Trystan rose and planted his hands on the table, his smile gone. “And do not make the mistake of thinking that I won’t hurt a woman,” Trystan said. “If you annoy me further you will find that out for sure.”
“Don’t even think about it, Trystan,” Angharad said, her green eyes flashing. “If you take her on you take me on as well.”
Cai rose at that. “I hardly think that this is constructive,” he began.
But the three other captains turned on him as one. “Shut up!” they exclaimed.
At that, Cai’s face hardened and his brows drew together. In a dangerously quiet tone he said, “Do not even consider angering me. You would not want to see what happens if you do.”
Finally, with a sigh, Gwydion rose, the last one of them to have remained seated. “While this has been very amusing, perhaps if you gave me a few moments of your precious time we could accomplish something.” He did not raise his voice, yet they all slowly sank back into their seats nonetheless.
“Now,” he said when they were all seated and the room was silent, “let me tell you—” But what he saw in the doorway halted him, and the words died on his lips. The others swiveled in their chairs to face the doorway, and Gwydion noted dimly that each of the Captains had their hands on their daggers. A formidable group indeed.
But the figure in the doorway raised his hands in mock surrender. “I give up,” Amatheon said, pretending to cringe in fear.
“Amatheon!” Gwydion exploded. “What in the name of the Shining Ones are you doing here?”
“Interesting question,” Amatheon said as he sauntered into the room. “One I would like an answer to as much as you.” He bowed to Rhiannon and placed a kiss on her palm. “Welcome back, lady, to the land of the living.” Something in his voice, in his eyes, apparently put Rhiannon at ease and she did not take offense. Instead, she smiled faintly.
But before she could speak Gwydion rapidly crossed the room to stand before his younger brother. Amatheon wore riding leathers of silvery gray and his dark hair was pulled back and secured at the nape of his neck with a silver clasp. His Dewin’s torque of silver and a single pearl glittered at his throat. His blue eyes were weary with travel but he smiled at his brother.
“Amatheon,” Gwydion began his voice even but not concealing his anger, “what are you doing here?”
“I tell you, brother, I do not know. I know only that I had to come.”
“And I know only that you have to go!” Gwydion exclaimed.
“Not smart, Gwydion,” Rhiannon said.
Gwydion turned on her. If she was going to defend his brother—
“Even Amatheon does not know why he has come. If that is so, might he not have been called here by a power greater than you? There are powers greater than you, you know,” she said in an acerbic tone. “Or have you forgotten that?”
“I have not forgotten that,” Gwydion said between clenched teeth. “Very well, brother. Be seated.”
Amatheon pulled a chair to the table next to Rhiannon and smiled at her in a way that Gwydion did not like at all. He remembered that the two of them had gone to Y Ty Dewin together and had once been good friends.
“As I was saying before I was interrupted,” Gwydion said in a voice that would freeze fire, “let me tell you why I have asked you to come here. The Shining Ones have commanded me to find Caladfwlch, the sword of the High Kings of Kymru.”
He braced himself for the inevitable questions. For it was obvious that the sword was needed only because there would be a High King to wield it. Of those in the room there were four that knew who that High King was: Gwydion himself; Rhiannon, for she had stopped at Myrrdin’s hut and managed to piece together the truth; Amatheon, for he had been present the day of Arthur’s birth; and Cai, who had aided Gwydion the night he had taken Arthur away. But the other three, Achren, Trystan and Angharad had no idea who that High King was and Gwydion was sure they would ask.
But they did not. He waited for them to, however, until Achren said, “No, Gwydion, I am not going to ask who the High King is.”
“No point to that,” Angharad chimed in.
“Because you won’t tell us anyway,” Trystan said.
“Which is just like you,” said Cai, attempting to further conceal his knowledge.
“Well,” Gwydion said, clearing his throat, “in that case, I’ll just go on.”
“Please do,” Rhiannon invited him sweetly.
Gwydion scowled. “Some months ago I had a dream. And in that dream I saw a dragon, the symbol of the Dewin. And then I saw Bran, the Fifth Dreamer. Bran held out a book, and when I awoke I took that book and found in the lining a parchment that had been hidden there.” Gwydion picked up the parchment and read: