Night Birds' Reign(95)
As he neared Dinmael the salty air blew fresh against his face and he heard the pounding of the waves against the rocks. Dinmael was at the northern tip of a peninsula, surrounded by the sea to the east and north.
The city itself was built in the shape of a pentagon to honor Nantsovelta, Queen of the Moon and Lady of the Waters. He rode through the southern gate and passed Nemed Aethnen, the sacred grove. Tomorrow the festival of Calan Olau, to honor Mabon of the Sun, would be celebrated there. The aspen trees shivered as he rode by. He rode past Ty Meirw, the brooding standing stones under which the Rulers of Ederynion were buried.
Soon, too soon to suit him in his present mood, he rode up to the gate of the Queen’s fortress. The iron gate was covered in silver. A graceful white swan, outlined in pearls, was carved into the doors. Her wings were outstretched and her emerald eyes glittered balefully at him as he rode through.
A tall, slender woman with an unmistakable air of command halted him as soon as he was through the gate. Angharad, Queen Olwen’s Captain, the PenAethnen of Ederynion, wore sea green breeches tucked into white boots and a white undershirt beneath a sea green tunic. Her flaming red hair was braided into a crown at the top of her head. Her cheekbones were high and proud beneath light green eyes.
“Gwydion ap Awst, Dreamer of Kymru,” she said, her voice low and musical. “I bid you welcome to Dinmael on behalf of Olwen ur Custennin, Queen of Ederynion.”
“You are very formal, Angharad,” Gwydion replied, smiling. “Is this how you greet your friends?”
“No,” she said steadily. She refused to meet his gaze and crisply signaled for a groom to take his horse and for another servant to take his saddlebags. “You are to come with me. The Queen awaits you in her chambers.” Angharad turned then, signaling for Gwydion to follow.
“Angharad, what is this? What’s happened here?”
In a low voice, she continued, “Do as I bid you, Gwydion. I am under orders. Follow me and ask no more questions. I will come to you and explain when I can.” She marched off stiffly, Gwydion following.
As they came to the door of the ystafell, Angharad ushered him inside. When he first entered the room he was momentarily blinded, for the room was dim and the afternoon sun was bright outside. As his eyes adjusted, he noted that there was a bright green banner on the wall to his right, showing a white swan with outstretched wings stitched in silver and pearls. The thick carpet beneath his feet was woven of strips of sea green and white. Open cabinets lined the walls, filled with delicate glass works—colored goblets, plates rimmed with silver, graceful beakers, tiny bottles studded with jewels.
In a straight back chair before the hearth sat a young girl, no more than sixteen years of age. She had auburn hair and deep blue eyes. She wore a gown of sea green and around her throat she wore a silver chain with a single pearl dangling from it. This, without a doubt, was Elen ur Olwen, the Queen’s daughter and heir.
Queen Olwen sat stiffly upright in a chair canopied in white and sea green, stitched with pearls. Olwen wore a gown of white. There were pearls in her rich, auburn hair, woven within a net of sea green ribbons. Around her neck she wore the royal Torque of Ederynion—an imposing necklace of silver and pearls. A large pearl ring glowed softly on her right hand. Her amber eyes studied him coldly.
A man stood in the dim shadows behind the Queen’s chair. He had a proud and haughty face with dark brown hair and glittering brown eyes. Gwydion thought he looked familiar, but could not instantly place the man. Angharad had taken up a position next to Gwydion, between him and the door.
For a moment all was silent as Gwydion waited for Olwen to speak. At last she spoke her voice cold and hard. “Gwydion ap Awst, Dreamer of Kymru, what is your business here?”
No welcome, no gesture to sit down, no offer of food or drink. And he was tired. Remembering that Olwen despised familiarity, Gwydion smiled brilliantly and replied with feigned enthusiasm. “Ah, Olwen. I came because I knew I would find warmth and solace here in your presence. I could not stay away, for I longed for another glimpse of your kind and beautiful face. It has been too long.”
Next to him a choked sound, quickly cut off, told him what Angharad thought of his inane speech. He went on blithely, “And I heard how beautiful young Elen herself had become, the very image of her mother. And I see now that it is true.” He gave Elen a languishing glance and a graceful bow that made her sit up more stiffly than ever—and brought a touch of color to her pale face.
“Do you take the Queen for a fool?” the man behind Ol-wen’s chair hissed.
“Ah, you have the advantage of me, I fear,” Gwydion said in a jocular tone. “I cannot place you. But it’s so hard to see you, hiding behind the Queen.”