Hearts in Cups (11 page)

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Authors: Candace Gylgayton

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BOOK: Hearts in Cups
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The garden was deep in
shadow behind its high walls. The scent of hyacinth and narcissus, intensified
by the darkness and closeness of the walls, was overwhelmingly sweet to the
young man who paced its brick walkway by the lambent light of the stars. He
trod with a quiet but nervous gait, stopping frequently as if listening. His
discarded hat lay on the stone bench where he had tossed it. He had been
walking in the secluded garden for almost an hour now and the wait was
beginning to chafe his nerves. Standing at the far end of the walkway, close to
the wall, he finally heard the light step he had so anxiously been waiting to
hear. As he turned towards the sound, he glimpsed tiny flashes of light
refracted from jewels and heard the rustle of heavy fabric.

"Daffyd?" The
voice was light and soft and sent a vibration running through him.

"Here, my
lady," he answered walking quickly towards her.

With a rush of
movement, she was suddenly in his arms kissing him impetuously. "I thought
the banquet would last forever. Oh Dai, its been such a long time without
you!" She kissed him again and held him tightly to her.

"Angharad,
Angharad." The name was muttered as he buried his face in the wealth of
her hair. His hands stroked her, assuring him of her substantiality and making
him light-headed. Many minutes passed before he reluctantly loosed his hold and
held her away from him. By the pale light, his eyes traced the beautiful lineaments
of her face. The passion with which she regarded him in return set his blood
coursing though his veins. "Come, let us sit," he managed to say, as
he led her to the stone bench that held his hat. She followed willingly and sat
beside him.

"No one saw you
leave or suspects anything?" he asked, keeping her hand in his.

"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.

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