"No, we're safe. I waited a long time after you had left so that no one would think there was any connection in our departures. I told mother that my head ached from all of the ceremony and wine, so she sent me back to my rooms. I had to wait until my lady-in-waiting left before I dared to put on my cloak and come find you." She put her free hand to his cheek. "Mother is convinced that I have totally forgotten you."
At the reference to her mother, he shifted nervously on the stone seat. "In many ways it would be best if you had."
"Don't be foolish! I could never forget you." Her avowal was both exhilarating and agonizing to him.
They had met two years ago on her first visit to Pentarin with her parents. Daffyd was himself a recent arrival, having come to the city as one of House Treves' musicians. Their first introductions had been brief, formal and well-supervised, but since she was interested in music and was talented herself, her parents did not object to letting her visit the music rooms of the palace often. Over the next year they had met twice more under similar circumstances, and then Daffyd had been informed by his music master that he was being sent to Gwenth in Creon to teach the duke's daughter, a request for a music teacher having had come from the duchess.
Arriving at Castle Gwenth, he found himself ensconced in rooms of his own and had been given instructions to make himself free within the castle. Left with scant chaparonage, the attraction between the two young people had grown until Daffyd had found himself embroiled in a serious and proscribed relationship with the duke's daughter. Knowing that a match between a music-master and the only daughter of the Duke of Creon to be impossible, they had kept their mutual infatuation concealed from all outside eyes. Only when alone in the sanctuary of the castle's music room had they exchanged words of love. Whether a servant had seen them together and reported it to her mistress, or the duchess herself had discerned it, Daffyd never knew. But one morning he found himself called before that regal lady, who thanked him for his services and informed him that her daughter now had sufficient musical attainment for "a noble-woman of her lineage destined to marry and manage a large household." Daffyd had understood the duchess all too well and made plans to leave Gwenth immediately. Before leaving, however, Angharad had contrived to meet him and tell him that she would be in Pentarin in six months, when she would be accompanying her parents to the Pentacle Council session, begging him to meet her there. During those months apart, Daffyd had inured himself to the impracticability of their attachment and determined to end it. But now, with her actually here beside him, practicality counted for little.
"There is no future for us," he said, sounding feeble even to himself.
"Don't you still love me?" She sat upright and looked directly into his face.
"Love you? All too well! Angharad, regardless of my feelings for you or yours for me, the truth is that your rank places you as far above me as the stars, and you are equally as obtainable to me as they are." He sighed, taking both of her hands in his. "I have spent the last few months thinking about our situation. I may be of gentle birth but you are the daughter of one of the first families in the Pentarchy; there is no way that your parents would ever countenance your marrying me. Just the hint that we were friendlier than your mother deemed proper for teacher and student forced me to quit Gwenth."
Gently she pulled her hands from his and placed them on his shoulders. "Daffyd, if you really love me and are willing to take the risk, I have thought of a way that we can avoid my parents and be together always." Her voice betrayed her excitement, though she strove to sound as calm and logical as she could. "You are right when you say that my parents will never permit me to marry you. I have also thought long about it and, this being so, our only course must be to run away together and leave the Pentarchy."
"You are mad, Angharad! Such a plan would never work." Daffyd's look of shock and disbelief echoed his words.
She stuck her chin out defiantly. "I have thought it through and it can work. It must work because it is the only way that we can be together. Listen to me Dai, we haven't much time. My parents have brought me to Pentarin especially to find a husband for me. I feel like an animal at a village fair being auctioned off to the highest bidder!" She spoke with unaccustomed bitterness and he automatically put his arm around her shoulders in comfort. "You don't understand how awful it is! Men stare at me, and I know that it's not me they look at but the duke's daughter. That's why we have to act now; otherwise, they will simply marry me off where they will, and then we will truly be lost to each other."
The distress in her voice awoke an equal torment in him. In his own mind he had resolved to give her up, but not to someone else. The idea of her being forced to marry where her parents chose and without her consent was abhorrent to him. Inconceivable as his running away with her had been a moment ago, he found himself saying hoarsely, "Tell me of this plan of yours."
Her teeth flashed triumphantly in the darkness and she caught his hands again in her own. "Tomorrow the Pentacle Council meets. Both my mother and father will be attending it all day, and Owen will be in the visitor's gallery. As soon as they have left I will tell my ladies-in-waiting that I still feel unwell and that I wish to be left undisturbed in my rooms. Then, I will disguise myself and slip out of the palace. Everyone is so interested in the council session that I should have no trouble getting away. I will meet you down by the city quays. From there we can find a boat that will take us down the river to Dacara."
"Why Dacara?" he interjected.
"Because Dacara is a port-city with many people; fewer questions are likely to be asked of us if we are surrounded by others. Also, it is the closest large port, and with ships coming and going constantly we should be able to find a ship quickly and leave before anyone can find or stop us. The Pentarchy is not the only place where your music will earn you a living and, until we are settled, I have more than enough jewels to buy what we may need."
"There will be no need for you to support us. I have money saved; it should be sufficient for our needs." He spoke calmly, almost numbly, though his mind was far from quiet.
"Then you will do it?" The question was breathed as if she hardly believed that she had won. "We will finally be together." Her smile was radiant, as if the dangers were already past and they were safely outbound on a ship. He kissed her fervently, hoping to stave off his own doubts by drowning them in her certainty.
Bells tolled and they realized the lateness of the hour. Hurriedly, Angharad had him give her instructions on how to reach the river from the palace and, once there, where to meet him. He cautioned her against bringing too much and on taking care not to be observed. They kissed once more with great passion before she left for House Creon's quarters.
Daffyd stayed in the garden for a long time after she had gone. He had the gravest misgivings about what they were planning on doing. If the duke or his agents caught them, he knew without a doubt that his life would be worthless. His greatest hope was that Angharad's disappearance would not be discovered until they were far down-river and out of reach. That seemed possible considering the important matters that it was speculated the council would be discussing. Once in Dacara, it should be easy enough to book passage on one of the numerous merchant ships that traded with the Pentarchy. There they would have to trust to luck that such a ship, affordable and going to a hospitable land, would be already set to sail. He knew that they could ill-afford to linger within the Pentarchy's borders once her absence was detected. He felt certain qualms when he thought about Lord Colin and Lady Dinea, and what their opinion of him would be when all of this was discovered. Resolutely he pushed their faces away and concentrated on Angharad. He visualized her face, her form, all that would soon be his when he claimed her as wife. His head reeled and he picked up his hat and placed it firmly on his head. Tomorrow would set all of their plans in motion; he had only to wait.
Chapter 5
By the mid-morning bells, all of the members of the Pentacle Council were convened and sitting at
their traditional seats in the room known colloquially as Gryffyd's Court. This chamber, one of the oldest buildings within the palace precincts, was situated in a short, five-sided tower not far from the Great Hall. The domed ceiling capped a room twice as tall as it was broad, and the floor was set with vari-coloured tiles arranged in the five-within-five configuration of a pentacle. Long, thin windows of opaque glass punctuated the walls, in between which were hung tapestries depicting important historical and mythical events. The five largest tapestries were worked in the colours of each of the Great Houses and each bore the heraldic symbol of the individual House in the center of a large pentangle. The tapestry for House Sandovar had, in addition, a crown above its griffon. In between the tapestries of the Great Houses were smaller tapestries of the same design with the symbols of the Minor Houses displayed. The carved and gilded thrones of the Great House scions, with less ornate chairs for the lords of the Minor Houses, were set in a great, inward facing circle. Along the sides of the room, behind an elaborate balustrade of carved wood, were set the chairs and benches for the spectators. This morning the nobles of both the Great and Minor Houses were less elaborately attired than the previous night, though all favoured their House colours and the ducal heads wore simple circlets of gold wrought with the individual House symbol resting on the forehead. The banquet had been a formal showing of power; the actual meeting of the Pentacle Council was for the wielding of that power. Only the acting head of each of the Great and Minor Houses was allowed to participate in the discussions and actions of the Pentacle Council, and only the heads of the five Great Houses were actually allowed to vote on policy recommendations for the Pentarchy, with House Sandovar casting the final, decisive vote. Lord Michael Talen, Recorder for the Pentacle Council, officially opened the council session after everyone had arrived and the doors were closed. Standing behind the Regent's throne he read the names and titles of all of the attending council members; after which, he sat down at a small desk provided for him and took up his pen. Lord Percamber stood and delivered the opening speech.
Hollin was seated in her usual place between Percamber and Lord Gunnar, the Duke of Tuenth, an older man with sparse grey hair combed over a round head and heavy jowls that had begun to sag with age. A stolid, conservative nature and little imagination had been his leading traits in council matters. On the other side of Percamber sat Lord Branwilde, the Duke of Creon, looking serious as was his usual wont. Next to Branwilde sat the Duke of Mirvanovir, Lord Niall, lounging gracefully against the backrest of his throne. Directly across from Percamber sat Lord Brescom, Earl of the Inner Ward and senior of the Minor Houses. The earl was in his fifties, a widower who had never remarried; he had developed his reputation as a military man after winning renown for himself in the northland border skirmishes a quarter of a century ago. To his right was the elderly Countess of Pentarell, Lady Laurin, who had been attending sessions of the Pentacle Council longer than anyone else present. Between her and Lord Niall sat Lord Colin de Chantalcalm, with his long, slender hands resting comfortably on the arms of his chair. To the left of Lord Brescom were the Earl of Gresha, Lord Lewys Glendark, a sleek young man newly married and recently come to his earldom, and Lord Aidan Ravenspur, the Viscount of Thurin, a man of middle-years with thinning hair and the robust build of a warrior.
When the regent's speech concluded Lord Talen stood again to read the decisions and their implementations from the last council session. As he read, Hollin noticed glances being exchanged between the lords of Gresha and Thurin. Both men shifted in their seats nervously and Hollin speculated to herself as to which lords or ladies had been canvassing them for support. At last, Lord Talen asked for new business and Hollin was hardly surprised to hear Niall's voice.
"Let me begin by stating at once that no disrespect is intended toward Lord Percamber, who has ruled well and ably as our regent since the death of King Gwydian. However, his tenure was meant to be a temporary measure, and the time is now at hand for us, as the governing body of the Pentarchy, to consider and resolve the issue of kingship. The Pentarchy has been many years now without a High King, and there are rumours from beyond our borders that we are beginning to be viewed as a headless state." Amid rumblings of protest, Niall went on. "Obviously with our excellent regent we are far from headless, but the fact remains that there is no king on the throne and no heirs to succeed him." At this remark, a babble of excited voices erupted; some supporting and some denying the Duke of Mirvanovir's statement.
Lewys finally took the floor to speak and the other voices fell silent. Flicking his fair hair out of his eyes, he spoke earnestly. "What Niall has said has much merit to it, but I wish to remind everyone here that there is an heir to the throne: Prince Brian ap Gryffyd, son of our late king."
"That is all well and good, but where is the prince? He has not been seen or heard of for ten years," Brescom interjected, looking around to see who there would argue with this statement. "He may well be dead for all we know!"
"He is still alive," Percamber refuted in a flat, unequivocal voice. "He is residing of his own volition in a city to the north, beyond our borders."
"What's that you say?" Gunnar snorted derisively. "Hidden away in a mountain retreat for ten years! That's a bit hard to swallow. How do you know he's there? And why isn't he here, where he should be?"
"I haven't seen him in those ten years either, Gunnar, and I do not know why he has not returned sooner. But he is alive and he is the legitimate heir to House Sandovar and the throne." Percamber's reply held a note of weariness that alarmed Hollin.
"How do you know he is alive?" Gunnar persisted, clearly unconvinced.
"Because," Colin broke in smoothly, "We have resonated a crystal to his life energies."
"Do you mean that he left a resonating crystal behind when he left?" Lady Laurin asked delicately.
"Not exactly. With the help of Lord Percamber and my wife, we were able to activate a crystal to him." Laurin's white eyebrows soared upwards in astonishment.
"Oh come now, Colin," Niall said, his voice etched with skepticism. "You resonated a crystal to the individual energies of a person missing for ten years?"
"Magician's brew," Gunnar muttered shaking his head. "No good can come of playing about with that mumbo-jumbo."
"This does stretch our credulity quite a bit," Aidan was quick to point out.
"Come now gentlemen, and ladies." Branwilde's deep, authoritative voice cut through the speculative remarks being passed about. "Need I remind you that we all, by being confirmed heads of our Houses, are capable of arcane acts. Gunnar, you should be the last to talk of "magician's brews;" you are eminently capable of your own "mumbo-jumbo." But I would ask of Treves: how has he been able to verify that the crystal does indeed resonate to the living force of the prince?"
Before Colin could respond, Percamber testily broke in, "I ask you to remember that, not only is Brian my grandson and well known to me, but I also was trained at Dacara and my skills, though not used in recent years, are, I assure you, reliable. Besides these proofs, another has been furnished by our esteemed Duchess of Langstraad." Curious and calculating eyes were turned towards Hollin, whose kept her expression unreadable. "Lady Hollin has in her possession a ring, an heirloom of House Sandovar, that has the unique property of being keyed to a member of that House. In this case it is attuned to Prince Brian. It resonated as the crystal did when we probed it."
"I will take your word for it that the prince may well be still alive, but it is of little account, if he has seen fit to abandon the Pentarchy." Branwilde's face expressed both the irritation and incomprehension that such a decision caused in him.
"We do not know that my grandson has indeed abandoned the Pentarchy." Percamber went on to give a brief history of Prince Brian and the reasons he left the Pentarchy. "I was not there when he parted from his father, but the late king was certain that his son planned to return and assume his duties."
"Perhaps he no longer wishes to be king," Aidan ven
tured.
"Or is captured and held against his will again," Gunnar suggested with a grunt.
"Since no ransom demand has been made, that is not very likely," Lewys replied.
"It may be that he is simply unaware of the current political situation in the Pentarchy," Laurin put in with deceptive sweetness. "Any of these suppositions could be true, or they all could be false. The question is: if the rightful prince is proved to be still alive, what are we going to do about it?"
Hollin thought that this remark was as good a lead in for her as any, and so she spoke up, weighing her words carefully. "Something that Lord Percamber did not mention about the crystal and the ring is that in order to gain a clearer idea of where the prince is, the resonating energies were recombined into the ring, which is the stronger arcane object. The resonance is now clear enough that it can be used as a sort of internal compass to find the actual whereabouts of the prince."
“If that is so," Lewys said, "It seems that what we shall have to send an embassy to find the prince, inform him of the situation and escort him home." He looked around at the other council members, most of whom were already nodding their heads in agreement. Hollin glanced at Niall, to see what effect these revelations were having on him, but his face remained an unreadable mask.
Branwilde was nodding with the rest. "I think you are right, Lewys. Niall is correct about the effect that a regency without a visible heir is having on those beyond our borders. The time is right to reestablish the throne and place the High King on it. We must send messengers to the prince as soon as possible."
"There is one small problem," Colin interjected casually. "The ring resonates to the prince but it is attuned to Hollin. No one else can use the ring."
"Which is why," Hollin continued smoothly, "I intend to accompany the embassy to the prince." The shocked silence that followed her announcement was more profound then she had anticipated.
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