Leaping Wolf, page 37
part #2 of Caledon Saga Series
He turned to Derrio and said something to him that the junior officer didn’t translate. Instead he strode to the door-flap and called out something to the soldiers outside. Galerian kept looking forwards and when the tribune came back he spoke through him again.
‘I shall give orders to strike camp and head back west.’
Gawan felt a tiny jolt in his stomach and wasn’t sure exactly how to respond, but he nodded respectfully to the other man.
‘My thanks.’
Tegwen was still looking uncertain beside him and Gawan hoped she would understand his actions. Before he could say anything to her the Gaian general was rising from his seat, and Gawan rose awkwardly as well. His knee felt better than it had done but his head was still feeling heavy, and for a moment he thought he might fall. But then he felt Tegwen’s hand on his arm and he leaned into her a little to steady himself. That gesture, more than anything she might have said, gave him a glimmer of hope. Galerian took a sip of his wine before speaking again.
‘I shall make sure your mounts are made ready; you had best go on ahead of us, I think.’
Gawan nodded his agreement and, with Tegwen’s help, began hobbling towards the canvas doorway. He had almost reached it when Galerian spoke to him directly for the first time, his Lurian rough but surprisingly understandable.
‘Threaten me again, Gawan son of Dearg, and you will regret it.’
His voice was flat and cold, and far more unsettling than it would have been had he shouted. Gawan met his eyes for the last time and dipped his head in a shallow bow of acknowledgement before turning and leaving the shelter. The two Gorvicae stepped out into the afternoon sun, and Gawan wondered if he had just taken the first steps towards fixing this mess, or if he’d just made the situation that much worse.
Chapter 31. Visitors
For the first time in days Rhia actually felt at ease, and even managed a short laugh as her mother told her story. She noted, as she often had, how Myrna still looked so much younger than most women of her age, despite the smattering of silver in her black hair. She gestured with her steaming cup as she told the tale, and the smell of rosemary leaf was heavy in the air. Rhia waited for her to take another sip then leaned forward in her seat.
‘But what did you say?’
The older woman shrugged.
‘What else could I say but yes? The man had just swum the White Rush for Marna’s sake, and only days before midwinter too.’
She shook her head with a rueful little smile and Rhia smiled back at her. She could well believe that her father had been fool enough to do something so daring. Wise leader though he was there had always been a feeling of youth and vitality about Carradan, and the notion of him risking his life to impress a pretty girl fitted perfectly with her idea of his character. A little jolt of grief struck her as she remembered how much she missed him but she put it to the back of her mind and tried to enjoy the story about him.
‘But he must have almost killed himself, diving into the river at that time of year?’
Myrna smiled at her daughter.
‘His main objection seemed to be how much the cold had shrunk his manhood.’ The older woman winked. ‘Of course, once we got him warmed up again...’
Rhia half-choked on her drink and couldn’t help but dribble a little as she spoke, her voice mock-frantic.
‘I don’t want to know!’
They both smiled quietly at that for a moment, remembering how Myrna and Carradan had liked to tease their daughter by talking of such things. The memory made Rhia think back to her first wedding, when she had kissed palms with her dear Bevan, and it was an effort to hold back a tear as his face appeared in her mind. She shook it off quickly enough but Myrna saw her pain.
‘You have suffered so much, dear.’
The older woman placed a hand on her daughter’s knee and Rhia put her own hand on top of it. She didn’t really know what she could say in response to that but her mother spared her the trouble, her voice soft and comforting.
‘It is of little solace I know, but I am so proud of the woman you have become, in spite of all.’
Once again Rhia felt herself lost for words and just nodded her head quietly. They sat in silence for a while and sipped at their leaf until Rhia brought up the matter she had been putting off talking about.
‘Mother, should it go badly for me in this trial...’
Myrna cut across her, slashing her hand dismissively as she spoke.
‘You need not fear, my child. All the Caderyn have great love for you, I have seen it.’
Rhia frowned.
‘Alraig does not seem to share their view.’
Her mother tutted.
‘He is a hard and brittle man but he is not the whole tribe. Have faith in your people. They have faith in you.’
Rhia wondered for a moment if they were misplaced in that faith, remembering how she’d ignored the dire warnings of the man in Glyscoed all those years ago, and how she’d once allowed herself to be seduced by the easy life of a Gaian patrician. Her judgement might have grown a little better in the meantime but all the same, she’d made some damned foolish mistakes. She swallowed.
‘I do have faith in them, but I would be doing wrong by Lucan if I didn’t make plans for him just in case.’
Myrna clearly wanted to argue back with some more words of encouragement, but she stopped herself and simply nodded her head.
‘Of course. What would you have me do?’
Rhia had thought this through a dozen times and she had her answer ready.
‘If the family is not drawn into all this then take him to Olla at Penafon. He and Siriol love each other and it might be wise for you to go there with them.’
The older woman nodded again. Penafon might be Alraig’s territory but Olla was married to his only nephew and, provided that the family were not to be punished for her actions, the headman would almost certainly allow them to live there in peace.
‘And if we are drawn into it?’
Rhia frowned. There was always a chance of her actions resulting in the whole family facing banishment, though she hoped and prayed it would not come to that. Her first choice in that event would have been to send Lucan to Junia in Tamora. She would take good care of her grandson and he had friends of his own age in the city. He might even welcome a return to Gaian life. But getting him there would be a challenge, especially if Alraig decided to make things difficult for them. After that she had considered sending him to Bradan on the coast. It would be strange for him but Bevan’s father was as fine a man as his son had been, and he would take care of Lucan like he was his own child. But even that might prove impossible if the Caderyn chiefs chose to be harsh.
Her final option had come as something of a shock even to her, but at least it would guarantee her son’s safety if she... well, Rhia didn’t want to think about that ‘if’. She had faced death before, she’d even considered taking her own life in the past, but dying in disgrace at the hands of her own people, and leaving little Lucan without a mother, was enough to make her hands shake and her stomach squirm with dread. Her mother held her hand tighter and Rhia pulled herself out of her fear.
‘If you are cast out of our lands then get yourselves to Graigarw. Find Gawan son of Dearg and he will take care of you.’
Myrna’s eyebrows went up and Rhia could hardly blame her for it. The idea had only come to her the night before and try though she might she couldn’t find a better plan. He might not be a friend exactly, she didn’t really know what he was, but Gawan was a man she knew she could rely on to do what he felt was right. If Alraig and the chiefs made it impossible to get him to Tamora, then Lucan would be safest with Rhia’s fellow Gadarim. Myrna bit back whatever comment had first come to her mind and patted her daughter’s hand.
‘As you say, so long as we are all of us kept together.’
Rhia felt glad and she nodded in agreement. Her family, once so large, had grown much smaller over the last few years and they would need one another more than ever were they cast out of the tribe. She marvelled sometimes at how her mother had coped with it all. Even without the dreadful loss of her husband, of the two sons and three daughters that Myrna had raised only Rhia and Olla remained. Yet Myrna had stayed strong enough to be a rock for her children still, shedding tears but never falling into despair. Rhia envied her for that. She looked at the unassuming old woman and felt proud to know that this was her mother. What I would not give for half of her strength.
The older woman kept up her smile as she went on.
‘The boy has been pining for you, you know. When he’s not running riot with his cousin that is.’
Rhia frowned for a moment.
‘He doesn’t know about...’
But Myrna shook her head.
‘No, no. He knows that you have chief-like things to do and they are keeping you here for now. He misses you, but so long as he has Siriol to cause mischief with he is happy enough. Both Olwyn and I together are struggling to keep control of them.’
Rhia managed a small smile. Lucan was never truly naughty but he could be a handful sometimes, not that Myrna was really complaining. She and Olla both loved Lucan and would be glad that he had made friends among his own people. Rhia took some comfort in thoughts of her son, and looked forward to Olla bringing him along to visit. She sat quietly for a while sipping leaf with her mother, and found her resolve strengthening as she drank. She would come through this for him, there was no other way. All would be well... all would be well.
*
Rhia leaned back in her creaking chair and sighed with something close to contentment. Olla had brought along not only Lucan but also a steaming pot of her excellent chicken stew, and both mother and son had found the meal delicious, but filling. There was still half a loaf of bread left over on the table but Rhia couldn’t bring herself to finish it. She was happily full, and had just spent a pleasing hour doting on her boy. She’d been a little sad when Olla had returned to take him home but he would visit again tomorrow and that was enough to give her some hope. Lucan had resisted leaving her at first, his devotion fairly melting Rhia’s heart, but he’d been tired from a day of chasing dragons with his cousin and Olla had worn him down before too long.
Rhia reached up with an effort and took her cup of milk from the table. It was still quite cool and she sipped at it quietly, her eyes on the fire crackling in the little hearth. The flickering light caught on the bright guard of Silverbite, leaning sheathed against the wall beside it. Rhia’s mind wandered back to that day at Broken Stream when she had taken the weapon from Sedryn, the son of Baercban. Everything had been so much simpler back then; the Gorvicae had raided them and the Caderyn had beaten them back. Their enemies had accepted their defeat and they had all gone home again. Warriors had died or been wounded of course, and she remembered all too clearly how much she’d hated her enemy at the time, but at least it had been something that they all understood. Ever since the Gaians came the world had become so much more complicated. Either that or it was always so, and only now are you old enough to understand that.
She might have dwelt on that thought for a while as she stared into the flames but a knock on the door caused her to look up, and she called out for whoever it was to come in. Cerri opened the door and bowed her head in greeting.
‘I’m sorry to interrupt Rhia, but he said it couldn’t wait until morning.’
Rhia wondered what new problems were about to face her this time but she kept her face blank and waved a hand at her cousin.
‘It’s alright Cerri, let him in.’
She nodded again and stepped aside to let a young man enter the room. He seemed to be around Rhia’s own age, and it took only a glance for her to realise he must be the son of Alraig. Besides his hair being fully brown he was almost a copy of the man, though his eyes were nowhere near as hard as his stern-faced father’s were. Rhia tried to place his name, she was sure she must have heard it at some point, but he saved her the trouble by introducing himself.
‘Hello. My name is Tydfyl, I am...’
Rhia finished the sentence for him.
‘Alraig’s son, yes I know. Did he send you?’
She spoke more abruptly than she normally would have but then her quiet evening had just been interrupted by an enemy. The young man looked vaguely apologetic and shook his head quickly.
‘I told your cousin that he had, but no. I am here on my own account.’
He paused awkwardly and Rhia felt her temper fraying even more. It was true that she had nothing but time in her captivity but all the same, she had been enjoying a rare moment of relaxation.
‘And why are you here on your own account, Tydfyl?’
The young man shuffled his feet for a moment. He might have had Alraig’s face but he had none of the headman’s composure.
‘Well you see... I was thinking that perhaps... for the good of the tribe and... well...’ he blurted out the last words in a rush. ‘Would you marry me?’
It took Rhia a couple of heartbeats to fully take that in and when she did she couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter.
‘Has anyone ever told you that your seduction method needs some work?’
The young man dropped his eyes and fidgeted with embarrassment. Even in the firelight Rhia could see his face reddening and she did her best to hold back her amusement. But it was ridiculous! The man’s father would happily see her dead or banished from her lands, and now his son was asking her to kiss palms with him? What kind of fool was he? Tydfyl cleared his throat, straightened his back, and tried again.
‘It would be for your own sake. You will likely lose in the trial to come but if you marry me I am sure I can persuade Father to be lenient with you. It would show him, and all of them, how much you value your own people.’
Given what the man himself had recently told her, Rhia was far less confident of that than Tydfyl seemed to be.
‘Alraig thinks I have betrayed our people. I doubt if climbing into your bed would change his mind about that.’
Once again the young man shuffled awkwardly, and Rhia suspected she might have been wrong in guessing his age. His beard was dark but still quite thin along his jaw, and now she regarded him more closely she saw his face had a very boyish look. Chances were that he was several summers younger than she was, and the uncertainty of youth came out in his voice.
‘If you also swore to have no contact with the Gaians again, and left all such matters to Father or to Merwyn in future, I think it would be enough to persuade him.’
Rhia decided to nip this idea in the bud.
‘It is a kind offer Tydfyl, but I am the one the Gaians will want to deal with and besides, I intend to win this. My people know that I have acted only in their best interests.’
Tydfyl’s brow furrowed.
‘It is the headmen, not the whole tribe, who will decide your fate.’
Rhia shrugged.
‘Merwyn will speak well of me.’
The young man nodded.
‘Perhaps so, but that is it.’
Now it was Rhia’s turn to frown.
‘I have others who will support me. Bradan...’
He cut her off.
‘Bradan has been sent back to Mobryn. Alraig thinks the Dariniae may still be a threat to the coast.’
Rhia felt her confidence falter a little but she carried on.
‘When Bael comes...’
But once again he interrupted her.
‘Bael has still not returned, and none have heard any word of him.’
The fire was warm but still Rhia fought back a shiver. With Owain dead she had no First Man to speak for her Gadarim, who she knew would be behind her to a man. Aedan’s son, she couldn’t recall his name, would probably take her side, but the young headman of Nantwyn was barely more than a boy and would not be taken seriously by the others. She knew of the remaining chiefs there were some who would support her, but she couldn’t think of any who were senior enough to make a real difference in the argument. She put on a brave face.
‘My people know my quality.’
She said it with more confidence than she felt and either Tydfyl wasn’t fooled or he was planning to continue anyway.
‘Perhaps. But this will not be down to Caderyn chiefs alone.’ Rhia began to feel cold again as the young man carried on. ‘Caserach has twisted your words and claimed that since his tribe is part of the Caledon, his voice should be heard in this as well.’
Rhia wanted to snap something angry at that. Involving the Gorvicae would have made things difficult enough but Caserach? She ground her teeth. I should have seen this coming from that slippery bastard! She kept her temper controlled with an effort.
‘Kyran will speak for me.’
Tydfyl shrugged his shoulders.
‘That he may, but how much will he be listened to by our chiefs? Besides, Caserach will be speaking for his tribe and will no doubt be making veiled threats to sway them.’
Rhia felt her temper flare.
‘The Caderyn are not easily cowed!’
It had been an instinctive response but there was some truth in what Tydfyl had said. If Caserach somehow managed to hold on to his position he could cause endless trouble for the Caderyn. He might not be able to challenge them directly but small settlements and villages all along the coast would suffer for Caserach’s spite, and her headmen would know it. Tydfyl spoke again, trying hard to hide his nervousness.
‘I mean no disrespect to our tribe. But Caserach is a real threat to us and may mean ruin for you. If you marry me that can be avoided.’
For a moment Rhia wondered what would happen if she accepted him. Tydfyl seemed an earnest sort of man, and for all his bitterness if Alraig gave his word on something, he would keep it. If it kept Lucan safe it might even be worth it. But Rhia shook her head almost at once. It would not serve her people to try to wriggle out of this and contact with the Gaians was vital, both for her and for Lucan. She could not agree to such terms. Besides, she could not bring herself to marry again for mere politics and safety rather than love. And pleasant though he was Tydfyl had nothing of Bevan or Marius about him. Not even of Gawan. That thought surprised her for a moment but she pushed it away and looked up at her guest.
