Night Bird's Reign (39 page)

She saw Queen Efa sitting stiffly beside him. She wore a niam-lann, a circlet of gold around her forehead, a cluster of emeralds resting above her brow. She wore long, golden earrings and rings without number. Her dress was green and gold.

The table was full of those she knew—Sanon and Geriant, whom she barely recognized, so grown were they. Achren with her crooked smile. Dafydd Penfro, Rhoram’s counselor. So many others she remembered.

Into the silence, Tallwch suddenly boomed, “Guests come to your Hall, great King. Noble guests of the House of Llyr.”

Rhoram looked up. “Gwydion? He was just—” Rhoram stopped abruptly as Rhiannon and Gwen came forward to stand by Tallwch.

“These are your guests. Rhiannon ur Hefeydd var Indeg, Dewin of Kymru. Gwenhwyfar ur Rhoram var Rhiannon, Princess of Prydyn.”

The hall fell silent as people froze in astonishment. Then Sanon and Geriant erupted from their chairs and rushed pellmell down the length of the hall, throwing themselves into Rhiannon’s open arms.

“You came back,” Sanon whispered. Rhiannon kissed the top of her bright, golden head, and Geriant, grinning like a mad man, said nothing but hugged her tightly.

“I came back. And I brought your sister with me.” Gesturing to Gwen, who was standing behind her, she pulled her daughter forward.

“Gwenhwyfar, this is your sister, Sanon. And your brother, Geriant.”

There were tears in Sanon’s eyes and in Gwen’s too, as Sanon gently hugged her.

“You are welcome here, sister,” Geriant said with a smile.

Rhiannon looked up at the dais and saw Rhoram getting to his feet. Efa frantically clutched his arm, but he loosened her hold gently, almost absently.

Slowly, he made his way down the hall, never talking his glittering eyes from her. He was pale and his face was expressionless. For one horrible moment, Rhiannon was sure that she had miscalculated. Then she saw the welcome in his sapphire eyes.

Like a man who is fearful that he is only dreaming, he reached out his hand to caress her cheek. “Rhiannon. Rhiannon ur Hefeydd. You came back,” he said slowly.

She nodded and started to speak. “For—for a while. I—” but no further words materialized. Her heart was beating so rapidly that she could not think. “I bring you a gift.”

“A gift. A gift greater than you?”

“I bring you your daughter.” She reached out and drew Gwen to her side.

“Gwenhwyfar.” He looked down at her for a long time. “Oh, my child. How beautiful you are,” and he drew her into a tender embrace. He closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them they had the sheen of tears. There were tears in Gwen’s eyes as she clung to her father.

Finally, Rhoram drew back. “Thank you,” he said to Rhiannon, his voice raw. “Thank you for my gift. The most wondrous gift I have ever received.” He smiled at Gwen and reached out his hand to touch her bright hair. Then he turned his sapphire gaze back to Rhiannon.

He said nothing, drinking in the sight of her as a man who has been thirsty for long and long will drink a draught of clear, cool water. Then he smiled, then he grinned, and then he grabbed her and swung her around in wild abandon. Then Dafydd Penfro and Achren were there, demanding their turn to greet her.

After the tumult died down a little Rhoram said, “Come. You two shall sit at my table.” He took her hand and then grabbed Gwen’s hand and led them up to his table. People she knew called greetings to her. She flushed and smiled and returned their greetings as best she could.

As she neared the table Queen Efa stood stiffly. As though this happened every day Rhoram calmly said, “My dear, you remember Rhiannon ur Hefeydd?”

“I do indeed,” Efa said, her voice cold. “You are welcome here in my hall.”

In her hall. Oh, yes. Rhiannon donned a honeyed smile and said sweetly, “How kind of you. I hardly dared think I would find such a warm welcome here.”

“Yes, strange isn’t it?” Efa replied, with a smile as poisonously false as Rhiannon’s own. “Come, we shall squeeze you both in somehow.”

After some shifting Rhiannon and Gwen sat among the company. Efa was on Rhoram’s right, but Rhiannon sat on his left. Gwen sat directly across from her father between Sanon and Geriant. The three young people had their heads together, talking swiftly. Where had Gwen been all this time? What was it like to live in a cave?

Queen Efa ate little and said less. But Dafydd Penfro, obedient to Rhoram’s sharp look, was attentive to the Queen; and eventually even Efa relaxed a little.

Achren leaned forward and asked Gwen if she knew how to hunt. “Mam taught me some, and I’m pretty good with a spear,” Gwen answered.

“Know anything about swords?” Achren asked.

“No.”

“Want to learn?”

“Oh, yes,” Gwen said, her face shining. “I’d love to.”

“Achren,” Efa said coolly, “I hardly think that this is a proper thing to teach an eleven-year-old girl.”

“Why not? She should know how to defend herself, don’t you think?” It was hard to tell just what Achren might have meant by that, but her dislike of the Queen was clear.

Rhoram stepped into the breach. “Sanon doesn’t much care for it herself. But you and Geriant should have a fine old time. Achren taught him, too. And I have a few tricks to teach.”

Achren snorted. “Nothing you didn’t learn from me.”

“Ha! You talk as though I never win when we duel.”

“I let you win, sometimes, to cheer you, “Achren grinned.

“You see, daughter,” Rhoram said to Gwen with a mock grimace, “an old man is not respected in his own house. It’s terribly sad, isn’t it?”

“You’re not old,” Gwen protested. “Or, well, not very, anyway.”

Everyone laughed at that, for Gwen’s qualifying statement was said with a great deal of earnestness. Gwen blushed, but the laughter was friendly, and she was not ashamed, only startled.

“I must talk to you,” Rhiannon whispered urgently to Rhoram under cover of the laughter. Rhoram acted as though he hadn’t heard her. He leaned forward, “How about a song, Sanon? Maybe you and Gwen both know some of the same tunes?”

Sanon leapt up, grabbing Gwen’s hand. “Come on. We’ll think of something.”

“Geriant, keep an eye on them will you?”

“Sure, Da,” Geriant said good-naturedly, and ambled after the girls who had scampered over to the hearth.

Rhoram glanced at Dafydd Penfro. Rising, Dafydd offered his arm to the Queen. “Shall we get a good place for the show?” Efa nodded and reluctantly allowed him to lead her to a chair before the hearth.

“Come,” Rhoram said to Rhiannon. They slipped out of the hall, stopping just outside the doors. They heard the sweet voices of Sanon and Gwen raised in song.

I have been a multitude of shapes

Before I assumed a constant form.

I have been a sword.

I have been a tear in the air.

Rhoram turned to her and took her hands in his. He kissed them gently. “How long will you stay?”

“I can’t. I can’t stay at all. I must go. Tonight.” The words came with difficulty, but she said them. She had promised.

Rhoram stared at her. “Is it—is it something I have done? Have I made you uncomfortable here?”

She laughed, a little wildly. Uncomfortable? Oh, gods, he had no idea.

“What did Gwydion ap Awst say to you?” he demanded.

“He said he needed my help. So,” she went on, taking a deep breath, “I go from here to Caer Dathyl to see him and take up my task. And I’m leaving Gwen here.”

“Ah. And does Gwen know this?” Rhoram asked carefully.

Oh, Rhoram had always been so quick to understand her. How could she had forgotten that? “No.”

“You should have told her.”

“I couldn’t find the words to explain.” Within the Hall the song continued,

I have been the dullest of stars,

I have been a word among letters,

I have been a book in the making.

I have been the light of lanterns.

“Rhiannon,” Rhoram said softly. “Look at me.”

Hesitantly, she raised her eyes to his glittering, jewellike gaze.

“Rhiannon, I must tell you two things. The first is that I still love you. I was a fool to let you go.” Briefly, she closed her eyes at the words she had wanted to hear for so long. It was her daydream turned nightmare, for the words had come too late. She had already come to the crossroads and chosen her path.

He went on, “The second thing is that you mustn’t fear me,
cariad.
I demand nothing from you. So tell me, for I am your friend now and always. Explain why you do this thing.”

“Years ago,” she began, hesitantly, “I refused to do my duty. I threw away the chance to become Ardewin.”

“Because I begged you.”

“Because I wanted to. And then, when things went wrong I ran away. I stole Gwen out of vengeance.”

“You couldn’t bear to part with your daughter. You loved her.”

“I wronged her. I can’t change that. But I can try to make it right, by returning her to her real home. And I can repay my debt to Kymru. I refused my duty before. I won’t do it again. Or there will be nothing left of me.”

“Will you come back?”

“No.” It was, perhaps, the hardest thing she had ever said.

“I see.” He gave a bitter laugh. “I’ve dreamt of this moment for years. But like all dreams, it turns bitter when it comes true. You come back only to leave me again.”

“Rhoram—”

“No, no. You don’t understand. I’m not blaming you. I brought it on myself by letting you go so long ago.”

I have been a sword in the grasp of a hand,

I have been a shield in battle.

I have been a string in a harp.

Disguised for nine years,

In water, in foam.

“Rhoram, how could I stay? You have a wife,” she said sharply.

“So I do, so I do. If you want to call her that. Of course, she doesn’t love me and never did. But she loves being the Queen.”

“Rhoram, Rhoram. I beg you. Please don’t do this to me. I can’t stay.”

“I know.” He said nothing for a long time. He looked up at the sky and the full moon washed over his face. Finally, he turned to her. “Tell me then, what can I do to make it easier for you?”

Oh, truly she was the beloved of Rhoram ap Rhydderch. Who but one that loved her so would let her go her own way at the crossroads? “Take care of Gwen,” she whispered.

“I will.”

“I must say good-bye to her now.”

“Won’t you at least stay the night?”

“I can’t.” She swallowed hard. “If I do I will never leave.”

“I wish—never mind, you know what I wish,” he tried to smile but it died before it reached the corners of his mouth. Gently he framed her face with his hands. “Rhiannon ur Hefeydd, I claim a kiss from you before you go.”

The wasted years fell away as their lips touched. All the passion, all the longing, all the terrible, wonderful love returned in full force. His arms tightened around her as she sank deeply into his kiss. A low moan escaped him, and she pulled herself away, gasping. His hands instantly dropped from her, and he stepped back. “I’m sorry,” he offered hoarsely. “I didn’t think it would be like that.”

“Some things never change, do they?” she said breathlessly.

“No, they don’t. I’ll—I’ll go get Gwen.”

After he went back inside the hall she sat down on the steps. Her legs were shaking and her heart was choking her. How could she leave? But how could she not?

At last Rhoram returned, holding Gwen’s hand. “Oh, Mam,” she said, “did you hear me?”

Swiftly she pulled herself together and stood. “Yes, indeed,” she said, her voice as steady as she could make it. “You have a beautiful voice. You and Sanon sound well together.”

“Oh, she’s wonderful. I’m going to love it here. How long can we stay?”

“I’m—I’m glad you like it here, little one. Because—” She stopped. Oh, what a coward I am, she thought. What a fool.

“Your Mam and I have had a long talk, Gwen. And we’ve come to an agreement we think you will like. You’ve lived with your Mam for a long time. And now, it’s time to live with me,” Rhoram said gently.

Gwen quickly turned to Rhiannon. “You’re leaving me here? Why?”

“I must. I must go to the Dreamer. He has laid a task on me that I must do.”

“You’re deserting me?” Gwen’s voice rose.

“No,” Rhiannon said pleadingly. “I’m leaving you with your father.”

“You planned this from the start,” Gwen accused. “You knew it all along. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Gwen, don’t take it this way, please. If I had a choice—”

“You have a choice! How can you do this? How can you leave me alone?”

“I wish I knew,” Rhiannon whispered.

“I hate you! I hate you!” Gwen screamed.

Rhiannon flinched as Gwen began to sob. “I do. I do hate you. You don’t care anything about me. You just leave me because I’m in the way.”

She reached out to take Gwen in her arms but was pushed away. Rhoram put his arm around Gwen’s shoulders as she sobbed and Rhiannon watched helplessly.

“I’ll take care of her, Rhiannon. Do what you must do,” he said softly.

Oh, gods. How could she leave them both, these two that she loved so much? But she must. She must. She turned and ran toward the stables, Gwen’s sobs echoing in her ears.

Addiendydd, Tywyllu Wythnos—dusk

O
NE MONTH LATER
, Rhiannon arrived in the tiny village of Dinas Emrys, sick at heart and weary beyond endurance.

She reined in her mount by the village well, hauled up the bucket, and watered her horse as the sun slowly sank behind the purple mountains. The people in the village were already at their evening meal, and the tiny square was deserted. She could hear faint laughter as families and friends gathered for the evening. The sound made her feel more lonesome than ever.

Her exit from Caer Tir had taken its toll on her. There were dark circles beneath her swollen eyes, for she slept poorly. She often thought she heard Gwen’s sobs again in the dead of the night. The cries echoed within her and the misery she carried made her heart feel as heavy as stone.