Song of the Fairy Queen (65 page)

Oryan reached too for Kyri, brushed his hand over her gilded hair.

Touched by that gesture as much as by the kiss, Kyri smiled, understanding as only she and Morgan could. Oryan been alone all this time. They each had been.

Her throat tightened.

Now they weren’t.

“Let me look at you,” Oryan said, his voice rough. “I still can’t believe it. We thought you dead. We searched…”

He’d thought Morgan dead and yet still had sent men to scour the countryside, hoping against hope to find him...

“Who are these others, then?” Oryan said, finally remembering himself. “Galan, of course, I know. It’s good to see you again, my friend. We’ve missed you as well.”

It was nothing more than the truth. He genuinely liked the quiet, gentle Fairy.

Galan smiled and inclined his head slightly.

Taking a breath, Morgan said, “You remember Caleb, of course.”

With a salute and a sharp nod of his head, Caleb said, “Highness.”

“Of course,” Oryan said, remembering.

Morgan’s aide. So they’d found each other, too. That was wonderful.

“This is Colton and his family, Brion and Angela.”

Her eyes big, Angela asked in a whisper, “Are you really the King?”

Oryan chuckled. “So they tell me.”

“I like you better than the other one.”

Horrified, Colton said, “Angela, what did I tell you?”

Amused, Oryan said. “I like to think so, too.”

“Of late, Colton maintained a safe house to the east and south,” Morgan said. “It’s been compromised. You might want to put a warning out.”

“Geoffrey?” Oryan said.

A gaping Geoffrey nodded and hurried out.

“This,” Morgan said, “is Gordon. He’s been keeping a special charge.”

With a little frown, hearing something in Morgan’s voice, Oryan looked at him.

“You might know the young man, your Highness,” Morgan said. “His name is Gawain.”

Gordon stepped aside.

For a moment Oryan could only stand frozen in disbelief, looking at the boy.

Oryan’s throat tightened.

Gawain.

His son
.

Not a boy any longer but almost a man. Tall, taller than Oryan had expected. Gwen had promised him tall sons and daughters and in that she’d been right. He looked into Gawain’s eyes, into clear gray eyes so like his mother’s.
Gwenifer
.

All he could think of was that Gawain had her eyes, truly. He’d forgotten that.

She would have been so proud.

His son.

His and his mother’s.

Gawain had gone equally shy, staring at this man he barely remembered, save as a tall man who’d bounced him on his knee while his mother had given him sword lessons.

Oryan was somehow both taller and smaller than Gawain expected.

It was so strange.

Memories fluttered through his mind like Kyri’s wings.

All Oryan could do was stare at his son.

He was a handsome boy. How had they, he and his beloved Gwen, managed that?

Then he took a step forward.

“Forgive me, Gawain” he said. “I know you don’t really know me.”

He reached out, his hand shaking, and touched his son’s hair for the first time in six years or more. Just for a moment.

“You have her eyes,” he said, his voice shaking to match his hand. “You have your mother’s eyes.”

Gwen.

Then he pulled the boy, his son, into his arms, and bowed his head.

All who remained around the table in Oryan’s tent were the King himself, young Gawain, Morgan, Kyri, Galan, Caleb, young Jordan of Dorset and John of Orland. Kyri narrowed her eyes at that last and reminded herself she could kill him later. Gordon, professing himself a simple soldier, waited outside.

For now, they were still getting through the whole story for the first time.

Kyri would have passed over some parts more lightly, especially the more painful parts. It was her nature.

There had been times during the telling when Morgan held her hand so tightly she thought he might crush her fingers and then he would lift them to his mouth to kiss them lightly, his blue eyes looking into hers.

By turns Oryan had been astonished, shocked, horrified, and amazed. It pained him to hear what Haerold had done to Gwenifer. He was relieved to know her soul was now finally free, but it pained him even more to know what they’d done to Morgan. The long years of suffering, of torment and torture while they’d searched for him.

Then there was what Haerold had done to Caernarvon, his home.

He’d known Haerold had put the city to the torch, but that he’d turned it into his private prison…

Now he sat back and stared at all of them, his hand absently going to his son’s hair to stroke.

“You said you’d know he was in trouble,” Oryan said to Kyri, his throat tight. “After so long, I was afraid Gawain was gone, too. Or at least lost to me. Like Morgan.”

Kyri shook her head. “The spell would’ve released him when he hit his majority or Galan would have done it for him, if I couldn’t.”

With a nod of his head, Galan confirmed her words.

Oryan waved his hand, “I know and you told me Morgan was alive, but after so long…”

He sighed and looked first to Morgan, then to Gawain, before looking to Kyri.

”I should’ve trusted you.”

“Even if Morgan would have died,” Kyri said, and her throat tightened at the thought, grief piercing her until Morgan’s hand tightened on her own.

He was here. He was alive, she reminded herself and looked Morgan to confirm it.

Morgan lifted her hand to his lips to reassure her.

Smiling, Kyri nodded.

“There was always Gawain,” Kyri said. “I’m bound to him. I would’ve stayed until his memories returned to him or my successor was born.”

Looking at his son, Oryan said, “A wizard. We thought he might be as it runs in both our families. Haerold doesn’t just get it from his thrice-damned father but through our mother. Gwenifer had none but her uncle had the gift. That’s why it was so important to keep him safe, he’s our best hope. Can you train him, Kyri?”

“Magic is magic,” she said.“It’s only the darker magics I don’t know and I don’t want to, but between Galan and myself I think we can teach him what he needs to know.”

“All right,” Oryan said, thoughtfully. “The question is, what do we do now?”

He turned to look at Gawain.

“This is a lot on you, son,” he said and waited to hear what Gawain would say.

Gawain sighed. “I was raised on tales of you, sir… my m… Liliane...”

Waving that away, Oryan said, “She was your mother for much of your life, Gawain. You can call her that. Knowing Gwenifer as I did, she wouldn’t have minded, knowing how devoted Liliane was to you. Go on… You can speak freely here among us….”

Pausing, Gawain said, “All this time, I’ve been thinking. Kyri said that among her people, even the Queen has to live as her people do, to know them. In a way, that’s what I’ve been doing all these years. I don’t know much about being a King, but I do know that what Haerold does is wrong. Liliane died for me, to keep me safe so I could do that. Morgan, Kyri – she nearly died helping me get away – Galan, all of them, have been trying, fighting, to get me here. If you show me how, sir, I’ll do my best to be the King our people need.”

Oryan’s throat went tight.

“That’s all I can ask, Gawain,” Oryan said, his voice thick. “I’m proud of you, son.”

Gawain straightened, his eyes brightening.

“And what about you, Morgan? What now?” Oryan asked.

“I need to find out how many of my Marshals are still alive and free. Start recruiting again,” Morgan said.

Oryan laughed, relief running through him. “I meant to ask only if you wanted your old job back, but I take it then that the answer is yes.”

Given everything Morgan had been through, even knowing him as well as he did Oryan wouldn’t have been surprised to hear him say no and, considering the circumstances, it might have been wiser. Oryan wasn’t certain whether he would have blamed Morgan for walking away.

Nodding, Morgan let out a breath. “That would be a yes.”

“Kyri?”

Morgan turned look at her, awaiting her answer although he knew what it was. His hand tightened on hers as she smiled at him.

Giving Morgan a look and then these others who now knew her so well, Kyri said, “Well, first, I have to kill John.”

The non sequitur took them all by surprise, although Morgan choked on laughter.

Startled, both Oryan and John looked at her in astonishment, as Gawain and Caleb burst into laughter.

“What, why?” John squeaked, as even Morgan smothered laughter again at his expression.

“For writing that thrice bedamned song,” Kyri said, exasperated beyond all belief. “Do you have any idea how much that’s bedeviled me?”

Oryan fought not to laugh, knowing exactly what she was talking about. He tried to smother it, but he so needed it.

He burst out laughing

“Ah, that,” John said, finally, looking a little embarrassed.

“Yes, ah that,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him.

By now even John smothered laughter, if slightly abashed, laughter.

“Don’t give me ah that. Killing is almost too good for you. Fair warning,” she said, narrowing her eyes, “I will get even.”

“Oh Gods,” Oryan said, gasping for air, “Kyri, we’ve missed you.”

She grinned impishly.

This, Morgan realized, was what had been missing in the years she’d been gone, this ability to lighten the tension even in the darkest moments.

“As for your question,” she said, looking at Morgan first, her eyes soft and then at Oryan and Morgan knew what the answer would be.

“Of course.”

Morgan tightened his fingers around hers, before he lifted them to his mouth and kissed them.

A breath sighed out of her.

Smiling, Kyri looked back at Morgan and nodded. “I’m staying. Galan can if he chooses. I will ask among my people for more volunteers. All those who’d like to return and render aid to your cause.”

Although he’d known, had been certain despite all of his fear for her, Morgan was relieved. He needed her at his side. And they would need every advantage they had and could find.