Darach (6 page)

"
A wnewch
chi
ein
cario
fy
mrodyr
?
"
T
he horse, a magnificent gelding with a
sable
coat,
bl
a
ck
mane
,
and eyes of dark brown lowered its head and nuzzled his hand.

"You talk to horses? You asked if they would carry us?"

Darach sounded surprised, and Ceithin was in no state of mind to explain or comment on Darach's command of the old language. He allowed a little of his Fire to travel to his fingers, the crimson disappearing into the horse's soft coat as he touched the mare standing next to the gelding, and then untied both from the rail.

"Come here."

To give him his due, Darach at least tried to climb up, until finally with a little help he dismissed with a sneer, he was seated in the saddle. He looked as awkward as Trystyn had when he was a babe, hanging off to one side, and the thought stayed with Ceithin even as he deftly climbed his own mount. With a gentle nudge of his heels, they left the inn and moved on into the pathways in the woods beyond. The mare, clearly sensing Darach's hesitation, skittered to one side, then finally pulled in next to the gelding and broke into the same canter Ceithin had encouraged. People underestimated horses and their nature, and Ceithin was glad Darach was somehow going with the flow and relaxing.

There was little chance for speaking. That in itself was an exceptionally good thing. Of course, it didn't stop Darach's snapping at him and demanding to know where they were going. Ceithin wasn't stupid; fear and distrust spiraled from Darach, and Ceithin could sense the other man was feeling pain in his slight frame from the riding. This connection between them, a sense of recognition he didn't want to poke at too deeply, left Ceithin feeling distinctly uneasy. Ceithin was used to seeing others and what they held inside them, but to see pain and discomfort from being on the horse was a new one. Emotions, yes. Pain and discomfort, not so much. He filed it away with everything else that had happened during this strange day as something he would think about after they were out of danger.

He didn't have any sensation of them being followed. The Council had underestimated one of the Cariad severely in leaving Ceithin guarded by nothing more than simple wards. Believing him to be dying and therefore no danger to anyone had been a gross misjudgment on their part. This didn't mean they were safe yet, though. He needed to get them home. To his home. He was still verging on exhaustion from the torture, and a few hours remained until he would be fully healed. He ached all over and all he wanted was the peace of the Valley and his family.

Head bobbing in time with the ground-eating, smooth-as-glass Travel Walk Ceithin asked of them after the first half hour, the gelding and the mare made good time. And Darach, although bruised and tired, learned a bit about sitting a saddle. They didn't stop until dark chased them down under the canopy of trees and Ceithin called it as time to take a break.

"We need to take a breather, rest the horses, get some water. We are not far from the edge of the forest now."

"I'm not going with you past the border, whatever you think, Cariad," Darach snapped as they clambered off the horses in the dark. Darach winced in discomfort as he stretched to his full height, and Ceithin had to hide his smile, turning his back on him. It was quiet, the only light came from the moon, filtered and dreamy in the forest glade, and his artist's hands longed to sketch the space. He patted the gelding, murmured a few words, and received a nuzzle in return.

"That's up to you, youngling, but this forest has old magik. I am probably your only hope of making it through alive."

He sensed Darach's anger and confusion and breathed deeply for focus even as his Fire called to him to warn him Darach was coiling energy inside him. The shot from Darach was deflected easily, sparking into the trees and dissipating quickly, and he turned and raised a shield of scarlet even before Darach had pulled enough energy together for another shot. In seconds, Darach was held tightly, his shoulders to a tree, his head forced back, and Ceithin's sparking fingers gripping around his neck.

"Don't mess with me, youngling." Ceithin deliberately injected menace into his voice. "I could kill you in a second." He tightened his grasp, Darach's hands pulling uselessly at the grip, his eyes wide in horror. "You're lucky you're still alive."

He released his hold and Darach fell to his knees, gasping. They were not far from the Valley now, and then his father could deal with the younger man. It was a comforting thought. He wouldn't have to think more on the infuriating man who was currently his responsibility. Ceithin tried to ignore the terror he sensed in his companion, terror hidden behind false confidence. He didn't need to feel compassion for the idiot. He needed to concentrate on getting them to safety.

As they climbed back onto their mounts, Ceithin ignored the look of wounded hate being sent his way and, setting a good pace, they headed onwards.

Chapter 3

"Ephraim, Madoc, Sulien."

Guardian's voice was deceptively soft as he surveyed all three men, and Sulien couldn't get a proper look at the man's eyes to gauge what might be behind those words. Damn child had taken to wearing a hooded cloak that clung to his lean frame and hid his face in half shadows. Sulien waited impatiently. He hated that Guardian held any dominion over them, hated his oh-so-bright Fire, his aura shimmering golden and intense, so new and fresh and alive. Jealousy and desire for what Guardian had was like acid inside him. The call for the Council to attend Guardian had been clear, succinct; in his bones, Sulien knew Guardian was somehow aware of the Cariad in their prison. He wasn't wrong. As long as none of them admitted to anything, everything would be fine.

"The Cariad has gone," Guardian offered and then pushed himself up, standing away from his chair. "I understand he was held in the prison here."

"He was trying to—" Ephraim said, but he stopped as soon as Guardian inclined his head in question. Sulien sighed inwardly. Ephraim was always the one who lost control first.

"Why was there a member of the Cariad in our cells?"

No one answered him, least of all Sulien
,
who
saw the spark of orange
that
colored
the area about them. Guardian was angry, frustrated,
and the
edge of brilliant white made Sulien want to be anywhere other than here. They may be the Council
, the
g
overnment that acted in Guardian
'
s name,
but at the end of the day
it
was Guardian who pulled the strings.
He was
a new guardian, not yet fully grown into his power, but
Annwn
, he was already so strong.

Sulien cast a quick look to his left. Ephraim stood hunched in on himself, affected the worst by their dying Fire. Madoc was similarly cowed.

"
We needed his Fire,
"
Sulien finally
said
. He was dying anyway. Why not
be honest and then
die quickly at the hand of Guardian rather than slowly as their Fire decayed more
?
"
H
e came here of his own free will
. H
e is
a
Cariad
;
he is nothing.
"
He spat the word Cariad as the venom inside him colored his words
. T
hey were nothing more than
vermin
,
with their transient ways and their inability to live in civilized society
.

Guardian said nothing and indicated nothing in the way he stood silently. It was intimidating and overwhelming, and it was the straw that finally broke the camel's back. He shouldn't rise to it, but this was all too much, and he was so damn tired.

"If you gave us some of your Fire then we wouldn't need a Cariad." Sulien spat the words, part of him wanting to pull them back as soon as they were said but the other part so pleased to finally have the words out of him and into the open. It was only what all three thought, and nothing they hadn't discussed when alone.

"Give you my Fire…" Guardian's voice was low, modulated, his syllables carefully spoken. "You believe you deserve to live on through my Fire when your time in this world is drawing to an end? A new Council is long overdue."

Sulien's stomach twisted at the words, and anger glinted in his Fire. "We made you." He sneered. He covered his face as gold and white sparked from Guardian's hands, pricking and sparking at his skin and blinding his eyes momentarily.

"You made nothing." The words were final, abrupt, dripping with derision. "I owe you nothing." Guardian lifted his hands to the hood of his dark cloak and pushed it back. Sulien swallowed in sudden fear.

"Guardian—"

"I may be Guardian of the Council Fire but it is not by choice that I became so. I will not give you my Fire before the last breath leaves my body."

Temper built in Sulien, pushing past any fear he may have had of the boy who stood in front of him. Guardian had been nothing more than a youngling when they took him from his first Fire. Young, inexperienced, flooded with amber Fire so perfect, so absolute, his immolation had been manipulated as immediate, the scars the only thing that remained from receiving his Fire on his twenty-first birthday.

It seemed Sulien was not the only one whose temper had peaked. Madoc was edgy, his pathetic mud Fire curling about him as his anger grew, and in a move so fast Sulien had no chance to stop him, Madoc launched himself at Guardian. Madoc was dead before he hit the floor; Guardian's retribution was swift. Pain tore through Sulien at the death of the other Councilor, but he didn't move. Amber Fire coiled around Madoc and slowly returned to Guardian, whose face was impassive.

"I owe you nothing. Leave."

Sulien hesitated, exchanging looks with Ephraim as to whether they should move their fellow Council member's body. Ephraim shook his head, edging towards the door without turning his back on Guardian, who was a vision of terror, his face twisted in anger and his pure amber Fire a roiling mass of light around him.

Sulien and Ephraim bowed slightly and left the room, exchanging no words, not even after the door closed behind them.

Each had the grieving to experience, and whilst Ephraim would do it with wine, Sulien wanted his books, his library. It was the one place he could record his own demise now. With the loss of the Cariad red, he was dying, sooner rather than later.

* * * *

Guardian didn't move until a good time had passed after they left. Then, sighing, he knelt beside the body of Madoc, casually casting a net of protection around him. When he was sure everything was safe he let out a big sigh of relief.

"You can move now, old man. I think it worked," he murmured.

Touching Madoc gently, he allowed some of his amber Fire to counteract the magik that had appeared to render Madoc dead. He let more trickle through, more than Madoc needed to rouse, enough to keep him stronger than Sulien and Ephraim, although he knew his friend would be angry with him. He always wanted to give more, enough to make his decaying Fire whole but Madoc consistently refused, just kept saying it was his time to die, he was tired, and he wanted peace as nature intended.

"I am not old," Madoc grumbled, allowing Guardian to help him to his feet.

Guardian chuckled. "You were incredibly convincing when you fell."

"I can still do falling, youngling. Did he get away?"

"The Cariad? Yes, he made it past the City walls with the… other." Guardian sat down on the ground next to Madoc, casually crossing his legs and resting his chin on his knees.

"The man who came to find him… he was unharmed?" Madoc looked concerned, and Guardian had to remind himself Madoc's hostility in Chambers with the rest of the Council was merely an act.

"Completely unharmed, as far as I could see."

"I used lesser magik on the Cariad, but it pained me that I had to hurt him at all."

Guardian held out a hand, palm upwards, and allowed a little of his Fire to collect there.

"I am sorry you had to do that." He tried to sound confident and not let his own grief color his words, but Madoc clearly saw through him.

"The Cariad is strong," Madoc said softly. "He healed, and the two of them are now together, the crimson Fire and the blue. As it should be."

"Are we doing the right thing?" Guardian hated that he sounded so unsure, but Madoc didn't comment on it.

"The library is clear enough on what needs to happen to save our world and the Otherworld. The one called Kian has found his hunter and their union is unbreakable. We can only hope that the Cariad red and the other's will fulfill the second prophecy."

"The third part…" Guardian closed his fist around the tendrils of Fire, grief in his heart. The books that held the old stories, the Cariad stories about old magik, were hidden away from general view, but there was not one single day when Guardian didn't pore over them to find answers. The third part of this whole "balancing the two worlds" prophecy wasn't open to interpretation. It spoke of two amber Fires and a bond so intense it would defy anyone who tried to break it.

"The amber Fires. Is that what is worrying you? There is nothing that we can do until we see for sure that any of what is written makes any kind of sense."

"Who would want me?" The words tumbled from Guardian's lips unbidden. He hadn't meant to vocalize his own petty fears.

Madoc simply shook his head and sighed, and then proceeded to move the direction of the conversation.
"
So tell me
,
n
ew
Guardian, will
your wards really h
old so they
don
'
t see I
'
m still alive?
"