The Two Tanists (A Bard Without a Star, Book 2) (7 page)

“Sure, that’d explain it.”

“I understand you have a fine
animal of your own,” Gwydion said. “May I see the famed cow of Dyfed?”

Eynon turned suddenly
bashful. “She’s not that much, just a good cow with good keeping.”

He led them to a stall across
from the stallions, opening it with the pride of a father. Gwydion, who was
not that good a judge, watched Cofach. The old chieftain’s nervousness melted
away, as he said, “She is a beauty.” He ran his hands along her flanks, and
began talking about diet, exercise, and grooming. Gwydion smiled at the
enthusiasm in both of them, and felt a pang of sorrow for what he intended to
do to Eynon and the others like him who had no fault in the cantrefs’ feud.

Adaf looked bored with the
whole routine, and kept craning his neck back towards he stallions. Gwydion
caught his eye, and said, “I have one more request of you. I like to harp to
the horses at night. It helps them sleep better, and keeps them from becoming
irritable.”

Adaf perked up. “I would
like that very much, Per Grojian.”

They crossed to the first
stallion’s stall, and Gwydion pulled out his harp before settling down on a hay
bale. “Do you think all them can hear from here? I usually have them gathered
around me, but that seems unlikely, yes?”

“They should be fine,” Adaf
said absently, staring at the jewels on the bridle. “Are those rubies?”

“Ah, yes,” Gwydion said as he
began playing. “The green are emeralds, the orange are topaz.” He started a
lullaby, watching Adaf closely, but he had stopped paying attention to both the
harper and the song. Gwydion felt for the curse, and found it all about him.
He began feeding magic into the music, but instead of something to sap the
will, he made the magic as sleepy and soothing as his song. The night began to
quiet around him, and Adaf began yawning widely. The curse tried to rouse
itself once, but could not muster any energy.

Adaf said, “That is a nice
song.” He yawned again.

“Please, sit,” Gwydion said.
“I will not be much longer, yes?”

“Yes, sitting would be
good.” Adaf sat in the corner where he could watch the whole stall including
the door. Gwydion smiled at the warrior instincts, but soon Adaf’s head began
to droop. When he was snoring, Gwydion stood up and crossed the barn to the
heifer’s stall. Both Cofach and Eynon had curled up in the hay, sleeping
soundly. Gwydion looked at the heifer, who stared placidly back. He began
playing again, using the music to keep the curse calm while he worked on his
illusions. After he was satisfied, he woke Cofach, and said, “It’s time to
go.”

The chieftain yawned and
stretched. “I can’t believe I fell asleep!”

“I can,” Gwydion said. They
crossed the barn to the stallion’s stall. Gwydion touched Adaf’s shoulder, and
the chief warrior woke with a start. “Can you lead us to our chamber?”

Adaf jumped up. “Of course,
Per Grojian! Many pardons for dozing off there. I must have been more tired
than I knew.”

“Think nothing of it,”
Gwydion said. They followed Adaf, who scowled at the number of sleeping kerns
he saw. Gwydion pretended not to notice, and they traversed the quiet halls of
the caer without incident.

Adaf left them with a curt,
“Goodnight,” as Gwydion and Cofach entered.

“Many thanks,” Gwydion said,
but Adaf was already walking down the hall, looking furious.

Gwydion checked on the
company, who were all asleep, including Bran, who had obviously tried to stand
watch. Gwydion sent Cofach to bed, and then woke Bran, who startled much the
same way Adaf had. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

Gwydion said, “Nothing. All
is well. I just wanted to see if you wanted me to take a watch.”

“If you are up to it,” Bran
said. He looked around. “Is there something going on I should be made aware
of?”

“All is well,” Gwydion
assured him. “Get some rest. Tomorrow is likely to be a busy day.”

In the morning, Gwydion and
his company broke their fast with Gwillim and Kyrnin, and Gwydion tried once
more to trade for the heifer. “I can offer all six stallions and all six
falcons,” he said.

“I meant it last night; she’s
not for sale or trade,” Kyrnin said.

Bran and Gil looked at
Gwydion expectantly, and Gwillim looked furious. Gwydion just shrugged. “I
had to try, my lord. Perhaps you know who has the second best cow in this
land?”

“I don’t,” Kyrnin said. “You
might look in Duvnecht.”

“That is the land to the
north and east, yes?” Gwydion asked. “Many thanks. Perhaps I will try there.”

Gwillim stayed in the caer,
still mad at his son, while Kyrnin led the group out to the barn. Gwydion
pulled Cofach aside and spoke softly to him while the horses were saddled and
the great stallions brought out. Sunlight reflected all around the courtyard
from the jewels, and Gwydion said, “Still not interested, my lord? They could
all be yours...”

Kyrnin, who had been looking
at all the finery with a certain amount of lust, turned and said, “I’m afraid
not.”

“Very well,” Gwydion said,
getting into the saddle. Adaf returned the jeweled weapons somewhat
reluctantly, and the rest of the company mounted up as well. Cofach went down
the line of stallions, paying special attention to the last one. He signaled
to Gwydion that everything looked good. Gwydion acknowledged him, then turned
to Kyrnin once more. “Perhaps I will return next year.”

“And I will still say no.”

“You are a wonderful trader!”
Gwydion said. “I look forward to seeing you again.” He led the company out
the gate, oblivious to their disappointed looks.

Gil kept trying to talk to
Gwydion as they rode away from the caer, and Gwydion kept ignoring him. Gil
became more insistent, and finally Gwydion looked him in the eye and said,
“Shut up already! I’m concentrating on a few things right now.”

“Like how to get that stupid
cow you came to steal?” Gil said.

“No, like how to get her
home,” Gwydion said.

“Don’t you think the getting
is the first part?”

Looking around at the empty
road, Gwydion said, “That part’s been done.”

Even Bran perked up. “You
have the heifer?” Dirgan asked incredulously. “Where did you hide her?”

“In plain sight, of course.”
Gwydion turned around and yelled back at Cofach, “How is she doing?”

“Seems none the worse for
looking like a stallion,” the chieftain said.

“She’s one of the stallions?”
Gil said. “But when did you—”

“Last night, after everyone
fell asleep, including you,” Gwydion said. “Now shut up, there are other
things going on that you can’t see.”

“What do you mean?” Bran
asked sharply.

“I mean,” Gwydion said
slowly, “that there is a curse on Dyfed. I thought it would assist my magic,
but it doesn’t, it makes it harder. While we are in close proximity, it is
easy enough to keep an illusion going, but the distance and the curse make it
very hard to maintain.”

“How long do we have?” Bran
asked.

“Um, Tanist?” Cofach called.
They turned around to see him leading five mules and a sleek brown heifer.

“About that long,” Gwydion
said.

Bran began to curse, slowly
and steadily.

Gil said, “What do we do
now?”

“We keep going, as fast as
possible,” Gwydion said. He shifted back into his natural form, and began
sorting through the voices on the winds. “The alarm hasn’t been raised yet,
but it will be, and I guarantee that this time, the men of Dyfed will not let
Kyrnin chase us alone.”

They left the five pack mules
behind, along with all their unnecessary gear. They had only gone another few
miles before Gwydion heard shouts on the wind. Kyrnin’s voice was clear,
ordering quick search parties to try and catch the thieves, and to spare no
life, despite the also clear protests of his father. But the men of Dyfed
remembered the shame of the first Gwydion, and the blood lust was evident. He
told Bran, who simply loosened his sword in response.

They made good time at first,
but Cofach began demanding more and more rest stops. “It’s not me,” he said
when Gwydion demanded an explanation. “This pampered cow cannot keep the pace
you want.”

Gwydion cursed the animal,
and scanned the road for signs of pursuit. “Do you still think it wise to keep
to the high road?” he asked Bran.

“It gives us several
advantages,” Bran said. “Speed being the primary one. Cutting through back
country is very slow, especially with animals.”

“What else?” Gwydion said.
“We’ve got warriors coming up quick.”

Bran said, “Here, the
wilderness favors Dyfed. They have allies in it, they’ll have men who know it
well and can use the terrain to their advantage.”

“But those advantages will
switch to our favor once we cross the border,” Gwydion said.

“If we get there,” Bran
said. He pointed to a dust cloud on the road behind them.

“The first scouts,” Gwydion
said. “Everyone get ready!”

“Can you tell anything about
them?” Bran asked.

“There are ten,” Gwydion
said. “They’ve been riding hard from Arberth, and their horses are nearing
exhaustion. Their orders were to get the word to the border lairds and get
them armed. I think they’re going to be surprised to see us here.”

“Good,” Bran said. “But we
can’t let them pass.”

“Agreed,” Gwydion said. He
looked around. “Cofach! Take that blasted beast and keep going! We’ll catch
up to you when we finish this!”

“Aye, Tanist!”

“Dirgan, Llygad, get your
bows ready. Shoot when your arrows will find marks, not before. You’re only
likely to get off two flights at most. Gil, you and Bran are to use
claymores.”

“And what about you?” Gil
asked. “Are you just going to stay back and direct us?”

“Nope,” he said, drawing his
sword. “Throw me your regular sword.” Gil looked doubtful, but Gwydion caught
it in his empty hand. “Now, let’s see how Dyfedians do in battle.”

They spread out across the
road and waited. The dust cloud came closer, resolving itself into a band of
armed men riding hard towards them. As soon as they realized that the road was
blocked, they pulled up, but Dirgan and Llygad got off an arrow each, and two
of the men went down. The Dyfedians didn’t pause long, making the Gwynedd
archers drop their bows and pull their swords.

Gwydion recognized Gwillim’s
chief warrior Adaf at the same time he spotted the Tanist. Adaf spat and said,
“Kyrnin said it was you.”

“Who else?” Gwydion asked,
pressing forward to the attack.

Adaf held his own through the
first flurry of blows, but Gwydion found his opening and plunged his sword into
Adaf’s thigh. “Damn you to hell,” the chief warrior said as he fell to the
ground.

Gwydion made two more quick
strokes to make sure he was finished, then turned to the rest of the battle.
Gil and Bran looked like they had each dispatched an opponent, but Dirgan and
Llygad were hard pressed. Gwydion saw the last Dyfedian trying to sneak past
the melee, and he charged him with a bellow. The man threw up his sword and
caught one of Gwydion’s, but fell to the other in surprise. Gwydion then
assisted Dirgan and Llygad, while Bran and Gil finished off their opponents.

Gil was beaming as he wiped
his claymore, but Bran still scowled. “If we have to do that again, we’ll
never make it to the border.”

“I’m not sure we can avoid
it,” Gwydion said. “I’ll call my uncle, but it will take him some time to
rouse Gwynedd.”

“Not as much as you might think,”
Bran said. They rode in a quick trot to catch up to Cofach. “Math was
concerned about the way things might turn out. He has been warning all the
caers to watch for trouble from the south.”

“It figures,” Gwydion said.
“I’ve been so focused on Dyfed, I didn’t even notice.”

“But does he know we’re in
trouble?”

“Oh, yes,” Gwydion said. “I
spoke to the winds already, but have heard nothing in return.”

“He is probably busy,” Bran
said. They came upon Cofach and the heifer moving slowly along. “Is their
some magic you can work that would make her faster?”

“Good question,” Gwydion
said. He dismounted and went over to look into the cow’s soulful eyes. He
then looked past the eyes and concentrated on what she was, and what she could
be. He released the magic slowly, and the heifer’s legs lengthened, her flanks
thinned, and her neck and nose grew.

“By the gods,” whispered
Cofach, now holding the bridle of a brown mare.

Gwydion felt a rush of
exhaustion, and would have fallen over but for Bran suddenly supporting him.
“It should make her faster,” he said.

“Yes,” Bran said. “Yes it
should.” He helped the Gwydion onto his horse and said, “By your leave,
Tanist.”