Leaping Wolf, page 30
part #2 of Caledon Saga Series
‘Likely so, though it may take some time. Perhaps rather than sending for Rhianwyn, our candidates might travel down to Bryngarth and speak with her there?’
Predictably, Karadoc disagreed and twisted his face into a sneer.
‘Hold a Gorvicae moot at Bryngarth? What madness is this?’
Both Hywel and Boryn raised pacifying hands but it was the druid who answered first.
‘I do not say to hold the moot there; merely that the three of you speak to her there. If it transpires that she is willing to arbitrate then we would of course bring her back to Graigarw.’ He turned to face Gawan before anyone else could comment. ‘Naturally, you would be coming with us, First Man?’
Gawan hesitated for a moment. His duty was clear but it would mean an awkward conversation with Rylion. He had promised to speak to Tegwen and if he was sent away south who knew how long it might be before he came back? But then Tegwen is the lover of Taliesyn, perhaps she will go to Bryngarth with him? Part of him wanted to play things safe and simply name Duran the First Man here and now, then the responsibility could be his and Gawan would be free to go wherever Tegwen went.
But this plan had been his idea. If he was ever to wipe away his shame he had to accept his responsibilities as a father, but he had no right to avoid this responsibility either. He would have to risk Rylion’s anger for this and make peace with Tegwen when he could. He glanced briefly at Duran before facing the assembly. His brother’s new honour would have to wait.
‘Of course I shall go with you, father.’
Chapter 25. The Prisoner
Rhia’s feet thudded dully against the floorboards as she paced back and forth in frustration. The Caderyn’s chieftain was hardly heavily built and she wasn’t even wearing her shoes, but all the same the wood was creaking in protest as she walked the short distance across her room and back again. She hated the feeling of being stuck indoors, away from fresh air and daylight. Away from her people. She let out a long breath as she spun around for the hundredth time, ready to retrace her footsteps once again. The room was plain and mostly bare, with just a chest for clothes, a pallet bed, a table and a pair of chairs for her to glower at as she walked.
She found her mind wandering back to her life in Tamora, and not just because the rooms there had been bigger. She thought back to the day she’d seen an animal show at the arena, back before she’d known what such a spectacle would entail. Narbo Galerian, Gregor’s brother, had invited her and Marius to come and see a pair of wild boars he had purchased, and she had gone along in complete ignorance of what to expect. Her grasp of Vulgare at the time had been tenuous at best. What she’d seen there had shocked her but, surprisingly, not so much because of the fighting. Animals fought one another all the time and cruel though it was to force them to it, there was nothing intrinsically wrong about the violence. It was the fact that they’d first been caged up in tiny metal pens, barely large enough for the beasts to stand up in much less move. Before they fought they had been winched around on a crane for all the audience to see, clearly terrified and enraged by what was happening to them. It had saddened her to see something so unnatural as a wild animal being restrained in such a way, and poor linguist though she was she’d made it very clear to Marius that she would not go to a show like that again. She had found renewed sympathy for those beasts in the last few days.
Eventually the pacing worked off some of her fidgety energy and she sat down on the bed and sighed. Ever since Alraig had brought her to Bryngarth she’d been stuck at her father’s longhall, with little enough to do but eat, sleep and wander aimlessly about, and it was fast driving her insane. For something so dull she’d found it surprisingly tiring, and was forever alternating between bursts of frustrated activity and periods of lifeless lethargy. There was a loose thread at her left sleeve and she began picking at it absently, mainly to give her hands something to do, and at least she could eat up some time later on by fixing it.
Her mind wandered again as she sat there, thinking over the last few days. After Alraig had made her his prisoner she had insisted on carrying word to the legion about what was happening to her, and being kept updated on all that was happening to them. The headman had reluctantly stopped at Alfwyth for a day while she sent messages back and forth through Bran. At first Alraig had been concerned that she was calling her cohort to rescue her and had kept her under close watch as a result. It was a logical fear, since one word to the Dragon Legion, or to Gregor and his people, and a small army would descend on them and free her from his custody. But he needn’t have worried. She was ashamed to admit that the thought had crossed her mind once or twice, but the fact was that escaping was the worst thing she could do. Good Caderyn would likely die in the attempt and all it would prove was that might was right, and Rhia didn’t want to lead her people that way. A tear threatened to appear as she thought of Owain and Meg, already dead because of her. She had wept for them both many times already, though she’d taken care only to do so when alone. She had to stay strong before her captors, even if she was so damned weary of being strong.
No, escape of any kind was not an option. To keep herself from being tempted Rhia had agreed to the Caderyn cohort remaining in the south, along with most of her Gadarim warriors. They would be needed there if Asrec and his Breiryn tried to rise again, not that she thought he would. Asrec was not a bold man in the face of hard odds. He had already agreed to return all that had been taken from Three Willows in Caserach’s raid, and would be paying tribute to the Caderyn for a whole year’s turn. It would have been a response to feel pleased about, had he not also made a gesture to Caserach. For all his deeds he was still the closest thing the Dariniae had to a High Chieftain, and Asrec had offered him a Breiryn Gadarim as a bodyguard fit for his station on the way to Bryngarth. That almost certainly meant Broad Kellas, and though she hated to admit it, the thought of the giant coming here unnerved her.
She channelled her fear into anger and directed it at Caserach, the greedy fool responsible for all this. She hadn’t known Ierryn that well, beyond his reputation, but in the brief time they had been allies he had struck her as a brave and loyal man. Ruthless he might have been, but he was dedicated to his people and had supported the Caledon with utter conviction, sending all the warriors he could muster to fight the Gaians alongside them. Including Delyn... Rhia shut out that image with an effort and focused on Caserach again.
The Dariniae’s would-be leader was as much a prisoner as she was, though he would answer for his actions after she did. All were agreed that he had done great wrong in the killing of Ierryn and had stained his tribe’s honour in attacking the Caledon, but it had also been agreed that his own people had to be the ones to judge him. Caderyn headmen might have some way to travel but they were a lot closer than their Dariniae counterparts, and it had made sense for Rhia to face her judgement first. Rhia hoped and prayed that she got through this ordeal in one piece, if only to see that murdering bastard hurled into the sea.
She had hoped her anger at him would be able to sustain her but it soon dribbled away as she thought again on her own predicament. She found herself wishing that Reaghan was here, or Bael who had gone off to commune with him. The senior druid had been a comforting presence in her life for twenty years and she needed his wisdom now more than ever. Even Bael, for all his youth, would have been a welcome sight, since he seemed almost a reflection of his elder. But Reaghan had vanished shortly after Nantwyn and Bael had not been seen for days now. Instead the only druid she knew here was Gryg, who had tried to reassure her but just hadn’t been convincing. He wasn’t a father to the tribe the way Reaghan had always been. The only real comfort she’d had since getting here had been from her mother and sister, and even that had done little enough to ease her fears.
Alraig had initially said she was to be kept alone until her trial but he had eventually consented for her to see her family. Rhia was glad he had agreed before they’d arrived at the hillfort. Myrna could be fearsome when it came to her children, and Alraig would have had to gather men to restrain her had he tried to keep her from her daughter. Rhia almost smiled. Her mother was such a gentle woman but Carradan had said many times that she had a soul of iron beneath her smile.
She had come to see Rhia the moment they’d returned to Bryngarth, and had come again each day since, sometimes bringing Olla and Lucan with her. From what her mother had said, Rhia understood that there were voices both for and against her actions, but that of those chiefs who’d arrived here, most agreed with what Alraig had said. Her mother had once again advised her to consider marrying a man of the tribe, to show them all she was more Lurian than Gaian. Myrna had intended it as good advice of course but in reality it had just given Rhia something else to worry about. If the Caledon was to thrive then all three tribes had to trust one another, and if she married a fellow Caderyn it would seem that she was excluding the others. Equally she couldn’t marry a Gorvic or a Darin for fear of undermining her support among the Caderyn.
Rhia fell back onto the bed and let out another long breath. More than anything she wished that her father was here. He’d been chieftain of the Caderyn since before she was born and knew each headman of the tribe better than their own brothers. He’d been strong and kind and wise along with it, and had he been in this situation... she stopped herself and started wondering. What would he have done? Would he have sent for Gregor’s help in fighting Caserach and the Breiryn? Would he now marry into another tribe, or arrange for his children to do so? Or would he have risked defeat and death by fighting alone at Moon Ridge, or risked alienating his allies by pacifying the Caderyn? He is dead, a hard voice told her in her head, there is no way to know.
Tears threatened to wet her eyes and she reached for the thought that she always kept there for times when grief threatened her; she thought of Lucan. He was staying with his aunt at the moment but Olla brought him here most days, and the sight of him always brightened Rhia’s spirit. She had her worries for him of course, but mostly when she saw him she saw the source of her joy, and it gave her the strength she needed to push herself onwards through anything.
She closed her eyes and let thoughts of Lucan ease the fears away. She remembered the day he’d been born, and the memory was as sharp as if it had been only yesterday; the pain and the fear and then the sheer unbridled joy of holding her child in her arms for the first time. She remembered watching him play games with his cousins in the great houses of the Dessida clan, or riding his toy horse as he waved around his little sword. He wanted so much to be like his father.
Rhia sat up and brought herself back to the present before thoughts of Marius could spoil her new-found calm. The sudden movement made the candlelit room spin for a moment but it soon slowed and she took a deep breath. It would be alright. The chiefs would see that what she’d done had been necessary and things would go back to how they were. Perhaps once it was done she could let Merwyn take care of things for a little and go away with Lucan for a few days? He had never seen the sea, she might take him to Mobryn or somewhere? Bradan would likely feel odd about it but he was a good man and he loved children. He would welcome them. She sighed. Assuming that all goes well in these next few days.
For some reason the face of Gawan popped into her head, and she found herself wondering for the thousandth time what on earth had come over him that day. She knew he had lost good friends at Moon Ridge but all the same, it was beyond strange. He had disappeared from the camp that very night and she had to admit, she was concerned for him. Whatever madness that had driven him to kiss her might have led him into some other mischief somewhere else. He was hardly a man who avoided trouble and she hated to think what sort of mess he might have landed himself in.
Despite herself Rhia found that she was smiling. The Leaping Wolf had been her enemy far longer than he’d been her ally, and he had never hidden his animosity towards her, yet here she was fretting over him. In fairness, he might be a handy man to have around if things go badly here. Rhia snorted at that as she realised what a foolish thought it was. Gawan was undoubtedly a fine fighter, but in a situation like this she could guarantee that he would somehow make things worse.
*
Rhia realised she must have dropped off because when the knocks sounded from the door she was lying down on the bed again. She sat upright and called for whoever it was to enter, blinking her eyes a few times and stifling a yawn. The door creaked open and she saw Cerridwen standing nervously in the frame. Her young cousin had asked, and been permitted, to stay at the longhall to take care of Rhia’s needs. She was tall, or as tall as Rhia’s family generally got anyway, and had long hair the colour of horse chestnuts. The room beyond her was lit only by the candle she held, and Rhia noticed that the ones in her own room had burned down by almost a finger. She must have been asleep for some time.
She beckoned Cerri forward but the younger woman shook her head.
‘I’m sorry Rhia, I just wanted to make sure…’
She was interrupted by Alraig, who strode past her into the room.
‘That you were awake and decent for company.’ He nodded his head a fraction. ‘And so you are.’
Rhia felt her heart sink a little but she waved Cerri away with the best smile she could manage.
‘Thank you Cerri, I will come and help you cook later.’
For a moment it looked as if her cousin might object but then she nodded quietly and stepped away, though she left the door open. Alraig moved closer to Rhia and the candles played strange shadows on his face. He was dressed in his habitual dark clothing, with a legion belt around his waist and a legion dagger at his hip. The light made his brown hair look almost black, throwing the silver streaks in it into sharp relief. He stopped a pace or two from the bed and Rhia stood up to face him. He towered over her somewhat but then most people did, and Rhia had long ago stopped being intimidated by height. His eyes fixed onto hers.
‘We await only a few more chiefs and holy druids. Your trial should commence in two days’ time.’
Rhia cocked her head to one side. She was in no mood to chat with her captor.
‘And you have come here to gloat perhaps? A little soon for that, is it not?’
The lean man’s face remained blank.
‘I came here to give you fair warning that you must ready your arguments. I will not have it said that I denied you the chance to prepare yourself for your trial.’
Rhia raised an eyebrow and wanted desperately to say something sharp to him. He clearly thought himself the living embodiment of honour for the way he was conducting this, and the urge to slap him down was incredible. But Rhia controlled herself. Alraig was no fool, and if he was as wise and upright as he thought he was he might be willing to listen to some sense.
‘You must know what you are risking in this? Without me the Caledon will likely fall apart.’
Alraig’s mouth twitched at one corner but otherwise he showed no reaction.
‘You think most highly of your own importance, Rhianwyn.’
Rhia again resisted the urge to bite back. It was understanding, not ego, that had made her say what she had. The alliance was still young. And it was fragile.
‘I think this because it is probable, Alraig. And if the Caledon collapses we will all be that much weaker the next time we are threatened from without.’
Alraig raised an eyebrow.
‘So you admit that the Gaians are still our enemies?’
Rhia paused for a moment to take a breath. The answer wasn’t that simple.
‘They have the potential to be. Many, perhaps most of them, have no desire to do us harm provided that we cause them no trouble. But we would be foolish not to take care in case another Lepidus comes to power.’
She wanted to go on to say that other threats like the Breiryn and the Sarracs were also good reasons for unity, but she didn’t get the chance. Alraig responded instantly, straightening his back and putting his arms behind him.
‘They do not need another Lepidus to see us as weak creatures, as something beneath them.’ There was a restrained passion in his voice that Rhia hadn’t heard before, but he was keeping his features neutral. ‘And you brought a legion of them into our lands under arms, defying a law that you yourself had set.’
Rhia felt her patience thinning and half-snapped back her answer.
‘They were vital to secure victory against Caserach, you know that.’
Alraig might indeed have known that but it wasn’t softening his resolve, and the anger in his voice became even clearer.
‘And what happens when another problem arises and you decide the easiest way to solve it is by calling on your Gaian friends? What happens in a year, or two years, when you have become reliant upon them to maintain order in our lands?’ He took a small step forward and his eyes bored into hers. ‘It will be as if their damned governor never left!’
He practically hissed out the last words and Rhia found herself wanting to back away from him. She had never seen the quiet headman betray emotion like this and it was an unsettling sight to behold. She kept her nerve however and squared up to him, her voice firm.
‘We have all of us...’
But he interrupted.
‘No!’
It was probably the loudest she had ever heard him speak and it took him a few heartbeats to control himself. The tall man leaned forward, his voice lowering again, dropping down almost to a whisper.
‘My family has ruled Penafon for nine generations, did you know that?’
Rhia knew of course, but she simply nodded. Penafon had one of the longest lineages of chiefs of any settlement in Caderyn lands, and the family had always been proud of it. Since time immemorial they had run the silver mine in the mountains there, sending ingots up to Bryngarth to be forged into the Caderyn’s coins. Their headman continued to speak.
