Chapter 20

I almost fainted at the thought of my beloved Curyll making love to Morgaine. Did a demon possess her already? Or did she merely anticipate an event she planned and plotted for?

I couldn’t know. My weakness sent me back to my bed where I spent a sleepless night. I could not get comfortable in mind or body for many nights thereafter.

Venta Belgarum thrived on secrets. Political secrets, love secrets, religious secrets. I learned most of them over the next few months. By the Winter Solstice I knew which client kings prepared to rebel against Uther. I learned of marriage alliances before the bride and groom were told by their fathers. I knew who made a show of attending Christian mass and wearing a cross but held to older gods in private.

But no one knew who had led the ritual on South Hill that honored pain and degradation.

So I sent my senses sniffing for evidence of dark magic. I suspected that whoever had summoned premature darkness on Samhain might also have incited my attackers. Possibly the same person had lured the cancerous demon to attack King Uther as well.

But every time I tried to puzzle out that mystery, my thoughts skittered in a dozen directions and a headache laid me low for days. Light blinded me. The scent of food nauseated me. All but the faintest of sounds sent waves of pain crashing through my head.

I learned much over the course of the winter. Not enough.

The Vernal Equinox brought warm winds and an early thaw. Desire for revenge glowed like dying embers in my heart, ready to flare into pure flame with the tiniest amount of fuel. The shape of that revenge remained an unformed cloud without direction.

Rumors of Saxon incursions throughout the winter focused my need for vengeance. In my mind the image of my attacker became a blond giant with drooping mustaches, like the foreign invaders.

Curyll led a band of warriors to the Deeside estuary and routed the pirates who raided from there. I’d heard from Morgaine that he had returned to the main army camp but not how he fared.

I asked Da if Curyll’s troops had found the wild girl and helped her. He reported back that she had been seen, but remained elusive. The few survivors who crept back to the area left food and warm clothing for her, honoring her as they would the Goddess.

Images of the destroyed villages and the starving feral child haunted my dreams. In my fruitless quest for vengeance I became her during the long hours of sleep I craved. Saxon demons chased her/me endlessly, night after night.

I thought I was more than ready for the conversation that took place in Uther’s private sitting room one night shortly after the Equinox.

“The Saxons will raid early this season,” Da said to Uther. Ygraina and Leodegran shared a cup of wine with Da and Uther while I strummed the harp by the window. I was never far from Da’s side these days.

The gray-and-white cat sat beside me, adding her purr to the music I stroked from the harp strings. The wind smelled of warming earth and fresh green shoots. Time for planting and new life, not for death.

I listened closer to Da’s words, no longer lost in my music. This year the army would march to meet the Saxon host. Last year they had merely defended the region around Venta Belgarum against minor raids. With or without Uther riding in the lead, the army would engage the main force of the invaders this campaign season.

I intended to be with the army, searching for my attacker. On the surface I believed I would find him among the invaders. Deeper in my heart I knew the leader of the demon seekers was one of our own warriors. The city kept too many secrets. On the field of battle men had fewer places to hide their true thoughts and actions.

Curyll would ride to battle and into danger along with every other man camped outside the city.

Determinedly, I pushed my worries away. I had seen visions of his victories. I knew he would survive.

Where he gave his heart remained another secret I could not penetrate. Morgaine told me repeatedly that Curyll loved her. The few times I had seen him, he had welcomed my presence. I knew he cared for me. When and if that caring grew beyond childhood affection, I couldn’t tell.

“The Saxon raiders will sail from the North lands at first sign of thaw,” Uther said. He’d regained much of his arial. Only a lingering paleness and shortness of breath betrayed his former illness. But Da and I knew that his stamina failed. He appeared at communal meals only because he napped two or three times during the day. When tired, I smelled the sulfur and rot the disease had left behind in his body.

To keep his fractious client kings in docile attendance, Da had suggested to five of them, privately, that he looked to them to hold the union of kingdoms together after Uther’s death. I had listened to those conversations and followed the candidates afterward. Each king added warriors to his warband, drawing them away from weaker kings who would not or could not contend for the election to Ardh Rhi. Each of them courted highly placed church officials. One even rode to Caerlud to speak with the archbishop.

But Archbishop Dyfrig of Caerleon, the most powerful and influential churchman in Britain, remained in his diocese all winter.

Da also told Uther that his son lived and had gained almost enough experience to reveal his identity. Uther pressed The Merlin for details. I held my breath so that I wouldn’t miss a word.

Da remained enigmatic. The time had not come for the revelation. From the gleam in his eye I knew he planned something dramatic that would capture the imaginations of the people he needed to manipulate.

“We must be ready to meet the Saxons wherever they land,” Uther continued. “We must defeat them before they take refuge with their relatives on the Saxon Shore — Curse Vortigen for giving them pieces of our island as payment for mercenary service. My brother, God rest his soul,” he crossed himself and bowed his head in memory of Ambrosius Aurelianus, “and I couldn’t oust them when we finally slew Vortigen. They are stronger now.”

The Ardh Rhi jumped up and circled the room in long, determined strides. His rapid footsteps seemed to keep pace with his thoughts. The shadow of his former warrior vitality flickered around him. He’d been a good war leader in his day, a fitting Ardh Rhi and successor to his older brother Ambrosius. But now.... ?

“Have the warning beacons been maintained through the winter?” Uther asked, still pacing.

“We keep sentinels on hilltops at one mile intervals,” Leodegran reported. “We will know within hours if a dragon ship approaches.”

“Hours too late. We must meet them on the shore, before they have time to raid our people!” Some of Uther’s former fire shone through the fervor of his words. “Can you scry their first landing, Merlin?”

Da shrugged his shoulders in apology. “I glimpse pieces of the future, what the gods allow me to see. I know only that Saxons come, not where they will land.”

“Perhaps we can choose their landing place and force the first battle. A swift victory might keep them from raiding inland.” Uther clasped his hands behind his back, keeping his shoulders straight and head high. “I have reports that the Saxons are spreading out from the confines of the Saxon Shore. We must raze those villages and push the settlers back to their deeded lands. The raiders sailing from abroad will then seek to revenge their relatives — but at a battle site of our choosing. Leodegran, inform the lords that the army will march at dawn two days hence.”

“And who shall unite the lords and lead this battle, my husband?” Ygraina asked quietly, never looking up from her embroidery. Her skin looked like new parchment, devoid of all color.

“I am Ardh Rhi until I die or am defeated in battle,” Uther nearly shouted. “I shall lead a united Britain into battle.”

“You are not yet strong enough to sit a warhorse, Highness,” Da reminded him.

“I shall ride to battle in a horse-drawn litter if I must. But I shall lead our forces against the invaders.”

I plucked a sour twang from the harp. Ygraina’s embroidery hoop hit the floor. Cat squeaked a question. The men stared silently at each other, at the floor, anywhere but at Uther.

An Ardh Rhi leading a battle from anywhere but astride his horse or at least a chariot presented an ill omen.

“The Merlin must ride at my side, as healer and adviser. The bevy of priests will follow in their own time. I’ll double the dose of those tonics you spoon-feed me five times a day. By the time we actually engage in battle, I shall be strong enough to direct the troops from horseback.” Uther continued to pace, restless now and eager to be moving.

But his stride shortened and his steps grew slower. Already he tired.

My fingers plucked a livelier rhythm. I tried to imbue the music and the Ardh Rhi with a sense of hope. My own mood brightened and I could ignore my misgivings as long as I listened to the music.

Soon I would be journeying with Da again. Soon I would be away from the stifling air and smoky buildings of the city. Soon I would feel the Goddess beneath my feet and blend the rhythm of my life to Hers.

Cat mewed her agreement. She wanted to follow me on the hunt. More exciting than mere mice.

I suppressed a laugh and promised Cat I’d secrete her in my pack.

Soon. Two days to replenish all of the herbs Da and I would need to run a field hospital. Cat would help me find them. I wondered if there were enough cobwebs in the entire palace to harvest for bandages. Nothing stanched bleeding like a bandage laced with cobwebs. Who could I recruit to gather more throughout the city?

The court gowns Blasine had given me from her own wardrobe must be left behind — I’d never had the chance to lure Curyll away from Morgaine with their artificial beauty. I would need sturdy woolens, preferably tunics and leggings rather than cumbersome gowns. Would I walk or ride a horse? Da would ride beside the Ardh Rhi. I presumed I would be expected to stay close to him. But I had rarely ridden horses and then uncertainly. The huge beasts didn’t frighten me, we just didn’t fit. Perhaps the chirurgeons had a place for me with their wagons and medical equipment.

“What of Blasine, husband?” Ygraina retrieved her embroidery, still not looking at Uther. “You must be here to preside over her betrothal ceremony at Beltane. You still have not found a suitable husband for Morgaine either.”

Da stared at me, eyes clouded in thought.

“A young man of Ector’s is eager to wed Morgaine. I’ll listen to his suit tomorrow as well as any other offers. We will have handfastings and weddings for all who wish the night before we leave.” Uther dismissed the topic and returned to barking orders to Da and Leodegran.

That young man of Ector’s! He could only mean Curyll. My heart sank. The music stopped in my fingers and in my soul.

Uther’s other statements ran past me. I barely heard his next comment.

“I presume, Merlin, that now is the proper time to produce my son.”

Leodegran dropped his silver goblet. Red wine sprayed his brocaded robe. He took no notice, sitting in stunned silence; his hand curved as if he still held the cup. His eyes narrowed as he closed his gaping jaw with an audible click. Anger radiated from his stiff posture. Plots wove intricate lights in his eyes.

A dangerous man when crossed. I wanted to move away from him as quickly as possible.

“A moment, Highness.” Da bowed to Uther, requesting permission to leave the room.

“Summon the rest of my council while you fetch my son.” Uther waved his hand again in dismissal.

Da gestured to me to follow him. I settled the harp gently onto my seat in the safe custody of Cat, and slipped out the door behind him. No one seemed to notice my presence or absence now that Uther had found the motivation to do something specific about our enemies and truly name an heir.

Da said not a word to me until he closed the door to his private quarters. “We must talk, Wren.”

I didn’t state the obvious.

“You cannot accompany me on this journey.”

“Why not? We have always been together.” Except those four years in Avalon. I had learned much from The Morrigan. I learned more from my travels with Da.

“’Tis too dangerous. You would be the only woman in an army full of randy men. Need I remind you of what happened last Samhain when you stumbled in a... into that...”

A chill lodged in my belly and my throat.

“Must I stay in the Citadel with Queen Ygraina and her daughters?” I couldn’t go back to Avalon. With The Morrigan dead and the Ladies dispersed, no one remained there except the Christian hermit.

“No!” Da nearly jumped in his agitation. “This city is too dangerous for you alone. The Christians... Archbishop Dyfrig will return.... You cannot stay here, Wren.”

“Then I will return to Lady Glynnis. Surely we can find a suitable escort, Da. Someone you can trust who could ride posthaste to catch up with the army afterward.” Someone like Curyll, my traitorous mind added. I could seduce him along the way. Bind him close to me forever.

“Lady Glynnis has taken the cross. She no longer welcomes me. She will not welcome you.” He clutched the bulbous end of his torc. The scowl on his face told me he thought furiously, sorting and discarding options. “I need men I can trust to guard the king. Who can I spare to guard you and the power?”

“What?” What power needed guarding? And Uther? Uther had been ill, certainly. He’d need assistance on the journey. But guarding by other than his own warband?

A new idea tried to birth itself deep in my mind. A headache sprang to life behind my eyes. The thought got lost on the way to consciousness. Maybe it was an old memory; I couldn’t puzzle it out and concentrate on Da at the same time. Not with the renewed headache.

Strange, I’d never had headaches before I drove the cancerous demon out of Uther. Now, every time I thought about that arduous night, I was nearly blinded by pain.

“The only way I can protect you, Wren, is to find you a husband. A husband in a position to help you watch the sacred place.” He mumbled the last statement as if talking only to himself. I wasn’t certain I’d heard him right, so I concentrated on the important issue.

“I don’t want a husband.” I didn’t think I could bear anyone touching my body after Samhain. No one but Curyll who had kept his distance from me all winter. “My chosen path is to be a bard and healer, wandering through Britain, guarding all of the sacred places, as you do, Da. That is what you raised me to be, trained me to be. And I choose to remain as celibate as you.”

He blanched at my statement.

“No, Wren. Your destiny is different from mine. The Goddess chose you before your birth. We must follow the path She opens for you. I see clearly now that along that path is a husband to protect you when I cannot. I have had offers for your hand. In the morning I shall consider them with fresh insight. You will wed the evening before the army marches, as will many other young women in this city.”

“Who has offered for me? Whose offer was so demeaning you did not so much as whisper it to me until now?” I clenched my jaw tight lest I scream disobedience to my father and the Goddess.

“I delayed accepting any offer for you until you had healed from your ordeal. Lord Carradoc has asked for your hand. I did not consider him seriously as he is so much older than you. Leodegran asked on behalf of his son, a dissolute young man who would rather drink and gamble than take up his responsibilities as a warrior.”

“Leodegran’s son suffers from the Roman whore disease.” I’d pried the secret from his latest mistress. “Carradoc is indeed too old. His oldest daughter is older than I.” Nimuë, the flamboyant redhead who looked upon me as if I were dirt. She sought every opportunity to show me to disadvantage in the bower and among the court.

“I will never marry Lord Carradoc, Da.”

“You shall marry the man I choose to protect you, Wren.”

“Have the Christians subverted your faith in the Goddess, Da?” I asked, too angry with him to guard my tongue. “Have you forgotten that the Goddess gives every woman the right to choose her own husband and divorce him if he proves unsatisfactory?”

“We live in a time of change, Wren. My visions falter. My magic diminishes every time a follower of the Goddess accepts baptism. Soon there will be so few believers I won’t be able to work spells at all. You must marry now. Neither of us has a choice in this matter.”

“You taught me there are always choices.”

“We have been robbed of choice by the gods of change and chaos.”

You will have a husband, and children by Curyll, the Goddess had promised me. She hadn’t promised that Curyll would be my husband, only father my children.

I could see no pattern in my future. In that moment I believed the Goddess had deserted us both. Change and chaos had taken over our lives.