Dear Lady Ceridwyn,
I rose this morning longing to see you but an invitation from Sir Albert to go hunting has
presented itself as early as can be. We will return after dinner sometime as we will ride up in to the highlands. I also have a request of you. I know how much you are dying to see me without my mask and I feel it is now time. Meet me at Brechin castle after sundown and I will reveal myself to you.
Faithfully Yours,
FM
Ceridwyn tucked the letter in her draw and quickly dressed herself and went downstairs. She was delighted to see that the horrid sisters were leaving to return to their own castle and everyone had gathered in the hall.
“I’m sorry to see you all go,” said Lady Munro.
“We will be back for the wedding,” confirmed Sir Hugh and his wife smiled in agreement.
Ceridwyn sighed with relief as the carriage went down the road and disappeared and as soon as it was gone she disappeared for the day cuddling up in a window seat with her embroidery. She sewed for hours occasionally glancing out the window at the position of the sun in the sky and her heart skipped a beat when she suddenly looked up and saw it disappearing behind the hills and she never once noticed Fingal or Artemis return and she hoped with all her heart he would make it back in time.
When there were no traces of the sun left in the sky, Ceridwyn draped a long fur trimmed cape around her and made her way outside in the darkness. It wasn’t as easy as she thought walking along the trail in the night but the moon cast a silvery glow over the lake guiding her towards Brechin castle. She looked behind her several times but there was no indication that Fingal was behind her nor could she see anyone in front of her. She kept moving along the path that in the night seemed obscure and foreign. The snow crunched under her feet and a few overhanging branches grazed her and it seemed as though she had walked for ages when suddenly she turned a corner and there was the castle glowing in the moonlight. She approached it slowly moving out from the trees but there was no sign of Fingal Munro. She moved up towards the castle and into the ruins, but he was nowhere in sight. “Fingal,” she called out softly and there was nothing but a soft ripple in the water. She moved closer to the front of the castle facing the water and paused at the opening and still looking around cautiously. Where was he, she wondered? Perhaps he had forgotten or perhaps he had fallen asleep. She sighed wearily and turned sideways peering down the length of the loch when suddenly she froze in her place. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the most terrifying sight. The reflection in the water brought forth a serpent-like shape with a large head and long neck. She screamed loudly and turned to run, but as she did she ran straight into someone standing nearby. “Ceridwyn! It’s me.”
It was Fingal Munro. She collapsed into him and sobbed. “Are you alright?”
“Did you see it?” she asked as she stepped back.
“See what?”
“There was something in the water,” she said excitedly. She was frantic and breathing heavily.
“Calm down. It’s alright. I think you just frightened yourself.”
“I saw it,” she said turning around and looking behind her. The water was moving in ripples and waves as if there had been a sudden disturbance. Whatever she saw was gone and there was nothing left but the glow of the moon over the surface.
“Perhaps it was the shadow of the overlying branches. Sometimes they can look rather frightening in the evening light. And even the ripples in the water can play tricks with the eyes.”
She sighed in defeat but still convinced of what she saw. “How long were you standing there? Why didn’t you say something?”
“I’m sorry. I arrived only two minutes ago and I saw you standing there and the reflection of the moon dancing off your lovely hair and I stopped to admire you. You look so beautiful. And I was about to say hello when you turned and screamed.”
“I’m so glad you were there.”
“So am I. And now I promised you that I would remove the mask so you could see my scar.”
“Of course,” she said nervously.
She waited and he stood quite still for a moment and suddenly he reached up and pulled the hood back and golden waves came tumbling out. He had lovely golden hair. Nothing like Artemis. Then reached up and put his hand on the mask and ripped it off. Ceridwyn gasped. She was speechless and no words would come out as she gazed back, not at Fingal Munro, but . . . Sir Gregory Dorrigen of Tamworth!
They stared at each other momentarily for the first time since the tournament. His blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “I’m sorry to have to deceive you so but under the circumstances I found it necessary. I hope you can forgive me but before your heart brings me into judgment please allow me to explain.”
“But . . . Are you Fingal Munro?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Please let me tell you of the story which led to my losing the tournament at Berwyck and ending up here as Sir Fingal Munro.”
“So there really is no Fingal Munro.”
“Well, sort of. But let me explain. After I left you and your brothers at Alnwyck I set off for London but when I reached New Castle I was ambushed on the road. I was hauled off my horse and taken to Blackthorne Hall, five Miles away. I swear to you Ceridwyn I was never at Woodcroft. I have been there before but that was two years ago in which I did dance with Lydia Goldsworthy but I assure you it was not this time. I never went there. I hope you can believe me.”
“Yes, I heard your explanation at the tournament. And who would do such a thing?”
“As I explained to your father at the tournament. Only, it wasn’t the Munro’s like I said to your Father. In that I was dishonest. As I arrived at Berwyck I was about to accuse Sir Richard Fenton of this crime but as I stood there before your father and explaining I realized that Artemis Munro was there and had indeed won the tournament. You see, the Munro’s are my cousins. My mother was a sister to the Earl of Inverness and after she died I spent a lot of time there at Adair as I was growing up. The Earl was like a father to me and especially after my father died. When he heard that I had been kidnapped and the rumours that were floating around he devised a plan to send Artemis to win your hand on my behalf in the hopes that we would convince your father afterwards and once I was released we would then wed.”
“Why didn’t you just say something then,” said Ceridwyn.
“Because your father didn’t believe me and it would have made the Munro’s look like liars and then we would have had to explain their actions. I saw my cousin seated there with all of you and it became clear and I just knew what my uncle had done to try and redeem the situation. It seemed the only way for you and I to be together was for everyone to believe that I was this Fingal Munro. You see my Aunt and Uncle always called me Fingal when I visited Scotland as a boy since I was always fascinated about the monster when I was young.”
She grinned softly at him. “And so then after all that an adder ousted you off your horse.”
“No,” he defended himself again. “I did that on purpose but the adder just showed up at the right moment. It couldn’t have been more perfectly timed. I thought it best my cousin win.”
“You mean you did all of that to win my hand.”
“Yes and sacrificed my perfect winning record just to get you back,” he said softly and lifted her hand and kissed it and then he kissed her lips gently and pulled her into his arms. The moon sparkled over them like a diamond ring as the lovers embraced each other on the shores of the loch. When they pulled apart Sir Gregory smiled at her warmly. “You never once suspected who I was?”
“No,” she answered. “I had no idea.”
“I think Deirdre was determined to throw you little hints like Sir Gregory is only five miles away,” they both laughed. “What about your parents,” he frowned. “Will they be happy?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll explain it to them or perhaps your Uncle will help us. My father might listen to him.
“I can’t wait to tell
my sister’s. I wonder what Gwen is doing now.” Sir Gregory nodded and took Ceridwyn’s hand in his and escorted her back to the castle. Ceridwyn felt like she was in heaven for she was now here beloved’s and he was hers and nothing could ever vex her again.
Chapter Twenty Three
The Dragon Lord of Dinefwr
Gwen stood on the shore of the River Seiont as the wind swept against her face and blowing back her long dark tresses. The Dyfed was now in sight and she could see Pryderi, the Welsh Prince standing with Sir Trystan at the starboard proudly. Their eyes met and held fast. There was so much to say, so much to tell and do. It had been a very long week since they had met in secret on the rocky shores of the Welsh coast where they sat on the rocks early one morning under a starry host and swore their affections to one another.
Gwen watched with great eagerness as the Dyfed pulled into the bay and the first thing Pryderi did when he got off the boat was embrace Gwen. She jumped into his arms and he swung her around and then he kissed her firmly and passionately as he ran his fingers wildly through her hair.
“Gwen how I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you. I’m so glad you are back.” She hugged him firmly and they walked along the beach together hand in hand.
“I hope those children behaved,” he chided and she laughed.
“They were very good. I thoroughly enjoyed them. And your Aunt has travelled to Cardiff at the request of her sister as she was quite ill. I detained from accompanying her because of the children and I also wanted to be here when you arrived.”
“You must tell me all about the children,”
“Of course I will. You must tell me of your trip. Did you see your father?”
“Yes, I did. He was in good spirits and he looks forward to returning to Gwynedd soon.”
“I look forward to meeting him. Is he anything like you?”
“Well,” said Pryderi. “I suppose that we are generally thought to be alike. I have his dark hair and tall form. We have the same broad chin and the same shaped nose although his eyes are brown.”
Arm in arm they walked back to the castle and Gwen was in her element all that day laughing and talking with Pryderi and Sir Trystan and that evening when Gwen descended the stairs of Caenarfon she was a sight to behold dressed in a royal blue velvet gown decorated in gold embroidery. Her hair was woven with fine gold thread and around her neck a dainty gold cross. Pryderi took her hand and kissed it and she blushed sweetly and the three of them proceeded to the great hall.
“Ahh, it’s good to be back,” said Trystan and he devoured the goblet of mead in front of him. “Nothin like good ole Welsh mead.”
Pryderi grinned at his friend. “Aren’t you even going to try the French wine I brought back?
“No thank-you,” said Trystan smartly.
“Trystan like’s his mead,” said Pryderi. “He says that Welsh mead is the finest drink anywhere.”
“Really?” said Gwen. “Well, have you tried the mead at Berwyck? I always thought it to be the best.”
“Yes,” said Trystan. “I have tried it and it was very good quality but I find Welsh mead is very fine in quality and far superior to other meads I have tasted but the finest drink I ever had was one I tasted in Scotland. I happened to try it when I was in Lothian staying with the Dunbar’s. I can’t remember its name but it was superb. I never had anything like it. In fact it was said to be an ancient recipe handed down from several generations and apparently it was given to the Dunbar’s by a race of faeries!” he said excitedly. “Believed to have magical qualities too!” he added with serious conviction.
“Oh don’t start on the faerie stuff,” said Pryderi rolling his eyes.
“It’s true,” said Trystan. “Try it.”
“Did it do something magical for you, did it?” asked Pryderi sharply in an unbelieving tone.
“Well, yes,” replied Trystan. “I had trouble sleeping for days and when I had a few of these drinks, it knocked me straight out. Slept like a baby.”
“For goodness sake!” said Pryderi with impatience and Gwen was trying not to laugh. “Any drink would knock you out if you had too many.”
“Oh,” said Trystan. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
At that moment the steward rushed into the room with quickness and stopped beside Pryderi. In his hand he held a small parchment that was rolled up and sealed with wax. “A message for you sir,” said the young steward. “Just arrived unexpectedly.
“A message? From who?” asked Pryderi.
“Lord Elidir Wylde, the Earl of Dinefwr, Sir,” said the steward lifting a brow in speculation and Gwen noticed.
“Elidir?” said Pryderi with surprise. “I wonder what he wants?’ He quickly rose from his seat and took the message from the steward’s hand and left the room to read Lord Dinnefwr’s message. And after a moment he returned to the hall but as he did he threw the message in the fire. Gwen looked up at him strangely. Why had he done such a thing? What did this Lord Wylde have to say that could not be seen again? “Gwen, I’m sorry but I must leave you again briefly.”
“When?”
“Now. But I promise I’ll be back within a week.”
“Where are you going?”
“To see Lord Wylde, the Earl of Dinefwr.”
“Lord Wylde,” said Trystan with a grin. “The old dragon Lord.”
“What?” questioned Gwen. “What do you mean by old dragon Lord?”
Pryderi rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t have said that! I’ve had enough trouble trying to get notions of Cadwallader out of her head.”
“Well it’s true,” said Trystan. “He believes devoutly that dragons roamed Wales and the British Isles at one time. Crazy old man. He’s . . . wild, just like the names says. He even claims his ancestors owned a dragon.”
“What?” said Gwen. Her eyes lit up with fascination. “Really?”
“Oh no,” said Pryderi burying his head in his hand. “Did you have to tell her that?”
“I would love to meet Lord Wylde,” Gwen pleaded.
“I can’t let you come Gwen.”
“Why not?” asked Gwen standing to her feet.
“Now look what you started,” said Pryderi firmly to his friend. “Gwen I can’t let you come. Dinefwr is three days journey from here and over rough terrain. It . . . it’s dangerous! It’s certainly no trip for a lady.”
“I travelled all the way here from Berwyck and the road to Dinefwr is surely no more dangerous than that and besides it follows the coastline,” she replied smartly.
“Well mostly,” he replied. “And we’ll be travelling on horseback and like I said it’s dangerous and Lord Wylde, he’s . . . very eccentric.”
“I like eccentric.”
“There is no point arguing with the lady,” said Trystan. “I think she’s coming with us.”
Pryderi sighed deeply. “Fine but that little horse is not coming! He can stay here with the rest of the children.” Pryderi walked out of the room swiftly and Gwen and Trystan burst into laughter.
Gwen went to her room and prepared herself for the journey which they would undertake directly in the cover of night and Gwen knew it must be serious for Pryderi to start the journey at such an hour. And it was just as well Lady Anwyn had gone to visit with her sister for she never would have allowed Pryderi to take Gwen with him. And they headed out that night, the three of them dressed in suede breeches, woolen undergarments and woolen capes and scarves and Gwen wore her high brown boots which she brought with her for occasions such as these. She was totally thrilled as they rode off into the darkness. What an adventure! If only her sisters could see her now.
Gwen rode a chestnut gelding alongside Trystan and Pryderi and she sighed with fascination as a soft mist rolled in off the sea enveloping the countryside. The road between Caenarfon and Dinefwr was one of the most beautiful in Wales but Gwen saw little of it the first night except for the silvery glow of the moonlight shining over the sea and the countryside and its
magical glow made Gwen feel like she was in a faerie tale. By the third day of travel dawn came with more revelation of the beauty of the countryside in all its splendour with snow-capped mountains, and meadows of green, jagged cliffs and a sea roaring up against the shore. One inlet revealed a splendid castle of grey stone overlooking the sea and mountains to the east which time had now ravaged with weeds and vines and Gwen was mesmerized by the unspoiled beauty of the Welsh countryside. “Beautiful countryside isn’t it?” said Pryderi.
“Oh yes,” Gwen agreed. “Very beautiful.”
“Think you could get used to it?”
“I’m sure I could.”
“Tell me about Lord Wylde” asked Gwen as they rode along. “Tell me about his eccentricities.”
“Well, he and my father have been friends since they were boys. He’s been like an Uncle to me. I spent a considerable amount of time at Dinefwr castle when I was about twelve and I visit there frequently.”
“Did you see any dragons?” asked Trystan smartly.
“No, I did not!” he replied sharply and Gwen giggled. “He’s just from an older generation Gwen. He’s very old fashioned.”
“Old fashioned?” said Trystan. “He’s anything but old fashioned. He’s wild and adventurous.”
“I wouldn’t say it in those words, but he is different,” said Pryderi.
“He’s different all right,” said Trystan. “He used to fly a black dragon banner.”
“Really?” said Gwen.
“Yes,” Pryderi agreed. “His mother was from the Wrexham clan, supporters of the Duke and he grew up torn between the two sides and joined the dragons when he came of age. My father always used to say it was an act of rebellion against his father that he never got along with and well he wasn’t exactly the favoured heir of Dinefwr. He had older brothers. His brothers were all killed in battle at a young age and now he is Lord of Dinefwr. He finally fell out of agreement with Luther Wyvern And he’s just very strange. He lives in this Anglo Saxon Castle built centuries ago and it’s a dark and foreboding place.
Kingdom of Dragons (Kingdom Series Book 2) Page 23