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Rhiann
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SOME PART OF RHIANN knew that Cadfael didn’t deserve her tears, but she shed them for him anyway. No man deserved to die that way, not even one with as little honor as her father. She couldn’t get the picture of him affixed to the wall above the fireplace out of her head. She seemed to be having no end of trouble with disturbing images, all piling one on top of the other.
With her hand in Dafydd’s, they wended their way down the long road from Caer Ddu. The black sky stretched above them with the same nothingness they’d seen on the way in.
Cade kept glancing up. “Where’s east, Taliesin?” he finally asked.
“We’ll find out when we reach the bottom of the mountain,” Taliesin said.
“As if that’s some kind of answer,” Cade said, under his breath.
“It was also like this during our journey to the castle,” Dafydd said. “Taliesin says that only those who know the way may find the proper path.”
“And he knew the way already,” Cade said, not as a question.
“Yes,” Rhiann said. “Taliesin—in some ancient time that he wouldn’t talk about—had something to do with the building of Castle Ddu. He set the wards.”
“Did he now?” Cade glanced at Taliesin.
As always, Taliesin’s long robe with its ragged hem trailed along the ground behind him. He held his head high, though, walking steadily ahead of the rest of the company. Two more twists around the mountain and they reached the grove of trees where’d they’d left the horses. No light came from the sky, and Rhiann wondered if they’d entered some nether world where there was no sun and never would be again. It had been night when they arrived, but surely the sun should rise soon.
“Cadfan!” Cade exclaimed at the sight of his horse tied to a tree just off the trail, waiting patiently for his master’s return. The horse nickered and Cade gently rubbed his nose. “I’m sorry I have no carrot, boy.”
“I do.” Rhun pulled one from his pack, along with a wrinkled apple, and tossed them both to Cade. Cadfan snuffed Cade’s palm and then gently lipped them off it.
“I vote we ride,” said Goronwy.
“That is acceptable,” Taliesin said.
Cade still held Caledfwlch in one hand, while his father’s sword was sheathed at his waist. He swung around with a helpless expression that said, what do I do now?
Rhun laughed. “Well you can’t wear two. You’ll probably slice your leg off. Even a sidhe such as you can’t re-grow limbs.” Rhun had already mounted his horse and now reached down to Cade. “Give me your father’s sword, Cade. When we get home the leather-maker can craft you an appropriate sheath for Caledfwlch, but it can use your father’s for now.
“It’s almost an embarrassment of riches.” Cade handed his father’s sword to Rhun and sheathed Caledfwlch in its place.
Rhiann had given Arddun to Siawn to ride so Dafydd pulled her onto his horse after him. She glanced over at Arddun to see how she was taking the change in riders, and saw Siawn staring at Cade, his face white.
“What did Rhun call you?” he said.
When Cade didn’t immediately reply, Dafydd said, “Sidhe. The goddess, Arianrhod, lured Lord Cadwaladr into a cave two years ago and changed him. He can kill a man with a touch of his hand, but he tries only to use his power on people he doesn’t like.”
“Dafydd,” Rhiann said, admonishing him.
“What?” he said. “Siawn’s got to know, doesn’t he?”
Cade studied Siawn. “That’s not quite how I would have told you, but I haven’t time to explain further. We must leave this place. Dare you to travel with me, knowing what I really am?”
“This changes everything,” Siawn said.
Taliesin snorted. “It changes nothing. Lord Cadwaladr’s the same as he was an hour ago. The only thing that has changed is your knowledge of him. He is the Pendragon. That’s all you need to remember.”
“Taliesin,” Cade said. “It’s not that simple and you know it.”
“It’s that simple to me,” Hywel said. “No point agonizing over what is done.”
“What you said in the cell,” Siawn said. “It was all a lie.”
“I told you the truth,” Cade said. “I believe in the Christ.”
“As do I,” said Dafydd and Hywel together.
“Well, I don’t,” Rhun said, “but I don’t care which gods a man follows, as long as he is loyal to Cade.”
“I believe in all the gods,” Taliesin said, brightly.
“You can’t stay here,” Rhun said to Siawn. “You have to come with us now. I’ll give you until we reach Llanllugan to work this out. You can choose then if you will ride with the Pendragon or be on your way.”
“Provided he keeps his mouth shut about what he’s seen,” Goronwy said.
“Maybe Lord Cadwaladr will take your life-force after all,” Dafydd said, unhelpfully.
Siawn didn’t answer, just stared down at Arddun’s mane. Cade turned from him and rode forward, assuming the rest would follow, which they did, even Siawn. Rhiann kept her eye on a point ahead where the archway of trees ended. As they grew closer to it, sunlight spilled into the shadows and Rhiann felt it pulling her forward, away from the darkness of the last hours.
Dafydd strained forward too; a quick glance at her companions showed that all of them could feel the pull. In unison, they urged their horses faster, pushing them. Then Cade pulled on Cadfan’s reins, slowing as he reached the limit of the forest, while the rest rode out from beneath the trees. Dafydd and Rhiann stopped a few yards from the edge of the forest to look back at Cade, and then turned the other way to gaze at the sun. It was setting. Again.
“How can the sun be going down?” Hywel was only a pace from Cade and put his hand out to stop him in case he had a thought to urge Cadfan out from under the trees. “It should be noon at the latest, not a full day gone already.”
“Time passes differently in the world of the sidhe,” Taliesin said. “I told you that before. I suspect it has been at least a day since we entered Castle Ddu, perhaps as many as three.”
“Remind me of this moment if I ever think to remember this adventure fondly,” Dafydd said. “Or think to visit Castle Ddu again.”
“I don’t know that the castle would ever allow us to return,” Taliesin said. “It is done with us, as, apparently, is Mabon. At least for now.”
Siawn spoke for the first time since his exchange with Cade. “He can rot in the tower of his castle for all eternity for all I care. Mabon and Teregad deserve each other.”
The companions stood together as the sun slowly fell behind the hills to the west. Dafydd gave Rhiann a hand down and she took another few steps forward so she could see behind them, up at Caer Ddu as it squatted on its mountain, its towers lit by the reddened light. She gazed at it, wondering that such an impressive castle could have been hidden from human eyes for so long. Then, even as she studied it, between one heartbeat and the next, it vanished. In its place stood a tree-covered peak, identical to all the others in this region of Wales.
“Taliesin!” Rhiann said. “The castle’s gone!”
While everyone else followed her pointing finger with their eyes, Taliesin sat nodding, one hand on the reins, his staff leaning against his shoulder. He had a half-smile on his lips.
Rhun looked at him curiously. “Do you see something we don’t?”
Taliesin grinned. “Always,” he said, and then relented. “I am Taliesin. My inheritance is not this staff, or the gold I carry at my waist. It is that.” Taliesin gestured towards the top of the mountain. “The ability to see when others don’t.” His eyes met Cade’s, and they nodded to each other.
The light faded, dusk falling abruptly on the hills as the sun went down behind the mountains to the west. With the rising of the darkness, Cade urged Cadfan out of the trees.
“We have some stories to tell each other, I think.” He looked down at Rhiann. “I wanted to ask you about my father’s sword. What made you bring it from Aberffraw?”
“I didn’t know that it was your father’s,” Rhiann said. “I was in a hurry when I went looking for a weapon for you. All the other swords in the armory were nothing special—no more than a metal blade, hilt, and crossguard. They hardly seemed appropriate for you. I had opened the chest to find you a belt. The sword lay underneath a ragged cloak. It was far more well-crafted than the others, and just lying there, unused and unwanted, so I took it.”
“Thank you for that,” Cade said. “Mabon wondered if it had called to me. I’m thinking it might have called to you. Perhaps you should wear it since I no longer need it.”
Dafydd still sat on his horse, just to Rhiann’s left. His eyes bright, he reached down and tugged Rhiann’s braid, which as usual was coming lose in wisps around her face. “Lady Rhiann is a valiant knight, my lord! If not for her, we would not have been able to protect the villagers.”
“Is this true, Rhiann?”
Rhiann nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Dafydd and I defended the villagers’ retreat. I killed ... many.” She looked down at her feet and flexed her bow hand, not wanting to remember, but unable to forget.
“I was there,” Taliesin said.
“And I counted the dead,” Rhun said.
“My lord—” Goronwy said.
Rhiann glanced at Goronwy who was looking at his brother with a very serious expression. Cade noted it too.
“Your decision,” Cade said. “I wasn’t with Dafydd and Rhiann, but I fought the Saxons and their demon allies at the ford, along with you and Hywel. We all know what they faced.”
“Well, I think it’s time.” Rhun dismounted. “For both our young lads.”
Cade smiled and waved a hand. “Get off those ponies, you two.” When neither Dafydd nor Hywel moved, he barked, “Dafydd! Hywel! Dismount!”
Hastily they scrambled off their horses. Cade dismounted too and walked forward towards Hywel. “Kneel.”
Hywel flushed as he stared up at Cade. Dafydd’s face, in contrast, was uncharacteristically white. Both boys-who-were-almost-men understood what this moment meant.
Taliesin recited, his arms spread wide:
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“BEFORE THE DOORS OF hell,
Lamps burned.
When we went with Cadwaladr,
A journey fraught with peril,
Of all who fought beside him
Only seven returned
From the Unseen Fortress.”
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“SOMEDAY I’M GOING TO catch you without a song to sing, Taliesin.” Then Cade shook his head. “On second thought, I’m not sure I look forward to that day.” He laid the flat of his sword on Hywel’s shoulder, while Goronwy mirrored his action in front of Dafydd, looking down at his brother.
“I would have your oath,” Goronwy said. “Are you man enough to give it?”
Dafydd stared up at him. “Yes, sir.”
“Do you swear to fear God, to obey His laws, to serve your lord, to protect the weak, and to be honorable, chivalrous, generous, and truthful in all things?” Goronwy said.
“I swear.” Dafydd’s voice cracked as it probably hadn’t for years, despite his effort to steady it.
“Dafydd ap Cynin,” Goronwy said. “I name you a knight.”
Cade spoke similar words to Hywel, and then in unison, he and Goronwy backhanded the boys across their faces with such force that they rocked backwards. Dafydd touched the corner of his lips with his finger, coming away with blood. Goronwy handed him his sword. “Rise, Sir Dafydd, knight of Cadwaladr.”
Dafydd and Hywel got to their feet. Rhiann found herself tearing up as the men embraced. Dafydd walked towards her.
“I’m a knight,” he said.
“I see that, Sir Dafydd,” Rhiann said. “I am honored to have witnessed it.”
Dafydd’s brow furrowed. “But what about you?” He swung around to speak to Cade. “What about Rhiann? She fought well too.”
“Oh no.” Rhiann held out a hand to stop his thoughts from progressing further. “I’m just fine as I am.”
“You’re sure?” Cade said. “We can keep it between us.” He gestured to the other men who were all gazing at Rhiann, smiles on their faces.
She was tempted, but ... “Do I have to be one of your knights to ride with you?”
Cade let out one of his forceful breaths. “No. You may ride with me, cariad, with or without a title.”
* * * * *
HE CALLED ME CARIAD. Rhiann checked Cade’s profile. Again they rode through the night, heading back up the Roman road to Bryn y Castell. By her choice, she continued to ride with Dafydd. That it seemed as if Cade was softening somewhat towards her made her all the more determined to respect his wish that she not get too close. Rhiann knew the truth now within herself, and it was enough for her that she could admit it. She couldn’t control what Cade did or thought; what she wouldn’t do was lie to herself. I’m in love with Cade.
Yes, he was not human. Yes, there were aspects of that fact that terrified her, and yet ... she loved him anyway, both despite who he was, and because of it. The bards sang of love—that staggering emotion that brought low gods and men alike, but she’d not felt it; not even seen it. She thought it was a legend, as far-fetched and fleeting as that of the sidhe.
I think I’m going out of my mind. Even as Rhiann told herself that, she knew it wasn’t true, because she’d never felt more rational in her life. Cade had said that he couldn’t be close to her. Rhiann found herself accepting that with the same aplomb as the notion that she loved him. At the same time, she was the only woman who traveled with him; the only woman who knew the truth of him; and she knew, even if he didn’t, that he was certainly worth waiting for. Rhiann loved him enough to give him the distance he needed—and the time he needed, to find a way to love her.
Surprisingly, Siawn also rode with the company. Rhiann hadn’t asked him why he’d remained with them, but it seemed to her that it was despite his better judgment. He was certainly keeping his distance from Cade, riding in the back of the company with Rhun and Goronwy, rather than mingling in the front with either Cade or Taliesin, who couldn’t have been making Siawn very comfortable either.
Rhiann rested her head against Dafydd’s back, as she once had against Cade’s. Dafydd patted her hands that were cinched around his waist. “Sir Dafydd will see you safe to Bryn y Castell,” he said.
Rhiann smiled at that, as no doubt Dafydd intended.
True to his word, they arrived without incident at Bryn y Castell in the early hours of the morning. “This is some kind of miracle, isn’t it?” Goronwy said as they rode under the gateway. “Completing a journey with Cade without something unexpected happening.”
“If you don’t count Castle Ddu in the first place,” Dafydd said.
“All right, I’ll grant you that,” Goronwy said.
Geraint and his men had arrived already, not surprising given that three days had passed while they were inside Caer Ddu. Thus, Rhun had a full complement of men-at-arms still housed within his walls and more soldiers camped outside its gates. Geraint came out of the keep to greet Cade, pulling on his cloak, having just woken and hastily dressed.
“My lords!” he said. “All is well?”
“For now,” Cade said. “We must sit in council before the day is out.”
Rhiann swung down from behind Dafydd, landing with a thud on the packed earth of the courtyard. She was delighted to be on her feet—and suddenly exhausted, despite her intermittent naps during the journey. She hadn’t slept properly since that day beside the Dulas, if that even counted, and the thought of a pallet or bed made her feel like weeping. Siawn dismounted too and Rhiann took Arddun’s reins, intending to lead her to the stable.
“Rhiann.” Dafydd stopped her. “Leave that to another.” He took the reins hand and tossed them to a stable boy who caught them, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
“A bath and sleep for you,” Dafydd said.
Dafydd guided her up the stairs and into the great hall, towards Bronwen who’d arisen as well and was waiting for her. The two women embraced. Dafydd grinned, but backed away, intending to return to his duties. Bronwen didn’t yet know that Dafydd was now a knight, but Rhiann thought anyone should be able to see that he was a different man from the one he’d been. It shone from every pore.
“I am so glad to see you alive and in one piece,” Bronwen said. “Geraint told me that you fought with the men!”
“I did,” Rhiann said. “If I’d known what it was going to be like, I don’t know that I would have gone.”
Bronwen shot her a skeptical look. “You would have. You were needed.”
Rhiann nodded, knowing that Bronwen was right. She couldn’t have stayed behind, and she had been needed.
Bronwen led Rhiann out of the hall and upstairs to an empty room, one that could only have been cleared of women moments before. Rhiann regretted the inconvenience she was causing, but not enough to keep her from sinking into the four-foot tub that three young men wheeled into the room and filled with warm water. When she finished bathing, Bronwen helped her into a cream nightgown, much like those she’d worn all her life in her father’s house, and between the sheets of a feather bed. Rhiann closed her eyes and let sleep take her.
* * * * *
CADE ESTABLISHED HIS council in the great hall of Bryn y Castell, with chairs set around the long, high table. Night had fallen yet again. Rhiann had awoken in time for dinner and wore a dress for the first time since she’d left her father’s house. She sat beside Dafydd at one side of the table, with Cade taking his place at the end. This wasn’t the usual custom for the lord with the highest status, who usually placed himself in the exact center, with his advisors on either side. That place Cade had left for Rhun, and Rhiann loved him for it.
Although diners normally lingered in the hall until well into the night, Cade sent them all away before the usual hour. The women of the court were confined to the solar for the rest of the evening, and the men, it appeared, would drink and dice in the stables, the gatehouse, or at the encampment outside the walls with the foot soldiers. Rhun hadn’t dismissed them to their homes in case he should need them again. Once they dispersed, it would be hard to convince them to return and many of them would be thinking of the spring planting which was imminent.
Cade himself closed the doors behind the last straggler, and then turned to the companions. They watched him, waiting expectantly for what he had to say.
“We are all equals here,” he said. “We face a foe unlike any other, and it isn’t right that any one of us chooses the path we will follow without the advice and consent of all the others.”
His companions didn’t reply, still looking at him, waiting for more. In addition to those who had traveled to Castle Ddu, Geraint had a seat at the table on Rhun’s right, along with Bedwyr, who had returned that day from Caer Dathyl. He sat beside Dafydd on Cade’s left.
But it was Taliesin, not Cade, who spoke next. “I think first we must hear from Bedwyr.”
Bedwyr nodded and stood. “As charged by Lord Cadwaladr, Gwyn and I followed the riders to Caer Dathyl. Because we knew where they were going, we felt safe in trailing far behind them. As it turned out, they didn’t deviate from the open road and arrived there in good order. But the fort no longer appears as it once did.”
Taliesin perked up at that. “Tell me.”
“Caer Dathyl is built on a massive plateau near the sea,” Bedwyr said. “While it always towered above the surrounding countryside, the walls have changed from wood to black stone.”
Rhun grunted. “Like Caer Ddu.”
Bedwyr glanced at him, a questioning expression on his face.
“I was at Caer Dathyl a little over a week ago,” Dafydd said. “Teregad couldn’t have built it anew in so short a time.”
“He could have—or rather, Mabon could have,” Taliesin said. “The gods are interfering in our world, and not to our benefit.”
“Caer Dathyl is an ancient seat of kings,” Geraint said. “Math ap Mathonwy ruled from there in the days before the Romans came. How is it that it has become a place of darkness?”
“Because Teregad leagues with Mabon,” Rhiann said. “If they are together at Caer Ddu, why not at Caer Dathyl?”
“Did you enter the castle?” Siawn said.
“We did,” Bedwyr said. “We rode to the main gate and asked permission to enter. We claimed to be vassals of King Owain of Rhos, nephew to Cadfael of Gwynedd.” Bedwyr gave Rhiann a nod in acknowledgement of her kinship.
“And what did you find?” Cade said.
“Half of an answer,” Bedwyr said. “None of the heirs of Iaen were present.”
“Because they were all imprisoned by Teregad,” Siawn said.
“I did not know this,” Bedwyr said, “and none of the villagers or members of the garrison knew where you had gone. In their place were ...” He paused, swallowed hard, and then finished, “men.”
He seemed at a loss for words so Dafydd helped him. “Men that were not quite right? Men that walked and talked but seemed to change shape in front of you?”
“Yes,” Bedwyr said, relief at not being disbelieved in his voice. “That’s it exactly.”
Dafydd turned to the rest of the companions. “I believe we know now why Teregad ordered his captain to capture me after I left Caer Dathyl. I’d lived there too long to be allowed to leave. He was afraid I had grown suspicious, either of his father’s death, or of his current activities, and that I would tell someone. Perhaps he even feared I was a spy in his midst.”
“And had you noticed anything?” Bedwyr said.
Dafydd shook his head. “I was a fool. Blind. Think of the demon I failed to recognize.” He looked over at Bedwyr again. “Did Teregad’s men not hinder your leaving?”
“I stayed a few hours, no more,” Bedwyr said. “Gwyn, however, chose to remain behind. He wanted to speak to Teregad when he returned. He felt it was his duty to stay to uncover the truth of what was happening at the fort.”
“He is my cousin,” Siawn said. “I’ve already lost a father, a brother—.” He choked on the words. He’d folded his hands in front of him and now Rhiann reached over and put her hand on top of his. They were very cold.
Cade set his chin. “I wish he had not stayed. I would never have allowed it, knowing what I know now.”
Bedwyr nodded. “I’m sorry, my lord. But when a patrol rode out of the fort in the early afternoon, I left with them. I was not followed.”
“At this stage, it wouldn’t matter if you had been,” Cade said. “Teregad and Mabon know now that I oppose them. The only question in their minds is what I intend to do—if I will choose to fight them openly or in secret. I pray they have not damaged Gwyn as they did Crawdawg in order to find that out.” He turned to Taliesin. “Do you have any tricks up your sleeve that you’d like to share?”
Taliesin shook his head. “Not this time,” he said, and then amended. “Not immediately.”
Cade sighed and sat back. “So now, we must discuss the demons.” An uncomfortable shiver ran around the room. “Myself included.”
“My lord!” Hywel said, protesting, but Cade raised his hand and forestalled him.
“When the truth is laid bare for all to see, it is possible to consider it from every angle,” he said. “Demons have been unleashed on our world. We all have seen them.”
“So we must ask who has released them,” Rhun said. “And from where.”
“And why,” Rhiann said.
“There is only one who can release them.” Cade settled more fully into his chair. “And that is Arawn, Lord of the Underworld, Mabon’s father.”
“Legend has it that at the entrance to his realm sits a black cauldron,” Taliesin said. “Pearls trim its rim, and Arawn binds his prisoners to it with a blue chain that no human can break. It is through the cauldron he summons the dead, and only by the Arawn’s actions that it can be closed.”
Dafydd raised his hand hesitantly.
“Go ahead,” Cade said.
“I thought the goddess Arianrhod, in her guise as the crone, Cerridwen, was the keeper of the cauldron,” Dafydd said. “That she brewed the wisdom of the world in it.”
Cade and Taliesin exchanged a look across the table, and then Taliesin answered. “If only that were still true. Arianrhod lost the cauldron to Arawn, just as he stole Mabon from her. Mabon and the cauldron have stayed with Arawn ever since.”
“And what is the wisdom of the world,” Cade said, “but death?”
Silence descended upon the companions, like a heavy mist on a meadow.
“Unfortunately,” Goronwy said, “this is all beginning to make a certain kind of sense.”
“Taliesin,” Rhiann said, “what might Arawn think of all this? Of Mabon’s actions?”
“I do not have his ear,” Taliesin said. “But I can guess. Certainly, he is responsible for unleashing the demons that now serve his son. It could be, however, that at first he was unaware of Mabon’s desire to rule in the mortal world.”
“So he might not know that Mabon killed my father at Caer Ddu?” Rhiann said.
“Perhaps not at the time,” Taliesin said. “As Cadfael now finds himself at Arawn’s table, the lord of the Underworld is surely no longer ignorant of it.”
“And also because Mabon and Teregad may have returned to Caer Dathyl?” said Siawn.
“Yes,” Taliesin said, with a sigh. “Yes. That is a real possibility.”
“Then if there are demons at Caer Dathyl, and the source of the them is the black cauldron,” Dafydd said, “then the black cauldron and Arawn ...” He stopped.
The companions sat silent. Rhiann was glad that Dafydd hadn’t finished his sentence. She didn’t want anyone to, but Taliesin finished it for him anyway. “Then the black cauldron and Arawn lie beneath Caer Dathyl. That is what I think, yes. That is what I fear.”
