Leaping Wolf, page 38
part #2 of Caledon Saga Series
‘It was kind of you to come, but the answer is no. If nothing else, the tribe would see my actions as being born of fear, and I will not have that.’
Tydfyl leaned forwards, his face serious.
‘I can assure you that...’
But Rhia interrupted him. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings but this was not a matter for discussion.
‘I can assure you that the Caderyn will support their chieftain. I can assure you that my son and I are the best hope we have of a lasting peace with the Gaians.’ She rose to her feet. ‘And I can assure you, Tydfyl son of Alraig, that your father will be proven wrong in this, and I will continue to serve this tribe as your High Chieftain long after this trial of his has been forgotten.’
The young man seemed taken aback but still he tried to argue his point.
‘Those are bold words, but they are all for nothing if this trial costs you your life. And brave though they are, our people can feel fear as well as love. They fear the Gaians and they fear the Dariniae. They fear the changes that you may bring to their world.’
They were not alone in feeling fear but Rhia stamped hers down before it could show. Fear and shame had been companions of hers for many years but she had learned how to conquer such petty emotions. She looked Tydfyl in the eye and her voice was calm and steady.
‘Then let Alraig play on their fears for his argument. I shall rely on their love. And we shall see which quality the Caderyn most possess.’
Tydfyl plainly wanted to say more but he must have known it would be futile. The young man simply bowed his head respectfully and took his leave of her, striding from the room and closing the heavy door behind him. Rhia stayed standing for a while and turned her gaze back to the fire. She knew her people loved her, she knew that was true, but that didn’t mean she felt as confident as she had sounded. She sank back down onto her creaky chair and kept staring into the dancing orange flames. Worries were running through her head like a herd of hunted deer but the firelight was hypnotic, and in spite of all she began to doze. She had done all that she could, and made preparations for Lucan in case everything went wrong. Now the matter lay purely in the hands of the gods, and time would decide it all. She sighed. One way or the other.
Chapter 32. The Trial Begins
The hill of Bryngarth was not as steep as the one at Graigarw, but in his battered state the ride was still a chore. Gawan grimaced as he peered up the long slope through the spitting rain. They were not that far from the top, and his aching body was glad for it. The old Gaian who’d tended to his head and strapped up his leg had done a remarkable job all things considered, but the First Man was still in damned poor shape and couldn’t wait for this journey to be done. It was not long after noon but the heavy clouds made the light pale and grey, turning the normally bright hillside into something plain and dull.
Gawan turned in his saddle to see that how Tegwen was doing. The hill might not be that steep but if the weather had been much worse he’d have recommended they dismount. Sure-footed though their mounts were, there was much more scope for damage in a fall from a slipping pony than there was from a fall when on foot. She seemed to be managing well enough though and she gave him a little smile. Gawan nodded back at her before turning to face the hilltop again, keen to get this done.
The First Man tugged at the hood of his cloak and urged his pony on. According to a farmer they had met on the plain below, the Gorvicae column had already reached the Caderyn capital, and Gawan was keen to speak to Duran and the others. He could not expect them to be a part of Galerian’s rescue attempt, should it be needed, but it was only right that he was honest with his brother Gadarim. They would understand, even if some might not strictly approve. They were all veterans of the legion that Rhianwyn and Marius had founded, and they would want her kept safe as much as he did. Well, almost as much. He scowled at himself. Even now he sometimes dreamt of the Wildcat for all his efforts to put her from his mind. I am risking everything to keep you safe, must you still disturb my sleep?
After what seemed like far too long a time for so short a journey, the two Gorvicae reached the broad top of Bryngarth’s hill. Gawan sensed the inevitable and waited for Tegwen to look back at the view of the plain below. Even in dismal weather the sight was impressive, and he allowed her a few moments to appreciate it. Before long Tegwen turned back to him and gave a half-apologetic smile, and Gawan let his lip twitch in acknowledgement. He took a quick look around the top of the hill to orient himself, and then urged his pony in the direction of the longhouses where the Gorvicae had slept on their last visit. Hopefully Duran and his cohort had been put there again, and Gwydion and Pryder would presumably be staying with them.
Tegwen followed him in silence, which left Gawan to his thoughts. He wasn’t particularly glad of that, as memories of walking this hilltop with Emeryn came back to him as they rode. He had been happy then, and had lost it all by his own fault. He shoved the thought away. He had resolved to right his wrongs as best he could and self-pity would serve no good to anyone. There was work to be done. As he rode past various houses he found himself mentally planning an escape route for Rhianwyn and the Gaians should it be needed. How much he would involve himself he still hadn’t decided, but he knew that if he had to he would lend Heartreaver to her cause. He had done before. He didn’t like to think what that might mean for his, and Tegwen’s, future in the tribe, but if Taliesyn became chieftain he would understand the necessity. Probably. It was in the Gorvicae’s best interests for Rhianwyn to live, even in exile, since she would still be a voice for the Luriae in Tamora. Gawan just wished that was his only reason for helping her.
There were few people about and the silence grew almost oppressive, so much so that he was glad when Tegwen decided to speak.
‘Do you think they may have... ’
But that was as far as she got before another voice cut across her.
‘Leaping Wolf? Where have you been?’
For some reason the tone reminded him of his mother and Gawan twisted in his saddle, curious as to what person who knew his name would dare to scold him in such a way. He could not think of many, and what he saw surprised him.
Walking briskly towards them was a dignified-looking woman in a long blue dress, and after a moment Gawan recognised her as Carradan’s widow. Trailing behind her was the boy Lucan, looking anxious and confused. In the corner of his eye Gawan saw Tegwen holding back a smirk, clearly enjoying the sight of a woman reprimanding him. A part of him wanted to bristle at her tone but he found himself nodding his head.
‘We were delayed. Has the...’ He’d been about to say trial but a glance at the boy made him hesitate. ‘Has it begun?’
The Caderyn matriarch nodded impatiently.
‘That it has, and you need to get yourself there. My daughter needs the voice of a Gadarim.’
Gawan doubted if Rhianwyn would welcome him exactly but with Owain gone and Kyran an islander, his voice was likely to be the one more listened to by the Caderyn chiefs. He dipped his head to the chieftain’s mother, then again to the boy beside her. Lucan nodded back but did not speak.
‘I shall go there now.’
He wheeled his mount’s head in the direction of the longhall and Tegwen made to follow him, but the woman stepped in front of her pony, her words softening a little.
‘The headmen and druids are in private conference my dear, but you can come with me.’ She nodded at Lucan. ‘I’m sure we can find something useful for you to do.’
Like her father, Tegwen seemed to obey the older woman without thinking. She dismounted at once, walked up to her and nodded respectfully. The Caderyn passed her Lucan’s hand without a word and ushered them both away towards the houses. She glanced back at Gawan and jerked her head towards the longhall.
‘I said you are needed there.’
Gawan blinked, wondering how he’d have reacted had someone like Karadoc spoken to him like that, but then he dug in his heels and urged his pony into a trot, heading for the Caderyn’s hall. What few people were wandering the town scattered from his path and Gawan focused his gaze dead ahead. The trial was already underway, and he was needed.
He left his pony with a young lad and strode boldly into the hall, the warmth of the air inside hitting him pleasantly as he entered. His green cloak was dripping and he lowered the hood and then undid the clasp, both without breaking his stride. He tossed it over an empty bench as walked across the room. The sight in the hall was very much like the moot he had seen at Graigarw, though with fewer faces that he readily recognised. Taliesyn and Karadoc were there of course, with Hywel sitting tactfully in-between them. The skeletal-looking Caderyn druid was there, along with a couple of others Gawan didn’t know, but as he had expected, neither Bael nor Reaghan was present. Most of the benches were occupied by various Caderyn chiefs, and though Gawan knew most by sight he knew few of them by name. Merwyn, their elder, was sitting quietly at the high table, while Alraig was on his feet, and had been speaking until the Gorvic had walked in. Rhianwyn was standing in the middle of the hall, ignoring the stool that had been set there for her comfort.
Their faces all turned to the Gorvicae’s First Man, and he concealed the little jolt he felt as Rhianwyn’s eyes met his. She was clearly surprised to see him but he saw, or perhaps hoped he saw, a tiny glimmer of approval in her gaze. He noted that she still wore her sword at her hip and was reassured a little that they were at least honouring her status as a Gadarim. He nodded his head to her, and then to the rest of the assembly, and strode across to where his fellow tribesmen sat. It was only when he reached them that he saw Caserach sitting on a bench near the high table, the giant Broad Kellas beside him. He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised to see them but all the same he couldn’t help but comment on it.
‘What is that craven dog doing here?’
Caserach’s face reddened at once and he sprang to his feet, but Alraig waved a hand at him.
‘Caserach is here because he is part of the Caledon.’ The headman’s voice could have cut through stone. ‘As are you.’
It would have been clear to a blind man that Alraig resented their presence and a glance around showed that he wasn’t alone among the Caderyn. Nonetheless no-one else voiced an objection to it and Gawan sat down with a grumble, Caserach following his example a heartbeat later. His face quickly shifted from angry to smug, and Gawan felt his right hand yearning to reach for Heartreaver. Broad Kellas had watched the exchange with the bored but confident expression of a man who knew that if trouble started, he could handle it, and Gawan couldn’t tell which one of them he most wanted to tear in half. The image of Tarwyn’s face and the sound of his voice came to him in a flash, and the urge to avenge his brother burned hot in the First Man’s gut.
He might have stood up and charged the big warrior and damned be the consequences, had Merwyn not spoken from the high table.
‘We thank you for your presence, Leaping Wolf. Our chieftain will appreciate your voice, I am sure.’
Gawan wouldn’t have sworn to that but he remembered why he was there and decided vengeance could wait, and the Gadarim let his hands relax and nodded to the white-haired headman. Merwyn dipped his head back to him and gestured with one hand for Alraig to continue. The younger headman went back to speaking, his face grim.
‘We come here to decide the fate of Rhianwyn daughter of Carradan; to determine firstly if she is fit to remain as High Chieftain of the Caderyn and, if not, what punishment is to be levelled should she be found guilty of betraying the tribe.’
He was making sure to cast his eyes around the hall when he spoke, addressing each headman and druid almost directly.
‘She led us well at Second Nantwyn and has succeeded in making peace with our neighbours in the process. Yet she would make many changes to our way of life, changes that fly in the face of some of the ancient traditions of her people.’
Merwyn spoke politely from the high table.
‘With respect comrade, Rhianwyn’s record of law-making is not on trial today.’
There was a roughly equal amount of nodding and frowning in response to this, but Rhianwyn kept her face blank and Alraig maintained his composure.
‘They are not, yet they are connected to the matter at hand.’ He turned back to his audience. ‘It is one of these laws, as set down by Rhianwyn herself, that our chieftain has flouted and so broken faith with her people.’
Alraig paced across the room to where a short-haired man was sitting nervously in a corner. Gawan recognised him as one of the Gaian scribes left at Bryngarth by the governor before he fled. Rhianwyn had been utilising them in helping to organise the Caledon and had adopted the Gaian practice of marking laws down on ‘paper’. Most people had deemed it to be a waste of time but some headmen had learned the art of reading during the occupation and had found it to be useful to them. Gawan didn’t really see the point, since if chiefs and druids couldn’t remember a law then it probably wasn’t worth keeping, but it wasn’t for him to judge such things. Alraig took a creamy-white piece of paper from the scribe and held it aloft for a moment.
‘For those who were not there or do not recall this law, it is recorded here. It states clearly that no Gaian legion, nor Gaian troops of any kind, may enter Caledon land under arms.’
He faced Rhianwyn, paper in hand.
‘Do you deny the creation of this law?’
It was a pretty pointless question, given that most of those in the hall had been there when the law was made, but he asked it anyway. Rhianwyn’s voice was calm and steady as she answered.
‘I do not.’
Alraig nodded his head and turned back to his audience.
‘And yet when our own legion marched towards Three Willows Rhianwyn ignored this law by summoning the Blackbird Legion. She demonstrated contempt for the laws set out for the Caderyn. What is that if not a betrayal of her tribe?’
Merwyn spoke again, a hint of impatience in his voice.
‘And what else should she have done when Caserach invaded our lands?’
He made a point of looking directly at the Dariniae chief when he mentioned him, and plenty of other faces were joining him in frowning. Caserach looked relaxed, though Gawan suspected it was an act, and Alraig answered smoothly, clearly prepared for this.
‘She could have sent the Dariniae to clear up their own mess, or else placed more faith in her fellow Caderyn. Instead she reached out for the hand of the invader.’
The first hint of emotion Gawan had heard from the man seemed to flicker into life on that last word. Rhianwyn was keeping quiet, her face composed, and Merwyn spoke again in her defence.
‘Chief Rhianwyn had little choice, given the numbers that Caserach and his ally had brought to attack us.’
Alraig frowned.
‘A Caderyn chief ought to have faith in her people. She should have trusted us to defeat this threat ourselves.’
Merwyn’s temper seemed to be thinning and he pointed a finger at Caserach.
‘You mean that threat? The one you have allowed to be seated here among us?’
There were rumblings of agreement and even Alraig seemed to speak through gritted teeth.
‘It was another of Rhianwyn’s laws that all the Caledon be involved in great matters of the tribes.’
He seemed about to continue but Taliesyn spoke up from the Gorvicae bench.
‘Yet Caserach attacked the Caledon? How can he be both a member of it and an enemy to it?’
Rhianwyn looked quietly pleased at the comment and several Caderyn chiefs nodded their heads. Gawan suspected it was more in disapproval of the Darin than in approval of the Gorvic but it was support nonetheless, and Gawan was glad that Taliesyn had spoken. Alraig gave him a look that might have withered corn but it was Caserach who spoke first. He stood up from his bench and raised his hand in what was clearly a false gesture of respect.
‘May I speak?’
It was plain that neither Merwyn nor Alraig was keen for him to, but after what he had just said Alraig could hardly refuse him now.
‘Speak.’
Caserach nodded to the headman and addressed the room.
‘I swore no oath to the Caledon. I raided another tribe, as we all have done since our grandfathers were young. Had we fought as we ever have before then there would be no need for this; one side would have called for enough and so ended the battle. Tribute would have been paid, and we would all have gone home again.’ He pointed at Rhianwyn and his voice gained some heat. ‘But she brought in a Gaian legion that slaughtered Darin and Breiryn alike, in defiance of the traditions of our people. Caledon or not I demand to have my say in this matter. Rhianwyn has betrayed her own people and by extension, all the Luriae. Let her pay for it with her life.’
Gawan was not alone in scowling at him for that and Rhianwyn broke her silence, staring straight at Caserach as she spoke.
‘You speak poison! You took joy in butchering our people and would have continued to do so with your southern friends because killing is all you are good for.’ She looked around. ‘Have we all of us forgotten that this is the man who murdered Ierryn?’
She shot Broad Kellas a hard look as well but the big Gadarim simply looked back at her, uncaring. Alraig’s head whipped around to face her and his words were quick and waspish.
‘Rhianwyn, you will be kind enough to keep silent until you are called upon to speak.’
The Caderyn’s chieftain did not argue back, but beneath her calm facade Gawan was certain she wanted to strike him. He knew it because the same urge was bubbling up in him. The various other chiefs seemed uncertain how to react and Alraig spoke into the silence before anyone else could think of what to say.
‘Caserach’s actions, and his right to rule, will be resolved later, and with his own people. For today he accuses Rhianwyn of attacking his raiding party with Gaian soldiers and this she has undoubtedly done, and in defiance of the law. The penalty for this can and must be severe.’
