Chronicle of Ages (47 page)

‘I look forward to seeing me again,' Bridei waved, as
Kaileah dragged him over to his mount.

‘Art thou still breathing, merlin.' Rhun shuffled over to lean on Selwyn for support. ‘Thee sure can pick 'em.' He hiccupped again.

The shock dissipated and Selwyn smiled, his gaze still fixed on his lover. ‘Excuse I, Majesty.' He left Rhun to sway on his own two feet, and approached Kaileah to speak with her quietly. Their intimate mutterings ended in a kiss.

‘Aw!' Rhun sighed loudly. ‘I do love a happy ending.'

‘Me too,' Bridei yelled back, threatening to fall from his mount at any moment.

Due to their charges' loutish behaviour, the lovers were forced to part and Kaileah joined her brother on horseback.

‘Be careful,' Selwyn urged her, as he watched his Pictish Princess ride away.

The dawn light betrayed the large beaming smile on the Merlin's face as he returned to Rhun. ‘The Goddess told me that my true love would be extraordinary and I did not believe her.' He shook his head in confusion. ‘Well, shame on me!' He let loose a loud ‘Yahoo!', high on life. And Rhun, in his inebriated state, was compelled to join in.

 

When the High King awoke late the next afternoon, it seemed that his entire being was wreaking vengeance for his abuse — the tip of his crown all the way down to his toes pulsated with agonising bursts. It felt as though a boulder had been lodged in his brain, for he could not raise his weighty head off the bed. ‘So much for
immortals not needing rest,' Rhun mumbled to himself, pushing down to raise himself. ‘I can be cut in two and recover in the blink of an eye,' he lifted himself a fraction and collapsed back onto the bed, flat on his face. ‘So why dost it take me a week to recover from a night of mead?'

‘Majesty?'

Rhun was upright and turned about in a second, the sudden drastic movement nearly making him ill.

‘No need for alarm, 'tis only I, Sir Gawain.'

Once the High King rubbed the sleep from his eyes, they came to focus on his friend. ‘Gawain.' Rhun breathed a sigh of relief.

He and Gawain had often been mistaken for brothers when they were younger, although Gawain had always been a little taller and lankier. His hair was dark and straight, just like Rhun's, but where Rhun's eyes were near black, Gawain's eyes were steely blue, as his mother's had been. A little under a year older than Rhun, Gawain had yet to marry and was notorious with the ladies.

‘I would not have disturbed thee, but thy signature on the assignment of troops to Riderich cannot wait any longer,' Gawain explained, noticing how perturbed and pale Rhun appeared. ‘Art thou feeling poorly?'

‘Self-inflicted,' Rhun held up a hand to confess, struggling slowly off the bed still fully clothed.

Gawain found this amusing, as it was rare his King ever drank so much as to reach this sorry state. ‘Making the most of thy queen's absence, Highness?'

Rhun attempted a nod, but refrained due to pain,
and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I am a bad influence on myself,' he admitted. He praised the Goddess that Bridgit had stayed in Dyfed, well away from all the strife of the north. ‘Send word to my queen in Dyfed and tell her to stay put until otherwise notified.'

Gawain laughed at this, thinking Rhun was making a joke about wanting to get drunk every night. ‘I think thee might make thyself very ill. Why not take a lover instead?' Gawain suggested an alternative to drink. ‘Thee can have one of mine.'

It took Rhun a second to figure out the misunderstanding and he attempted a smile as he caught up with the conversation. ‘Believe me, Gawain. With my queen, the last thing I need be a lover.'

‘As I have said many times, thou art a fortunate man indeed,' Gawain granted.

‘I am.' The King managed a smile as he took a moment to dwell on his wife, and he realised how much he missed her. ‘I am serious about sending a messenger to Bridgit. Will thee see to it?'

‘Of course,' Gawain became straight-faced. ‘Be there some concern for Gwynedd's welfare?'

‘Perhaps,' was all Rhun would say. ‘Who did we decide would deliver the troops to Riderich?'

‘Gareth, as he resides at Caernarvon,' Gawain replied.

Rhun considered him the best choice, although it seemed a great shame that Gareth's father, Sir Tiernan, was now too old for the assignment. Tiernan was an outstanding diplomat, a feared warrior and a patriot of Gwynedd without question. Gareth had all the same traits and talents as his well-famed father, but he'd never
before had to handle a situation as precarious as the one Rhun was about to send him into. ‘All our Master warriors art to stay put … send some of our more adept and experienced soldiers.'

Gawain was shocked that the High King would go back on his word to the council. ‘But thee promised!'

‘No one shall ever know … and under no circumstances art these troops to go into battle for
anyone
, until I give the word,' Rhun advised sternly, as he would not have his orders questioned by anyone, not even a blood brother.

Gawain frowned, having no wish to question Rhun, as he'd never had cause to before. ‘If there be trouble afoot, I pray thee allow me to assist.'

‘I will,' Rhun assured him, assuming a more civil tone. ‘As soon as I establish all the facts.' He held both hands to his eyes and pressed hard, hoping to relieve some of the tension there. ‘Sorry if I am a bit short this morning —'

‘Ah … evening, Majesty,' Gawain corrected.

Rhun's eyes shot open as he realised he'd lost a whole day. ‘Oh Goddess.' He rose in a fluster. ‘Thou shalt have to excuse me. I have matters of my own to attend to.'

‘But when Gareth reports to Riderich, he should tell him what?' Gawain still didn't understand their objective.

‘Nothing!' Rhun emphasised. ‘Let Riderich think that all be as I vowed.'

A very worried look came over Gawain's face. ‘Oh Majesty, I do wish thee would let me in on the logic of
such a move.'

Rhun crossed his arms and served his knight with an ambiguous look. ‘I am afraid thee shall just have to trust me.'

Gawain thought about it a moment and smiled, not meaning to offend his King. ‘I am just eager to be privy to the larger picture, Highness. I do trust thee.'

‘I know and greatly appreciate thy faith.' Rhun led his knight to the door and, after seeing him out, bolted it behind him. With a quick whiff of himself, he decided a bath was in order and thus, clothes and all, he dived into the large stone bath in his quarters. As he'd not taken the time to add the large cauldron of boiling water that bubbled over the open fire at the bath's head, the cold water therein was a rude but well-needed awakening for the High King.

‘Holy mother!' he cried as he surfaced, trying to shake himself free of the cold, and stripping off the layers, he submerged himself again.

 

Around suppertime that evening, the folk down in Powys were rather surprised when Rhun rode into the courtyard at Arwystli, alone. None more so than Selwyn, who had left the High King in Gwynedd only that morning — fortunately, no one else at the court in Powys knew this.

Only the Merlin and his novice, Prince Cai, came out to greet the High King. The others of the household were all seated at dinner. ‘What an unexpected surprise, Highness.' Selwyn ventured to stress the annoyance in his tone, for he knew Rhun had defied the High Merlin's wishes in order to be here this evening.

‘Long time no see, merlin.' Rhun vexed him as he dismounted. ‘My but thou art looking well. Springtime obviously agrees with thee.' The High King turned his attention to Cai and he embraced him. ‘Little brother …' he ruffled the younger man's hair, who was now twenty-two years of age.

Appearance-wise, Cai was the odd brother out in his family. Bryce and Blain had their father's dark locks, Owen had his mother's auburn waves, but Cai was as fair as they come, with hair as fine and straight as Rhun's. Family resemblance still held some sway however, in that Cai, like Bryce, had inherited Brockwell's dimple on the chin, and all the lads had their father's piercing blue eyes. None of the Brockwell brothers were very tall, but Cai was the only one who did not display his father's warrior form. The young apprentice druid and Rhun had always been firm friends. Unlike Cai's brothers, Rhun was also a scholar and a philosopher.

‘Majesty, I am so pleased thou art here.' Cai's face beamed with the sincerity he felt. ‘Will thee be staying long?'

‘Not even the duration of the night,' Rhun was sorry to advise.

Cai was clearly disappointed, but he tried not to appear notably so. ‘Of course. Thy new appointment must be keeping thee well occupied.'

‘Thou hast no idea,' Rhun confirmed, looking back to Selwyn, who still appeared annoyed with him. ‘I have come to see Blain.'

‘The king be at dinner, Highness and hast suggested
thee join him.' The Merlin motioned to the entrance of the house.

‘I am not here on a social visit.' Rhun's tone became more official. ‘I shall await Blain in the library. He can join me there at his leisure.'

Selwyn nodded in response to the command, although the expression on his face made it perfectly clear that this visit had him worried.

‘Fear not, merlin,' Rhun uttered aside to him. ‘I have thought this mess through and I am pretty sure I have no idea what I am doing.'

‘When the right course of action be unclear, best not to act at all.' The Merlin cautioned him against stirring up trouble as they had enough to deal with at present.

‘I have spoken with Taliesin.' Rhun lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘I am aware of the two sorry options that fate intends to deal me in this affair. Thus, I intend to take a page from mother's book and see if I cannot create a better alternative to war or murder.'

‘By breaking sacred vows?' Selwyn finally voiced his reason for being so perturbed with his King.

‘If needs be,' Rhun emphasised, pointedly. ‘The only difference between fate and destiny be a conscious will. And my will, merlin, be second to none.' The expression on Selwyn's face implied Rhun had made his point, and they headed into the main house amicably.

‘Might I keep thee company until my king joins thee, Majesty?' Cai ventured to offer, wary of the heavy underlying mood of the High King and his mentor.

Rhun threw an arm over his friend's shoulder and his
good mood returned. ‘
That
would make my year, Cai.'

 

Inspired by the death of Conan, Bryce accompanied Urien to his meeting with Blain in the disguise of a rotting man.

Bryce hadn't realised how uncomfortable it would be having his head and hands entirely wrapped in bandages. The women had made the dressings smell of rotting food to ensure they looked and smelt as if soiled from festering sores. Bryce was glad to finally arrive at Arwystli to get on with this charade and have it over with.

Blain met Urien on the inner bailey stairs. ‘Bad timing,' he advised, discreetly. ‘His Majesty hast popped in for a surprise visit and he might get suspicious if he discovers thou art here in Powys.' Amid Urien's guards, Blain caught sight of his ally's decrepit travelling companion. ‘What in the Otherworld hast thou brought into my house, Urien? I think this good Samaritan rubbish hast gone far enough.'

‘Fear not. Sir Eldred's ailments are not contagious. Although the poor fellow be slowly rotting on the outside, his mind hast not suffered any.'

Blain fixed Urien with a very perturbed expression. ‘This makes me very nervous.'

‘He will not cause thee any grief, I swear,' Urien made light of Blain's concerns. ‘Just stick him in my room with a pitcher of mead and thee will not even be aware of his presence.'

‘Dost he serve some purpose?' Blain looked down his nose at the hunched-over cripple whom he approached,
of the mind to get a look at his face.

‘Oh, aye. He wast once a trusted advisor of my grandfather's.' If Urien was concerned about their deception in any way, it certainly didn't show — not even when Blain's attention was turned from him.

For the first time Bryce could appreciate just how good Urien was at playing both sides of the fence. This talent probably stemmed from being trained since birth to devote himself earnestly to the two completely contradictory religions in his kingdom — dividing his loyalties came easy to this young King. Still, Urien had never had family before and Bryce was hoping this was enough to keep him loyal to the High King's cause.

‘Thou hast never mentioned this Sir Eldred before?' Blain raised the hood of the curious stranger's robe to expose the filthy bandages and, getting a whiff of their odour in the process, he desisted from further investigation. ‘Aw.' He screwed up his nose in disgust. ‘Thee ought it give it a bath.'

‘We would,' Urien concurred with a grin, ‘but we art afraid of losing half of him in the process.' He fell in beside Blain to accompany him into the house.

Blain grinned, mildly amused by Urien's jest. ‘Well, I need thee both out of sight until his Royal Highness departs.'

Rhun be here!
The realisation echoed through Bryce's mind, setting his heartbeat racing as he hobbled up the few stairs after Urien and his brother.
I must get word to him of what I know.

 

‘Why did thee not send word of thy visit, Highness?'
Blain entered the library to find Rhun by the fire having a close conversation with his youngest brother. ‘Had I been more prepared, I would have met thee myself.' Blain bowed to Rhun as was now his due.

‘It wast rude of me.' Rhun stood to shake hands with Blain, to find that his friend's right hand was bandaged from the tips of his fingers all the way up his wrist. This prevented Rhun from making skin contact and reading his thoughts, but whether Blain had become conscious of that fact, Rhun couldn't say for sure.