Rise of the Pendragon (The Last Pendragon Saga Book 6) Read online

  “Did Dafydd hold it with the intent to use it?” Taliesin said. “Have you?”

  Cade went still. “No. Neither of us.” He gazed down at the sword and like Taliesin had done, traced the writing on the hilt and then along the blade. “Why do you say it’s the real one?”

  “I read the inscription: only thou who art noble in heart may wield me.”

  “Remarkably self-explanatory, if anyone could actually read the words,” Cade said.

  “There are few of us left,” Taliesin said.

  “There’s one left, you mean,” Cade said, gently.

  “Perhaps.”

  “Having found it, through considerable effort, why would Mabon leave it behind?”

  “Didn’t Dafydd say that Mabon appeared not to know how to wield a sword? That he sweated as he held it? Dyrnwyn does not bestow allegiance lightly. Mabon may have realized that claiming this particular Treasure, at least, was a mistake.”

  Cade nodded, still fingering Dyrnwyn’s hilt.

  “Try it,” Taliesin said.

  Cade had told Taliesin that he wasn’t tempted to keep the Treasures for his own gain, and that was the truth. Power, as Mabon understood it, was in Cade’s opinion overrated. Love was much harder to come by. But still … Cade straightened his shoulders and picked up Dyrnwyn. He respected Taliesin’s foresight, so he braced himself for the possibility that the bard was right. He spun on one heel, slashing the blade through the air as if decapitating an unseen opponent.

  The hilt warmed, and then in a flash of fire and light, blazed from hilt to tip. A storm of power filled the room and words echoed in the small chamber: Hail Cadwaladr ap Cadwallon, King of the Britons!

  Cade dropped the sword on the table so fast he feared in retrospect that it would burn the wood. It didn’t. Nor had it burned him. Still, his hands trembled. “Did you hear that?”

  “I heard it,” Taliesin said, “although no one else could have. The voice came from the world of the sidhe. What do you think Mabon might have heard when he drew it? Something, perhaps, that frightened him into abandoning it? Some say these Treasures have minds of their own.”

  Cade stared at Taliesin, his eyes wide. “This changes everything.”

  “Everything, and nothing,” Taliesin said.

  Without looking at his friend, because he couldn’t quite bear to see the wisdom in his eyes, Cade wrapped the priceless artifacts in the cloak and tucked them under his arm.

  “The Saxons will be here in two days,” Cade said.

  “Yes,” Taliesin said.

  If only Cade could have been as certain of victory.

  Chapter Two

  Goronwy

  Goronwy had taken all of a dozen breaths in the hall—or what passed for a hall since half of it was open to the air—before he found himself grinding his teeth and regretting every moment that he spent among these supposed allies.

  “How do we know that you are not in league with the sidhe more than with us?”

  That was Rhys again, who seemed to feel that he had become the spokesman for all of the lords of Powys. Goronwy wished Arthur could have come, or Hywel’s father, or even Angharad’s. Any one of them would have been preferable to having to listen to Rhys and his father, Morgan.

  But Arthur was dead, and the others had felt it impossible to leave their people while Mabon—or the Saxons—were so dangerous. Hywel had led the contingent of his father’s men and been proud to do it. But in the eyes of the lords here, he was a boy. Goronwy glanced at Cade—who himself was only twenty-two. Cade didn’t meet his eyes. Goronwy’s stomach sank into his boots: Cade needed Goronwy himself to speak.

  Goronwy rose slowly to his feet. “I have something to say.”

  He was pleased that a palpable sense of relief wafted throughout the room. He wasn’t the only one who was sick of Rhys’s pronouncements and answers masquerading as questions.

  “By all means.” Morgan made a welcoming gesture. “The son of the King of Man has every right to speak in this company.”

  “I confess to being confused by this meeting,” Goronwy said. “Are we here to fight the Saxons or to fight among ourselves?”

  Rhys snorted. “The Saxons, of course.”

  “Then what is the question at issue? Who shall lead us? Surely that is a simple matter.” Goronwy turned to Cade. “Only one man has defeated an army of Saxons in recent memory, and that is the King of Gwynedd.”

  Cade’s teeth were clenched, but he did the right thing, which was lift his hand in acknowledgment of his achievement.

  Goronwy turned back to the company. Nobody else had said anything. “If the issue at hand is the High Kingship, which so far nobody has openly spoken of, then surely that is an issue to be decided another day. If we do not defeat the Saxons here, whomever we’ve chosen as High King will rule over a country that doesn’t exist.”

  “Well said.” Morgan stood. “But I differ with you as to who should lead.” He nodded his head at Cade. “While I admit to King Cadwaladr’s recent triumphs, where are his men? I have brought far more than he, and I believe that my son, Rhys, should unite our forces here.”

  “The men of Gwynedd are here!”

  From beside Goronwy, Cade sighed as Tudur and his brother-in-law, Pod, marched into the room.

  “We follow King Cadwaladr,” Tudur said. “There is none whom we trust more to lead us.”

  “Such is the sentiment of every man here, regarding his overlord.” Morgan’s voice was smooth, though Goronwy was sure he saw unhappiness in Morgan’s face at Tudur’s arrival. Wouldn’t he rather have more men to fight the Saxons, even if it meant his son didn’t lead the Welsh forces?

  “But we must counter the Saxons,” Morgan continued. “I propose a compromise. King Cadwaladr shall lead his men in battle.” Morgan bowed his head towards Cade. “Rhys shall lead the men of Powys. No one shall be forced to follow someone he does not trust.”

  Goronwy stared at Morgan, appalled. It was like having two cooks in the kitchen. It never worked, and everyone suffered from burned food.

  “I do not object to such a decision,” Cade said.

  Goronwy glared at him, wanting to throttle his king. They both knew who was the better leader. Every man in the room knew who was the better leader. But Cade wasn’t willing to create disunity at the cost of his own ascendancy, and the other men didn’t want to go against Morgan. Goronwy looked back at Morgan, who had a smile of satisfaction on his face. There was something wrong here, currents that Goronwy couldn’t follow.

  Morgan smiled. “Is that settled, then?”

  * * * * *

  “Christ on the cross! Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Goronwy and Cade stood alone on a lower rampart. Dawn was coming, and they watched the eastern plains for a sign of the Saxons. Goronwy had slept fitfully, cursing himself for how the meeting had turned out, but not knowing what he could have done to change it. In the darkness, he’d gone looking for Cade, who hadn’t slept at all. That was normal for him, of course, but Goronwy thought he saw a haggard look in Cade’s eyes. Sleep might have refreshed him.

  Cade lowered his hands. He’d been cupping them around his eyes so he could see farther. Goronwy had found that this helped him less lately than it used to.

  “What would you have had me do?” Cade said. “Lose all of the men of Powys in a fit of pique? We can work with Rhys. Morgan is leaving Caer Fawr at first light, along with most of the older men on the Council. Without his father to bolster his opinion of himself, Rhys is malleable.”

  “You think so?” Goronwy said. “More likely, he decides he’s infallible and kills us all in some stupid gambit he thinks will defeat the Saxons.”

  Cade turned fully to Goronwy who clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking. So rarely did he find himself this angry, he didn’t quite know what to do.

  “You really think I was wrong, don’t you?” Cade said. “That I should have asserted whatever authority I had to push the council towards appointing me?
”

  Goronwy took in a deep breath and eased it out. “I respect your judgment, my lord, more than any man’s, but your greatest fault is that you don’t recognize your own strengths as fully as you should.”

  “I would not rule men against their will.” Cade pointed east, to the Saxon forces they couldn’t yet see. “Not when death sits on the horizon, and I’m a sidhe.”

  “I understand that this power you have is not something you’ve chosen,” Goronwy said. “But Arianrhod gave it to you anyway. She chose you. To deny that of which you are capable is to lie to yourself. I’m not saying that your humility is false, but that it is misplaced.”

  Goronwy didn’t like the discomfited look he saw in Cade’s eyes, but he didn’t look away. Someone had to tell him the truth. Even Taliesin hadn’t in this instance.

  “Those are strong words, Goronwy,” Cade said.

  “But truthful ones as I see it.”

  Cade rested his elbows on the turf wall of the rampart, his chin in his hands. “Yesterday, Taliesin offered me the Thirteen Treasures as a means to gather power to myself. To rule all Britain as no man as done since the days of Arthur.”

  “And you refused him,” Goronwy said.

  “Of course.”

  “I don’t necessarily disagree with that decision,” Goronwy said. “Meddling in the affairs of the sidhe never results in a predictable outcome. That’s not to say, however, that you shouldn’t use the gifts that God has given you.”

  Cade scrubbed at his hair with both hands, leaving it standing on end, and then dropped them to his sides. “You are right. Of course, you are right.”

  “I don’t want to be right,” Goronwy said.

  “Worse, because I failed to take up the mantle of leadership here, it will be my fault if we lose men over Rhys’ poor decision-making.”

  Goronwy swallowed hard. “I wouldn’t have put it that starkly—”

  “But that is what you’re saying, isn’t it?”

  “Rhys’ decisions are his own,” Goronwy said. “Each man makes his own choices, and his are not your fault, my lord.”

  “Even if I could have averted them?” Cade said. “What use is honor and nobility if somebody dies because I failed to put Rhys and Morgan in their place.”

  “Then again, even had the Council named you general in this battle, that’s not to say Rhys or his men would have followed you. Perhaps they would have left us, as you feared.” Goronwy swallowed hard, for he realized he was arguing for a position he hadn’t considered.

  Cade eyed him, and now it was Goronwy’s turn to feel discomfited. Goronwy sighed. “Which is why you didn’t force their hand. I am chastised. Forgive me, my lord.”

  “My lords.”

  Goronwy and Cade turned to see Catrin standing ten feet away with downturned lashes, having kept her distance from their conversation. It had been a heated one, however, and if she’d stood there any length of time, she couldn’t have failed to hear what they’d said to each other. She held a tray with food and drink for them. Despite the lingering unease at the exchange he’d just had with Cade, Goronwy was pleased that there was enough food for ten men. That meant there’d be enough for him, even if Cade ate his fill.

  “Thank you, Catrin,” Goronwy said.

  Catrin approached and set the tray on the wall beside Goronwy. She kept her eyes towards the ground, but she didn’t fool Goronwy with her show of temerity.

  “You heard us,” he said, not as a question.

  “I apologize, my lords, but I couldn’t help it.”

  Cade glanced upwards to the rampart above them that protected the fort proper. “Did others?”

  “I don’t believe so, my lord,” Catrin said. “It wasn’t as loud as all that. Besides, the men in the fort are preoccupied with the coming battle.”

  “And what do you think about what Goronwy had to say to me?” Cade said.

  Catrin looked at Cade for the first time. “You’re asking me?”

  “Why not?” Cade said. “Rhiann isn’t here to give me her opinion. Yours will have to suffice.”

  Catrin shot Goronwy a piercing look he couldn’t quite interpret. “I agree with Lord Goronwy that we would be better off with you as our commander, but that does not excuse Rhys his mistakes when he makes them. It was his choice to press so hard for the role. It is his choice to take advantage of your lack of ambition.”

  Goronwy studied Catrin. She’d raised her head as she’d continued speaking, no longer feigning a retiring nature—any more than that was Cade’s true personality. Lord and witch exchanged long looks before Cade nodded. “I give way, though it is too late to change the Council’s decision. However, I will not allow Rhys to ruin our chances of victory out of ignorance.”

  “How are you going to stop him?” Goronwy said.

  “I’ll think of something.”

  “I think you have to be prepared to overrule Rhys if need be,” Catrin said, looking at Cade with a steady gaze. “It might be possible to persuade him of the proper course of action, but the time might come when he refuses to listen.”

  “Understood,” Cade said.

  Catrin’s shoulders relaxed. Goronwy managed to catch her eye and nodded encouragingly.

  “What is the mood of the men?” Cade said. “Perhaps you have a thought on that too.”

  “They are ready to fight,” she said. “They haven’t seen the Saxon force yet, of course, so that could change.”

  “And that means I must speak to Taliesin.” With a nod at them both, Cade strode away, back up to the fort.

  Cade hadn’t touched the food Catrin had brought, and now there was too much.

  “Stay and eat with me,” Goronwy said.

  “I would like that.” Catrin hitched herself onto the rampart beside her tray. “Angharad and I have been run off our feet in the kitchen.”

  Goronwy leaned against the wall. “It will get even busier up there once the fighting starts. We will need your healing skills then.”

  Catrin bowed her head in acceptance. “It would be an honor to assist in any way I can.” She turned her head to look where Cade had gone. “He is a ruler whom a man could follow to the ends of the earth. As I understand you have.”

  “He’s married,” Goronwy said.

  Catrin choked on a swallow of mead. She spat and coughed until Goronwy had to clap her on the back to loosen her throat. “I’m fine,” she said—finally—laughing through her tears. “You mistake me. I have no designs on your lord.”

  Goronwy’s eyes narrowed. “Then what?”

  “You can learn much of what you need to know about a man by the lord he chooses to follow.” Catrin spoke with that disconcerting frankness that had marked her from the first moment they’d met. “You, Dafydd, Taliesin …”

  As she said Taliesin’s name, Catrin jumped lightly down. Then, she spun on her heel to march away, back towards the fort.

  Goronwy had to smile. Taliesin. While Goronwy was pleased he was such a good judge of his fellow man—or woman, rather—he almost felt sorry for Taliesin. He had no idea what he was in for.

  Chapter Three

  Rhiann

  Rhiann had ridden the whole way from Dinas Bran with fear at her heels, terrified that she wouldn’t reach Caer Fawr before the Saxons did. The worst thing in the world would be to watch from a distant hill as enemies slaughtered her people. Not that she could be the one to save them, but if they were going to die, perversely, she wanted to be with them. Besides, she didn’t believe it was going to happen. Cade was too good a commander, and his men had promised to come.

  She and the three men she’d brought with her, including the garrison captain, Alun, crested the last rise before Caer Fawr and pulled up. The moon lit the sky from horizon to horizon. The mountains of Wales lay to the west but more were below, for Caer Fawr sat on a lonely hilltop, with the Severn Plain and the Breidden hills in the distance to the southeast.

  Cade had told her that a spring precipitated from the peak and flowed
down the hill near the west entrance to the fort. That was the one for which she and her companions would aim.

  “They come.” Alun pointed with one finger. Torches massed in the distance to the east. It could only be the Saxon army. She wasn’t quite too late.

  “But why?” Rhiann said. “Caer Fawr is impregnable. Even they should know that.”

  “They don’t know mountains, do they?” Alun said. “Maybe they hope to starve us out.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Penda, though, does it?” Rhiann said. “Cade has studied Penda’s victories. Aggression is his trademark, although he hans’t been above treachery and assassination too.”

  Alun had fought with her father and his Saxon allies before Cadfael’s death and knew what she was talking about. He barked a laugh. “Penda is more likely to favor a frontal assault.”

  It was nice to laugh, even in the face of the Saxon army. Rhiann didn’t know how many men Penda had, couldn’t begin to count them, but it was surely thousands. She hadn’t understood the scale of what the Welsh were facing. Cade had known, if only because his own father had fought among the Saxons for so many years.

  Then again, so had hers.

  Rhiann and Alun gazed east, gauging the distance between Caer Fawr and the Saxon force. “They seem to be resting where they are, but I predict they’ll move at first light,” Alun said. “The Saxons will reach us by noon.”

  “We’ll be ready.”

  Then, as they’d descended from the hills, the hundreds of men who filled the valley Caer Fawr guarded came into view. Cade might not have the thousands upon whom the Saxons could draw—but maybe he had enough. Rhiann’s heart lifted.

  The sun was just peaking over the eastern horizon when Rhiann and her companions made their way through the men camped to the west and behind the fort and up the hill to the hall. Most of the flags sported the crest of Madog of Powys and his son Rhys. But Tudur’s flag was there, and Hywel’s. Men ran back and forth from the fort to the encampment, shouting at each other.