“I will allow you to go with us only as far as Naid Ronwen, the first battlefield we must visit. If—and only if—your presence is required to see what we need to see, then you may accompany us to the other battlefields.”
Amatheon nodded and opened his mouth to speak. But Gwydion raised his hand and Amatheon was silenced. “Furthermore,” he went on, “you must leave us at my command.”
“But—” Amatheon began.
“At my command. I require your promise.”
The room was silent as Amatheon thought it over. It was a moment Gwydion would remember for years to come for it seemed to him that not only were the people in the room silent, all of Kymru was hushed and still, waiting to hear what Amatheon would decide.
At last, Amatheon agreed, “I promise.”
“Then so be it,” Gwydion said the words like ashes in his mouth. “Brother.”
Chapter Seventeen
Commote Creuddyn and Naid Ronwen Kingdom of Gwynedd, Kymru Ysgawen and Collen Mis, 494
Meriwydd, Cynyddu Wythnos—noon
After four days of traveling east they reached commote Creuddyn. To the south the forest of Coed Dulas shimmered in the distance, crowned with leaves of flame—the blazing scarlet of the rowan, the oak and the hawthorn and the shimmering gold of the aspen and the birch mingled in fiery harmony.
Cai thoughtfully scanned the horizon. They were nearing River Mawddoch, though they could not yet see it over the Earth’s curve. Low-rocked walls divided portions of the gently swelling hills that stretched out before them. The walls were covered with yellow corydalis that crept through gaps in the stones. Shrubs of yellow bush cinquefoil dotted the ground and red snapdragons waved gently in the cool breeze.
“Who oversees this land?” Trystan asked, turning a little in his saddle to speak to Cai, who rode at the rear of the party.
“The Gwarda is Diadwa ur Trephin,” Cai answered.
“Well-liked?” Achren asked from up ahead. “No trouble?”
“Fair-handed would be the most accurate description,” Cai replied. “But in terms of trouble—well, Uthyr could tell you more about that.”
“Meaning?” Angharad inquired.
“Meaning that she has been arguing with Uthyr for several years over a patch of land between Creuddyn and Uwch Dulas, the commote to the north. Seems she is convinced that the land belongs to Creuddyn, while the Gwarda of Uwch Dulas strongly disagrees.”
“Why doesn’t Uthyr just rule on it, then?” Amatheon asked curiously. “Stop the argument.”
“He did,” Cai said, with a grin. “But Diadwa didn’t like the outcome. Uthyr gets a letter about that every week.”
“She sounds painful,” Gwydion said absently, but his eyes cut to Rhiannon, who rode beside him.
“I saw that look, Gwydion,” Rhiannon said coldly. “Go ahead and say it—you won’t be happy until you do.”
“Say what?” Gwydion asked with wide-eyed innocence.
“Go ahead and say that she’s painful because she’s a woman. Go ahead and say that all women are.”
“Why, Rhiannon, I’m surprised at you,” Gwydion said. “How could you talk about your fellow women like that?”
“Want me to shoot him?” Achren asked Rhiannon, gesturing to the bow strapped to the side of her horse’s saddle.
“We’d be happy to,” Angharad put in, baring her teeth in a smile. “Just give the word.”
“Company,” Cai said, nodding toward the horizon.
A band of men sat motionless on their horses at the top of one of the distant hills. The man at the head of the pack lifted his arm and motioned the horsemen forward; the band galloped swiftly toward them.
“Thieves?” Trystan inquired calmly, loosening his bow as both Achren and Angharad did the same.
Cai rode up next to Gwydion at the head of the party and squinted ahead. “I think not. I believe they wear Diadwa’s badge.”
“I have no wish to be detained, Cai,” Gwydion said shortly.
“No doubt. But detained we will be.”
“We’re in a hurry,” Gwydion insisted.
“And Diadwa is one of Uthyr’s Gwardas,” Cai answered. “And must not be offended. Come, Gwydion, I know my own people. If we can avoid being sidetracked, we will. If not—” Cai shrugged. “Things could be worse.”
“Don’t be churlish, Gwydion,” Rhiannon said sharply. “Besides, a regular bed would be a nice change. Since you won’t let us invoke the Law of Hospitality and instead make us sleep on the cold ground every night—”
“We’ve just started our journey,” Gwydion pointed out coolly. “A little early to complain, isn’t it?”