’t say it.
* * * * *
If anything, the storm worsened in the next hours. Cade ordered each man to tie himself to the rail, while he and Rhiann were contained by a thick rope tied to an iron ring, screwed into the deck just for this purpose. They hung on for dear life.
“What is the good of being immortal if whenever the skills are needed, I’m as weak as a babe?” Cade said, at one point.
“The sun will go down,” Rhiann said. “You are nearly as strong as a normal human during the day; perhaps it’s just that you are so used to how you feel at night, it’s the contrast that is so startling, not your actual weakness.”
Cade smiled and then went so far as to laugh into his sleeve. “Even in the worst hours, you find a bright moment. I need that.”
Rhiann wanted to tell him that she needed him, but the boat tipped up just then. They were turned practically upside down as the prow rose to the crest of a wave. A rush of water coursed down the deck and swamped them. They both pushed up onto their elbows, coughing.
“Did I ever tell you about the time when Rhun and I were nine and he tried to go over the waterfall near Bryn y Castell in a bucket?” Cade said.
“No,” Rhiann said. “What happened?”
“You certainly aren’t going to tell her now.” Rhun appeared in the doorway, clutching the frame to keep from falling.
Cade smirked. “I saved Rhun’s life.” Cade then proceeded to show a side of him Rhiann hadn’t seen before, telling her story after story about his adventures with Rhun. Meanwhile, Rhun lay flat on the deck beside them, growling occasionally in feigned disagreement. It was Rhun who’d been the more mischievous of the two of them as a boy, always getting Cade into trouble, from which Cade then had to get them out.
In the midst of one particularly hilarious tale involving a fish, a broom, and their mother’s petticoat, Dai reappeared, although as he did so, the wind ripped the hat off his head, despite the ties around his chin, and flung it over the sea.
He cursed, and then laughed. “Makes a man happy to be alive, does it not?” He clung to the empty doorframe; then gave Rhiann a wicked grin and disappeared back into the storm.
“Men like him are drawn to the sea and are never happy when they are away from her,” Rhun intoned from his prone position on the floor. “I, myself, will never set foot on a boat again.”
But then Dai returned, this time not looking so cheerful. He ran to Cade and started working at the now sodden ropes that bound him to the floor.
“My lord. You and your men must leave the ship. We’re being pulled further out to sea and if you don’t leave now, it may be days before you reach the shore, if at all. The waves are too treacherous and I fear my ship will break up.”
“Days?” Rhiann said. “Are we to swim the distance, then?”
Dai moved to her side and began to fight with the ropes that tied her to the boat. The iron circle was the only thing that had kept her from sliding from one wall to the other as the ship rose and fell and she held onto it with both hands. “We will launch the dinghy. I’m afraid you’ll have to see your own way to shore.”
Rhiann stared at him in disbelief. “And what of you?”
Dai glanced at Rhiann and then looked away. “I will try to run out the storm. I will not abandon my ship unless death is the only other choice.” Dai caught Cade’s arm to stop him sliding down the deck. “I will not be responsible for the loss of you as well as my crew. To take the dinghy in to shore gives you the best chance of survival. I cannot offer you that on board my boat. Now, let’s go!”
Dai grasped Rhiann under the arm and hauled her to her feet while Cade and Rhun staggered together out of the cabin and across the deck. Instantly, a mixture of rain and sea water doused them. Rhiann watched in terror as another giant wave rose up and crashed over them. Rhiann herself lost her footing and would have been washed to the side of the boat and swept with the water overboard had not the iron grip of the captain kept her upright.
Dai tossed Rhiann into the dinghy and she fell forward, sprawled across Dafydd’s lap. He grasped her forearms and righted her, his face red from embarrassment. Rhiann also read concern in his eyes, and perhaps fear. She hadn’t spoken to him since their earlier conversation. When Cade climbed in beside her, she sat between them. If they all hadn’t been about to drown, it would have been awkward. When the next wave rose under the boat, Rhun cut it loose. Within a count of five, the dinghy had pulled away from the ship and the dark and rain obscured it from view.
The captain was right, for the most part, about the higher security in the smaller boat. With only the nine companions, rowing and resting in conjunction with the waves and with minimal hull and no cargo, the boat bobbed and floated on the top of the waves, riding them like a toy boat in a tub rocked by an energetic toddler. The companions were drenched and scared, but as the boat survived wave after wave without capsizing, Rhiann was gradually numbed into the belief that they were not actually going to die just yet.
She couldn’t see land. As the men with their oars fought on, Rhiann prayed that they knew where they were going. Back at Aberffraw, Cade had sketched a rough map of the coastline of the Llyn Peninsula. It seemed to Rhiann it would be easy to get thrown back towards Ireland, or worse, blown in circles until they died from dehydration.
Rhiann gripped the seat of the dinghy tightly.
“We’ll make it,” Dafydd said.
“I wouldn’t count on making it in the boat, however.” Cade unbuckled Caledfwlch. “Give me your swords.” Reluctance showed on each man’s face as he handed Cade his most prized possession. Cade stacked the six weapons in a bundle and belted them together, before slinging them over his shoulder with his own belt strap.
“If we go in, my lord, that will be too heavy for you to carry,” Siawn said. “You’ll drown.”
“Unlikely,” Rhun said.
With Cade’s action, whatever hope Rhiann had of surviving the day ebbed further. At last, however, the sky began to lighten at the bottom of the clouds and the clear outline of land appeared in front of them. With that first glimpse, the sea finally deemed she’d had enough. She reached under the boat and threw it forward, sending it with a mighty push towards land, but capsizing it in the process.
In an instant, Rhiann went from numbing cold to biting cold and her already sluggish brain grasped that they had very little time to reach shore if any of them were going to live. Desperate now that death was so near, she bobbed up for air. She took a deep breath, and then coughed, struggling against the sea.
“Don’t fight it! Let it lift you!” Cade still held the bundle of swords over his shoulder. With one powerful crawl he was beside her.
“I’m glad you can swim!” she said, shouting above the pounding of the surf and the rain. Rhiann struggled out of her cloak and shoved it away, just as Cade reached out and caught an oar that floated past.
“Rhiann!” The sea thundered in her ears, almost drowning out his words. “Stay with me!”
He took one of her frozen hands and put it on the oar and used the other to tread water. He
then shot himself up and out of the water with a powerful kick in order to see around them. “The tide must be coming in. The waves are pushing us towards land.”
“Thank the Lord,” Rhiann said. “I was afraid we hadn’t a hope of reaching it.”
“Have you the strength to swim, Rhiann?” Cade said.
“And the alternative would be what?”
“Dying,” he said. Together, each with one hand on the oar, they stroked and kicked with the waves in the direction of the beach.
“Do you see anyone else?” Rhiann feared that none of their other companions could swim.
“Goronwy and Rhun are over to our left,” Cade said. “I saw their heads.”
“And the others?” Rhiann tried to push up above the wave to see better, but ended up swamping her nose and mouth instead.
“I don’t know,” Cade said. “Don’t worry about Dafydd, Rhiann. He’ll be all right. Save your energy for swimming.”
Rhiann let his words sink in and then took the plunge. “I’m not in love with Dafydd, Cade.”
“What did you say?”
He’d shouted the words at her and she realized that he hadn’t been able to hear what she’d said above the howling wind and spray. She just shook her head, letting the moment go and Cade didn’t ask her to repeat it.
From their experience at the Menai Strait, it had taken a quarter of an hour to swim the two hundred yards in a heavy current. Cade and Rhiann were less than half a mile from the shore, and it took them twice that, at least. The sea itself aided them in the end, pushing them forward, and eventually they found themselves crawling through the surf on their knees. Sobbing with relief, Rhiann collapsed on the sandy beach.
Chapter Four
Cade
The sliver of moon shone down on Cade, white against a pale blue sky. The wind had blown the clouds directly above him away, although more hovered on the horizon. The sun had already descended into the mist to the west and as his strength returned, Cade sensed it would soon set altogether. Better for me; not so for the rest.
Cade licked his lips, tasting the salt from the sea. It reminded him again of Arianrhod’s kiss. The salt lingered on his face as well. The water had soaked him, of course, but as he’d labored over the last hour, it had dried and left him with the familiar, sticky feeling any routine dip in the ocean might have given him, even if they’d been fighting for their lives. Except, he, alone of his companions, would have survived. Eventually, the sea would have given him up, no matter what happened to his friends.
The surf had calmed considerably, no longer crashing against the beach, but creeping in and out as if there’d never been a storm. Around Cade, refuse littered the beach, thrown up by the surf. It was mostly driftwood and seaweed but here and there lay a wine cask or some pottery shards. Cade lifted Rhiann in his arms, feeling a moment of satisfaction as the power within him remained dormant and controlled, thanks to the comforting weight of Caledfwlch which he’d returned to his waist. He carried her to where he’d built a fire in a sheltered spot in the dry sands near the bottom of a cliff. She still slept deeply, her hair covered with sand and her wet clothes destroyed by the salt.
“I’m not in love with Dafydd, Cade.”
In truth, Cade had heard her. His hearing was excellent. But he’d been so surprised that she’d said it, he’d wanted to hear it again. When they defeated Arawn, he’d corner her and make her say it over. Perhaps many times.
By whatever god or miracle had aided them, all of Cade’s companions had reached the shore. Once he settled Rhiann, Cade gathered the rest of them together one by one around the fire. He’d known when the surf had thrown them onto the beach that he had only a little time to get all of them warm and dry, or none of them might wake again. They’d all been conscious initially, but exhaustion had won out. Now, with the heat from the fire creating a bubble of warmth, they fell under its spell and slept.
Another hour passed and then Siawn was the first to wake. He sat up abruptly, more energized than Cade would have expected, and actually smiled when he saw Cade observing him. “My lord.”
“Cousin,” Cade said.
Siawn got to his feet and stretched. Cade had urged Siawn to remove his robes when they were in the dinghy and now he was dressed as Cade was, in breeches and shirt, though without a sword. “I see that I have arrived home in one piece, thanks to you,” Siawn said. “I will find out where we are before the others wake.”
Pleased at Siawn’s initiative, Cade nodded. Siawn sketched a bow and turned south, making for a gap in the cliffs, and Cade returned to watching his friends sleep. The fire crackled and Cade threw another armful of logs on to it before sitting again. Taliesin’s hair was ragged and stiff, spread out in a tangle around him, but sleep had smoothed the lines on his face, revealing yet again that he wasn’t much older than Cade himself. So often, Taliesin affected the air of the old man of prophecy that Cade forgot that he truly wasn’t. As Cade watched him, Taliesin stirred and then opened his eyes. His body tensed, in expectation of pain or fear Cade didn’t know, but then Taliesin relaxed and turned his head.
“So,” he said, with that particular tone with which Cade had become familiar. “We are alive.”
“It appears so,” Cade said.
“Your doing, I imagine.” Taliesin lifted his head to look at the fire and their sleeping companions. He dropped his head back to the sand. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Cade said.
“Are we forgiven, then?” Rhiann rolled onto her side and made to push onto her knees, but moaned instead and collapsed onto her stomach.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Taliesin said. “Perhaps Arawn’s attention is now elsewhere.”
“Or perhaps my prayers were answered,” Siawn said. “Perhaps Crawdawg looked down on us and asked God to have mercy.”
Cade looked away from Rhiann to see the priest walking towards them from the cliffs that lined the beach. Taliesin had the grace not to snort at Siawn’s words, and Cade shot him a grateful look. He was torn between the two of them. While he’d prayed for deliverance with Siawn, he’d understood Taliesin’s entreaties as well. Perhaps their survival was a tacit blessing from both religions. He liked to think so, anyway.
Cade squatted next to Rhiann and touched her hair. “Are you all right?”
“Every single one of my muscles hurts.” She lifted her chin to look at him. “Look at you! It isn’t fair.”
“What about me?” Cade said.
“Not a bruise on you,” she said, “though your hair certainly needs some help.”
Cade ran a hand through his hair, feeling its rough ends standing straight up on end. “All the better for our disguise. If we look as ragged as this when we reach Caer Dathyl, nobody will look at us twice.”
“The cliff turns inland further down the beach, my lord.” Siawn came to a halt beside Cade. “There is a passage that can lead us to Caer Dathyl.”
“This isn’t quite where I intended to land.” Cade straightened and examined the landscape. “But it could be worse.” The cliffs were nearly vertical here, not the lower mounds and hillocks of a few miles further north.
By now Rhiann was on her feet. She made a movement as if to check her back and then let her hand fall and her shoulders sag. She gave Cade a rueful smile. “The wood would be horribly warped from seawater anyway,” she said. “The bow strings are useless as it is.” She pulled the sodden thread from an inner pocket at her waist.
“If we ever make it inside the castle,” Cade said, “we’ll see about getting you a new bow.”
“It won’t be the same,” she said. “I fought well with that one.”
“Perhaps Siawn can help you find one that will suit,” Cade said.
Rhiann gave an involuntary shiver. “I’m not sure how I feel about using anything from Caer Dathyl.”
“If we get inside safely,” Siawn said, “I can lead us to the armory.”
“Perhaps that isn’t where it used to be,” Rhiann sai
d. “Bedwyr says the castle is different.”
“I don’t believe it,” Siawn said. “I know the walls are made of stone now, but it can’t be extraordinarily changed or people would talk. Time has sped up for us because we feel the urgency of our task. For everyone else, barely a month has passed since my father’s death. The sun still shines; the farmers are preparing for spring plowing; the sheep move further up the mountain as the snows recede.”
“And then Arawn releases more and more demons from his cauldron.” Goronwy got to his feet near Dafydd and Hywel, who had also woken and stood. They brushed the sand from their stiffened and dried clothing and then buckled on the swords that Cade had kept safe.
“There is that,” Siawn said. “Not something any of us should forget, even for a moment.”
“You know what is bothering me about all this?” Dafydd had pulled his sword from its sheath and was rubbing at it with the tail of his shirt, polishing it until it shone. Cade found, suddenly, that he liked him now, far more than yesterday.
“I have no idea, brother,” Goronwy said, “but I suspect you’re going to tell us.”
Dafydd made a face at him, like he must have when he was a child, but then sobered. “I can’t imagine these demons are leaving Caer Dathyl by the main gate in broad daylight. That just doesn’t make sense, unless Teregad has evicted all of the peasants and craft workers.”
“We would have heard,” Cade said. “Bedwyr would have seen that.”
“If Arawn’s lair is under Caer Dathyl,” Siawn said, “there are catacombs a-plenty beneath it that could house him and allow passage through to the outside without necessarily going through the fort itself.”
Song of the Pendragon (The Last Pendragon Saga Book 3) Page 4