Chapter Thirty-Four

 

They were able to recall the Tauron messenger bearing the grave and now incorrect news of Mithrais’ illness just in time. The healer was more reluctant to declare Mithrais cured so quickly. Not convinced his malady had been anything but physical, the healer insisted upon rest and broth. He gave strict instructions for Mithrais not to be disturbed. After one look at Telyn’s exhausted face, he ordered the same for her.

The orders were not unwelcome to either of them, although she crept back into his chamber. They slept in each other’s arms until sundown. They woke only long enough to consume the meal they were brought and slept again until morning.

Mithrais’ confinement lasted exactly one day, for the royal party prepared to set off for Belthil the following morning. He was adamant to attend and bid farewell to his brother. Telyn smiled at the perplexed healer and shrugged an apology when Mithrais strode past him, ignoring his clucking and head-shaking.

He took her hand as they entered the hall and led her forward, not to a seat, but in front of the dais where Belenus and his lady presided.

“What are we doing?” she murmured, although she had an idea.

“Paying our respects to our host,” he whispered back.

She wished he’d warned her of his intent. This would be the first time outside the Wood that he would formally proclaim her his lady. Although it warmed her to the core, she feared the reception would perhaps not be what he intended. “Do you wish me to bow or curtsy?” she asked.

He smiled at her with pride. “Be yourself, as always.”

Mithrais made an obeisance before the dais. Telyn bowed with him. “My lord,” he said, “my lady and I thank you and Lady Belenus for your hospitality and the excellent care of your healer.”

Lord Belenus mumbled something appropriate. His wife said in surprise, “We were not aware you had brought your lady with you, Lord Mithrais, else we would have received her appropriately. Is she still abed?”

Emrys coughed, and Telyn narrowed her eyes at him in warning as Mithrais clarified, “You have received her just now, Lady Belenus. Telyn Songmaker is my lifemate.”

Lady Belenus’ mouth opened and closed twice, looking more like a fish by the minute. She glanced at the King, who met her scandalized gaze with a raised eyebrow and no comment. Thankfully, Lady Belenus had more sense than the carp she resembled.

“Welcome, Lady Telyn,” she managed, albeit coolly. Her twin daughters were less polite. They whispered and stared at her Tauron green jerkin, leggings, and the honor marks visible on her wrist. Telyn found herself wondering how Deirdre had fared, or if the Lady Belenus ignored her too. Beside her, Mithrais’ brow creased in confusion. He had a great deal to learn about how they would be perceived at court, and she feared this chilly reception was a mild one.

 

* * * *

 

“Mithrais, will you walk with me a moment?” King Amorion beckoned him from across the courtyard, where the royal party gathered to depart for Belthil.

He excused himself from Telyn, Emrys, and Gilmarion’s company, where they had been saying another temporary farewell until Winter Court. His brother had surprised him after breakfast with a quick, hard embrace. It gave mute testimony to how concerned he had been while Mithrais lay in what they all had feared would be his deathbed.

The King handed the reins to a groom and joined him. They walked side by side in silence for a moment, until they were out of earshot of the rest of the group and continued to tread slowly in a wide circle.

“I detest long rides,” Amorion confessed. “I sometimes feel I’d rather do my traveling afoot, as the Tauron do, and I delay the inevitable backside to saddle as long as I can. It’s undoubtedly one of the reasons I haven’t been to Cerisild before this.”

“I understand, my lord King. I was forced to do all my traveling on horseback this spring while my leg healed. I soon remembered why I don’t ride often, although I had to reconcile myself to it.”

“And how does a soldier reconcile becoming a wizard?”

“With humility. I didn’t ask to become a Magian, nor did the others.”

“I’m still not certain if magic has a place in my council—not as I’ve seen it on this journey. I’ve never been so terrified as that night, and I have never before feared for my life that way. Fear breeds distrust among the High Lords, perhaps more than anything else. Even Keir is more unsettled than curious about it. I had asked you to give a full report on magic when you come to court. Perhaps...we are not yet ready for this.”

“We’re still learning what it means too. Amid the wonder, the shadowed side is beginning to make itself known. Telyn warned us it could be as much a burden as a blessing. What happened to Eirion—and to me—is something we weren’t prepared for.”

“To see magic destroy one of my men with only a touch...” Amorion’s mouth thinned. “I understand your reticence to establish it as a weapon. I believe the Magian Council should remain separate from my court. I won’t ask that you hide your powers from the High Lords, necessarily, only to be discreet. I will need time to take measure.”

“I understand.”

They walked in silence again for several steps before Amorion spoke. “This spring may see conflict on a scale we’ve not had since the end of the Great Wars. I fear Gilmarion’s new title may be held in the balance. As your King, I need to know, Mithrais. Will you swear allegiance to me? Will you serve me should I call you to war or to council? Answer honestly.”

“I know no other way to answer, my lord King. I never expected to inherit Cerisild. My allegiance has always been given to my father and to the Wood. I have sworn a blood oath to protect my people and those within our borders with my last breath, if necessary.”

“Are our purposes at odds then?”

“Not at odds. But I will always think of my oath first, and what’s best for the Wood. If the crown’s commands conflict with my people’s interests, I fear I could not in good faith swear my allegiance to you.”

He glanced at the King’s face and was surprised to find him wearing a broad grin.

“Did you know that Gwidion told me exactly the same, the first time I asked him this question?”

Mithrais chuckled. “No, I didn’t. But I have always tried to be as much like him as possible.”

“And you are, in many ways. You have earned my respect these last few days, Mithrais. I shall strive to earn yours this winter, so when you become Lord of Cerisild you can offer me your fealty with an undivided heart.”

“I am honored, my lord King. No offense is intended, but I pray the Fates will not assign me the title until many years from now.”

The wide circle brought them back to the rest of the party. They prepared now to leave with the additional guards they hired from Belenus’ garrison. In the small group he’d left, Telyn and his brother watched Emrys tell them some animated joke. Their laughter rang back from the inner walls of the courtyard.

“I now want to speak to you as an uncle.” Amorion’s eyes glinted. “I cannot promise the ladies at court will behave better than Lady Belenus did today. Is it your intent to formally recognize Telyn as your wife before you come to Belthil this winter?”

“Nothing would please me more, Uncle. It’s Telyn I still have to convince.”

“I’ve already told her the union has my blessing.” The King paused. “Under the traditional circumstances, you would need to ask Taliesin for her hand. But since he has divested himself of responsibility for her, I believe she can make her own decision.”

 

* * * *

 

Telyn and Mithrais started their own journey back to the Wood later in the day.

Mithrais appeased the healer’s wrath with a promise to ride in the wagon and not walk all the way back to the Wood. The healer gave strict instructions for frequent rest. He provided packets of herbs to reduce headache, and insisted Mithrais eat good meals. He turned up his nose at the field rations Telyn had with her. At his insistence, a servant went running for fresh bread, cheese, fruit, and sausages from the kitchen. Thus well provisioned, they bid farewell to their host and took to the road.

Outside Belenus’ village, they passed through seemingly endless fields of wheat and barley, rippled by the wind. An ocean of green and gold waves glistened in the sun as far as the eye could see. Mithrais gazed around him with appreciation. He’d missed this part of the journey, and truthfully, Telyn had too.

“I can see why you enjoy traveling, although I hope our future journeys together begin with less urgency. There are no sights such as this in the Wood. I’ve never seen so much sky or unforested land.”

“That’s perhaps the best part of it—the changing scenery. Traveling in the rain or the cold is much less pleasant. But this...” The day was glorious, with a clear and cloudless sky. She breathed in, and happiness filled her. “Days like this are meant for new journeys.”

They left Belenus’ wheat fields behind and reentered the grasslands. In the far distance, they could see the rise of the Cesperion Hills. Telyn’s heart leapt with a new, complex desire to return to a place where love and friendship waited, a place she could call her home. She missed Gwidion, and wondered how her tentative relationship with the stormy Lady of Cerisild would play out. She had work at the guild house to help Edrun learn to control his magic.

Her doubts about her place at Mithrais’ side had vanished. They had truly been one being for a short time, during that terrible encounter when she drew him in and protected him with her own body. She had called him back from the edge of darkness with the strength of her love.

And he had just spoken of her future travels and making journeys together. He’d once told her his life’s journey led to her. She knew now the roads would always lead back to him.

They traveled until dusk and made camp beside the road. A spring created a narrow stream and led to a pool of clear, cold water surrounded by rushes and cattails. They dipped pails for the mare and for themselves, washing the sweat and road grime from their skin while the day’s heat drained away with the setting sun.

They had no fear of bandits, not with the pulse of magic rising eagerly to Mithrais’ call for magelight, but they had little need for it. He soon let it fade as the crescent moon rose above the plain and stars filled the sky with white fire. No more fear rode the night. They spread blankets and sleepily watched the display unfold above them, bare feet intertwined. Telyn pointed to six bright stars in the northeast that formed a rough circle, low on the horizon. The ring Mithrais had given her glittered in the cool light of the moon.

“There’s a story behind those stars.”

“Tell me.”

“In the time before those who came across the sea, a warrior loved the daughter of the mountain. Her name was Baen. She lived atop the tallest mountain on the isle, slept on a bed of clouds each night, and each morning dressed in a gown of snowflakes. It was said she lived in a palace made of gold and silver and shone with the light of the moon and sun. It was also said the man whose love proved pure enough could climb the mountain and claim Baen for his bride. But the mountain was treacherous. Each time the warrior tried to reach her to profess his love, steep cliffs and sheets of ice sent him sliding back to the foot. But he didn’t give up. The mountain’s daughter had fallen in love with this brave and handsome warrior she watched from her lofty height. She wept each time he tumbled back to the foot of the mountain—so much that a great river rushed down the side of the mountain to the sea.

“Baen despaired he would ever reach her. The warrior doubted she would wait for him. Others as brave and handsome had tried to scale the mountain and made better progress. But she knew his heart was true, and he loved her for herself, not the riches. She fashioned a ring of silver and hung it upon the crescent moon, a promise she returned his love and would wait for him to reach her. Then she sent a dragon to lead him on secret paths through the heart of the mountain, tunnels that twisted and turned to emerge at the summit in front of her palace.

“The warrior became lost in the darkness near the end of the tunnels, and even the dragon could not find him. When it returned to its mistress with the sad news, she refused to believe him lost when they were so close to professing their love for each other. Baen sat at the mouth of the tunnels and sang songs of love one after the other, in the hope her voice would lead him out. At last, he emerged from the darkness and into the light, and their union was joyful. You can still hear her voice on the wind in the mountains, and the ring still hangs in the sky as a promise to all who wait for love that they will be found.”

He turned toward her and rose up on one elbow, pale eyes gleaming in the starlight. “Another story of darkness defeated by love.”

“I’d almost forgotten this one. Baen’s story is part of the first Bard’s Rune. There are other, much less happy versions where the ring hangs in the sky because she still waits for him to find her. I prefer this one.”

“So do I.” His forehead touched hers, voice husky with emotion. “You led me out of the darkness. I am yours, body and soul.”

She shivered with the ardency of his soft declaration, a truth deeper than words for her as well. She knew she belonged to him in equal measure. Telyn kissed him and the new blending of perceptions quickly blossomed into an ache for more that no longer filled her with confusion. She moved away and broke the kiss, not out of fear, but to stand and unlace her linen under tunic. He rose and mirrored her motions until at last they stood before each other clad only in starlight.

Mithrais held out his hand, palm forward, and she met it with her own. Barriers went down, fire leapt to meet fire. Telyn moved into his arms.

“I am yours,” she said. “And I am not afraid.”