The Bard took a seat nonchalantly on the bed, and patted the place beside him. “Sit here, my dear,” he said to the woman. “It’s safe—I’m old enough to be your father.”
The woman smiled. “Except that my father’s not so handsome,” she teased, as she settled herself next to him. Angharad took up a position next to the door.
“I believe you know everyone here?” Angharad said dryly.
Gwydion bowed, “Talhearn ap Coleas, the Queen’s Bard and Regan ur Corfil, the Queen’s Dewin. Or, the Queen’s official Dewin at any rate. I fear you have competition. I met him this afternoon.”
“Gwydion ap Awst,” Regan asked frowning, “why have you come here?”
“Everyone keeps asking me that,” he complained. “But I have some questions for you. Such as why the Queen’s Bard, Dewin, and Captain have to sneak into my room to speak to me. Why there is a guard outside my door. That sort of thing.”
“Gwydion,” Angharad said wearily, “You heard the Queen’s command. You are to stay out of her sight until the festival. You are the one who insisted on staying.”
“You’ve seen Llwyd Cilcoed. I assume you noticed the kind of hold he has over the Queen?” Talhearn asked.
“Ah, yes. I did notice, thank you.”
“Llwyd Cilcoed is making things difficult here for everyone,” Regan said. “As the Queen’s lover, he has some power, but it’s not enough for him. He seeks to undermine Olwen’s trust in each of us that he may be the only one to hold sway with her. But the Master Bard has told Talhearn, and I have been told by my Ardewin to give you whatever aid you need in your task. Thus we must speak to you, but only in private, so that Llwyd Cilcoed does not get wind of it and misrepresent us to Olwen.”
“Don’t make a mistake, here, Gwydion,” Angharad warned. “These two, as well as Iago, our Druid, will support you in any way they can. But they will not go against Olwen’s express orders. Nor will I. We are loyal to our Queen—not to you.”
“By the way,” Talhearn said curiously, before Gwydion could respond, “What exactly is your task?”
Gwydion sighed. “I’m looking for Rhiannon ur Hefeydd.”
“Have you tried asking Dudod?” Talhearn asked.
“Anieron has sent for him. Do you really think he knows?”
“Oh, yes. The only trick will be in persuading Dudod to tell you.”
“I’m hoping that Anieron’s taking care of that. I also need Olwen to lend me your aid, Angharad.”
“Aid with what?” she asked, suspiciously.
“I cannot say at this time.”
“She’ll never agree,” Regan said.
“I think she will,” Gwydion replied confidently.
“Gwydion,” Angharad said abruptly, “Is there nothing that will get you to leave?”
“Angharad, I won’t be hustled out of Dinmael and that’s that.”
Regan turned to Angharad. “Is he always this stupid?” she asked.
“He’s a man, Regan. They are all that stupid,” Angharad replied.
“Does this mean you don’t want to stay the night?” Gwydion inquired innocently.
“Ha, ha,” Angharad said flatly.
“I’m beginning to think you don’t like me anymore. There was a time—”
“Now you listen to me, Gwydion ap Awst. You will stay here until the festival tomorrow night. You are not to leave this room unless I am with you.” Angharad jerked her head at Talhearn and Regan. “Come on.”
As they piled into the wardrobe and out through the hidden door, Gwydion halted Angharad. “You sure you won’t stay?” he asked with a grin.
“Good night,” she said flatly, but Gwydion thought he saw her hide a smile.
Calan Olau—evening
THE NEXT EVENING Angharad returned to take him to the festival. Silently she motioned for him to follow. Her lieutenant, Emrys, fell in behind him. As they walked out of the gates and down the road to the grove, Regan and Talhearn, each carrying a torch, joined them, one on each side of Gwydion. It was Tywyllu, the week of the new moon, so the night was especially dark and the stars shone overhead like diamonds, cold and hard.
They were silent as they walked. Like ghosts, like shadows, they made their way through the aspen trees into the huge clearing in the center of the grove.
The clearing was full, with hundreds of people waiting to celebrate the festival. An unlit bonfire made of rowan wood was laid out in the center. At the north end stood a large stone altar, on its surface a silver platter holding a loaf of bread and a small mother-of-pearl bowl filled with grain. Around the altar eight unlit torches were set in brackets.