May Earth Rise (52 page)

“Greetings, Efa,” Arthur replied to the former Queen of Prydyn.

Celynnen Mis, 500

S
igerric stood at the prow of the ship, his thin hands firmly gripping the oak railing. The red and white striped sails filled with the freshening wind, sending the ship cutting cleanly through the waves, propelling it swiftly toward home.

Home. Oh, how desperately he longed to return there. He had been away from Corania for a long time, far, far too long. And the things that he had done in Kymru still had the power to shame him. He wondered if he would ever feel differently, but he thought not. The best he could hope for was for the memories to fade at least a little, for the shame to lessen slightly with the passage of time. Not that the shame would ever wholly go away—and not that he would want it to. He could not be the man he was and not feel those emotions. And he didn’t want to be a different man from who he was. He never had. Unlike Havgan, who had been a very different man indeed.

It was strange, he supposed, not to mourn his friend any longer. After all, hadn’t he been mourning Havgan for years beyond counting? But he knew that Havgan was free, at long last. He knew that his friend’s long, strange exile had come to an end. And so he could not mourn that fact that Havgan had, at long last, gone home.

The battle had ended a little over three weeks ago, and he had mostly recovered from his many wounds. Not, of course, from the wounds to his soul. He did not think he would ever recover from those. It had taken ten days for the Coranians to reach the sea. In those ten days they had experienced such terror that some warriors had died from it. For they had been harried by Havgan and the Wild Hunt, driven to the sea and allowed little rest. Remembering the sight of Havgan, cloaked in red and gold, followed by a horned god and a goddess with pitiless amethyst eyes, still had the power to make him shiver.

Of course, when all the men were loaded onto the ships, when the ships had left Kymru, one by one, Sigerric’s ship had been the last to go. He had turned back to the shore for one last look. As Havgan had known he would. For the Golden Man had raised his hand in farewell and had actually smiled.

Yes, they had embarked on their ships and gratefully turned them east, glad to leave the land that had stolen their blood and their courage. In three more days they would be back in the Coranian Empire. And Sigerric did not intend to leave that land ever, ever again.

“He seems to be doing well. Unfortunately.”

Sigerric, having forgotten that Penda was standing next to him, was momentarily startled to hear him speak. Not that he was sorry Penda was there. Penda’s company soothed him, for they had been friends a long, long time. They had endured the little soul-deaths Havgan had meted out to them over the years, endured the sojourn in Kymru, endured the last retreat together, endured Havgan’s farewell.

“It is almost a shame we found that Dewin in his boat,” Sigerric said. “For I don’t trust him in the least.”

“Well, I didn’t want to keep him alive,” Penda pointed out.

“Don’t rub it in, Penda. You know perfectly well why I didn’t want to put Bledri to death.”

“Because you had enough Kymric blood on your hands?”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “Even the life of such a one who betrayed his people is one more life than I wanted to take. At least for now.”

“I understand. It’s what Talorcan would have done, if he had been here.”

“He found his true destiny,” Sigerric said. “And we can’t be grudge him that.”

“I don’t,” Penda said. “I envy him.”

Princess Aelfwyn chose that moment to join them. She was wrapped warmly in a white cloak with diamonds sewn at the hem and throat. Her bright, golden hair was braided and fastened tightly to her proud head with diamond pins. Her green eyes were cool and clear as she glanced at him. Penda bowed and left Sigerric alone with his true love.

Not, Sigerric thought bitterly, that she understood that. Or ever would.

They stood silently together for some time. When he could bear it no longer, he turned to look at her. He drank in the sight of her, all the while knowing that no matter how close she came to him, she would always remain a distant, cold light—one that would never warm him, but would always beckon him on with the hollow promise of love.

And he would follow. Now and forever.

“Princess,” he said, gripping the railing even harder to keep from reaching out to her.

“General,” she replied evenly.

“You cannot even use my name?” he asked, his heart aching.

“And you cannot even use mine?”

“I wouldn’t presume.”

“I think you presume a great deal,” she said. And for the first time since he had met her he saw a flash of fire in her eyes.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do,” she said firmly.

“Truly, I—”

“You presume, General,” she interrupted, “that I am unchanged. You presume that I carry nothing in my heart, now that my goal of being rid of my husband is accomplished. You presume that I have nothing left to give. To anyone.”

“I presume only that you have nothing you would give to me,” he said, stung. “For you know I love you. You have known for years and years, and it has meant nothing to you.”

“They call me Star of Heaven,” she said quietly. “And they presume—as do you—that I am cold and bright and distant. And they are right. But they presume that I always will be. And they are wrong. As are you.”

She turned to go, and he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to face him. There were tears on her white face, and an agony in her green eyes he had never thought to see.

“Aelfwyn,” he whispered. “Oh, my heart’s love.”

But before she could answer the air was sliced with a scream of agony.

“Arianrod,” Aelfwyn said bitterly. “My husband’s whore. It is her time, then.”

“Then you must go to help her.”

Aelfwyn laughed shortly. “Help her? I will help her into the next world, if that is what you mean. And the child, too.”

“You don’t mean that.”

But she did not answer him. She pulled away from his grasp and went swiftly below decks, to the source of the scream.

A
RIANROD LAY STILL,
too spent to move. The low ceiling of the cabin hovered over her. She felt smothered but was too weak to help herself. A strong hand laid a cold cloth on her forehead and she blinked sweat out of her eyes to see who it was.

Bledri looked down at her steadily, his gray eyes uncaring. Yet he had done the best he could for her. If it hadn’t been for him, she probably would have died.

“Why did you keep me alive?” she whispered. “Why?”

He smiled, his face twisted. “My Dewin training, I suppose. Mostly, perhaps, because I could sense how much you wanted to die.”

“And so made sure that I lived.”

“Aelfwyn was very disappointed.”

“Where did she take the baby?” she asked.

“I believe she said something about drowning it,” he said, his gray eyes dancing with glee, his mouth twisted with a cruel smile.

She supposed Bledri thought she would react to that. That she would start screaming. That she would—at the very least—care.

But she didn’t.

Once she had desperately wanted the child she had carried under her heart for so long. But that was before. Before she had learned that her brother was the father of her baby. Before her brother had died. Before her parents had returned—not to her, but to him.

They had left her, alone. Again. Living in this world which held nothing for her.

She turned her face to the wall and waited for Bledri to leave. He did at last, closing the door behind him. She lay there for a time, gathering her strength. She knew what she had to do now. And no one would stop her.

She considered taking a moment to see the child, to swear a destiny for him. But she did not think that would matter. She already knew that the child’s destiny would be dark enough. For he was the fruit of the mating of a brother Dreamer and a sister Dewin, and such a thing had long ago been forbidden—and with good reason. She had known the moment the child left her body that it had taken her life with it. That boy would take whatever lives he wanted, and laugh while he did it. Her Mordred. Her son. She would leave him as a gift to Aelfwyn.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, ignoring the blood that trickled down her legs, further staining her shift, she rose from her bed, staggering to the closed door. She had been afraid it would be locked, and was surprised to find that it was not.

She opened the door softly, cautiously putting her head outside into the narrow corridor. But no one was there. As swiftly as she could, she made her way down the corridor to the stairs leading up to the deck. The ship swayed steadily, but not violently. She moved carefully, managing to stay on her feet, gritting her teeth against the pain as she climbed, not caring that she was leaving a trail of blood behind her.

For once in her life, her luck held. For as she came up on deck there was no one to notice her. They were all gathered at the prow, pointing at what looked to be a school of dolphins. Perhaps Nantsovelta herself had sent them to allow Arianrod to do what she so desperately needed to do.

And at that moment she did indeed feel that Nantsovelta, Lady of the Waters, Queen of the Moon, was with her. She felt a comforting presence, and for once she did not feel alone. Nantsovelta, the goddess most revered by the Dewin, was standing with her, helping her to make her way to the railing, ensuring that no one raised the alarm.

She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the tangy scent of the salty water. Droplets nestled in her tawny hair like diamonds as she grasped the nearest taut rope. Steadying herself with the rope, she pulled herself up until she was standing on the railing. She looked down into the sea, and felt no fear.

The prayer to Nantsovelta came to her lips and she whispered, “O vessel bearing the light, O great brightness Outshining the sun, draw me ashore, under your Protection, from the short-lived ship of the world.”

J
UST BEFORE SHE
jumped, she heard the sound of a hunting horn. And she saw them. They had come for her at last. She saw her brother, flashing golden in the sun. She caught a glimpse of her father’s amber eyes, of her mother’s tawny hair, of the welcoming smile all three had for her.

And then she jumped. And the sea welcomed her, filling her lungs, taking her in. Her body sank like a stone. But her spirit rose up and up, straining to join them.

They had waited for her. As she had always dreamed they would. She would never be alone again.

A
ELFWYN STARED DOWN
at the child in her arms. At Arianrod’s child. At Havgan’s child. At the child of the two she hated more than anyone in the world. Sigerric was mad to think she would not take this chance to rid herself of this last reminder, this vestige of all she despised most.

The sound of hunting horns drifted to her ears. Then she heard a splash and the cries of the men on deck.

She smiled, for she knew what had happened. She had heard Arianrod leave her cabin and had known where the woman was going. At last, Arianrod was now dead. Soon, this child would join its mother in the depths of the sea.

She looked down into the tiny face, framed with a thatch of tawny hair. The boy’s eyes opened. They were amber, amber as Havgan’s had been. Amber as Arianrod’s had been. She was conscious of a dim surprise, for newborn baby’s eyes are always blue at first. Always.

The amber eyes glittered in the smoky light with a yellowish tinge that made her flesh crawl, at the same time engendering a fierce protectiveness. No one would harm this child. No one. Not while she had breath in her body. This boy would be hers. She would raise him to rule the Empire.

She said the child’s name as she had heard Arianrod do. “Mordred.”

And though she said it with reverence, with joy, the name still tasted of ashes in her mouth. Somewhere deep down inside a part of her screamed with horror, even as she held the child to her heart.

“Mordred,” she said again. “My son.”

Addiendydd:
sixth day of the week

aderyn:
birds

aethnen:
aspen tree; sacred to Ederynion

alarch:
swan; the symbol of the royal house of Ederynion

alban:
light; any one of the four solar festivals

Alban Awyr:
festival honoring Taran; Spring Equinox

Alban Haf:
festival honoring Modron; Summer Solstice

Alban Nerth:
festival honoring Agrona and Camulos; Autumnal Equinox

Alban Nos:
festival honoring Sirona and Grannos; the Winter Solstice

ap:
son of

ar:
high

Archdruid:
leader of the Druids, must be a descendent of Llyr

Arderydd:
high eagle; symbol of the High Kings

Ardewin:
leader of the Dewin, must be a descendent of Llyr

arymes:
prophecy

Awenyddion:
dreamer (see Dreamer)

awyr:
air

bach:
boy

Bard:
a telepath; they are musicians, poets, and arbiters of the law in matters of inheritance, marriage, and divorce; Bards can Far-Sense and Wind-Speak; they revere the god Taran, King of the Winds

bedwen:
birch tree; sacred to the Bards

Bedwen Mis:
birch month; roughly corresponds to March

blaid:
wolf; the symbol of the royal house of Prydyn

bran:
raven; the symbol of the Dreamers

Brenin:
high or noble one; the High King; acts as an amplifier for the Y Dawnus

buarth:
circle

cad:
battle

cadair:
chair (of state)

caer:
fortress

calan:
first day; any one of the four fire festivals

Calan Gaef:
festival honoring Annwyn and Aertan

Calan Llachar:
festival honoring Cerridwen and Cerrunnos

Calan Morynion:
festival honoring Nantsovelta

Calan Olau:
festival honoring Mabon

cantref:
a large division of land for administrative purposes; two to three commotes make up a cantref; a cantref is ruled by a Lord or Lady

canu:
song

cariad:
beloved

celynnen:
holly

Celynnen Mis:
holly month; roughly corresponds to late May/early June

cenedl:
clan

cerdinen:
rowan tree; sacred to the Dreamers

Cerdinen Mis:
rowan month; roughly corresponds to July

Cerdorrian:
sons of Cerridwen; the hidden organization of warriors and Y Dawnus working to drive the Coranians out of Kymru

cleddyf:
sword

collen:
hazel tree; sacred to Prydyn

Collen Mis:
hazel month; roughly corresponds to October

commote:
a small division of land for administrative purposes; two or three commotes make up a cantref; a commote is ruled by a Gwarda

coed:
forest, wood

cynyddu:
increase; the time when the moon is waxing

da:
father

dan:
fire

derwen:
oak tree; sacred to the Druids

Derwen Mis:
oak month; roughly corresponds to December

Dewin:
a clairvoyant; they are physicians; they can Life-Read and Wind-Ride; they revere the goddess Nantsovelta, Lady of the Moon

disglair:
bright; the time when the moon is full

draig:
dragon; the symbol of the Dewin

draenenwen:
hawthorn tree; sacred to Rheged

Draenenwen Mis:
hawthorn month; roughly corresponds to late June/early July

Dreamer:
a descendent of Llyr who has precognitive abilities; the Dreamer can Dream-Speak and Time-Walk; the Dreamer also has the other three gifts—telepathy, clairvoyance, and psychokinesis; there is only one Dreamer in a generation; they revere the god Mabon, King of Fire

Dream-Speaking:
precognitive dreams; one of the Dreamer’s gifts

Druid:
a psychokinetic; they are astronomers, scientists, and lead all festivals; they can Shape-Move, Fire-Weave, and, in partnership with the High King, Storm-Bring; they revere the goddess Modron, the Great Mother of All

drwys:
doors

dwfr:
water

dwyvach-breichled:
goddess-bracelet; bracelet made of oak used by Druids

eiddew:
ivy

Eiddew Mis:
ivy month; roughly corresponds to April

enaid-dal:
soul-catcher; lead collars that prevent Y Dawnus from using their gifts

eos:
nightingale; the symbol of the Bards

erias:
fire

erydd:
eagle

Far-Sensing:
the telepathic ability to communicate with animals

ffynidwydden:
fir tree; sacred to the High Kings

Fire-Weaving:
the psychokinetic ability to light fires

gaef:
winter

galanas:
blood price

galor:
mourning, sorrow

goddeau:
trees

gorsedd:
a gathering (of Bards)

greu:
blood

Gwaithdydd:
third day of the week

gwarchan:
incantation

Gwarda:
ruler of a commote

gwernan:
alder tree; sacred to Gwynedd

Gwernan Mis:
alder month; roughly corresponds to late April/early May

gwinydden:
vine

Gwinydden:
vine month; roughly corresponds to August

Gwlad Yr Haf:
the Land of Summer; the Otherworld

gwydd:
knowledge

gwyn:
white

gwynt:
wind

Gwyntdydd:
fifth day of the week

gwyr:
seeker

haf:
summer

hebog:
hawk; the symbol of the royal house of Gwynedd

helygen:
willow

Helygen Mis:
willow month; roughly corresponds to January

honneit:
spear

Life-Reading:
the clairvoyant ability to lay hands on a patient and determine the nature of their ailment

llachar:
bright

llech:
stone

lleihau:
to diminish; the time when the moon is waning

lleu:
lion

Llundydd:
second day of the week

llyfr:
book

llyn:
lake

llys:
court

Lord/Lady:
ruler of a cantref

mam:
mother

march:
horse; the symbol of the royal house of Rheged

Master Bard:
leader of the Bards, must be a descendent of Llyr

Meirgdydd:
fourth day of the week

meirig:
guardian

Meriwdydd:
seventh day of the week

mis:
month

morynion:
maiden

mwg-breudduyd:
smoke-dream; a method Dreamers can use to induce dreams

mynydd:
mountain

mynyddoedd:
mountains

naid:
leap

nemed:
shrine, a sacred grove

nerth:
strength

neuadd:
hall

niam-lann:
a jeweled metallic headpiece, worn by ladies of rank

nos:
night

ogaf:
cave

olau:
fair

onnen:
ash tree; sacred to the Dewin

Onnen Mis:
ash month; roughly corresponds to February

pair:
cauldron

pen:
head of

Plentyn Prawf:
child test; the testing of children, performed by the Bards, to determine if they are Y Dawnus

rhyfelwr:
warrior

sarn:
road

Shape-Moving:
the psychokinetic ability to move objects

Storm-Bringing:
the psychokinetic ability to control certain weather conditions; only effective in partnership with the High King

Suldydd:
first day of the week

tarbell:
a board game, similar to chess

tarw:
bull; the symbol of the Druids

tarw-casgliad:
the ceremony where Druids invite a dream from Modron

telyn:
harp

teulu:
warband

Time-Walking:
the ability to see events in the past; one of the Dreamer’s gifts

tir:
earth

triskele:
the crystal medallion used by Dewin

ty:
house

tynge tynghed:
the swearing of a destiny

Tynged Mawr:
great fate; the test to determine a High King

tywyllu:
dark; the time when the moon is new

ur:
daughter of

var:
out of

Wind-Riding:
the clairvoyant ability of astral projection

Wind-Speaking:
the telepathic ability to communicate with other humans

wythnos:
week

yned:
justice

Y Dawnus:
the gifted; a Druid, Bard, Dewin, or Dreamer

ysgawen:
elder

Ysgawen Mis:
elder month; roughly corresponds to September

ystafell:
the Ruler’s chambers

ywen:
yew

Ywen Mis:
yew month; roughly corresponds to November