Merlin pc-2 Page 11

  'How can you trade with them?' he asked angrily, snapping a stick with his hands and throwing it into the fire. 'You know what they are like.'

  Obricus had heard it before. He replied mildly, 'They are men. They have needs. I sell to whoever will buy. It is not the merchant's place to decide which man is enemy and which is friend. Half the tribes of this fly-blown island are the enemy of the other half most of the time anyway. Alliances change with the seasons; loyalties ebb and flow with the tide.'

  'It will be your head on a stake, and your skin nailed to the gate. Then you will know who your friends are.'

  'If they kill me, they kill their only source of salt and copper and cloth. I am more valuable alive.' He hefted the leather purse at his side. 'Silver is silver and gold is gold. I sell to whoever will buy.'

  Gwendolau remained unconvinced, but said no more of it.

  'I have been in the north for a while,' I said, 'and would be grateful for any news of the south.'

  Obricus pursed his lips and stabbed at the fire. 'Well, the south is as ever. Healthy. Strong. There have been raids, of course, as everywhere else; there are always raids.' He paused, remembering, then said, 'Last year there was a council in Londinium – a few kings, lords, and magistrates came together to talk about their problems. The governor met with them, and also the vicarius, although he is senile and from what I hear sleeps most of the time.'

  'Was anything decided?'

  Obricus barked a laugh and shook his head. 'Oh, impressive decisions!'

  'Such as?'

  'It was decided that Rome should send more gold to pay the troops; that the Emperor should come himself to see how terrible and dangerous the situation is here; that more men and arms should be made available for our defence; that signal stations along the south-east coast should be increased; that the garrisons on the Wall should be repaired and remanned, that warships should be built and crewed…

  'In short, that the sky should cloud up and rain denarii over us for a year and a day.' The merchant sighed. 'The days of Rome are over. Look not to the East, lad, our Imperial Mother loves her children no more.'

  The next day we reached Mamucium, now little more than a wide place where the road divides, one part turning west to Deva, the other bending away south and east, ending eventually in Londinium. There we parted company with the merchant Obricus and continued on into Gwynedd.

  The journey should have taken six days. It took many times longer. What with the rain and icy sleet in the high bleak hills it is a wonder we made it at all. But my companions were stalwart men and did not complain of the hardship. For that, I was grateful. Although it had been Ganieda's idea, I still felt responsible for them, for their comfort and safety.

  At Deva, the old Caer Legionis of the north, we asked after my people. No one knew anything about a missing boy or anyone looking for one. We bought provisions and continued on into the mountains, striking south, rather than north through Diganhwy and Caer Seiont. It was further to Yr Widdfa, but the road was better and we could search the many-fingered glens and valleys along the way.

  Nine days out from Deva the snow caught us. We stayed in a glen near a stream and waited until the sky cleared again. But by the time the sun shone once more the snow was up to the horses' hocks and Gwendolau reckoned that any more searching was useless.

  'We cannot find them now, Myrddin, nor anyone else until spring comes. Besides, they will have gone back by now, so there is no point.'

  I had to agree with him. 'You must have known it would turn out like this. Why did you come?'

  I can still see his quick smile. 'The truth?'

  'Always.'

  'Ganieda wanted it.'

  'You did this for Ganieda?'

  'And for you.'

  'But why? I am nothing to you – a stranger who slept one night in.your father's house.'

  His eyes were merry. 'You must be something more than that to Ganieda. All else aside, I would have done it anyway if my father asked. But now that I know you better, I can say that I would have it no other way.'

  'Be that as it may, I free you from your errand. I will continue south alone. You may still return home before -'

  Gwendolau shook his head and slapped me on the back. 'It is too late, Myrddin, my brother. We have no choice but to continue. I have heard that it does not snow so much in the south, and I am determined to prove this for myself.'

  Very well, as I did not greatly relish the prospect of wending my cold way alone, I let them come with me. Later that very day, we turned our horses south and did not look back. Suffice to say that the journey to Maridunum was nothing like that of three years before – half a lifetime before, it seemed to me then.

  It was mean and miserable going. There were no roads, Roman or otherwise, through wild Cymry and we lost count of time on the trail – sometimes taking a whole day to traverse a single snow-bound valley, or surmount a lonely, frost-bitten ridge. The days grew shorter, and we rode more often than not in darkness – and in icy, flesh-numbing rain. Gwendolau's good humour carried us on long after Baram and I were too cold and exhausted to care whether we took another step. And though the high mountain passes were choked with snow, we somehow managed to find an alternate route when one was needed and so came at long last into Dyfed, the land of the Demetae.

  I will never forget riding into Maridunum. The town glistened under a pall of new-fallen snow, and the stark trees stretched like black, skeleton hands against a pewter sky. It was late in the afternoon and we could feel the night air settling blue and hard around us. But within me a fire burned bright, for I had returned: three years late, it is true; nevertheless, I had returned.

  I hoped that Maelwys was at home. I knew we would be welcome anyway, but I desperately wanted to see him to ask after my mother and the rest of my people, to learn what had happened in my long absence.

  We rode through the empty streets of the town and followed the trail up to the villa. We were not surprised to find horses standing in the yard, for we had followed their tracks up the hill. As we came into the yard two servants with torches came from the hall to tend to the horses there. We hailed them as we dismounted.

  'We have journeyed far to see Lord Maelwys,' I told them. 'Is he within?'

  They came to meet us, holding the torches high and peering into our faces. 'Who is it that asks?'

  Tell him that Myrddin is here.'

  The two looked at one another. 'Do we know you?'

  'Perhaps you do not know me, but Maelwys does. Tell him the son of Taliesin waits without and would see him.'

  'Myrddin ap Taliesin!' The foremost servant's eyes grew round. He shoved his companion away. 'Go! Hurry!'

  There followed an awkward interval while we waited for the servant to come back. He never did. For while we waited beneath the torch, the door of the hall was heaved open and people came streaming out of the hall into the foreyard, Maelwys leading them all.

  He stood for a moment, gazing at me. 'Myrddin, we have been waiting for you… '

  Maelwys held me at arm's length and I saw the tears. I had expected a warm reception, but… the King of Dyfed crying for my return? That exceeded any expectations I might have had, and I knew no way to account for it. I had met the man only once.

  'Merlin… ' The press of curious onlookers parted and Maelwys stepped away. The voice belonged to Charis, who stood in a halo of light from the doorway; tall, regal, a slim tore of gold around her throat and her hair in a hanging braid after the fashion of highborn Demetae women. Her white silk gown was long and her blue cloak richly embroidered. I had never seen her looking more a queen. She stepped towards me, then opened her arms wide and I flew into her embrace.

  'Merlin… oh, my little Hawk, my son… so long… I have waited so long… ' Her tears were warm on my neck.

  'Mother -' There were tears in my throat and eyes as well; I had not dared hope to find her here. 'Mother… I wanted to come sooner, I would have come sooner… '

  'Shh, not now. Yo
u are here and safe… safe… I knew you would come back. I knew you would find a way… you are here… here, my Merlin.' She put a hand to my face and kissed me tenderly, then took my hand. We might have been the only people in the yard. 'Come inside. Warm yourself. Are you hungry, son?'

  'We have not eaten well for two days.'

  Maelwys stepped close. 'There is venison inside, and bread, and mead. Come in, everyone come inside! We will drink to the wanderer's return! Tomorrow we will celebrate with a feast!'

  We were swept into the hall, aglow with torches and a roaring fire on the hearth, where the table was laid and the meal already begun. Another table was hastily prepared and platters of food produced. My mother kept my hand clasped tightly in hers, and I felt the anxiety I had lived with for the last many months begin to melt in the light and joy of reunion, even as the warmth of the hall seeped into my bones.

  Gwendolau and Baram were not overlooked. I had no worry for them; they fell in naturally with Maelwys' men. Indeed, in my joy at being home once more I soon forgot all about them.

  Old Pendaran, Maelwys' father, rose from his throne-like chair to greet me, saying, 'I cannot see where your wandering has hurt you at all. You look a healthy young man – lean and strong, keen-eyed as your namesake bird, lad. Come to me later and we will discuss certain matters.'

  It was not likely that my mother would let me out of her sight for a moment that night, nor for many days to come. But I assured him that we would talk soon. 'There is much to say, Merlin,' said Charis. 'I have so much to tell you, but now that you are here I can remember none of it.'

  'We are together. Nothing else matters now.'

  A great platter of meat and bread addressed me, and a horn of mead. I sipped the warm liquid and began to eat. 'You have grown, my son. The last time I saw you -' Her voice faltered and she dropped her eyes. 'Eat. You are hungry. I have waited this long, I can wait a little longer.'

  After a few bites, I forgot my hunger and turned to her. She was watching me as if she had never seen me before. 'Have I changed so much?'

  'Yes and no. You are no longer the boy you were, true. But you are my son and I will always see you the same, come what may.' She squeezed my hand. 'It is so good to have you here with me once more.'

  'If you knew how often I thought of this moment in the last three years – '

  'And if you knew how many nights I lay awake thinking of you, wondering where you were, what you were doing.'

  'I wept for the worry I caused you. I prayed for a way to reach you. That's why, when Elac saw the searchers in the valley, I sent my clothes, and the broken arrow. I meant it as a sign.'

  'Oh, I took it as more than a sign, as confirmation. I knew you were alive and well -'

  'How?'

  'In the same way I would have known if you had been hurt or killed. A mother, I believe, can always tell. When they brought me your clothes I knew – even though the men who found them did not want to show me the bundle. They thought it meant that you were dead; the bhean sidhe had killed you and were taunting your friends, or some such thing. I knew otherwise. I knew you must have had good reason to do what you had done.' She paused and sighed. 'What happened, Merlin? We came back for you. We searched. We found the waterskins, found where you had huddled in the fog… What happened?'

  And so I began to tell her about all that had taken place since that strange night. I talked and she listened to every word, and the distance between us simply shrank away to nothing, so that in the end it seemed almost as if I had never been away at all.

  I must have talked long into the night, for when I finished everyone else had gone and the torches in their sconces were guttering out and the fire on the hearth was a heap of red embers.

  'I have talked the night away,' I told her. 'But there is still so much to tell.'

  'And I will hear it. But I have been selfish – you are tired from your journey. Come, you must rest now. We will talk again tomorrow." She leaned forward in her chair and hugged me for a long time. When she released me she kissed my cheek and said, 'How many times have I wanted to do that?'

  We stood, and she led me from the hall to the chamber that had been made ready for me. I kissed her once more. 'I love you, too, Mother. Forgive me for causing you such pain.'

  She smiled. 'Sleep well, Merlin my son. I love you, and I am happy you have come home.'

  I went into my room then and slept like the dead.

  TEN

  Maelwys was better than his word, for the next day there was indeed a feast. The servants began preparing the hall as soon as we had broken fast. Maelwys and Chads and I sat before the hearth in our chairs and talked about all that had taken place in my absence – until the doors of the hall were opened and some of the serving girls came running in from the snow outside, laughing, their arms full of holly and green ivy. They proceeded to plait the holly and ivy together and then draped it around the hall – hanging it above the doors and torch sconces.

  Their happy chatter distracted us, and when I asked what they were about, Maelwys laughed and said, 'Have you forgotten what day it is?'

  'Well, it is not long past midwinter's – what day is it?' 'Why, it is the day of the Christ Mass. It has become the custom of this house to observe the holy days. We celebrate tonight – your return, and the birth of die Saviour God.'

  'Yes,' agreed Charis, 'and there is a surprise in it for you: Dafyd is coming to perform the mass. He will be overjoyed to see you. His prayers have not ceased since he learned of your disappearance.'

  'Dafyd coming here?' I wondered. 'But that is a far distance to come. He may not make it at all.'

  Maelwys answered. 'Not so far. He has begun building an abbey but a half-day's ride from this very place. He will be here.'

  'Is the shrine at Ynys Avallach empty once more?' The thought did not cheer me. I loved the little round building with its high narrow, cross-shaped window. It was a most holy place; my soul always felt at peace there.

  Charis shook her head lightly. 'By no means. Collen is there and two others with him. Maelwys offered Dafyd lands for a chapel here and an abbey nearby if he would come and build them.'

  The work is nearly complete,' announced Maelwys proudly. 'The first of his brood will begin arriving with the spring planting.'

  A thought passed between Maelwys and Charis, and the king rose from his chair. 'Excuse me, Myrddin; I must attend to the preparations for this evening's celebration.' He paused, beaming at me. 'By the Light of Heaven, it is good to see you again – it is this much like seeing your father.'

  With that, he was off on his errands. 'He is a good friend to us, Merlin,' observed my mother, watching him stride across the hall.

  Indeed, I never doubted it. But her words seemed offered as an excuse.

  'That is true,' I allowed.

  'And he loved your father… ' Her voice had changed, becoming softer, almost apologetic.

  'True again.' I watched her face for a clue to the meaning of her words.

  'I did not have the heart to hurt him. You must understand. And I admit that I was lonely. You were gone so long – missing so long. I stayed here the first winter after you were taken… it seemed right, and Maelwys is so happy… '

  'Mother, what are you saying?' I had already guessed.

  'Maelwys and I were married last year.' She watched me for my reaction.

  Hearing her say the words, I felt the uncanny sensation that it had happened before, or that I had known it from the first. Perhaps that night when I had glimpsed her in the flames of Gern-y-fhain's fire I knew it. I nodded, feeling a tightness in my chest. 'I understand,' I told her.

  'He wanted it, Merlin. I could not hurt him. Because of me, he never took a wife, hoping that one day… '

  'Are you happy?' I asked.

  She was silent some moments. 'I am content,' she said at last. 'He loves me very much.'

  'I see.'

  'Still, there is happiness to be found in contentment.' She looked away and her voice br
oke. 'I have never stopped loving Taliesin, and I never will. But I have not betrayed

  him, Merlin; I want you to understand. In my way, I have remained true to your father. It is not for myself that I do this; it is for Maelwys.'

  'You owe me no explanations or apologies.' 'It is good to be loved by someone – even if you cannot return that love completely. I am fond of Maelwys, but Talie-sin has my heart always. Maelwys understands.' She nodded once to underscore that fact. 'I told you he was a good man.' 'I know that.'

  'You are not angry?' She turned back, searching me with her eyes. Her hair shone in the soft winter light, and her eyes were large and, at that moment, full of uncertainty. It could not have been easy for her to do what she had done. But I felt that there was a lightness to it.

  'How should I be angry? Anything that brings such happiness cannot be a bad thing. Let love increase – is that not what Dafyd says?'

  She smiled sadly. 'You sound like Taliesin. That is just what he would have said.' She dropped her eyes and a tear squeezed from beneath her lashes. 'Oh, Merlin, sometimes I miss him so much… so very much."

  I reached for her hand. 'Tell me about the Kingdom of Summer.' She looked up. 'Please, it has been so long since I heard you tell it, Mother. I want to hear you say the words again.'

  She nodded and straightened in her chair, closed her eyes and waited for a moment in silence for memory to return, then began to recite the words I had heard from the time I was a babe in arms.

  'There is a land shining with goodness where each man protects his brother's dignity as his own, where war and want have ceased and all races live under the same law of love and honour.

  'It is a land bright with truth, where a man's word is his pledge, and falsehood is banished, where children sleep safe in their mothers' arms and never know fear or pain. It is a land where kings extend their hands in justice rather than reach for the sword; where mercy, kindness and compassion flow like deep water over the land, and men revere virtue, revere truth, revere beauty, above comfort, pleasure, or selfish gain. A land where peace reigns in the hearts of men, where faith blazes like a beacon from every hill, and love like a fire from every hearth, where the True God is worshipped and his ways acclaimed by all…