Ygraine gazed at her husband, tears in her eyes. She swallowed hard, and placed her other hand on top of his. She nodded slightly, but did not speak. Uthyr lightly touched her face, then stood. “When?” he asked Gwydion.
“When Susanna and Arthur go to Gwytheryn for the graduation ceremonies I shall go with them, to talk to Myrrdin. Three months from now I will return here, and take Arthur with me to the village where Myrrdin will be waiting.”
“Three months,” Ygraine said in a toneless voice.
“I’m sorry, Ygraine. But the sooner the better.”
“I just had a thought,” Uthyr said. “What about the Plentyn Prawf? How can we excuse Arthur not being tested publicly?”
“Oh, he will be,” Gwydion said easily.
“But you just said—”
“Leave that to Susanna and I. Arthur will be tested this afternoon like everyone else. And his test will show that he has no special talents.”
“But how?” Ygraine asked.
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just say that I will be assisting Susanna very closely this afternoon. And leave it at that.”
LATER THAT AFTERNOON, the children of Tegeingl were tested by Susanna, assisted closely by Gwydion ap Awst. In an unusual move, Susanna handed the tool to Gwydion to hold after each test was completed as she spoke gently to each child. Two clairvoyants and one telepath were identified, but Prince Arthur proved to have no special talents.
Nobody noticed that Greid, the chief smith of Gwynedd, watched the Plentyn Prawf with a quizzical look on his face. But some people did comment that Gwydion ap Awst must have been mad to wear long sleeves in such hot weather.
No remarked, for no one there knew, that the Dreamer of Kymru had always been good at sleight of hand.
Chapter Five
Cadair Idris and Y Ty Dewin Gwytheryn, Kymru Draenenwen Mis, 486
Gwyntdydd, Disglair Wythnos—mid-afternoon
It was a small party that left Tegeingl a few weeks later; just Gwydion, Arthur, Susanna and Cai. Susanna left her baby son behind with his father, Griffi, and, although Gwydion tried to ignore it, he was aware of Susanna’s anguish. He had felt it himself when he left Cariadas behind at Caer Dathyl. He tried not to think too closely about how this would be nothing to what Uthyr and Ygraine would feel just a few months from now.
Arthur, young as he was, had proven himself to be his father’s son. Every day he rode stoically on his small pony. Weary with travel, he fell asleep each night right after dinner, while Gwydion stared into the campfire each night, trying not to remember the look in his brother’s eyes at the news that his son was to be taken from him.
Four days from Tegeingl they reached Gwytheryn, the High King’s country located in the center of Kymru. When they came to the junction of Sarn Gwyddelin and Sarn Ermyn they turned eastward, making for Caer Duir, where the first of the three annual graduation ceremonies would be held. The route they were taking would lead them just past Cadair Idris, the shuttered mountain fortress of the High Kings of Kymru.
In mid-afternoon they exited the forest of Coed Llachar and reined in their horses to gaze in wonder at the mountain that loomed above them. The fortress rose majestically from the sea of wildflowers that covered the plain. Purple cornflowers, blue delphiniums, white snapdragons, and bright yellow tansy waved gently in the light breeze. Daisies and golden globeflowers bent and twisted under the hooves of their horses. The breeze sighed in remembrance of loss and sorrow, of loneliness and failure, of the death of dreams. But the mountain itself seemed to reach up and pierce the sky, as wild hope pierces the heart, and sets it to beating again.
To the east of the mountain the standing stones of Galor Carreg, the burial mounds of the High Kings, rose from the carpet of wildflowers, dark and silent. In their depths rested the bodies of Idris, the first High King and his High Queen, Elen of the Roads. Macsen, the second Brenin, also rested there, as well as Lleu Silver-Hand, the last High King of Kymru.
White alyssum and red rock rose twined over the once white stones of the eight steps leading up to Drwys Idris, the huge Doors that guarded the silent mountain, opening only at will of the Guardian. And the Guardian would open only to the one who brought her the lost Four Treasures of Kymru—the Cauldron, the Stone, the Spear, and the Sword. These Treasures would test a person who claimed kingship. And, if he survived the testing, he would be acknowledged as High King.
Gwydion glanced to his right, where Susanna and Cai had reined in, Arthur between them. The boy seemed even smaller and frailer within the dark shadow of the mountain. “Do you know what this is?” Gwydion asked him.
Arthur nodded. “Cadair Idris.”