Chapter 34: Tell Herrwn I’m Sorry

It was Olyrrwd, and he was holding Caelym by the hand.

Herrwn’s cry of relief caught in his throat.

Caelym’s clothes were in shreds. His hair was tangled with brambles. His hands, feet, and face were covered with scratches. His eyes, wide open and staring, seemed blind to what was around him. He was breathing in odd, gulping gasps and his free hand kept opening and closing, its fingers writhing so it seemed as though it were something separate from the rest of him.

Olyrrwd shook his head, cutting off Herrwn’s questions as he said, “We’re going to get into our nightshirt and have a drink and go to bed,” in a voice that was equally firm and matter-of-fact.

“Of course, I’ll …” Herrwn grappled with his blanket, trying to get free of it while Olyrrwd went on, “You’re home now, Caelie, and Herrwn will help you get ready for bed while I fix you a drink to help you sleep.”

Now on his feet, Herrwn took hold of Caelym’s hand and pressed it between his own to stop its twisting before guiding the boy into his bedchamber, stripping off his torn robes, and slipping a nightshirt over his head.

“You just drink this up.” Olyrrwd came in with a cup of something that smelled of chamomile and poppies, held it to Caelym’s lips, and eased it in, one small swallow after another.

“That’s a good lad. Now, just a little more and then you can lie down and rest while I talk to Herrwn for a bit.”

Somehow unaware that Herrwn was right next to him, Caelym whispered, “You’ll tell him I’m sorry I didn’t say my lesson like I was supposed to?”

“I’ll tell him.”

“He’s going to be angry with me, but I didn’t open the door—I didn’t! And he didn’t say I couldn’t go out the window.”

“He’s not angry with you. He’s just glad you’re back and you’re safe, and that’s all that matters!”

“But what about Rhedwyn? He’s dead. We buried him. They’re all dead, but we could only bury Rhedwyn.” Caelym went on as if still giving excuses for his delinquency, “There were too many of them. We couldn’t bury them all.”

“Of course you couldn’t, and Herrwn knows that and he’s not angry. He’s glad you are back. Now you just lie down and rest.”

“But what about burying the rest of them?”

“We’ll take care of that.”

“And you’ll tell Herrwn I’ll say my lesson in the morning?”

“I’ll tell him, but now you must lie down and rest.”

With a final “And you’ll tell him I didn’t go out the door?” Caelym lay down, drew his knees up, and covered his face with his hands.

“I’ll tell him.” Olyrrwd tucked a blanket around the boy’s quivering shoulders, got up, and gestured for Herrwn to follow him as he tiptoed out of the chamber, through the classroom, and into the hall.

As soon as they’d closed the door behind them, Herrwn gasped, “Rhedwyn is dead? All of his men are dead?”

“That’s what Labhruinn says.”

“But Labhruinn—”

“—is back. He brought Caelym with him.”

“If Rhedwyn and the rest are dead, how can Labhruinn be alive?”

“I don’t know. He’s in the main hall. Go ask him.”

Whatever his disciple’s other failings, Herrwn would have staked his own life on Labhruinn’s courage and loyalty. It was simply unbelievable that he would have abandoned his brother instead of fighting and dying at his side, unless—Herrwn grasped at the one redeeming possibility he could imagine—Rhedwyn had realized Caelym was there and had ordered Labhruinn to save the boy he’d never been able to acknowledge openly as his son.

Herrwn took up his staff and set out to find Labhruinn and get some answers, including why he had not come directly to the priests’ quarters upon his return, as he had not been dismissed from his discipleship and should by all rights have come to Herrwn before speaking to anyone else.

Resisting the impulse to rush, Herrwn consciously kept to a dignified walk, using the extra moments this gave him to quiet his mind, frame his questions for Labhruinn, and decide on the tone with which he would put them forward.

Later, he would ask Olyrrwd if his arriving at the courtyard sooner would have made a difference. When he did, Olyrrwd said, “No,” reminding him that the events that had taken place there had started while he was still asleep in his chair. While this was not entirely comforting, it was almost certainly accurate.