The Dark Age (28 page)

Tory instructed them all to take a few deep breaths and still their minds, before taking hold of the hand of the person on either side of them. After much complaining, they finally followed the simple instruction. ‘Culprits pay for time wasted.'

‘I can vouch for that,' Maelgwn added to lighten the mood.

Tory flashed him a smile, ever thankful for his constant support. She drew another deep breath, of the mind to unite this mismatched bunch by spring if it killed her. ‘Take a look around this circle … at each other. Thou art going to be spending much time together, and thus it will be far less painful for us all if everyone makes an effort to get along.' Tory's eyes rested on Ione and Tiernan a moment as she said, ‘Remember, thou art all on the same side, a team, one whole. Thou art the future teachers, protectors and representatives of Gwynedd, of the Goddess and her mysteries.'

Tory noted they all sat a little taller, proud to have been chosen to be a part of this elite club. If she could just keep this momentum going, all would be well. ‘I want everyone here to consider the people seated around this circle to be as sacred to thyself as thy right arm. Regard them, at all times, with the same respect thee would want for thyself. This be the will and the way of the Goddess.'

‘So be it,' came the reply, with good cheer from most.

She went on to inform them of the advantages, like the weekends of leisure time, and of the grading system and how it worked. The King and Tory then presented them with their uniforms of white. For now, only Tory's clothes would be black. Her belt was also black, with two white bars. Those who were beginning were given white belts (tenth Kyu), the lowest grade. She considered Katren, Maelgwn, Cara and Alma to
be a grade above (ninth Kyu), knowing more than the others, and thus they had belts of white with a yellow bar. She then explained to them all that these grades were only temporary and that the first real grading would take place two months hence on the feast of Samhain.

This feast marked the beginning of the year for the Britons. The official date was the fifth day of Pethboc (November first), and it was celebrated the night before. Tory had decided upon this date when informed that it was also the traditional feast day of the War Goddess.

 

Sir Tiernan sought out the Queen that same night, and finding her alone in the library, he beseeched to know why she disfavoured him so.

Tory was surprised by his words. ‘On the contrary, Sir Tiernan, thou art very dear to me.'

‘Then why hast thou placed me with Ione, when thou art well aware we do not like each other.'

‘Really? I have spoken with Ione and she hast no problem with the arrangement. She only reacted as she did because you were so obviously opposed to the idea. What's more, I feel quite sure that it be not Ione that thou art objecting to, but rather an idea of her and “her kind” that thou hast built up in thy head.'

‘Perhaps.'

‘Tiernan.' Tory's tone softened. ‘There be another reason, which I hope thee will be sensitive enough to understand. I ask that it will go no further than thyself, as indeed I have not even told Maelgwn.'

This was the tone Sorcha often used, and he looked up, almost expecting to see her. ‘Pray speak, Majesty. Thou hast my strictest confidence.'

Tory invited him to sit down. She took a deep breath before beginning and spoke softly so that none might overhear. ‘This much I know of Ione for true. She was raped and relieved of her tongue at the tender age of eight. I have asked her about the incident, but she cannot or will not confide in me. Still, I have a fair idea who was responsible.'

Tiernan felt remorse for his rash judgement, and he hadn't yet heard the half of it.

‘This be where, I believe, her intense hatred of men — soldiers and nobles in particular — stems from. This also explains why she pretends to be crazy and why she hast built herself up so, to protect herself and others like her who may fall victim to the same fate. Ione be no whore, Tiernan. She can scarce tolerate a man near her, let alone …' Tory waved her hand around a second, trying to find an apt way of putting it.

‘I did not realise.'

Tory was warmed by his apparent change of heart and placed both her hands upon his. ‘Tiernan, thou art one of the most sensitive men I have ever known. I do not expect thee to court the girl, for heaven's sake, but if she can see that not all men art violent, mindless barbarians, perhaps she might lose some of her hatred and fear. I realise this shall require much patience on thy behalf, but I believe thou art well able to cope with the task. The question be, however, art thou prepared to?'

‘Aye, Majesty.' He seemed lost in thought for a moment, before he gave half a laugh. ‘It would seem I do not understand women half as well as I would like to believe.'

‘I would say that most of the men here art of the same mind at present. I do thank thee for thou consideration and kindness.'

‘Thou art the considerate one, Majesty.' Tiernan stood to kiss her hand in leaving. ‘May I ask, who dost thou suspect the attacker might have been?' The Queen seemed hesitant to answer, so he added, ‘I might be able to assist in some way.'

Tory resolved to confide in him, feeling Sorcha quietly influencing the decision. ‘Cadogan, and perhaps Caradoc as well.'

Tiernan didn't seem at all surprised by the suggestion. ‘I would say that thy instinct serves thee well. I would certainly not put it past either of them, especially in their younger days together.'

‘Dost thou think Cadogan loyal to Gwynedd, Tiernan?'

‘My good Queen,' he answered, knowing that this had been a point of contention between herself and the King, ‘in truth, I think Cadogan be loyal to Cadogan. I shall keep my eyes and ears open for thee.' He bowed and departed.

As she watched the knight leave, she recalled what she'd learnt of him from Sorcha's memories. Tory feared that he still pined for the Queen he'd loved so dearly and, moreover, blamed himself for not being there to save her from Cadfer. This was the reason Tory had
placed the two together, for deep down they had the same problem. Ione and Tiernan were both consumed by past tragedies, making them feel unworthy of love, or oblivious to it. This was a pity, as both were intelligent, handsome and deeply caring souls. How sad that people couldn't see through society's facade to behold the simple truth about each other, she thought.

O
n the Saturday that marked the masters' first full moon together, Tory woke earlier than usual. Her sleep had been disturbed by a dream, though she couldn't remember the details. Maelgwn was still blissfully asleep beside her, and as it was not very often that he slept so well, she decided to leave him to dream on in peace.

After she'd slung on her training gear, Tory headed down to the huge kitchens to see what she could find to eat. As she crossed the entrance hall, she was surprised to spy Sir Angus slipping out the main doors that led to the inner bailey. Tory moved quietly to see what he was up to at this early hour.

Angus had taken a seat at his appointed position on the sundial, to watch the sun rise in the dawn sky beyond the bailey wall.

‘Am I disturbing thee?' Tory asked softly, as Angus seemed miles away. Her voice startled the knight.

‘
Sensei
.' He went to stand.

‘Please, stay as thou art, Sir Angus. Sorry I gave thee a fright, it was not my intent.'

Angus just couldn't stay seated while he addressed his Queen and
Sensei
, so he stood in any case. ‘I did not expect to see anyone else up before sunrise.'

‘Nor did I,' Tory smiled, aware of his discomfort, and took a seat on the ground. ‘Why art thou up so early, sir, can thee not sleep?'

As he sat down again, his eyes drifted back to the sunrise. Angus didn't have the good looks shared by most of his comrades, yet he was by no means unattractive. And his angular face seemed very open and honest.

‘I come here every morn, in homage to the Goddess who hast chosen me as a master.'

‘Thy progress be most pleasing to her, Angus. Thee cannot honour her more than by giving her thy all.' Tory didn't really go for the idea of ritual worship; if one was doing what the ‘Divine' intended, what greater form of worship was there?

‘But there be no chore in it,
Sensei
. I have never known such joy as thy lessons bring me.'

‘My dear Sir Angus, in thy short life, thou hast already endured enough perilous tasks to keep the Otherworld and thy country indebted to thee for six lifetimes! Thou dost well deserve the rewards thou art only now beginning to reap.'

‘Still,' Angus appeared fit to burst. ‘I want to do more for her.'

Tory was pleased to notice that his eyes had drifted to the number four on the sundial, Alma's place in the circle of twelve.

‘She hast been so good to me.'

‘Well, a man hast got to do, what a man hast got to do, Angus.' She stood, adding with a smile as she departed, ‘Please stay, and by all means continue.'

 

Later that day, Tory and Maelgwn sent Selwyn on his way to Llyn Cerrig Bach to study under Taliesin till spring. The Queen had never seen the young man so excited, and although she knew he was in for the time of his life, she would miss him and his harp through the cold time.

“I shall think of thee, Majesty, every half noon.'

‘Oh Selwyn.' She gave him a huge hug, which he returned in earnest. ‘I believe the High Merlin shall put my playing to shame.' They drew back to look at each other. ‘And besides, thou shalt be so engrossed in thy studies that flowering shall be here before thee even realises. I feel sure Taliesin shall bring thee to visit us on Samhain. We cannot have thee missing all the fun, who shall play the harp for us?'

‘I shall be here if I have to come through a blizzard, Majesty.' Selwyn stepped back and bowed to them both. He then took up the reins of the mule that lugged his few belongings and led the animal towards the portcullis.

 

That same evening, when Maelgwn and Tory were engrossed in a game of chess by the fire, Brockwell came knocking at their chamber door.

‘Forgive the intrusion, Majesty, but I was wondering if I may speak with my sister a moment.'

‘Of course thee may, Calin.'

When Maelgwn showed no sign of leaving, Tory said, ‘I think Calin meant alone, Maelgwn.'

‘Why?'

‘Why not? Checkmate.'

Maelgwn stood, a little hurt not to be included. ‘Again, after dinner perhaps?'

‘My pleasure.'

Calin recognised this kind of abrupt behaviour in his friend and wanted to clear up any misunderstanding he might have. ‘I be seeking naught but a female's advice, I assure thee.'

‘Take thy time,' Maelgwn replied, as when it came to Tory's free time he had been a bit selfish of late. He left the room, closing the door on his way out.

Tory looked at Calin and had to laugh. Everyone else's uniform was perfectly neat, but the way Calin wore his it looked more like pyjamas. His pants were rolled up at the bottom as they were too long, while his shirt hung open and was all caught up at the belt. Calin looked just like Brian after a workout; he had never been shy when it came to flashing his robust body either.

‘What?' Brockwell couldn't understand her amusement.

‘Thee could have tidied thyself before coming, Calin. What be Maelgwn to think when thee arrives to speak with me appearing thus?'

‘But I did.'

Tory laughed again. ‘Why art thou here? No wait, let me guess … Katren.'

‘What am I to do, she hates me.' Calin collapsed onto the chair in front of her.

‘Of course she doesn't.'

‘She does! She flatly refuses to so much as see me outside of mastery.'

‘Perhaps she's just looking for a more permanent relationship than thou art willing to offer.'

‘But I asked her to marry me!' he declared, exasperated with the whole affair.

‘I said permanent.'

‘Awe, thou art no help.'

He was about to storm out when Tory suggested, ‘Why dost thou not write to her, Calin?'

Brockwell turned back to her, struck dumb by the notion.

‘Anything, a poem, a letter. Maelgwn wrote to me the day we wed and Katren thought it very romantic.' Tory felt that as he would one day be her brother, she did owe him a little advice.

‘I am no good at that sort of thing,' Brockwell groaned. ‘Would thou help me?'

Tory laughed, considering it was unfair to assist him when she was also advising his foe. ‘I am no poet. Why not ask Maelgwn, he be most accomplished.'

‘Nay, he would laugh.'

There came a knock on the door and, as luck would have it, the King entered.

‘Sorry, we need the chessboard,' Maelgwn said, to explain his intrusion.

Tory looked at Calin who shook his head in response. She frowned, for she was determined to bury the hatchet between these two. ‘Maelgwn?'

Calin repeatedly motioned her no, but stopped still as Maelgwn turned around.

‘Calin requires thy assistance in a small matter, could thee spare him some time?'

‘Sure, I owe thee a favour or two if memory serves. What be thy trouble?'

Tory approached the King, sliding her arms about his neck. ‘Remember the note thee sent me on the morn of the day we wed?'

‘I do.' He wondered what that could possibly have to do with anything.

‘Well, Calin be wanting to write something similar and doth not feel himself very gifted with words.'

Maelgwn turned to Calin, delighted. ‘Art thou in love, Calin?'

Calin nodded, unable to say it.

‘My darling,' Tory said to the King, ‘for a scholar thou art totally unaware at times.'

Maelgwn cocked an eye at her. ‘The lady in question would not be Katren, by any chance?' He recalled Tory and her maid plotting Calin's entrapment months ago.

‘Aye,' Brockwell grumbled. ‘The most stubborn, chaste maiden, one could ever come across.'

Maelgwn turned back to Tory. ‘My but thou art a crafty woman.'

‘The Goddess works in strange ways,' Tory rolled her eyes off to the side, not prepared to plead guilty.

‘As far as I be concerned anyway, damn her,' Brockwell said, becoming all hot and bothered.

‘Now, Calin, fear not! If thou wants this maiden, thou shalt have her. I feel sure between the two of us, we can have her won by Samhain.'

‘That be less than one month hence, Maelgwn, Katren swore she would not wed till spring, at least!' Brockwell replied.

‘Indeed, and the Goddess will not take kindly to those who disclose her secrets,' Tory cautioned the King. If Calin thought that his infatuation had been carefully devised and not of his own invention, he would lose interest at once.

‘Trust me.' Maelgwn winked at her as he escorted Brockwell to the door. ‘End of the month.'

 

Tory stared at the full moon from her window. Its intensity was apparently being felt by all, as it was not long before Alma, Cara, and Katren arrived at her door.

Katren was overjoyed to hear of the King's suggested date of Samhain, she was sure that she couldn't deny Calin his will, or indeed her own for much longer. ‘Oh Majesty, less than a month,' Katren hugged her. ‘Thee said I would know this joy, but I did scarce expect it would be so soon.'

‘I wish,' Alma sighed.

‘Me too,' Cara added.

‘Still, there be much work to be done before then. The fact that Calin wants thee be not enough in his case, I fear. He must want thee beyond all others, so again I caution, do not make it too easy for him.'

‘I have no intention of it,' Katren told her. ‘I plan to enjoy my independence while it lasts.'

‘Good for thee. Now,' Tory turned to Alma and Cara, ‘what art the two of thee pining about?'

‘I find Vortipor too forward, Majesty,' Cara sulked. ‘How doth one control a man?'

‘Try not leading him on?' Tory fluttered her eyelids at the girl, mimicking her manner of late. ‘Thou art rather forward thyself, Cara. He misconstrues thy affections as an open invitation to thy favours. Thee would do better to treat Vortipor as Katren dost Brockwell if thee wishes to win him for thy husband,' she warned.

‘But I want him to pursue me.'

‘And he shall, whether or not thee gives him any encouragement.'

Cara pouted, dissatisfied with such a boring instruction.

‘Listen to her, Cara,' Katren urged. ‘The Goddess knows best, believe me.'

‘We need to swap,' Alma softly stated her woes. ‘I do not think Sir Angus likes me at all.'

Tory was amused, knowing otherwise.

‘Majesty please,' Alma asked, ‘I like him very much. What should I do?'

By this time, Tory was beginning to feel like a marriage counsellor. She had decided to match all the single folk in male–female pairs, not in an attempt to play Cupid, but rather to give those not in a steady relationship a greater understanding and balance of Yin and Yang in their lives. ‘Thee should arise on the
morrow before dawn. Go sit on thy number on the sundial in the courtyard, and as thee bears witness to the dawn of a new day, I grant that the Goddess shall bring thee inspiration, Alma.'

The girl's eyes opened wide with intrigue. ‘Dost thou really think so, Majesty?'

‘Indeed, but thee must not be too impatient with Angus. He be known as a loner and shy of women, so thou shalt have to take a few pages from Cara's book to lure him out.'

All in the room fell silent with the sound of a knock at the door.

‘Enter,' Tory bade.

The door burst open and Brockwell came charging forth. He was holding a sheet of parchment in his hands, paying no mind to who was present. ‘I did it!' he announced, appearing rather pleased with himself. But as he looked up to see all the women he was startled back a few paces, and hid the parchment behind his back.

‘Did what?' Katren asked as she bounded playfully towards him.

The King had followed Brockwell into the room, and was staring sternly at Tory with his arms folded.

‘I have said naught of it,' Tory assured Calin and her husband.

The shock of seeing Katren so playful made Calin easy prey, and she succeeded in procuring his master work. ‘What be this, then?'

Calin, embarrassed, would have retrieved the letter, but the King quietly motioned him against it.

The smug grin slowly slipped from Katren's face and for a magical second she couldn't hide her true self. ‘Thee wrote this for me, Calin?' Katren gasped in shock.

‘Aye,' he was almost keen to admit, surprised by the effect it seemed to have had on her.

Calin took a step closer so Katren took a step away, her defences raised again. ‘I do not believe thou art capable of such feelings,' she coldly concluded. ‘The King hast been putting his sweet words to thy pen.'

‘Lady Katren, thou hast my word as a King that I did not string two words on that parchment together. In fact, Calin would not even let me read it.'

This proclamation left poor Katren dumbfounded; her image of Brockwell as an unfeeling womaniser was shattered forever. How could she be expected to defend herself till Samhain? ‘Then I do owe thee an apology, sir. Thy words art deeply moving.' A lump rose in her throat as she read his letter.

For the first time, Calin was overjoyed to have a woman so upset in his presence. Quite unable to believe that the truth had actually worked, he moved on to plan B. ‘If thou doth believe these words art my own and true, I seek to make a request.'

‘And what might that be, sir?' Katren asked.

Calin took another step closer, a little more confident, and this time Katren didn't back away from him. ‘The King hast suggested we might like to join him and the Queen for dinner and chess this evening?'

Tory looked at Maelgwn, amazed at his ingenuity. ‘Brilliant,' she mouthed in approval, and the King gave her the thumbs-up in return.

‘Why, I would love to,' Katren answered, taking Calin by the arm. ‘Very much.'

‘I shall take thy advice, lady,' Cara resolved, watching the love-struck knight lead Katren from the room.

‘Aye.' Alma could barely talk, she was so overcome by the sight.

‘And what advice might that be?' Maelgwn thought he'd scare them all out of his room.