He said nothing, drinking in the sight of her as a man who has been thirsty for long and long will drink a draught of clear, cool water. Then he smiled, then he grinned, and then he grabbed her and swung her around in wild abandon. Then Dafydd Penfro and Achren were there, demanding their turn to greet her.
After the tumult died down a little Rhoram said, “Come. You two shall sit at my table.” He took her hand and then grabbed Gwen’s hand and led them up to his table. People she knew called greetings to her. She flushed and smiled and returned their greetings as best she could.
As she neared the table Queen Efa stood stiffly. As though this happened every day Rhoram calmly said, “My dear, you remember Rhiannon ur Hefeydd?”
“I do indeed,” Efa said, her voice cold. “You are welcome here in my hall.”
In her hall. Oh, yes. Rhiannon donned a honeyed smile and said sweetly, “How kind of you. I hardly dared think I would find such a warm welcome here.”
“Yes, strange isn’t it?” Efa replied, with a smile as poisonously false as Rhiannon’s own. “Come, we shall squeeze you both in somehow.”
After some shifting Rhiannon and Gwen sat among the company. Efa was on Rhoram’s right, but Rhiannon sat on his left. Gwen sat directly across from her father between Sanon and Geriant. The three young people had their heads together, talking swiftly. Where had Gwen been all this time? What was it like to live in a cave?
Queen Efa ate little and said less. But Dafydd Penfro, obedient to Rhoram’s sharp look, was attentive to the Queen; and eventually even Efa relaxed a little.
Achren leaned forward and asked Gwen if she knew how to hunt. “Mam taught me some, and I’m pretty good with a spear,” Gwen answered.
“Know anything about swords?” Achren asked.
“No.”
“Want to learn?”
“Oh, yes,” Gwen said, her face shining. “I’d love to.”
“Achren,” Efa said coolly, “I hardly think that this is a proper thing to teach an eleven-year-old girl.”
“Why not? She should know how to defend herself, don’t you think?” It was hard to tell just what Achren might have meant by that, but her dislike of the Queen was clear.
Rhoram stepped into the breach. “Sanon doesn’t much care for it herself. But you and Geriant should have a fine old time. Achren taught him, too. And I have a few tricks to teach.”
Achren snorted. “Nothing you didn’t learn from me.”
“Ha! You talk as though I never win when we duel.”
“I let you win, sometimes, to cheer you, “Achren grinned.
“You see, daughter,” Rhoram said to Gwen with a mock grimace, “an old man is not respected in his own house. It’s terribly sad, isn’t it?”
“You’re not old,” Gwen protested. “Or, well, not very, anyway.”
Everyone laughed at that, for Gwen’s qualifying statement was said with a great deal of earnestness. Gwen blushed, but the laughter was friendly, and she was not ashamed, only startled.
“I must talk to you,” Rhiannon whispered urgently to Rhoram under cover of the laughter. Rhoram acted as though he hadn’t heard her. He leaned forward, “How about a song, Sanon? Maybe you and Gwen both know some of the same tunes?”
Sanon leapt up, grabbing Gwen’s hand. “Come on. We’ll think of something.”
“Geriant, keep an eye on them will you?”
“Sure, Da,” Geriant said good-naturedly, and ambled after the girls who had scampered over to the hearth.
Rhoram glanced at Dafydd Penfro. Rising, Dafydd offered his arm to the Queen. “Shall we get a good place for the show?” Efa nodded and reluctantly allowed him to lead her to a chair before the hearth.
“Come,” Rhoram said to Rhiannon. They slipped out of the hall, stopping just outside the doors. They heard the sweet voices of Sanon and Gwen raised in song.
I have been a multitude of shapes
Before I assumed a constant form.
I have been a sword.
I have been a tear in the air.
Rhoram turned to her and took her hands in his. He kissed them gently. “How long will you stay?”
“I can’t. I can’t stay at all. I must go. Tonight.” The words came with difficulty, but she said them. She had promised.
Rhoram stared at her. “Is it—is it something I have done? Have I made you uncomfortable here?”
She laughed, a little wildly. Uncomfortable? Oh, gods, he had no idea.
“What did Gwydion ap Awst say to you?” he demanded.
“He said he needed my help. So,” she went on, taking a deep breath, “I go from here to Caer Dathyl to see him and take up my task. And I’m leaving Gwen here.”