Chapter 75: Where’s Gwenydd?

There had been a time in Herrwn’s youth when the very thought of venturing up the stairs to the women’s sleeping chambers would have set his heart racing. Now, as he followed Belodden up those stairs facing the prospect of doing something that seemed to him both profoundly wrong and absolutely necessary, each of his footsteps seemed to weigh more than the one before.

There was a heaviness in the tread of Belodden’s feet as well, making it sound as if she were wearing boots instead of sandals as she took him down the hallway to the second to the last of a dozen identical doors.

She opened the door and stood back. He started in but stopped before he finished crossing the threshold.

The twins were sitting on one of two beds with their heads bent over a parchment star chart, and Cyri was at a table by the window, sorting through a tray of dried herbs. All three looked up, appearing mildly surprised.

Thinking they must be in the wrong room, Herrwn would have apologized except that Belodden brushed past him and demanded, “What are you doing here? Where is Gwenydd?”

As the guardian of the entrance to the women’s quarters, Belodden wielded considerable authority over who was where on the priestesses’ side of the shrine, and Herrwn would have been hard-pressed not to cower if she had challenged him in that tone. The girls, however, seemed unconcerned and answered, “Studying our lessons,” in a single voice while they looked around the room and shrugged as if it were only at this moment that they’d noticed Gwenydd wasn’t there.

Incensed, Belodden sputtered, “Priestess Aolfe said … Priestess Rhonnon will be … You will tell me where …”

While Belodden was fuming, Herrwn saw the girls’ lips pinch into tight, resolute lines. Knowing that commanding them to answer would only guarantee their silence, he turned to the incensed sub-priestess, bowed, and thanked her for her assistance before going on to say, “You may return to your post reassured that I will carry out the charge Priestess Rhonnon has given me. I’m sure I can find my own way out after these priestesses-in-training and I have finished speaking together.”

He wasn’t at all sure that his authority as the shrine’s chief priest held sway in the inner sanctum of the women’s quarters, and he saw the same doubt in Belodden’s face. Still, he didn’t allow his look to waver, and after a long moment, the guardian gave a disgruntled humph and stalked out of the room.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the three girls exchange exultant smiles, which, needless to say, vanished and were replaced by sincere expressions of solemn innocence as he turned to look at them directly.

From his long experience as a teacher (much of it spent teaching Caelym), Herrwn knew that silent but intense regard was a better key to a delinquent’s mind than a raised voice and frustrated recriminations. Accordingly, he straightened up to his full height and stood looking from one upturned face to the next. The twins managed to remain steadfast, but Cyri shifted her gaze down, then looked back.

Herrwn cleared his throat, chose his next words with care, and addressed them all so as not to give their weak link away.

“Like Belodden, who is the honored guardian of the entrance to the women’s quarters, I am deeply concerned that Gwenydd, daughter of Gwennefor, is not where she is expected to be. There is undoubtedly a good reason for this, and undoubtedly you who are her closest cousins and confidants know what that reason is.”

“She broke her”—the twins started together—“necklace,” said one as the other said, “bracelet,” before finishing in unison, “and she needed to get it fixed.”

“I see. So then she has gone …”

“To the smith in the village,” Cyri whispered.

Careful to maintain his outward composure, Herrwn thanked the girls for their help and left the room. He closed the door behind him, hurried down the hall to the top of the stairs, and then stopped, wavering.

Should he go to Rhonnon and warn her that Gwenydd had run off and perhaps even now was fleeing with her lover? To do that would raise a hue and cry—and to what avail? Gwenydd was of age and a full-fledged priestess. None but Feywn had the authority to command her to do something against her will. And if it came to that and she openly refused Feywn’s command, then the chief priestess’s imposing the penalty of banishment would only accomplish what they most wanted to avoid.

No! He had promised Rhonnon that he would speak to Gwenydd, so that was what he would do—if it was not already too late.

His mind made up, he descended the stairs, nodded confidently to Belodden as he passed her on his way out the main entrance, and only broke into a run after he was well out of her sight.