by Hiatt, Bill
“But,” said Nurse Florence, glancing at the silver goblets in front of each of us, “no alcohol!” Sir Arian raised an eyebrow. “I know that except for Khalid, they are all adults by the standards of Annwn, but in the society from which they come, they are still below the legal drinking age. I’m the only legal adult in the party, and I am responsible for them.”
“Aw, Mom,” said Dan jokingly. “I could really go for a beer right about now.” It looked as if a faerie servant was actually approaching at that moment with a frosty mug, but one withering glance from Nurse Florence sent the servant back to the kitchen.
“Nobody’s ever going to know,” said Gordy, somewhat less jokingly. “All the faerie warriors get to drink what they want. Anyway, I just turned eighteen.”
“Which is not twenty-one, now is it?” replied Nurse Florence.
“My parents let me have champagne on New Year’s Eve,” pointed out Carlos.
“And if your parents were here, they could let you have whatever you want, but I…just can’t,” said Nurse Florence, almost apologetically. “I know this is awkward. I suppose it is the nature of our relationship at school that makes me insist.”
“Being the school nurse is just your cover, isn’t it?” asked Gordy, still looking for a loophole.
“And to be good at that ‘cover,’ I have to live it,” replied Nurse Florence with an air of finality.
Having figured out that the moment was awkward, Sir Arian started suggesting different kinds of juice. I found it hard not to giggle over the whole situation, though I think Gordy was actually a little irritated.
Once we all got past the beverage-selection impasse and focused on what we wanted to eat, we were served fairly quickly. Nurse Florence had pineapple juice and what looked like the world’s largest fruit salad. I think she had been thinking about the meal from a diet standpoint and was a little overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the thing—why are women always on diets? Nonetheless, it did look as if someone had been cutting and artistically arranging fruit for hours to produce the salad, and once Nurse Florence got started, she quickly seemed to forget about the whole concept of calories.
Sir Arian had what he told us was roast boar; the idea was not especially appealing, but I had to admit that it looked very tender. I had always been a sucker for Thanksgiving dinner, so I ended up with turkey—you know, the kind that is so well prepared it just melts in your mouth, accompanied by the smoothest gravy ever, sage dressing, buttery mashed potatoes, and cranberry sauce that seemed to have been made from fresh cranberries. Stan got equally well-prepared roast lamb, with mint jelly that he swore was prepared from fresh ingredients. We all knew, of course, that our various selections had to have been magically created, but who cared when they were that good?
Just as we were finishing, I heard Gwynn’s booming voice. “Now it is time for Taliesin the bard to sing for us,” an announcement that was followed by raucous applause. I had forgotten all about Gwynn’s earlier request, and I rose somewhat nervously. Faeries were used to hearing some of the finest singers and musicians in the universe. I was good—but was I good enough for this crowd?
By the time I had walked to the center of the room, a group of faerie musicians with a variety of instruments had assembled to accompany me. I couldn’t exactly do rock for this audience, so I searched Taliesin 1’s memories and performed some of the songs that had been popular at Arthur’s court. My magic flowed through the words to keep me in sync with the musicians, who seemed surprised but pleased by how well we coordinated without rehearsal. The audience responded well, and once I loosened up, I actually enjoyed myself. Since Halloween, Carla’s illness had left my band on hiatus, so this was really the first public performance I had done in a couple of months. It reminded me of why I had been drawn to music in the first place, even before I had been awakened and actually became a good performer. Well, I shouldn’t be overly modest. Perhaps a great performer.
When the performance ended, the faeries applauded enthusiastically, none more so than Gwynn himself. “Taliesin, it has been ages—literally, since I have heard a human musician who could really perform. Your songs have filled me with joy.”
“I am happy that I was able to please Your Majesty and the court,” I said solemnly, trying not to blush too obviously.
“Now we should retire,” suggested Gwynn. “We faeries sometimes do feast all night, but tomorrow, Taliesin, you, I, and Viviane have a great work of magic to perform, and we should be well-rested. I have summoned servants who will show all of you to your quarters and see to your needs.”
After we had said our good-nights and turned toward the door, there was indeed a row of faerie servants waiting for us, but something struck me as odd. All of them were incredibly good-looking. Yeah, I know, faeries in general are good-looking by any reasonable human standard, but these seemed to be a cut above the norm, even for faeries. The one who gestured to Nurse Florence was a man, but all the others were women, which seemed like a weird coincidence. It’s true that teenage guys sometimes have overactive imaginations, but I did begin to wonder about how broadly the faeries were ready to interpret the phrase, “see to your needs.”
Apparently, Nurse Florence had the same misgiving about the arrangements. “I should…uh…make clear the…uh…the customs of our world,” she began, uncharacteristically tongue-tied. “While we appreciate your hospitality, there are certain parts of it of which we may not partake.”
The faeries looked puzzled. They were not going to make this easy; I could just tell.
“We are not sure of what you speak,” said her faerie escort in a low, melodious voice. “We will honor your wishes, but you will need to speak more plainly.”
It was time for me to step up and get Nurse Florence off the hook. “We could be wrong, but both…Viviane and I had the feeling that perhaps your hospitality extended to…certain areas that…we could not really…” Crap! I wasn’t able to come out and just say it either, especially considering how embarrassing it would be if we were wrong.
Out of nowhere, Stan came to the rescue. “Nurse Florence has committed herself to a man in our world, and the rest of us also have commitments, as well as being considered too young in our society to engage in…love-making.” The faeries nodded, though some of them looked disappointed. On the whole, that was a better reaction from the standpoint of our egos than if they all looked relieved.
“Speak for yourself!” snapped Gordy. “I am eighteen, dammit, and if I didn’t get to drink, I ought to at least get to…”
“Gordy!” cut in Dan. “Let’s not make this more awkward than it already is.”
“How can you be too young, when you are warriors already?” asked the faerie servant standing next to Stan. She looked into his eyes with such obvious desire that he turned bright red.
“Damn good question!” said Gordy, far too loudly.
“GORDY!” said Dan in his insistent, I’m-the-team-captain tone.
“All right!” said Gordy sullenly.
There was a little more subdued bickering and questioning, but finally the conversation died a well-deserved death, and the faeries led us to our chambers. The one with me, exceptionally good looking, even better than Nurse Florence—and I don’t say that about too many women—asked me if I was sure I did not want to make love.
“As much as I appreciate the offer, the unconscious girl we brought with us is my love, and I intend to remain true to her.”
The faerie sighed. “You are as noble as you are brave and handsome. I will respect your wishes.” Nonetheless, she did kiss me, and I had to admit that my heart pounded a little faster. Damn! Aside from Carla, this faerie was the first girl who wanted me and wasn’t evil—not a combination I seemed to encounter very often.
As if the initial temptation were not enough, the faerie then wanted to undress me. I had to explain that in my society men generally dressed and undressed themselves, except in sexual situations. She nodded, pulled the covers back, and then, mu
ch to my surprise, crawled into the bed.
“What are you doing?” I asked. I was going for an authoritative tone, but my voice cracked just a little bit.
“Just warming up the bed for you,” she responded innocently. “It has gotten a little cold. I can stay all night to help keep it warm, if you want me to.”
Yeah, I’ll bet you can!
I summoned up every ounce of willpower I had left and insisted she leave. When I finally got into bed, it smelled of her, and it was a long time before I could get to sleep.
CHAPTER 10: A TWIST OF FATE?
The next morning was interesting, to say the least. Stan looked as if he hadn’t really slept. I guessed that his faerie didn’t easily take no for an answer either, and it may have taken him quite a while to figure out how to get rid of her. Of course, he might have not had any sleep precisely because he didn’t get rid of her, but Stan had more will-power than people gave him credit for, and he seemed more worn-out than guilty. He let me examine him to make sure David was still pretty well submerged, and he seemed to be, though the connections I had forged between them were fraying somewhat. Once I got Carla back to herself, I needed to spend time reinforcing Stan’s fragile equilibrium.
As soon as he saw me, Dan looked me in the eye and said, “Don’t worry—I didn’t betray Eva,” as if that was going to be my first thought. Well, perhaps it would have crossed my mind at some point. Apparently he too had a struggle last night, or I doubted he would have brought the subject up at all.
As for the others, Khalid was developing a perpetually amazed expression, but he evidently looked young enough that his faerie had not tried to talk him into having sex. Shar and Carlos were poker-faced, but Gordy seemed much happier than he should have under the circumstances. Of course, being a teenage guy, he could have been trying to create the impression that something happened that didn’t. Yeah, I know, it’s strange, but it happens more than you can imagine. I could easily have figured out what had happened to each of them last night with a little probing, but I seldom poked around in people’s minds unless I had to, so the mystery of whether Gordy did or didn’t would have to remain a mystery.
After a brief but incredibly satisfying faerie breakfast, Gwynn led us out into the courtyard, which was now flooded with a misty early morning sunshine. Gwynn had clearly had his sorcerers working since before daybreak, or perhaps even all night, and a large patch of ground was covered with mystical symbols in faintly glowing gold ink. Four points projected from roughly equidistant spots around the circular edge of the design, making me think of compass points. In the center of the design, Carla’s bed had been placed, and the two faerie healers stood on either side of the bed, watching Carla intently.
“The pattern on the ground is intended to amplify our magic,” Gwynn explained. “One of us will stand at each point during the casting. Your men and some of mine will circle us for protection, though we almost certainly won’t need it here.”
“Isn’t there one point too many?” I asked.
Gwynn chuckled a little. “You at one, me at one, Viviane at one, and I have a special guest. Ah, here she comes now.”
Gwynn waved in the general direction of the keep. I could see a beautiful female figure, doubtless also a faerie, advancing toward us, but she was not attired like Gwynn’s people. Instead, she wore a blue-black cloak upon which stars seemed to gleam. The silver diadem upon her head suggested that she, like Gwynn, was faerie royalty of some kind.
“Taliesin, Viviane, allow me to introduce Mab, queen of some of the Irish faeries.”
Nurse Florence and I both bowed, and Mab nodded to us.
“Mab was visiting me on a diplomatic mission, and, hearing of your problem, she asked if she could help.”
“Yes, Taliesin,” said Mab in a soft voice. “I was moved by your story and by the challenge of this strange new magic. If you will have me, I think I can contribute much to your efforts.”
“We are honored by your participation,” I said with another bow.
Not being crazy, I was obviously going to accept an offer like that, though I was amazed that, at least this once, I was having decent luck for a change. Taliesin 1 had never met Mab, but even then she had been active among the faeries, and rumors suggested she was indeed very powerful, so much so that she might be considered the equal of Gwynn himself.
Gwynn and Mab stepped aside for a few moments of private conversation, so I took the opportunity to touch base with Nurse Florence. “Did you know Queen Mab was here?”
“No,” replied Nurse Florence, “though the Order has been getting lots of bits and pieces of information about political changes in the faerie realms. There are rumors of an attempt by Oberon and Titania to gain the rule of all of Annwn, and other rumors of a bid by Arawn, your old ‘friend,’ to regain that rule. Gwynn has been seeking support among the Irish faeries, which is no doubt why Mab is here. Keeping in mind that neither of them is married now, there is even a possibility of a marriage alliance.” Mab seemed to me somehow a little too delicate for a warrior type like Gwynn, but then human arranged marriages often produced even more unlikely combinations.
“There is something else you should know,” added Nurse Florence, looking around to make sure Gwynn and Mab were far enough away not to overhear. “Morgan has become involved in this faerie politics. Right now, as I think you already know, the divided rule of Annwn necessitates agreement among the various rulers in order to take certain actions. Gwynn has been trying to get all the faeries to unite in condemning Morgan, which would make it easier for him to take her prisoner, but Oberon keeps blocking him. When you were the first Taliesin, you probably remember hearing a story to the effect that Oberon was the son of Julius Caesar and Morgan.”
“I think I did, but that’s impossible, isn’t it? Morgan was Arthur’s half-sister, born in my own time, but Caesar lived five hundred years earlier. Besides that, how could a half faerie and a mortal produce a full faerie?”
“No one gave that story much credit until recently. However, it does explain Oberon’s behavior. Many folk in Annwn really don’t want anyone with faerie blood living among humans, and no one wants faeries and other spell casters performing magic or other acts that could come to the attention of mortals. That’s why Ceridwen was so unpopular with the rulers of Annwn.
“Well, Morgan became Ceridwen’s ally, a choice not likely to endear her to those rulers, and her appearances in the mortal realm, like the storm she stirred up outside the hospital, are making those same rulers profoundly nervous. Oberon, making a play to become sole ruler, is taking a considerable political risk to come to Morgan’s defense. However, if she is related to him, his behavior makes sense.”
“But unless someone discovered magic that would enable time travel, that story is still impossible,” I pointed out.
Nurse Florence gave me a humorless smile. “You, of all people, should realize what the other possibility is.”
When she framed the subject like that, it did not take me long to realize what she meant. “Reincarnation?”
“Exactly. We still don’t know much about the way it works, and it was thought until recently that faeries did not reincarnate the way humans do, but it now appears that on rare occasions they do. There is evidence that some time during the conquest of Gaul, Caesar slept with a powerful faerie named the Morrigan, who had been worshiped as a goddess of war by the Irish. She had probably been trying to seduce him into giving up his campaign in Celtic territory, but somehow the plan backfired.
“Anyway, their brief encounter produced a son, who grew up to be Oberon. There is now evidence that Morgan is either a manifestation of the Morrigan, or perhaps just a simple reincarnation. At some point, Morgan has shown Oberon that evidence and convinced him that she is his mother. As to Caesar’s background, during his own lifetime he was loudly claiming descent from Venus, and there is also some possibility that Caesar’s mother was either a reincarnation of, or at least possessed by, an earlier faerie queen n
amed Brunehaut.”
By this point I was feeling dizzy. “So everything we know about ancient history is false?”
“Says the bard from King Arthur’s court that most historians today doubt even existed. No, everything isn’t false, but between the loss of so many records over time and the conscious work of different groups to rewrite history in their own interest—and particularly to get supernatural elements dismissed as myths—some of it definitely is.”
Nurse Florence could see I was more than a little frustrated by all of these revelations. “Tal, I’m not telling you this to upset you, but I want you to know what you are up against. Morgan is not a solo act any more than Ceridwen was, as yesterday’s events pretty well demonstrate. She couldn’t have found Hellawes that easily, and she certainly couldn’t have recruited a dragon, without powerful help. If Oberon himself is not responsible, then at the very least his efforts to defend her are encouraging other forces to provide her with more concrete support. The good news is that Morgan has enormously overplayed her hand. If Gwynn can find proof that Morgan is responsible for such serious incursions into his own territory, even Oberon won’t be able to defend her. Until then, though, we have to be a little careful. We can protect ourselves against Morgan, but if we—”
“Before we begin,” boomed Gwynn, obviously finished with his conversation with Mab, “I have a gift for one of my guests. Khalid, please come forward.”
Now that was a twist! The guys had been required to fight to prove their worthiness for faerie swords, but Gwynn was apparently going to present Khalid with something without requiring any kind of test. Well, the kid did have a way of getting people to sympathize with him, and perhaps when they first met, Gwynn had felt some of the hardship Khalid had gone through. This would not be the only time a faerie had helped a child.