Gambit of the Glass Crowns: Vol. I of epic fantasy The Sundered Kingdoms Trilogy (28 page)

“More Álfar blood within you than any other.”

Memories flooded back to him of his parents. They had not taken him to Arlais merely to witness the festival. They took him there because they were to depart the world like those of Old. He was not certain why, or even how, he could have forgotten.

There were pieces, large pieces, of his memory that he had lost long ago, and now they seemed to be as clear as day. His father was one of the Álfar who fell in love with his mother, a Meïnir. When he felt the call to leave this world and could not resist, they chose to take Cairbre to Arlais, where he would be safe, with the last of the Álfar.

After his father had vanished into the winds, Cairbre’s mother gave herself to the forest, unable to bear the grief of living without her husband and knowing her son was well protected.

Cairbre wiped the tears from his eyes. “I had forgotten so many things from my past.”

“Your parents did not wish you to remember them, or perhaps you did not want to remember them.” Rhiannon truly was not certain why he had forgotten such things. Had he remembered everything from the start of his training as a priest, the power within him would not have been locked away for so long, emerging to the surface slowly as it had.

“I do not know.” Cairbre sighed before he cleared his throat. “Without you, I fear I will not have the strength to carry on the struggle. I fear I will not be able to keep our people together, to keep them safe.”

“Do not doubt yourself, Cairbre.” Rhiannon smiled. “You are so much stronger than you realize. You would not be the High Priest were it not true. Now that you have realized your true potential as the offspring of an Álfar, you must take comfort in that knowledge.”

“And what of Lady Ceridwen?”

“She carries a piece of myself within her. Even without it, however, I believe she would be strong enough to lead our people.” Rhiannon took his hand in hers. “So you see, even when I have gone, a part of me shall still dwell within Ceridwen. She will be the strength our people shall need, as will you.”

“She is so young.”

“True, but she has great strength within herself. More importantly, she has great compassion for not only our people, but the other races as well.”

Cairbre was comforted by her words. The doubts he had were swept away as she spoke. Knowing his own past was cathartic. It helped him understand why Rhiannon had chosen him, and Ceridwen as well.

“Have you spoken to her of your decision?” Cairbre looked to Rhiannon.

“Not as of yet.” She closed her eyes. “I am worried to speak to her of these matters.”

“Why?”

“She is still…” Rhiannon paused to catch her breath, to which Cairbre immediately took alarm.

“My Lady?” He reached out instinctively.

Cynan burst through the door, sword drawn. No man was granted permission to touch the Lady Rhiannon, not even the High Priest.

“It is all right, Cynan.” Rhiannon raised her hand.

He immediately halted his assault on Cairbre and slowly sheathed his sword, keeping a watchful gaze upon him.

“Please wait outside,” her voice was but a hoarse whisper.

He bowed his head before returning to his post.

“Forgive me, Lady.” Cairbre clasped his fingers together on his lap. “My actions sprung only from concern.”

“It is all right.”

“Perhaps we should discuss this at a later time, when you are more rested?” He had never seen Rhiannon gasp for air as she did so now.

“We must speak now. I shall soon be at rest, and there is much to be done in the forthcoming weeks before I leave this land.”

“You were speaking of why you have not spoken to Ceridwen about your plans,” Cairbre reminded.

“She is, as you said, very young. I also worry she believes her place to be elsewhere, and not at Arlais.”

“If she believes her place to be elsewhere, then should you not choose another successor?”

“No!” The strength in her voice returned. “For the future of Arlais, for our people, Ceridwen must take my place. In her heart, she knows her place is here, and I know that my concerns are for naught. But still, I worry these ten years she has been gone have not cured her wanderlust. Before the end, Ceridwen will hear Her call.”

“I shall trust in your judgement, Lady.” Cairbre knew Rhiannon could see many futures which he could not, and had foreseen that of which she spoke.

“Take heart, Cairbre.”

“I do try.” He felt himself filled with sadness once again at the thought of her departure from Dweömer. “How soon…‌I mean, when will you‌—?”

“Do not worry yourself with such things. Take comfort in knowing that it is all Her will.” Rhiannon smiled, her delicate lashes covering her eyes as she lowered her eyelids from strain. “And that it is for the good of our people.”

Cairbre watched the gray tone of her skin spread over her forehead and eyes, stopping just above the tip of her nose and resting upon the apples of her cheeks.

“My mask grows.” She could feel the transition, and closed her eyes. “Do not be alarmed, Cairbre.”

“What is‌—?”

“My body is reverting back to that of an Álfar, and I am losing my Meïnir and Féinmhuinín qualities with the passing of the days.”

He gasped when she opened her eyes. While Rhiannon had always possessed the most alluring eyes he had ever seen, they now took on an even more ethereal quality, which he would not have thought possible. A shiver went up his spine as he felt her gaze go through him.

“Ceridwen is at the Brynmor,” she said softly. “I think it would be wise for you to fetch her for me.”

“My Lady‌—”

“Perhaps you are correct and my judgement clouded. She must be told of my…‌no, Her plan.”

The willow groves of Helygen greeted Connor as he approached his home province. The morning sun danced across the crowns of the trees, the wind swaying their branches. In the distance, beyond the rolling mists of early morning, Castle Helygen stood proud against the verdant plains surrounding the groves.

Connor smiled at Gawain, and he returned the smile, visibly happy to have delivered him safely to the province.

The sun’s rays illuminated the landscape with golden hues. Colors that Connor never imagined graced their surroundings. It was a far cry from salt-sprayed Castle Cærwyn. Autumn was fairer in Helygen, thanks to the warm currents arriving from the southwest of the Fawrion Ocean, unlike the cold water currents from the Bæðweg Glæs that plagued Cærwyn.