The Dark Age (12 page)

The angle of the citadel, featured on each of the hexagon's six screens, progressively changed as Tory walked slowly around it. This gave her the option of viewing the situation from every possible direction. On the screen to which the Merlin referred was a view looking out from the citadel into the distance. She saw many other armies approaching, which didn't appear to be Saxons. ‘My god, Taliesin!' Tory was overwhelmed by the multitudes. ‘I hope they're on our side.'

 

The Saxon onslaught had been relentless, despite the pelting rain that hindered them in their repeated attempts to scale the wall and raise the portcullis. The Prince took a more active part in this battle than he usually did and was surprised to find that, without even thinking, he used his newly acquired fighting skills. This, combined with his hatred for his brother and his desire to speed back to Aberffraw, was making him a fearsome adversary this day. After many hours of this the opposition were beginning to avoid him, and Maelgwn had to keep chasing up on his opponents. Six of the Saxon thugs tried to launch a simultaneous attack but it did not serve them well. The Prince cut four of them down with ease before the remaining two turned and fled. He laughed triumphantly, scanning the area to see where he could best be of aid. To his horror, he saw the outer portcullis being raised and ran to prevent it.

‘Cedric!' Maelgwn spotted his knight and, slaying the Saxon Cedric was battling, recruited his services to help him lower the portcullis. ‘We have to stop them, or Degannwy will be lost.'

‘As be thy wish, Majesty,' growled the huge, brawny warrior, charging off to cut a path to the outer-bailey wall.

The fighting was thickest around the barbican that housed the heavy iron grille gate, making it difficult to tell who held the upper hand. With Cedric covering his back, Maelgwn fought his way to the gatekeeper's station. The bodies of men from both sides were strewn along their path, as the battle for control of the gate's winch had been intense. Maelgwn killed a Saxon who was racing for the tower also, then burst through the door of the mind to slay the soldier guarding the winch.

‘Nay Majesty,' the gatekeeper pleaded for his life, weary from fending off the enemy to secure the gate. ‘We must open it. See,' he pointed to the scene unfolding beyond the citadel walls.

Sir Tiernan, accompanied by King Catulus and the other noblemen of the south, had already dispersed the enemy outside and were awaiting entry.

‘In that case,' Maelgwn placed his sword in its scabbard, and took hold of the huge iron winch, ‘allow me to give thee a hand.'

Within minutes the portcullis was raised and, as their allies entered the outer bailey, a victory cry was heard from the ranks of the Britons.

‘Good show,' the Prince congratulated the gatekeeper. Then, taking hold of the gates' heavy iron chain, he slid down it to greet his fellow nobles.

‘Got a tad quiet down our way. I wondered where all the lanky bastards had got to,' King Catulus cried out in jest to the exhausted Prince.

‘We gathered thee might need a hand,' Tiernan added.

So Caswallon suspected after all, the Prince realised. At this moment Maelgwn had to admit his father was indeed not the crazy old man he had thought. ‘I tell thee all, most assuredly, thy timely presence be most welcome.' He bowed to them. ‘I fear the battle may be only beginning, however, for I expect we will find an even greater threat waiting near Caernarvon.'

Though Tiernan suspected Maelgwn's fears were justified, he dismounted to advise. ‘Let us speak inside the citadel, out of this dreaded rain. I am sure we have much to discuss before charging off anywhere.'

 

By nightfall, Maelgwn had conveyed the whole sordid tale to Tiernan, holding nothing back. The Prince found it hard to break the news about the King's affliction, but Tiernan took it better than expected.

Although Tiernan was only thirty-seven years of age, he was more of a father figure to the Prince than the King had ever been. As Maelgwn's war chief and right-hand man during the uprising of his Uncle Cadfer, the Prince trusted him completely and felt at ease to speak his mind.

When the subject of Tory arose, Tiernan couldn't help but notice how Maelgwn's spirits lifted. ‘I never thought I would see the day the Dragon would fall,' commented Tiernan, appearing grave as he swished the mead around in his goblet.

‘Fall!' The Prince looked at him. ‘I have no intention of being defeated.'

‘In love,' Tiernan explained with a chuckle.

Even at his age, this ruggedly handsome knight was still a bachelor and openly confessed to being an incurable romantic. Tiernan claimed to enjoy the company of ladies far too much to ever tie himself down to only one.

Maelgwn grinned with embarrassment, refilling his goblet. ‘Oh, that. Aye well, if love keeps thee awake at night, plaguing thy sleep with visions and cold sweats, then I dare say thou art right.'

The Prince's view amused Tiernan. ‘Did thee say she fights, this girl?' He appeared sceptical.

Maelgwn looked at him earnestly. ‘Thee could not imagine the power of her technique, not in thy wildest dreams.' Maelgwn held up a finger as if struck by a thought, and retrieved a piece of wood from the pile near the fireplace. After removing his boots, he instructed Tiernan to hold the chunk of wood out in front of him. The Prince focused on the object, then kicked out and split the wooden target with the side of his bare foot. This proved impressive enough to capture Tiernan's interest.

‘By the Goddess!'

‘At first I thought it impossible myself! Yet in only a month she hast taken me this far. This be nothing compared to what Tory can do, and I foresee no limit to how far we could take this skill.'

‘Dost thy father know?'

‘Nay, he fell sick so suddenly that now he be too delirious to comprehend it.'

Tiernan slapped Maelgwn's shoulder in excitement. ‘The men said thee fought like a demon today, now I see why!'

At last the Prince truly felt his plan was plausible; if Tiernan was excited it had to be sound. This led him to wonder, and he asked, ‘Must I still wed Vanora?'

Tiernan had to laugh at the Prince, who appeared so terribly harrowed by the thought. ‘Nay, that was never truly intended. 'Twas just a means to an end.'

Maelgwn collapsed back into his seat, relieved beyond all comprehension.

‘After the slaying of Cadfer we suspected Chiglas and Caradoc would retaliate. It was only a matter of time before they felt Powys was in a position to do so. So thy father was compelled to agree with Chiglas' proposal, and we led everyone to believe thy marriage was legitimate so that none would suspect us of biding our time to arrange a counterattack strategy. We should rest overnight and make for Aberffraw before dawn tomorrow.'

‘Nay!' Maelgwn stood in protest. ‘We must cross tonight.'

‘Please Majesty, see reason. Chiglas' troops will not be able to cross the strait in this frightful weather, and it be far too risky for Gwynedd's heir to be crossing in darkness. I am afraid I must insist.'

‘They will manage, as will I. Caradoc will not suspect the Saxon defeat here to have been so swift, and we must take advantage of his ignorance.' A knock on the door silenced him. ‘Enter.'

It was Sir Madoc. ‘I hope I am not disturbing thee.'

‘Nay Madoc, close the door. We could use thy wisdom a moment. Our young Prince hast got it in his head to cross the Menai this night.'

‘Nay! Certainly not!' Madoc was horrified. ‘Thee will surely perish in the storm.'

‘Nonsense!' Maelgwn was angered by their childish treatment of him. ‘I can swim that strait four times over, and I shall be departing this night escort or no.'

 

After allowing her to witness Maelgwn's triumph, Taliesin flatly refused to answer any more questions until after Tory had some rest. He showed her to a room that was almost an exact replica of her own at home, en suite included. It contained all the twentieth-century mod cons that she'd been secretly missing this past month.

‘When you leave take whatever you desire. I know the adjustment to sixth-century life can't have been easy.' Taliesin sympathised with his awestruck guest. ‘You'll find shampoo and the like in the bathroom. I guessed you would probably be low on supplies by now.'

Tory discovered that the toiletries were the same brands she normally bought. It spooked her that this celestial entity, a stranger to her but a few hours before, could know her so intimately. He'd thought of everything from toothpaste to tampons. There was a solar recharger of double A batteries, the size that her CD Walkman took, and there were new clothes, her style and size, in the wardrobe. All her books were there for her reference. Her two other saxophones, a tenor and a soprano, sat in the corner where she had left them at home. The only apparent difference was that there were no windows. ‘I don't know what to say,'
she told him quietly, feeling both delighted and surprised.

‘Then best say nothing. This has been quite an adventure, even for a woman of Sorcha's courage and strength, and it is far from over yet.'

There was one question in her million that Tory had to ask. She approached the kindly bard so he might see how much it meant to her. ‘I have to contact my parents, Taliesin. Can you get me back home?'

‘Not till summer solstice, I'm afraid.' He seemed, in a way, to be bothered by the notion. ‘I have no machine for time travel. I brought you here the old way, by channelling the universal energies that abide at particular sites on this planet at certain times of the astrological year. The calculations for such an enterprise, as you can imagine, are enormous! These days, however, I have my computers to assist me with the chore. Now that is all. Time to rest.' The magician held the palm of his hand to the Dragon on Tory's forehead, and caught her up in his arms as she fell unconscious.

‘My, how I have missed thee.' Taliesin laid her down on the bed, then took a seat to observe her at peace. ‘So many fine adventures we have had, you and I. And so many more await us yet.'

 

Though Tory's sleep was deep, she woke with a start feeling ill at ease. Taliesin sat opposite her on a lounge. He smiled, seeming content to wait for her to get her wits together.

‘What has happened, Taliesin?'

He rose to calm her. ‘We are one step ahead, fear not. Bathe, dress, eat … there is no rush.' He waved to the food that had been laid out. ‘I shall return for you thereupon.' He gave a slight bow and headed for the door. ‘I have need to rally Brockwell, and that could take some doing.'

Tory did as instructed, sensing as she bathed that her encounter with Caradoc, which she'd been dreading these past few days, was soon to take place. She didn't understand how she knew this, as she'd never shown any evidence of psychic skill. Who was this Sorcha? Could it have something to do with her, she wondered. Tory didn't really dig the idea of someone else looming in her mind.
Still, if Sorcha is really just an extension of myself, a part of me I have long forgotten, a whole wealth of information may be lying dormant in my subconscious.

Tory picked at the food as she dressed. She found a new white shirt and pulled out her old Levis from her luggage. Over the lot she wore the dark green gunna. As she laced up her steel-capped boots Tory felt prepared for just about anything. She pulled her hair back into a tight bun and inspected herself in the mirror. The Dragon on her forehead held her gaze. She hadn't attempted to remove it, for, in this time of war, she was proud to bear the Prince's mark.

Taliesin and Brockwell arrived just as Tory was ready to go.

‘Holy Mother!' Brockwell strolled in, checking everything out. ‘Look at this place.' The bathroom in particular seemed to interest him and he walked inside. ‘What be this?'

‘Not now, Calin,' Taliesin scolded him, then turned to address Tory, employing a very different tone of voice. ‘You appear much refreshed. Are you ready?'

Tory, unsure, nodded anyway.
Ready for what?

‘Caradoc hast made his move.'

Taliesin's statement was so direct that it startled Tory, and the very mention of Caradoc's name sent shivers down her spine.

‘What doth thou mean?' Brockwell grumbled loudly, still blissfully unaware that there was any major threat to Gwynedd.

‘Come,' Taliesin turned to guide them, his voice conveying the gravity of the situation.

As they made haste to the control room, Taliesin brought them up to date with their state of affairs. ‘Maelgwn hast left Degannwy, and be on his way back to Aberffraw.'

‘The Menai?' Tory caught Taliesin up.

‘Nay, he hast yet to cross it.' Taliesin was well aware of her fears. ‘Caradoc's timing be indeed inconvenient. I fear Maelgwn will not make it home in time to stop him. That leaves
us
to prevent a siege at Aberffraw.'

‘Have I missed something?' Brockwell was stunned by the news.

Taliesin paid him no mind, holding his hand out before him and parting the doors to the control room.

Brockwell stopped and took a step backwards. ‘This be too strange.'

Tory turned to him, feeling pressed for time. ‘Calin, thou art a child at times, would thee like me to hold thy hand?' she teased.

He shook his head slowly, bemused by all of Taliesin's paraphernalia. ‘Hast thou no fear at all?'

‘Fear exists in the mind alone.' She coaxed him closer.

‘I will remember thee said that,' Taliesin replied.

But Tory remained focused on Calin, fed up with his silly superstitions. ‘Maelgwn, King Caswallon, and quite possibly the rest of thy kin, art in grave danger, so get over it, soldier!'

Taliesin had taken up his position behind the panel. Tory approached, stepping up behind him. ‘Okay, let's have it.'

The Merlin passed his hand over the crystal ball and the huge hexagon rotated the equivalent of one screen. It lit up to display the scene inside the main dining hall at Aberffraw, in a two-dimensional form.