The Dark Age (22 page)

Maelgwn was exulted by the man's gesture, for to give a fellow ruler such a fine weapon was a true token of one's goodwill and allegiance.

The other lords and ladies of Gwynedd came forth to bestow their gifts and be introduced to their new Queen. When all had been seen in turn, it came time for Tory and the Prince to exchange gifts.

Maelgwn summoned Taliesin forth. He carried a cushion of red, on top of which was a fine silver necklet. It featured a dainty pendant, no bigger than Tory's middle fingernail, with the same black onyx dragon that Maelgwn wore. The King lifted it and spoke in a whisper as he placed it around her neck. ‘This be the work of the folk. I shall explain its enchantment and place it where it be truly intended, later.'

Tory raised her eyebrows at the suggestion. ‘I can hardly wait,' she kissed him. ‘I love it.'

On cue, Bryce carefully made his way toward the King, the gift of the Goddess that he carried in his hands was hidden by a cloth of royal blue.

‘I thank thee, Bryce,' Tory said. ‘Majesty, may I introduce the young Earl of Penmon.' Bryce bowed deeply to the King, dumbfounded by the honour.

Maelgwn could barely believe his eyes; this was Calin, just as he remembered him from childhood. The King didn't have to think too hard to figure out where he'd come from. ‘Arise dear cousin, I am pleased thou hast found thy way home to thy kindred.' He ruffled the boy's hair. ‘And what have we here?' He cocked an eye at Tory as he raised the cover and observed the beautiful set before him. ‘Magnificent! A game of sorts?'

‘Aye. A game of wits and strategy known as chess.'

As Maelgwn hugged her tightly, Taliesin came forward rubbing his hands together. ‘Splendid, so who fancies a game?'

Sir Rhys approached the royal table and politely interrupted the merriment. He bowed before announcing quietly to the King, ‘Chiglas hast sent thee a wedding gift, Majesty, and frankly thou art not going to like it.'

Tory's eyes narrowed at his words. ‘Cadogan,' she concluded without a doubt.

‘Aye,' Rhys nodded, his tone as suspicious as her own. ‘Chiglas wants to offer him in exchange for Caradoc's release. Shall I show the messenger in, or have him wait for thee in thy room of court?'

Maelgwn looked at Tory, confused. Should he rejoice at Cadogan's deliverance, or lock him up for fear of treachery?

‘Do not trust it,' Tory cautioned.

Maelgwn, still unsure, turned to Taliesin for advice, but the High Merlin only shrugged. ‘Thou art well
aware that I am not permitted to advise thee in such matters. In thy place, however, I would surely heed my wife, for she be thy intuition, Majesty.'

Tory held a hand to her heart. ‘I feel I am right about this.'

Though he was still far from convinced, Maelgwn said, ‘Take Cadogan to his chamber where he may bathe, eat, and recover. See that both he and the messenger are confined to separate quarters until two days hence, when we shall consider the matter at court. Place a guard to ensure my wishes art adhered to, and tell Cadogan I shall see him on the morrow.'

Rhys bowed and went about his bidding at once.

‘I hope thou art right, Tory. Cadogan hast served me well in the past.'

Tory was not about to let Chiglas spoil the day. ‘My dear husband, if Cadogan hast truly been held prisoner these two weeks past then he shall need to rest. And besides, this be our wedding day, dost thou not have more pressing matters to attend to this night?'

Maelgwn grinned. ‘Of course, I quite forgot myself for a moment. Please, tell me of thy wondrous game.'

Tory presented him with a book of instructions and moves that she had written, with a little help from Taliesin, in the King's own tongue.

‘Thy penmanship be truly outstanding,' Maelgwn noted, and he invited Tory to a game. This was to the great entertainment of the menfolk, who all gathered around with their mead trying to get the gist of the rules.

Following a scintillating match of wits, Tory found herself in checkmate and so took the opportunity to
leave. It was high time she made for her husband's chambers to ready herself for her wedding night.

‘How long?' Maelgwn whispered, wearing a lurid grin.

‘Katren will fetch thee.' She kissed him, before bidding all a good night.

The whistles and cheers of encouragement that arose from the men as she accompanied Katren, Alma, and Cara from the room could only compare to a grand final football match. As bold as she was, Tory nevertheless found this embarrassing and was glad when they reached the hallway.

The girls quickly ushered Tory to Maelgwn's chambers, but she came to a stop in the doorway, taken aback by the sight and perfume of so many flowers. Ivy spiralled up the posts of the huge bed, and was intertwined with roses, jasmine and lily of the valley. Posies of flowers filled the candle-lit room, and a small feast was set out on a table by the fire. Tory had never seen Maelgwn's room at Aberffraw and considered it a fair exchange for her tower. All her things had been brought to her new quarters, which were not as large and grand as Maelgwn's room at Degannwy but more snug and intimate. Her love had grown up in this room, and thus she felt an immediate affinity with it.

‘Say something!' Katren prompted.

‘It be simply beautiful, ladies.'

‘Jasmine be for joy and lily of the valley be for thy happiness,' Alma explained with delight.

‘White roses represent spiritual love.' Cara raised her hands to prayer position.

‘Red be for passion and the ivy … be for devotion,' Katren finished in a dramatic fashion, before she broke into a giggle.

‘What be this?' Tory asked, lifting off the bed a perfectly plain, long, white silk slip.

My wedding gift to the King.

Tory heard Taliesin's voice in her mind.

Let us just say, I know what he fancies.

Aye, Tory thought, decidedly. Maelgwn will love it.

 

Maelgwn was aware of Katren the second she entered the room, as was Sir Brockwell. Despite being in the midst of a game of chess, the King didn't wait for Katren to reach him before he stood to take his leave. ‘My greatest apologies to thee, Vortipor, but I am afraid duty calls.' Maelgwn grinned broadly as he bowed to his guests.

‘I shall not detain thee when such fair game awaits thee elsewhere. Nominate a replacement that I can massacre in thy stead,' Vortipor requested with cheery confidence, before adding as an afterthought, ‘Not the magician!'

Maelgwn looked about at those who had been following the game. ‘Sir Rhys, doth thou feel confident to complete my victory?'

‘Aye Majesty, blindfolded.'

With this settled, Maelgwn made haste to his chambers. He passed Alma and Cara in the hall, who were en route back to the festivities.

‘Sleep well, Majesty,' Alma said.

‘But I doubt it,' Cara emphasised as they both hurried on.

Tory was kneeling down in the middle of Maelgwn's bed when he entered. Her long golden ringlets, freed from the combs, fell softly about her bare shoulders and down her back. The white silk of the slip caught the candlelight, and she furnished Maelgwn with an alluring smile. ‘More becoming, I hope?'

He recalled the conversation they'd had on her first morning at Degannwy. ‘I have no objection.' He gloated upon her loveliness as he removed the black gunna and cast it across the room. ‘So long ago, yet I desired thee even then. I must confess, I did battle with my conscience when I found thee asleep by the fire that night.'

‘So that be how I got to bed.' Tory smiled in recollection; it had all been a bit hazy at the time.

‘Aye.' He threw aside his boots. ‘I showed great restraint, I must say. Thou wast rather the worse for mead as I recall, and somewhat keen to oblige.'

This was news to Tory, still she didn't care about that. ‘I shall always be keen to oblige thee.' She watched as Maelgwn removed his shirt, exposing the smooth muscular torso that she hadn't even been granted a glimpse of till now.

‘In that case …' Maelgwn crawled onto the bed to take a seat before her. He'd dreamt of their union many times, yet now that it had arrived he no longer felt in any hurry. ‘I promise I shall never leave thee wanting.' He held a hand to her cheek and gently guided her lips towards his own.

For a warrior of such size, Maelgwn's caresses were very tender. His hands almost quivered as they slid from
her neck down over the thin film of silk that concealed her naked body.

A wave of awareness beset Tory, and every part of her tingled as her skin became alerted to his touch.

Maelgwn's hands slipped to her waist, his kisses finding their way towards her cleavage. Ever so gently, he raised her to a kneeling position and paused to look at her.

‘I almost forgot.' He smiled as he lifted the thin straps of the slip from her shoulders. As he let them go, he delighted in the sight of the garment slipping down over her body. His fingertips glided over her soft, smooth skin, from her knees, over her thighs, and up behind her neck to remove his wedding gift. ‘This,' he began, but he was distracted by the desire to kiss her and did so several times; the sensation of her naked body pressed hard against his own was far too compelling. ‘This,' he tried again, ‘is very special, and it belongs …' His eyes lowered and he gently kissed each of her breasts before kissing the space just below her navel. ‘Here.' He hung the charm in its place. ‘It shall protect thee, and Gwynedd's heir from harm.' He kissed the pendant.

Tory reached down, running her fingers through his long silky hair and held him close a moment. ‘I do love thee, Maelgwn of Gwynedd.' She thought of the intent of his gift sweet, though its purpose was a bit of a worry.

‘And I thee, Tory Alexander.' He overwhelmed her with affection as they sank back onto his bed.

The desire she'd been suppressing for so long finally found its release, as the tears of sweet relief trickled
down her cheeks. She closed her eyes and lay back in a state of rapture, savouring the sensation of her husband exploring her pleasures for the first time.

 

Rhys had gone on to victory over Vortipor on the chessboard, and King Catulus of Dumnonia now matched wits with the old King of Gwent Is Coed. In his drunken state — one that now prevailed over the whole court — Catulus was furnishing old King Caninus and Vortipor with a detailed account of the new King of Gwynedd's colourful history.

Taliesin was pleased to expand on the stories, feeling that his every word drew the allies closer together. Rome had many problems and was far away. Its priests here numbered but few and could be easily suppressed before they forced the native people into submission. Catulus seemed more than eager to return to the old ways in Dumnonia. King Caninus, although truly amazed by it all, had been raised in the Church of Rome and admitted to hold little understanding of the great mysteries of the land of his birth. He was, however, curious to learn, as Maelgwn's great ancestry was also his own.

Lady Gladys was in her element, seated by two kings who were roughly the same age as herself. She lent her wisdom to advise on the game and the great legends, as she remembered them. The aging widow was constantly flattered and propositioned by the noble pair, and she basked in the attention.

Tiernan, Angus, Rhys and his wife Jenovefa, who was heavy with child, were seated by the fire. The
knights were entertaining Cara and Alma with mead and adventurous tales of battle. Selwyn accompanied their stories with his harp to intensify the mood.

Brockwell looked on, discontented. He hadn't had a drink all night in a gallant attempt to stay out of trouble, but his sobriety only served to make Katren's virtuous curves seem all the more attractive to him. To add to his woes, he hadn't been given a chance to say more than two words to her since the wedding. Now that he thought about it, she hadn't returned to the dining room in quite some time …

 

As Brockwell made his way to the kitchens, he conceded that he was quite pleased with the way things had turned out. His King and Tory were most likely in the throes of marital bliss, and if Katren was in the mood to show him some favour, all would be rather grand this night.

The huge kitchens of the house were a hive of activity, as they would be for the next three days. Brockwell found Katren sponging Bryce's face clean, preparing the exhausted youngster for bed.

‘Sir Brockwell.' Bryce became excited and Katren turned with a smile to greet him.

‘Bryce, thou art my brother now, thus thee must call me Calin.' He lifted the boy from the bench and relieved him of the tedious task of being bathed.

‘Wow! Will thou teach me to be a great knight like thou art, Calin?'

‘Aye. And in years to come, thee shall grow to be the King's Champion.'

‘Thou art going to win on the morrow, I know it.' Bryce placed a small hand on Brockwell's shoulder in support.

‘I shall certainly pursue the title to the best of my ability, and thou art coming to watch, of course.'

‘Aye, I have never been to a tournament before,' Bryce exclaimed, jumping up and down, unable to contain himself.

‘Then thee had best get to bed where thee should have been ages ago, or thou shalt surely sleep in and miss all the action,' Katren teased, taking up his hand.

‘Nay.' Bryce withdrew his hand from hers. ‘My brother will take me.' Bryce looked at Brockwell, who shrugged at Katren as he tossed the boy over his shoulder.

‘Do not go anywhere, I will be back,' he advised her over Bryce's squeals of delight.

Upon his return, Katren was fussing about preparing trays of food.

‘Katren!' Calin took hold of her hands. ‘Leave this to the servants, thou art a lady now and the last place thee belongs be in a kitchen. Come with me for a stroll through the grounds instead.' He raised his brow in anticipation.

‘Some fresh air and exercise before bed would be good,' she supposed, wrapping the long train of her dress about her shoulders and accompanying Calin outside. ‘Thou hast done very well this day, Calin.' Katren made polite conversation as her escort had gone rather quiet. ‘Thy lady love married another, and still thou hast not touched a drop of mead all day.'