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Authors: Traci Harding

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BOOK: Chronicle of Ages
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‘I must. I have things to do, places to be,' he justified, politely.

Aella breathed a sigh of relief as Bryce and Samson came through the doors of the Great Hall with two guards in tow, who were carrying the chair of the hooded invalid. Bridgit gasped in horror when she realised who the passenger was and backed away for fear of the man.

‘Highness?' Urien noted her distress and looked to the cause. ‘Will someone please tell me what in heaven's name be going on?'

‘In heaven's name … I can enlighten thee.' Conan's voice croaked out from beneath his large dark hood, as the two burly guards lowered his seat to the ground.

‘And who might thee be, Sir?' Urien cocked his head to inquire, sounding about as agitated as Bryce had ever heard him.

‘I am the ghost of mystery's past, come to define thy rightful place in the world,' advised Conan, whereupon all hint of joy fell from Urien's face.

‘My rightful place be ruling in Gwent!' he defended. Knowing so little about his claim to his birthright, Urien feared this stranger had come forward to disprove his lineage.

‘Calm thyself, Highness.' Samson neared to assure him. ‘This man be here to give, not take away.'

‘Ha!' Bridgit scoffed, threatening to expose Conan as she came forward to confront him. ‘That would be a new trick for thee.' She managed to maintain the protocol of the proceedings and did not mention his name.

‘Thou art thy mother's daughter, and thy father's daughter also.' Conan let Bridgit know that he knew who she was, seeing both Vortipor and the Lady Cara in the woman before him.

‘Aye, I am the Lady Cara's daughter, sure enough, which be why I believe thee should still be rotting in hell,' she spat back at him.

‘Highness!' Urien was surprised at her. He'd never before seen Bridgit so uncivil.

‘Nay.' Conan accepted the blame. ‘Her Highness hast good reason to despise me … I kidnapped and raped her good mother in cold blood.' He regained his son's full attention. ‘And the Lady Cara would have died by my hand that day had Prince Bryce not saved her from my battery.'

Bridgit gasped, as the tears of past horror began streaming down her face. ‘But thou wast little more than
a child.' She looked to Bryce, seeing him in an entirely new light.

‘Thou hast this Prince to thank for thy life, Urien,' Conan continued, ‘for thanks to he, thy mother lived long enough to die giving birth to thee.'

Bridgit's horrified eyes turned to Urien. As shock turned to elation they embraced, realising they were brother and sister.

‘I have kindred,' announced Urien, immediately catapulted into a state of euphoria by the fact. ‘Lots of it!' He let Bridgit go as his mind boggled. ‘Not only have I a sister, but I have a nephew and a stepbrother!'

Those present couldn't help but get caught up in the man's excitement. However, it abruptly waned as he looked back to Conan. ‘And I have a father.'

‘Nay.' Conan shook his head. ‘Thee sprang from my royal seed, but I wast never thy father and will never claim to be. Samson, Leoline and Taliesin art thy fathers.' He paused to catch his breath, for he wheezed terribly — his lungs were failing from living in the damp and cold. ‘I sought this meeting only to confess the truth which hast been kept from thee due to the dark nature of my crimes. An apology or an explanation will not aid thee like the simple facts. They be all I have to offer in atonement —'

Conan's form suddenly collapsed into death, Bridgit began to shed tears of relief. Aella snapped out of her shock to comfort her friend after the eye-opening news. As Urien didn't seem to know what to do with himself and Samson was distracted blessing Conan's corpse, Bryce thought he'd best see how the young King fared.

‘Urien?' Bryce requested his attention as he neared.

The young man's eyes were wide as they looked to Bryce. ‘Rhun be my brother-in-law!' Strangely, he sounded devastated by the realisation.

‘Not so terrible.' Bryce drove home his view with a slap on the shoulder.

‘I owe thee my life!' Urien gripped his head, in a fluster. ‘This changes everything! As my kin I must warn ye.' Urien shot Samson a sideways glance of determination and Samson smiled, apparently pleased by his resolve.

‘Warn us about what, Urien?' Bryce confronted him to inquire. Urien may have been large, but Bryce was the trainer of all the Master warriors of Gwynedd, Powys and Dyfed, and so feared no one.

‘This war against Morcant the Bernician be a farce! A diversion Talorg, Elidyr, Riderich and others devised, for their mutual benefit, to prevent Rhun meeting his Pictish brother who be challenging Talorg's throne at present.'

‘Rhun hast no Pictish brother!' Blain wasn't following any of this. ‘How could he have? Bar that Maelgwn wast unfaithful to his good queen?'

‘I am only telling thee what I myself wast told,' Urien stated, urging Bryce to hear him out. ‘Talorg swears he thought Rhun was living a double life when first he wast confronted by Bridei. Talorg fears that if the High King wast to meet this mirror image of himself, he will surely side with him, for Bridei be the rightful ruler of the Picts, according to the traditional female royal line. The only thing Morcant and Caten have done to warrant this attack be to ally themselves to Talorg's opposition.'

‘Morcant and Caten have not attacked Riderich?' Bryce was stunned and needed confirmation.

Urien shook his head. ‘Not since Riderich reclaimed Clyde some time back and avenged his father's death. The Bernicians and the Lothians have basically kept to themselves.'

‘Who else knows this?' Bryce looked Urien in the eyes to have the truth out of him.

‘Elifler,' Urien began and then hesitated.

‘Well, that goes without saying … who else?' Bryce urged him to be out with it. ‘Conell?'

‘Nay.' Urien pulled a reluctant face. He didn't want to betray his friend, but if he didn't then he betrayed his whole family. ‘Blain knows.'

‘My brother!' As Bryce's eyes opened wide with fury, Urien backed up a few paces.

‘Blain had won over so many members of the high council, that he never expected to have to challenge Rhun about any of this. Had Blain been named High King as planned, he would have supported Talorg and wiped Bridei off the face of the earth before Rhun ever knew he existed. But now Rhun be High King, the situation hast worsened and this counter-plot hast come into play. I should be on my way to Arwystli right now, to learn the strategy and receive my orders.'

‘So thee and Blain art willing to betray us, the Goddess and our people?' Bryce calmed as his anger turned to sorrow and disappointment.

This comment grabbed the ladies' attention and Aella and Bridgit approached to hear the rest of Urien's confession.

‘Hey,' Urien defended. ‘I voted for Rhun for High King, not Blain. Someone Blain trusts had to keep an eye on his movements.'

‘So when wast thou of the mind to tell us?' Bryce closed the gap begin Urien and himself, backing the young ruler up to a wall.

‘As soon as he became a threat,' Urien vowed, rationally.

‘Thou dost owe thy existence to the Goddess, Urien.' Bryce gripped hold of the taller man's face with both hands to stare into his eyes and drive home his message. ‘Her minions aided me to save thy mother from certain death and this much I promise thee … she who created thee can destroy thee just as easily. Cross the sacred mother and her minions shall show thee a death that be second to none!' Bryce let go of him and stormed away to regain his composure. ‘This explains thy wanting to relocate in a hurry,' Bryce commented on his way past Samson. ‘Who wants to live on an Isle that be embroiled in civil war!' he declared ahead of slamming the door closed in his wake.

Urien had rarely heard Bryce speak of his beliefs with such conviction, but it was still difficult to believe some of the tales the Britons told about the Goddess. In reality Bryce's wrath scared Urien far more than any ancient Goddess' did.

‘I think he took that rather well.' Urien looked to Bridgit and Aella, who were both staring at him with spiteful expressions.

‘Thou hast a long way to go before thou art a brother of mine,' Bridgit told him solemnly and as Urien
approached to make an intimate apology, she departed the Great Hall.

Aella lingered longer to stare at the man who had been prepared to betray her husband and her family. ‘How can thee claim to subscribe to both of the faiths of thy people, when in truth, thou hast no faith in any form of higher spiritual order. Like thy father before thee, Urien of Gwent believes in and serves only himself.' She turned and made briskly for the door, pausing briefly to have words with Samson. ‘My Lord Bishop, I would greatly appreciate it if thee would have that diseased monster removed from my home at once.'

‘I shall see to it.' Samson rose and bowed to the lady of the house, whereby she departed from their midst.

‘Jesus, what a mess!' Urien collapsed into a chair.

‘Do not drag the son of the Almighty into this situation,' Samson scolded. ‘I am ashamed it took this long to reach this resolve. Loyalty to a friend cannot come before the greater concern of the people. The will of God —'

‘Please Samson, spare me the will of God,' Urien held up a hand to silence him. ‘I need to consider our next move.'

22
Cloaking the Mirror

A
few nights after Rhun made it back to Degannwy, Selwyn made an appearance to report on the Pictish ruler, Bridei.

‘What wast thy impression of him? Doth he truly look like me?' Rhun prompted as he poured mead for them both by the fire in his private quarters.

‘Majesty, it be the most extraordinary thing.' Selwyn accepted his goblet from the King. ‘But for the motif that decorates his skin, Bridei could be thee. He appears, talks and even reasons as thou dost.'

‘Did thee ask him if he hast any connection with Morcant the Bernician, or Caten of Lothian?'

‘I did,' Selwyn replied, with a frown. ‘But according to Bridei he hast no dealings with either kingdom.'

‘Could he have been lying?' Rhun posed, desperate
to make sense of the silent revolution unfolding around him.

Selwyn shrugged, awkwardly. ‘'Tis always a possibility. But if my judgement were worth anything, I feel he was telling the truth, Highness.'

Rhun had begun to pace, sensing that the time he had available to work out the puzzle was not abundant. ‘How soon can I meet with Bridei?'

‘Eager to meet thee also, he hast suggested tomorrow night.'

Rhun gave a firm nod to accept. ‘Thou had best get back to Powys before anyone notices thee missing.'

‘Actually, Majesty,' Selwyn hesitated to mention it, ‘Blain hast not been calling upon my advice as often as he used to. Both he and his queen, Javotte, have remained very distanced from me lately.'

‘Just since my appointment, or before that?'

‘Since about the time we learned that Vortipor had fallen ill.' Selwyn clarified. ‘Blain fully expected to be appointed High King, and …' he hesitated to say more, as he had no proof.

‘And what?' Rhun was angered as he realised that Selwyn meant to imply treason. Yet, his own mistrust of Blain had forced him to vote against him for High King. He could not very well blame Selwyn for suggesting what he suspected might be the truth himself. ‘Forgive me, merlin.' Rhun paused to take a deep breath, and turned to the crackling fire to calm his spirit. ‘Am I allowing childhood sentiment to sway my judgement by believing that Blain will not betray me?'

‘I do not for a moment think he would, Majesty,'
Selwyn said assuredly, before his voice turned cynical. ‘Not of his own will. My king may have been a little disappointed not to be named High King, but his queen, Javotte, wast furious. She makes a good show of sweetness and goodwill, but she hast a dark side … I have seen it. Javotte holds a lot of influence over Blain, and she be the one at the heart of his ambitions to rule.'

Deep down Rhun didn't doubt Selwyn's conclusion. Blain adored his Queen and would do anything to please her. ‘And what hast Taliesin to say about all this?' Rhun asked out loud. ‘Doth he intend to stand by and watch while the alliance my parents strove so hard to form be split right through the centre?'

‘The High Merlin cannot interfere in such affairs, he can only observe and advise,' Selwyn reminded the High King of a fact he well knew.

‘So where be his counsel?' Rhun challenged, whereupon Selwyn held his arms wide.

‘I am afraid I am it, Majesty,' he announced, knowing he was an inferior substitute. ‘Taliesin hast already served three generations of Kings. He must retire from public life in this era soon or risk everything he hast worked so hard to achieve. I am doing my very best to fill his shoes, although obviously that will prove humanly impossible.'

When Rhun realised he had insulted the Merlin's capabilities, he climbed down off his pedestal to apologise. ‘I do appreciate thy efforts, Selwyn. I am sorry if I have offended thee.'

Selwyn nodded to accept the apology. ‘Thou hast
greater concerns at present,' he allowed, as he stood and bowed to return to his rightful place. ‘Seek Taliesin, by all means,' Selwyn invited, ‘but he seems more concerned about the distant future than the present these days.'

Rhun nodded to agree with his view. ‘Taliesin lost interest in this age upon mother's departure from us, and his attention seems to have followed her to her current abode. It makes me wonder why he even bothers to remain here?'

‘To oversee those of thy line who art Chosen, of course,' Selwyn advised astutely, surprised by the comment. ‘Do not get so caught up in the little battles of this tiny instance in time and forget thy place in the greater scheme of things … Taliesin hast not.'

‘I understand.' Rhun stood corrected and a little stunned. ‘Perhaps filling Taliesin's shoes shall not prove so impossible,' the High King conceded with a smile.

Selwyn smiled also and with a nod to accept the compliment, he vanished back to Powys.

 

Rhun sat stewing by the fire for some time after Selwyn's departure, pondering whether Taliesin would be of any aid to him. To seek out the High Merlin in his otherworldly abode, Rhun would have to use his psychic teleportation skill, which Taliesin had expressly forbade him to use until such time as he had finished his rule in Gwynedd.

‘Goddamn it, Taliesin!' Rhun threw another log on the fire, having decided against seeking the High Merlin. ‘What be the point of being superhuman if I am
not permitted to utilise my skills?' he queried in frustration.

‘An unnecessary risk, when the universe always provides.'

Rhun turned to find Taliesin seated in the chair that Selwyn had occupied earlier and he smiled broadly upon discovering him. ‘High Merlin … I feared thou wast going to leave me to ride out this nightmare alone.' Rhun returned to his chair, opposite his visitor.

‘I intend to do exactly that,' Taliesin advised, to Rhun's great dismay. ‘But fear not, it hast already been foreseen that the threat to the peace will destroy itself.'

‘Foreseen by whom!' Rhun demanded to know, refusing to rely on any obscure prophecy that the High Merlin had dug up.

‘Foreseen by thee, at thy trial with Gwyn ap Nudd.' Taliesin abruptly put an end to Rhun's reservations as he enlightened him.

‘Tell me what I saw, High Merlin,' the High King half requested, half demanded.

But Taliesin shook his head. ‘To tell thee would be to turn an asset into a hindrance. Better that fate surprise thee than to exhaust thyself trying to prevent the inevitable … which be in the interest of the greater good.'

‘What?' Rhun frowned to appeal. ‘I would never act contrary to our cause, Taliesin! Just tell me what I must do to prevent this conspiracy and I shall do it.'

Taliesin fixed the young ruler with a steady gaze. ‘In order to crush our opposition thee must kill a man.'

‘Name the corpse,' Rhun challenged, ready to depart
at once.

‘It wast thee who named thy adversary in this affair,' Taliesin reminded him. ‘Thee cited Blain, King of Powys.'

Rhun stood, rigid with dread and fear. ‘Nay! I do not believe thee. I could no sooner kill Blain than my own son.' He walked away some distance, as if to escape the lingering notion.

‘Then war it will be,' Taliesin concluded, as if he didn't mind either way.

‘I can stop this.' Rhun paced about. ‘I shall go to Blain and offer the position of High King to him.'

‘And what will that achieve? The war will still be fought.' Taliesin spied the mead and poured himself a glass. ‘Besides, thy crown will not go to him. The Tylwyth Teg have chosen to support thee.'

Rhun bowed his head, still determined to find a solution, for he was resolute that killing Blain was not an option. ‘What dost thou know about Bridei of the Picts?' Rhun returned to his seat.

‘Descended from Cunedda via the royal female line of Alban, as thou wast from the royal male line of Gwynedd, Bridei be a present-life incarnation of thee.'

Rhun smiled in disbelief. ‘Hast mother nature messed up somehow?'

Taliesin stuck out his bottom lip and shook his head. ‘'Tis a common enough occurrence. I have met several of my earthly incarnations … and indeed thy son, Cadwell, be the Chosen incarnation of his grandfather, Vortipor.'

The High King shied from believing this, but
Taliesin nodded to assure him it was quite true. ‘I intend to meet with Bridei,' Rhun informed, regaining his serious mood.

‘I know,' said the Druid.

‘A sound decision then?' Rhun raised both eyebrows to await his adviser's verdict.

Taliesin smiled broadly. ‘It always pays to know thyself, Majesty.'

 

It may have been coming to the end of the cold season in Gwynedd, but the night air in Alban still had the chill of the dead of winter upon it. Rhun was glad he'd dressed warmly.

Selwyn had bought him to a moor lit only by the moonlight and a small campfire in the distance. There was no mist about and visibility was excellent.

‘Bridei awaits thee by the fire,' Selwyn instructed, moving off in the opposite direction.

‘Art thou not coming with me?' Rhun had expected an introduction.

‘Forgive me, Majesty, but I have other plans.' The Merlin merrily bowed out of the proceedings and took off across country.

Rhun looked to the nearest rise in the direction his Merlin was headed to spy the unmistakable silhouette of the Druidess, Kaileah. The silhouette of the Merlin came to join hers and they embraced.

‘Thou art excused, Selwyn,' uttered Rhun, with a grin of approval. ‘I know what I would rather be doing.' As it was not his destiny to have a passionate affair in the moonlight this evening, Rhun gave a heavy sigh of regret
and looked back to the distant fire. ‘I sure hope I like myself,' he muttered warily, trudging off towards the light.

 

The figure by the campfire was seated with his back to Rhun. A long, dark fur robe hung around his body and even with the hood drawn back off his head, Rhun could see precious little of the man he was to meet. He circled around the site at a distance to approach from the front.

Bridei looked up slowly, having been aware of Rhun's looming presence for some time, and upon viewing him the Pictish warlord rose dumbstruck.

For Rhun, it was like something from a dream, confronting Bridei — a vision of a forgotten primitive past. Quite apart from the fact that Bridei's physical features mirrored Rhun's own, the distinctive deep blue symbols intricately depicted upon the warlord's skin, and his long braided hair, were familiar to Rhun on a deeper level. Bridei may have been ten years younger than the High King, but his build was, in fact, larger and more akin to that of Rhun's father, Maelgwn.

‘Welcome, Rhun, High King of allied Briton,' said Bridei to break the silence, although, clearly, he still could not believe his eyes.

‘Bridei, I presume.' Rhun smiled warmly and eased the tension with a chuckle of amusement. ‘No wonder Talorg feared our meeting.' He looked the warlord over, as if proudly admiring himself in the mirror.

Bridei smiled in return, finding the notion funny also. ‘My enemy be causing thee strife, I hear. Please,' Bridei motioned Rhun to be seated by the fire with him,
‘tell me thy woes, and perhaps between us we can work out what Talorg hast planned.'

‘Another view would be most welcome,' Rhun assured, producing a waterbag from beneath his cloak. ‘Grandfather's mead,' he advised. ‘Gwynedd's finest.'

Bridei's smile broadened. ‘Great minds think alike, my grandmother always said.' Bridei pulled a drinking pouch from beneath his fur robe.

‘Cheers!' they both said at once and then laughed at the synchronicity.

 

As dawn's light threatened on the distant horizon, Selwyn and Kaileah returned to Bridei's campfire, to find two very drunk and very chummy warlords. They were still seated, talking and drinking, although they were leaning against each other for stability.

Bridei noted the Merlin and the Druidess first. ‘Why Kaileah,' he laughed, ‘thy feathers art all ruffled.'

Rhun burst into laughter at this and leaned forward, whereupon Bridei lost his support and fell to the ground. The High King found this so amusing that he keeled over and fell about on the ground with his new drinking companion.

‘And thou wast afraid they might not get along?' Kaileah commented sideways to Selwyn as she folded her arms, slightly amused by the outcome of the important political meeting.

Selwyn raised his hands to his head. ‘This be no way to win a war.' He made a move to raise his King off the ground. Kaileah followed to recover her Lord.

‘Have ye managed to reach any conclusions,
Majesty?' Selwyn queried, as he raised Rhun to a seated position.

‘Aye, we reached any conclusions,' Rhun mumbled, not making too much sense in his drunken stupor.

‘We decided,' Bridei sat upright with a bit of help from Kaileah, and leaned over Rhun to speak with Selwyn, ‘that we might allow thee to wed my sister … 'cause the Goddess knows she hast rejected all her other suitors.'

‘Thy sister?' Selwyn wasn't following. Couldn't the man tell that it was the Druidess who had stolen his heart?

‘Come, Bridei.' Kaileah placed his arm over her shoulder to raise him from the ground, and only then did Selwyn notice how informal they were with one another.

‘He means thee!' Selwyn suddenly worked it out, standing to confront Kaileah about it. ‘Thou art a Princess?' he squeaked, not too sure how he should react.

‘Shh!' Bridei urged, one finger raised to his mouth. ‘'Tis a secret,' he giggled.

Kaileah only stared back at Selwyn as if she were too scared to find out how he would react, which served to confirm the claim.

‘Her son shall be the next ruler of Alban,' enlightened Bridei, whereby the Merlin turned pale.

‘I think thou hast said enough, Bridei,' Kaileah scolded him quietly. ‘Allow me to get thee to thy horse.'

Rhun had staggered to a standing position and was now wobbling on his own two feet. ‘Farewell my friend, I shall visit thee again, present —' he hiccupped ‘— ly.'

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