Crimson Fire (64 page)

That news even seemed to relieve poor Sinend. The young Druid was still too pale, too listless, too shamed. But Anieron thought that she would perk up after a while. She was a fetching little thing, and the monstrous plots of her father and the Arch- druid should not be held against her. Would not be, as long as he had any say in it.

As he neared the cave entrance, the brilliant light from the

cave mouth caused him to narrow his shrewd, green eyes. Flashes of light played off the cool, green sea. Waves washed onto the shore, leaving swirls and indentations in the sand, patterns that Anieron knew he did not have the means to understand.

How long? How long until Kymru became theirs again? Idly he wondered if he would be alive to see that day, and thought it unlikely.

The rustle of wings above drifted down to him. An enor- mous eagle landed just outside the mouth of the cave and pinned him with its clear, gray eyes. Ah, of course.

Arderydd, the High Eagle. Sign of the High King.

Gravely, Anieron bowed to the bird. The eagle dipped its head in return and
fl
ashed away, riding the sky, proud and free. Free.

Oh, yes. The High King would come again.

And when he did, the Dewin and the Bards of Kymru would be ready.

Mynydd Tawel, kingdom of Gwynedd

C
AI
,
ONCE
-C
APTAIN
of King Uthyr’s teulu, made his way up the mountain easily. He went rapidly up the rocky slopes be- cause he didn’t care one way or another if he fell. There was nothing here in this world to keep him, except for a promise he had made to his now-dead King.

A promise that he regretted, passionately, now that so many of those whom he loved were dead. His wife and son had died in Tegeingl. He had received word a few weeks ago that his father had died in the
fi
ghting in Eyri. And his King was dead. Uthyr was dead, yet Cai still lived. And the taste of that truth was bitter. Very bitter, indeed.

Cai, along with Ygraine, Susanna, and Bedwyr had made it

to the hidden slopes of Mynydd Tawel in the mountains of Eyri just a week ago. Neuad, Uthyr’s Dewin, had been here already with young Morrigan. And Dinaswyn, the former Dreamer, along with her niece, Arianrod, had also been here.

Another careless handhold, another careless step, and he was atop Mynydd Tawel, the tallest peak in the mountain range of Gwynedd. The air was crisp and thin, barely
fi
lling his labor- ing lungs and cutting through his leather tunic. Wind whistled in his ears with a mournful sound. Below him the jagged tips of the mountain range gleamed black onyx. The mountain slopes were emerald green, broken here and there with the silvery rib- bons of mountain streams.

He wondered if it would be so bad to break his promise to Uthyr. He wondered if it would not be better to dive off the mountain, to break his body against the rocky slopes, to be free of this world and to come to Gwlad Yr Haf, where his wife, his son, his father, and his King waited for him.

A rustle of wings brushed past him, startling him so that he almost did plunge straight down the mountain. He pulled his dagger, whirling to meet—

The most enormous eagle he had ever seen.

The eagle settled onthe rocks andthenbegan to ruf
fl
e through its feathers. And at that moment, Cai knew what it was.

Arderydd, the High Eagle. Sign of the High King.

The bird settled its feathers and
fi
xed Cai with an unblink- ing stare. Then the eagle pulled itself fully upright and shrieked in de
fi
ance, taking to the air with a speed that left Cai gasping. It
fl
ew over the peaks, still shrieking, until it was gone.

Cai understood. The High King would return. And when he did, Cai and the warriors of Gwynedd would be ready.

Dinas Emrys, kingdom of Gwynedd

A
RTHUR WIPED THE
sweat from his brow, anxiously surveying the mountain slope. One, two . . . eleven, twelve . . . twenty- one. Yes, the sheep were all there. He had never seen them run so, and all from a bird, too. He thought it very strange. He himself had not seen the bird clearly. He had been too anxious that he would lose the sheep.

Arthur settled down on the slope, reaching for the pouch that contained his afternoon meal of bread and cheese. Slowly he ate, not really hungry but knowing that he should try to eat, swallowing hard when tears threatened to block his throat.

Only one week ago he had heard that his father was dead. Uncle Myrrdin had given Arthur that news, with pain in his wise, dark eyes. And Arthur’s dreams had died then, too. Dreams that his father would come for him. Dreams that they would at last be together. Dreams now shattered beyond repair. They would never come true, now.

Myrrdin had also told Arthur of the confrontation at Ca- dair Idris. The Doors of the mountain had stayed closed against the Warleader. And Arthur knew what had been in Myrrdin’s mind, then. That one day, the Doors would open for Arthur. If he had the Treasures. If he had the will to be High King.

But Arthur didn’t want to be High King. All he had wanted was to be with his father. But Gwydion had taken him away long ago and had never given him back. One day Gwydion would come to Dinas Emrys, wanting to take Arthur to
fi
nd the Treasures. And on that day, the boy had vowed, he would not go. No matter what. Let Uncle Gwydion
fi
nd another pawn for his games.

A rustle of wings, the whoosh of something
fl
ying past him, a momentary pain in his cheek, yanked Arthur from his thoughts. He leapt up, gazing wildly about him. And there, just a few feet away, perched the most enormous eagle he had ever seen.

He put a hand to his cheek and pulled it away, bloody. The bird gazed at him calmly, as though the wound was only his due. And when he realized what this was, he thought that may- be the wound was what he deserved.

For this was Arderydd, the High Eagle. The sign of the High King.

For a moment, he considered explaining to this creature that King Uthyr was dead. That Gwydion’s plans for him should be thwarted at all costs, so that the Dreamer would feel at least some of the pain the he had given out so freely.

But he knew that the eagle would care for none of this. He stared at the bird, thinking how the eagle’s gray eyes looked so much like the Dreamer’s. Cold, calculating, prideful. And then the eagle gave a cry so
fi
erce that the sheep were set once again to running. But Arthur stood trans
fi
xed by the eagle’s eyes.

And then the boy nodded, once, reluctantly. The eagle darted into the sky. Arthur watched it until it was nothing more than a speck in the distance.

And wondered if he would be ready.

Coed Aderyn, kingdom of Prydyn

G
WYDION STRETCHED A
little, then settled down again at the edge of the pool. The somnolent sound of the waterfall splashing over the rocks soothed him, taking away the rough edges leftover from the argument this morning. It seemed that he and Rhian-

non were always arguing now. It was times like this he cursed the dream that had told him she was the key to going to Corania.

Yet, even as he thought this, he knew he did not mean it. He knew they only argued because of the tension that came off of him in waves. The tension that pulled at him to trust her, touch her, give himself to her. The tension that pushed at him to stand apart, unfettered, alone, trusting no one.

At least he was sleeping better. The old nightmare had
fi
-

nally left him, its purpose accomplished. He no longer dreamt of the death of those whom he loved, for it had all come true. And yet there had been a change. In his dream, the Master Bard had been killed. But Anieron was still alive. Perhaps, he thought tentatively, not even liking to contemplate it, this was something that would happen at a later time.

And Cathbad was revealed as a traitor. Gwydion gritted his teeth, for he now knew who had been behind Amatheon’s murder. Cathbad would pay, in full measure, for that.

He thought of his daughter, for she was with Anieron in the caves of Allt Llwyd. His heart failed him at the thought of Cariadas being captured or killed. He wished he could see her, but it was too dangerous. He must remain hidden until the time came for him to lead the search for the Treasures.

He dipped his hand in the silvery pool. In spite of every- thing, he liked it here, deep in the woods of Coed Aderyn. It was a good hiding place, close enough to Cadair Idris so that they could Wind-Ride whenever they needed to, keeping a close watch on Havgan.

And the caves that fanned out beneath the earth from Rhi- annon’s home! Since they had come back here months ago, they had explored the caves and found that one branch took them as

far as Llyn Mwyngil, the lake to the west of Cadair Idris.

That would come in very handy when the day came to re- turn to Cadair Idris with the Treasures in hand.

He wondered yet again how long until he had the dream the Protectors had promised, the dream to tell him it was time to begin the Quest for the Treasures.

While far above him, unseen, an eagle glided,
fl
ying on the

wings of the wind.

Gwydion closed his eyes, and waited for the dream.

Glossary (Kymri)

Addiendydd
: sixth day of the week

aderyn
: birds

aethnen
: aspen tree; sacred to Ederynion

alarch
: swan; the symbol of the royal house of Ederynion

alban
: light; any one of the four solar festivals

Alban Awyr
: festival honoring Taran; Spring Equinox

Alban Haf
: festival honoring Modron; Summer Solstice

Alban Nerth
: festival honoring Agrona and Camulos; Autumnal Equinox
Alban Nos
: festival honoring Sirona and Grannos; the Winter Solstice
ap
: son of

ar
: high

Archdruid
: leader of the Druids, must be a descendent of Llyr

Arderydd
: high eagle; symbol of the High kings

Ardewin
: leader of the Dewin, must be a descendent of Llyr

arymes
: prophecy

Awenyddion
: dreamer (see Dreamer)

awyr
: air

bach
: boy

bachen
: little boy

Bard
: a telepath; they are musicians, poets, and arbiters of the law in matters of inheritance, marriage, and divorce; Bards can Far-Sense and Wind-Speak; they revere the god Taran, King of the Winds

bedwen
: birch tree; sacred to the Bards

Bedwen Mis
: birch month; roughly corresponds to March

blaid
: wolf; the symbol of the royal house of Prydyn

bran
: raven; the symbol of the Dreamers

Brenin
: high or noble one; the High King; acts as an ampli
fi
er for the Y Dawnus

buarth
: circle

cad
: battle

cadair
: chair (of state)

I

caer
: fortress

calan
:
fi
rst day; any one of the four
fi
re festivals

Calan Gaef
: festival honoring Annwyn and Aertan

Calan Llachar
: festival honoring Cerridwen and Cerrunnos

Calan Morynion
: festival honoring Nantsovelta

Calan Olau
: festival honoring Mabon

cantref
: a large division of land for administrative purposes; two to three commotes make up a cantref; a cantref is ruled by a Lord or Lady

canu
: song
cariad
: beloved
celynnen
: holly

Celynnen Mis
: holly month; roughly corresponds to late May/early June

cenedl
: clan

cerdinen
: rowan tree; sacred to the Dreamers

Cerdinen Mis
: rowan month; roughly corresponds to July

cleddyf
: sword

collen
: hazel tree; sacred to Prydyn

Collen Mis
: hazel month; roughly corresponds to October

commote
: a small division of land for administrative purposes; two or three commotes make up a cantref; a commote is ruled by a Gwarda

coed
: forest, wood

cynyddu
: increase; the time when the moon is waxing

da
: father

dan
:
fi
re

derwen
: oak tree; sacred to the Druids

Derwen Mis
: oak month; roughly corresponds to December

Dewin
: a clairvoyant; they are physicians; they can Life-Read and Wind-

Ride; they revere the goddess Nantsovelta, Lady of the Moon

disglair
: bright; the time when the moon is full
draig
: dragon; the symbol of the Dewin
draenenwen
: hawthorn tree; sacred to Rheged

Draenenwen Mis
: hawthorn month; roughly corresponds to late June/early July

II

Dreamer
: a descendent of Llyr who has precognitive abilities; the Dreamer can Dream-Speak and Time-Walk; the Dreamer also has the other three gifts—telepathy, clairvoyance, and psychokinesis; there is only one Dreamer in a generation; they revere the god Mabon, King of Fire

Dream-Speaking
: precognitive dreams; one of the Dreamer’s gifts

Druid
: a psychokinetic; they are astronomers, scientists, and lead all fes- tivals; they can Shape-Move, Fire-Weave, and, in partnership with the High King, Storm-Bring; they revere the goddess Modron, the Great Mother of All