Leaping Wolf, page 33
part #2 of Caledon Saga Series
The Caderyn looked as if he wanted to say something sharp but then he stopped himself and simply turned away. His son followed him from the house without a word, the guard close on his heels. Caserach almost laughed out loud as he sauntered back across the room. He sank down onto his lumpy straw mattress and leaned his head back with a sigh. That arrogant fool had danced to his tune like a drunken slut, and now Rhianwyn’s fate would fall into his hands. Edryd’s master would want her dead, as would many of her own people, and the voice of the Dariniae would be the last stone on her tomb. The Gaian bitch would die. Almost without thinking he flicked the pebble that he still held in his hand, and felt a strong sense of satisfaction as it clattered into the cup.
Chapter 28. The Long Road South
The sky above was iron grey but as yet they’d had no rain on their ride through the lands of the Caderyn. The fields around them were still green despite the season, though the scattered trees were fast becoming red and golden brown. Gawan took a deep breath of clean air and tried to relax his mind. He’d been lost in thought for most of the journey and had barely spoken to his companions. Time and again he found himself thinking back to the day he had found Boryn. He had called for Hywel straight away of course, but the old chief had been beyond even a druid’s skill, and they had buried him the day before they left. Hywel had said that Boryn’s heart must have given out only that morning, but something in his look had concerned the First Man. Something that made him think Hywel had suspicions about Boryn’s death that the holy man was unwilling to share. Gawan frowned. He didn’t like to think about what that might mean.
Unsurprisingly, though the old man had been respected throughout the tribe, neither Karadoc nor Taliesyn had shed any tears over him. Indeed, Karadoc had tried to persuade the others that there was now no need to travel down to Bryngarth. Without Boryn to outnumber him Gawan had worried that he might get his way, but Taliesyn had been forceful in his arguments against him and Hywel had, reluctantly, weighed in on the younger man’s side. Gawan was beginning to become impatient with Graigarw’s druid. He continually refused to use his great knowledge and power, even when it would clearly benefit his people to do so. Gawan knew that druids didn’t like to become too involved in such things but all the same, if Hywel suspected something was amiss regarding Boryn’s death… the First Man shook his head. It was a struggle to believe that any Gorvic would stoop as low as poisoning, especially when the victim was a man like Boryn. The north breeds few men so base as that, and the Wildcat killed the last one.
Gawan shoved it from his thoughts for the time being and tried to lose himself in the ride. They had been on the road for days now and the trip had not been enjoyable. He had spoken occasionally with Anryn and his brother, and even with Tegwen, but he’d had little to share with his daughter and conversation had become sporadic and stilted. The other Gadarim had come along with them and had of course ridden close to their First Man, but they were not the jovial company they had been on the march to Moon Ridge, and he found he missed Gwydion’s good-natured mockery. But then, most of that happy banter had been between him and Tarwyn. It seems Gwydion lost his humour along with his friend. He and Pryder were riding close behind Gawan but they were not talking, and he didn’t look back at them.
The column of riders stretched a long way behind the Gadarim, though it wasn’t a war party like the last time they rode together. Taliesyn and Karadoc had brought a few hangers-on with them, and Hywel was accompanied by a pair of junior druids, but beyond that the column consisted only of their modest escort. Duran had decided to bring along fifty warriors of the Dragon Legion. They were not expecting any actual trouble, of course; they were there as a symbol of their chiefs’ status, since Karadoc especially would have kicked up a storm if they had not brought a suitable honour guard with them. Not that Taliesyn would have been too pleased in that event either, he would simply have been subtler in complaining about it. He might often seem the better choice of the two men, but Gawan was far from blind to the younger man’s faults. And of course, the fact that he’s humping your daughter does nothing to affect your opinion!
Gawan looked to his right to where Tegwen was chatting with Rylion. He and Anryn had been conversing with her quite happily on the ride, with only Gawan finding the whole thing awkward. He tried to take comfort that she at least no longer seemed hostile towards him, even if she was obviously uncomfortable sometimes. The road led them past a little copse of beech trees and he saw Rylion point a finger towards them.
‘Wait for it…’ he paused as they passed by them and then continued, ‘there; I am now the farthest south I have ever been.’
Tegwen tilted her head, her voice polite.
‘Yes?’
Rylion nodded, gesturing west of them.
‘Just down that way there’s a village where da took me trading once, though that was years ago now.’
Gawan worried that the subject of their father might come up and he was relieved that Anryn spoke next.
‘I don’t think I have ever come this far either. These Caderyn don’t appreciate good brew like we do.’
He smiled easily as he spoke and both Rylion and Tegwen smiled back.
‘Well it’s a long way further south than I know.’ She looked around. ‘I couldn’t even guess as to where I am.’
Gawan saw a chance to talk about something he understood and he nodded in their direction of travel.
‘This road we’re on now will take us to Nantwyn, we may even see the town before nightfall.’ He twisted in the saddle and pointed east, where the grey outline of distant mountains could just be seen beyond the open plain. ‘Over that way is the land of the Bearnicans and the northern part of the Canwyn Range.’
He found himself thinking of the Blackbirds who were probably somewhere that way too, heading back east towards Tamora. Tegwen turned to her father with a curious expression.
‘Is it true there are Carrocks living there?’
Gawan felt glad just to have her speak to him and he came dangerously close to smiling. He settled for a nod.
‘I’ve not seen one in many a long year but men have indeed seen them there. Not that they are easy to find; the Carrocks like to keep to themselves.’
That was putting it mildly of course. The dwarf-like mountain folk were very private and fiercely protective of their territory. Gawan had heard more than one story of Bearnicans taking the risk of digging for silver in their mountains, and no mine had ever lasted for long. The workers would begin to disappear in ones and twos, or be found dead in the mornings with fir shafts in their backs. The Gadarim found himself thinking of the haunted woods that grew close to the Canwyn range, and his mind wandered back to the old man and his prophecies. Over the last few days he had finally managed to dismiss them as nonsense and yet here he was now, heading back towards Rhianwyn. Could there have been something in what he’d said about their fates being connected?
Gawan shook the idea away before shameful thoughts of his old enemy could intrude on him. Try as he might they still came to him sometimes; images of her painted face or her gleaming skin, and always followed by a stabbing guilt deep in the Gorvic’s belly. Gawan ground his teeth together and told himself firmly that the old man had been nothing but a trickster bent on mischief. Anryn could say what he liked, the beings of the forest could not be trusted.
Tegwen was still looking towards the distant grey haze, barely visible it was so far away.
‘I think I should like to see a Carrock someday.’
Gawan wasn’t quite sure how to answer that but Rylion took over with some jest about their height. Tegwen laughed and said something back, and the two slipped into an easy conversation. Gawan found himself envying his brother for that and started brooding quietly on his many problems again. The moot was still weighing heavily on his mind, and his new view of Taliesyn wasn’t helping that. The man seemed a preferable candidate to Karadoc but his relationship with Tegwen was colouring Gawan’s view more than ever. They rarely rode together or conversed all that much, and for the most part seemed only to meet when the column stopped for the day. He didn’t like to think too much about what they doubtless did by night.
He furrowed his brow a little. In many ways Karadoc was an admirable man, of sorts. He was an honest warrior and had defended the coast for as long as Gawan could remember. A few summers past there had even been talk of naming him to the Gadarim, but an incident at First Nantwyn had spoiled that for him. Duran had seen him stab an unarmed Caderyn in the back, and though he’d sworn he thought him armed and merely trying to gain ground, the action had been enough for Duran to speak against his recommendation. Whatever the truth of it, he would still make a strong leader for the tribe in time of war, even if he had little patience for living in peace.
Gawan scolded himself for his thoughts. He was putting down Taliesyn purely because of his relationship with Tegwen. He would do right by the tribe by encouraging peace with their neighbours, and safety from the Gaians could only be secured by unity. More and more Gawan was seeing just how much they needed the Wildcat, even if the thought of seeing her was unnerving. He ground his teeth and dragged his thoughts away from her. Taliesyn would be a good choice and with Boryn gone he would give him his support. Though if I help to make him chieftain I’ll make the bastard marry my girl! Until he handed the honour to Duran he was still the First Man of the tribe, and Taliesyn would know the folly of alienating him. It might be pushing his chances to try to force him into marriage but if he was ever to be a father to his girl then the least he could do was to try his damnedest.
He turned back to face at his daughter again, smiling and laughing with her uncle, and looked forward to when all of this was over. Once a chieftain was chosen and the Caledon secure, and Duran was First Man of the Gorvicae, Gawan son of Dearg would retire himself to a quiet life. He had a family again for the first time in more than twenty winters, it was time to settle down and embrace it.
*
They were in sight of Nantwyn when the news came. Gawan recognised the rider as Elfed, one of the Caderyn’s older Gadarim, who he recalled had been left in charge at the eastern hillfort. He was a man of middling size with long, light-brown hair, and the battlemarks on his arms were thick and complex beneath his bracelets. Gawan had noted before that though they ran up only one side of his neck, the sheer amount of them on his limbs, coupled with the various heavy bracelets, spoke of a man who’d no doubt make a formidable opponent. He rode his pony up to the head of the column and nodded his head to Gawan and the chiefs.
‘Greetings comrades. We saw you from the hill; is something amiss?’
His voice was calm but his face serious, and Gawan supposed he had every good reason to be. There were still Panthers unaccounted for that might somehow have regrouped and even discounting that, the sight of armed warriors approaching your territory was always a cause for concern. After all, the Gorvicae had been his enemies for far longer than they’d been his friends. Still his manner was polite and confident and Taliesyn tried to dispel any suspicions.
‘We are on our way to Bryngarth with our honour guard.’ He gestured behind him to Duran’s men. ‘We are seeking...’
Karadoc cut him off, his voice hard.
‘We need to speak to your chieftain. That is all you need know.’
Part of Gawan felt he ought to apologise for Karadoc’s attitude but then he could hardly be blamed for wanting their business kept private. The other Gorvicae Gadarim urged their horses closer and Elfed nodded to them before he answered. He frowned at Karadoc but didn’t comment on his rudeness.
‘That may not be so simple as you think. Rhianwyn is to stand trial before the headmen in a few days.’
He sounded somewhat grieved, and Gawan answered before his chiefs could.
‘We had heard something of that kind. I had thought it would be taken care of by the time we reached Bryngarth?’
Elfed’s face became graver still.
‘Alraig and several others are convinced that she has betrayed the tribe, and Alraig is greatly respected by the other headmen. They will listen to him.’ He sighed. ‘I fear she will lose her chair, and likely her liberty too.’
He left the rest unsaid. If the headmen decided she was truly a traitor to her people, chances were good it would cost Rhianwyn her life. Karadoc didn’t seem particularly disturbed but Taliesyn’s eyebrows went up.
‘You think so many will speak against her at her trial?’
Gawan added his own voice before Elfed could answer, a hint of anger in it.
‘Surely her chiefs owe her their thanks for all she has done?’
The older Gadarim shook his head a little and sighed again.
‘Many of them would agree with you, indeed most of the tribe would agree with you, but those who would speak most loudly for her will not be present, and Merwyn may be a good man but he is not the talker that Alraig is. Without Reaghan or Bael to oppose him he will sway many of them.’
Gwydion chipped in, sounding confused.
‘What of Owain? He is your First Man and would surely support Rhianwyn?’
Elfed shook his head again.
‘Did you not hear? Owain is dead.’
Both Gwydion and Gawan spoke at the same time.
‘What?’
‘How?’
Taliesyn waved a hand at them and spoke more evenly.
‘Boryn told me your First Man had been injured when Rhianwyn was taken by Alraig, but he did not say he’d been killed.’
Elfed shrugged his shoulders and his bracelets clanked together.
‘He must not have known, but Owain died that very night and with all that is happening, no new First Man has been selected to take his place.’
The Gorvicae Gadarim placed their hands on their hearts and a beat later the chiefs copied the gesture.
‘May he cross the bridge unharmed.’
Elfed nodded.
‘May he cross unharmed.’
Gawan frowned in the moment of silence that followed. He had liked Owain, as much as he had liked any Caderyn at any rate, but more than that he was concerned that no new First Man had been named. Unlike the complex moots required for the naming of chieftains, the First Man of a tribe was simply chosen by his brother Gadarim, with the chieftain consulted only as a courtesy. Clearly the Caderyn thought they had to wait until this trial was done before they could name a new leader for their warriors, but surely if any time was the right time to make an exception to tradition, it was now? Elfed seemed to read his thoughts and he subtly raised an eyebrow, as though he privately agreed but knew there was little either of them could do. Gawan was a Gorvic and Elfed’s duty was at Nantwyn; what happened at Bryngarth would have to happen without him.
Gawan found his heart starting to beat faster and he took a slow breath to calm it down. With so few to speak for her Rhianwyn could be in real danger over this, and Gwydion spoke his thoughts for him.
‘Her guilt in bringing Gaian soldiers into your lands is undeniable, even if she did it with good cause.’
Karadoc snorted.
‘Good cause indeed.’ The looks that greeted this remark ranged from disapproving to downright hostile but the big man shrugged them off. ‘We might as well turn back now if the woman is doomed.’
Gawan strongly suspected that he’d gladly have called her something far worse in private, but with Elfed there as well as several others who would object, it seemed he was willing to convey at least a pretence of courtesy. Taliesyn turned to face him.
‘We have come this far, and the situation may yet be resolvable.’
Karadoc gave him a scornful look but fortunately Hywel agreed with the younger man.
‘That it may. A few words from us on the matter may help balance out Alraig’s accusations. It is certainly worth trying.’
Karadoc stopped just shy of actually arguing with the druid.
‘If we are permitted a voice in this then what is to stop Caserach from demanding the same? Will he not counter all that you two might try to say?’
Besides making it clear that he would have nothing good to say about Rhianwyn, the point he made about Caserach was concerning. He was after all still Ierryn’s nephew, and if Karadoc had reasoned it out like that then no doubt so had he. Hywel said something back to the headman but Gawan only half-heard him. He was thinking hard.
The Gorvicae needed the Wildcat just as much as the Caderyn did, and if she died it would mean chaos for the both of them. But more than that, the thought of Rhianwyn being harmed made him feel sick to his stomach. It was a strange feeling, and it elicited a fresh jolt of guilt from his gut, but it was undeniable. More than any good she might do for either of their tribes Gawan knew one thing for certain; he could not allow her to die. If all went smoothly and Taliesyn could sway her judges then all would be well. If not, they would need another plan.
His thoughts began to race as Karadoc continued to protest about their mission, with Hywel and Taliesyn trying to reason with him. Gawan hated to think it but if all went ill then the only safe place for her would be Tamora. With some warriors and a little help from the gods he could get her out of Bryngarth by force and send her and Lucan back to the Gaians’ city. It was madness, and it would destroy his own reputation of course, but then his honour was stained dark enough already, and at least he would know he was doing the right thing by saving them.
But what will Tegwen think of it? He grimaced and tried to think positively. Taliesyn would probably understand and he could maybe talk to her. Or maybe not. It pained him to think of losing what little relationship he had gained with her but his own hopes had to come second to saving Rhianwyn and her boy. He set his jaw and focused on the practicalities. He had Duran and fifty warriors of the Dragon Legion who would be loyal to him, and perhaps even loyal to her, but what would their fifty be against whatever warriors Alraig could gather? Besides, he would like this to be as bloodless as possible and a fight like that between Caderyn and Gorvicae could be as great a disaster for the tribes as Rhianwyn’s death. He scratched at his beard. There had to be a way, some way to get her out of there if it all went wrong without sparking another war.
