Gambit of the Glass Crowns: Vol. I of epic fantasy The Sundered Kingdoms Trilogy (34 page)

“Dáire, there are other matters I must speak of.”

“Yes, please tell me what the Lady Rhiannon has seen for me.” Gawain leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him.

“Before sending me to meet the traveler in the plains, she told me something of him. She said this man, a great warrior, had come because the call of the Goddess had reached him. This man was to be our champion, Her champion in the coming times.”

“The champion of the Goddess?” Gawain felt the ball of fright in the pit of his stomach.

“Dweömer is changing. Surely, you have noticed.”

“I have.”

“Our people need a leader in battle, and Arlais needs a protector.”

“A protector?” Gawain scoffed, muttering under his breath. “I did not even stay in Helygen to protect Connor.”

“What do you mean? Has something happened to Connor?”

“Nothing like that. I was hurt when he told me to leave for Arlais without him, so I left out of spite when I should have stayed in Helygen to wait for him to care for Rhodri.”

“You should not feel guilt for your actions, Dáire. It was Her will you come to this place. It would not have been wise to dismiss Her call.”

“I still feel shameful for abandoning Connor in Helygen.”

“Connor is strong, despite his doubts. He will come to Arlais when he is able.”

“You are right. Connor is strong.” As he saw the expression on her face change, he knew his tone betrayed his feelings.

“The two of you are close then?”

He meant to shrug off the question, but found the words pouring out of his mouth as though a river over a waterfall. “I have never met one like him. He possesses some unearthly quality that accompanies his every action. Were I not to know better, I would think he one of the ancients as well.”

“I have known Connor since he was but a bairn. He has always been different from others. I know the quality of which you speak. He does not seem to belong to this world. He never has.”

“I gave him a short sword made of starmetal,” he said, still unable to stop himself from confiding in this woman he little knew, and yet to whom he felt such closeness.

Ceridwen seemed taken aback, but she smiled.

“Then you know the Arlaïn symbolism of starmetal, I take it?”

“Yes.”

Given as a gift, starmetal was said to bind two people together, for the stones had not only been of the earth, but also of the sky. Their life paths would always be linked together, no matter the outside forces of the world.

“Something told me in a dream upon first meeting him in Cærwyn he would‌—” Gawain paused, thinking of the best way to convey his thoughts. “It was as if we had known each other many times before. I knew only after the dream it had been a vision of what was yet to come. When we encountered a Duamor merchant on the road to Helygen, I saw the starmetal in his cart. It cost me everything I had, but I knew I had to give it to Connor.”

“I see. It gives me pleasure to see the two of you have formed such a close bond.” Ceridwen smiled again, and Gawain knew he was right to tell her. “I care about Connor a great deal. I care for you a great deal as well.”

“My Lady?” He struggled to hide the tone of surprise in his voice.

“You came to visit Connor when he was still unconscious. We spoke at length, but your father interrupted our conversation. You remember it, yes?”

“Of course.”

“You asked me how we knew one another.”

“Then we do?”

“Yes, Dáire. When you were an infant, we met. I was surprised you were able to recall, even remotely.”

“Were you a servant in my father’s house as well?” Gawain remembered the harshness which plagued his father’s tone when they spoke to one another.

“My sister was.”

“Your sister…”

“My sister Eithne.”

Gawain could not believe what he heard. Ceridwen was his mother’s sister‌—‌his aunt?

“I am sorry I did not tell you then.”

“No.” Gawain felt his emotions rise to the surface and he tried to clear his throat. “I am just glad I know now.”

Ceridwen placed a tender hand on his head, brushing his tangled tendrils with her fingers.

Gawain could not restrain himself and threw his arms around her. “I…‌I thought that I had no family left. My mother abandoned me so long ago, and now…‌now I am no longer welcome in Gweliwch‌—”

“Dáire, there is something more you need to know.”

“What?” Gawain looked up at her.

“Come with me.”

He followed her out of the hazel grove and through the forest. They took a northern path, away from Arlais. Through the trees, he saw a large hill rising out of a clearing in the distance. She kept a quick pace, and he struggled to match it.

“The Hwerydh Brynmor,” Ceridwen announced.

“It is beautiful.” He looked at it in amazement.

“Come.” She led him around its base to the fountain on the southern side.

Gawain stopped mid-stride, the tip of his boot digging into the moist loam around the hill. He gasped for air as he laid eyes on the huddled figure seated by the fountain. He glanced back at Ceridwen, and she nodded. He forced his feet to carry him forward. His heart beat so fast he felt as though it would burst from his chest.

“Mother?” he called out in a weak, breathy voice.

She did not look up.

Gawain hurried to her, “Mother!”

Still, she did not acknowledge his presence.

“Do you not know me?” He could feel the scorch of anger rise as tears flowed from his eyes. “I am Gawain. Dáire. I am the son you abandoned in Gweliwch.”

He felt his blood boil when she continued to ignore him.

“Can you not face the dæmons of your past? Is it too shameful to admit what you have done?”

“Dáire,” Ceridwen whispered from behind.

“Be silent!” Gawain shot her a glare. “Do not defend her!”

He turned back to face his mother.

“I want to know why. Why would you simply leave me behind? You could not bring the half breed you bore to Arlais? Of course not, you would have been cast out as a whore.” He grit his teeth so hard, he thought they might shatter. “Instead you chose to think solely of yourself and nothing of me.”

He stood before her, blind with rage.

“Why? What was wrong with me? What was so awful about me that you could not love me?” He burst into tears, unable to hold them back any longer. “How could you leave me behind for your own selfishness?”

Eithne’s silence lingered in the air, pushing Gawain to the brink of madness.

“Look at me!” He lunged forward, falling to his knees, clutching the heavy robes around her shoulders. “Please, just tell me why! Tell me! I have to, I need to know!”

“Dáire, that is enough!” Ceridwen called out.

“Tell me, you heartless bitch!” Gawain raised his hand to strike her, but Ceridwen grabbed his wrist.

He then saw his mother’s milky-white eyes for the first time. Her eyelids hung heavy.

“She is blind to this world,” Ceridwen said, releasing his wrist. “She is not even aware that you speak.”

“Then why bring me here?” Gawain shouted. “Why show me her and offer no answers?”

“I am truly sorry. I hoped that by seeing you, she would somehow be able to grip reality, but…”

Gawain turned back to face his mother, to look into her eyes. They were so empty, so still.

“Please.” He squeezed her hands.

The moment he touched her skin, Eithne opened her eyes wide. She focused on him, as if she actually saw him. Then she smiled slightly and raised her hands to caress his cheeks.

A sharp pain shot through him as he saw a flash of white light.

Eithne held his infant form in her arms, proclaiming his name while his father stood at her side. Ceridwen, she had come to Gweliwch. She spoke to Eithne while holding him in her arms, slowly rocking him to sleep.

Another flash and his head spun.

Rodric beat his mother, shouting words Gawain could not hear. His father grabbed Eithne by the wrist and dragged her away from Gawain’s bedside where he slept. She reached out for him, but his father prevented her. She tried to fight back, but he was too strong.

Gawain tried to scream as he watched his father throw her from the bedroom window to the ground below.

Flash.

Eithne wandered through the snowy mountains around Gweliwch, bruised and bloodied. He could see her face change, her eyes clouded over as she fell to the ground.

When his head stopped spinning, he found himself once again in front of his mother at the foot of the Brynmor.

“My Dáire,” she said, tears streaming down her face.

“Mother.” Gawain hugged her and cried as he felt her arms return his embrace. “I…‌I did not know. I blamed you all this time.”

“Thank you…‌for…‌coming to…‌see me,” Eithne’s voice grew halted and weak.

“Mother?” Gawain broke their embrace and sat back to look at her.

She glowed with a brilliant light, a peaceful smile on her face. “Now I can let go.”

“What? No!” He tried to grab her hands once more, but they slipped through his fingers as her body faded away.

“Eithne!” Ceridwen reached out.

She was gone.

Gawain’s head pounded and his lungs burned as he fell onto the grass of the Brynmor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Ceridwen stood in silence at his side for some time. She knelt and placed her hand on his back.

“Why?” Gawain sobbed. “Why, when I finally find out the truth, the real her, why did she leave now?”

“Because of your forgiveness, she was able to find peace.”

Gawain looked up at Ceridwen.

“She was released from the prison created from her pain and turmoil.” Ceridwen brushed his hair away from his face. “You can feel sorrow now, but only for a short while. Do not let yourself linger in sadness. It is not what she would want for you.”

He nodded, and his sobs subsided.

“Come, child.” Ceridwen helped him stand. “You are exhausted, you must rest. The Lady Rhiannon wishes to meet with you.”