Night Bird's Reign (11 page)

“No doubt it slipped her mind, what with the excitement of the testing today. It’s all right, Siwan. Let us in and I’ll take full responsibility.”

“Well,” she said dubiously, opening the door wide. “If you say so.”

The large room was luxurious. Thick carpets made by the best weavers in Gwynedd were strewn on the floor in colorful profusion. Heavy, carved chests and small tables of dark, satiny wood lined the walls at intervals. A large, throne-like chair with brightly embroidered cushions stood under a blue velvet canopy. Intricate tapestries lined the walls with bright, colorful bursts. Polished wooden stairs with a curved banister arose at the far end of the room.

“The Queen is upstairs. With Arthur,” Siwan said nervously. “I don’t think—”

“Just go back to what you were doing, Siwan.” Without pausing, Duach climbed the stairs, with Gwydion right behind him.

The two men stopped in the open doorway to Ygraine’s bedchamber and looked in. This room was even more luxurious than the first. A large mirror hung against the far wall. The silver frame studded with pearls gleamed in the noonday sunlight streaming through the open windows. Summer flowers stood in graceful gold and silver vases strewn on tables throughout the room. The huge featherbed was spread with a wool coverlet of white worked with silver thread and pearls. A canopy of the same material stretched over the bed, the curtains a dazzling white. There was a dressing table covered with small pots and jars of cosmetics and perfumes. A large silver jewelry box spilled pearls and sapphires onto the table. Tall wardrobes, exquisitely carved, covered one entire wall. Elaborate tapestries covered the remaining spaces.

In the corner by the large window, in a pool of sunshine, sat a cradle lined in blue silk. A coo from the cradle told Gwydion that tiny Morrigan occupied it.

Ygraine herself sat in a chair of oak, resting her hands on the curved armrests. She was dressed in white and her shining auburn hair gleamed. She wore a circlet of pearls around her forehead and her hair was elaborately curled. Another string of pearls encircled her neck twice then spilled down the front of her dress. Ygraine had not noticed the two men, all her attention bent on the child that played at her feet.

Arthur was small for his four years. Slender and delicate-looking, his eyes seemed too big for his face. A shock of sandy blond hair hung over his forehead. The child had a serious expression as he stacked small blocks of brightly colored wood to form a tower.

Duach cleared his throat. Arthur jumped slightly and the tower he was building teetered and fell. Unlike many children, Arthur did not cry at the destruction. He gravely looked at the ruins of his tower then glanced up at the two men. Obviously a fair child, his eyes held no blame for the mishap.

“My Queen,” Duach said bowing deeply. “May I present to you a noble visitor. Gwydion ap Awst, Dreamer of Kymru, Walker-between-the-Worlds—”

“Thank you, Duach,” Ygraine said dryly. “I believe I am aware of the identity of this uninvited guest.”

Duach bowed again. “Is there anything else you wish, my Queen?”

“Yes. I wish for you to go,” she said, her voice like winter snow. Swallowing hard, Duach bowed himself out.

“You scared him,” Gwydion said mildly, his eyes never leaving Arthur.

“No I didn’t. He expects that from me. He’d be frightened if I was nice to him,” replied Ygraine, just as mildly, her eyes also fixed on her young son.

To gain some time before he faced Arthur, Gwydion went to the cradle by the window. Two-year-old Morrigan slept with a contented smile on her exquisite face, her auburn hair illuminated by the sun. She did indeed have her mother’s delicate features, but Gwydion could see Uthyr in the set of her smiling mouth.

“She’s beautiful,” Gwydion said softly, lightly brushing his forefinger against her smooth cheek.

“Yes, she is,” Ygraine said softly, but Gwydion noticed she had not taken her eyes from Arthur.

Gwydion crossed the room and knelt down beside the boy, who gravely returned his gaze. “Hello, Arthur. I’m your Uncle Gwydion.”

Arthur swiftly looked up at his mother for confirmation. She nodded and Arthur returned his gaze to Gwydion, filing away this new bit of information.

“I’m sorry about the tower, Arthur. We didn’t mean to scare you.” Another long pause. “Can you say hello to me?”

“Hello,” Arthur said briefly, then stared down at the floor.

“Arthur is shy,” Ygraine said softly.

“I was, too.” He handed a block to Arthur. “Shall we build again?”

Arthur said nothing, but he reached for the block and set it on the floor. Gwydion placed a second block on top of the first and the two rebuilt the tower in silence. Then they sat back to examine their handiwork.

“What do you think?” Gwydion asked.

“Good,” Arthur replied.

“Yes, it is good. I agree.” Gwydion looked over at Ygraine. “A man of few words, I see.”

“Yes,” she replied. “I wonder where he gets it?”

Ygraine almost smiled, but caught herself in time. She studied Gwydion, then said, “Tell me, and try not to lie for once. My son is being tested today. What are you up to?”

“Ygraine, he’s my nephew,” he said, with exaggerated patience, playing for time. “I’m just showing some interest.”

“No you’re not. You never show interest in anyone—unless you want to use him or her for something. So, tell me this, Gwydion, how do you intend to use my son? And what makes you think I will let you do that?”

Gwydion opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment the sound of horses hooves clattering in the courtyard below reached them. A babble of voices floated up through the open windows.

“Uthyr has returned. I hope the hunt was good,” Ygraine mused. “Don’t you want to go down and see him?”

“You want me to leave?” Gwydion asked innocently.

“Yes.”

“I think I’ll just wait here for a while. He’ll drop in, I’m sure.” As the two sat in silence Gwydion fixed his gaze on Arthur who had been quietly playing with his wooden blocks. The child had built another tower beside the first and was attempting to construct a bridge. “Need any help?” Gwydion asked.

“No, thank you, Uncle Gwydion,” Arthur replied politely, not lifting his eyes from the construction.

Within moments Duach and Uthyr were at the chamber door. “He’s here,” said Duach, gesturing to Uthyr. “Shall I fetch Susanna now?”

“Please,” Gwydion said getting to his feet.

“Gwydion! Brother!” Uthyr exclaimed, as he swiftly crossed the room and enveloped Gwydion in a gargantuan bear hug. “I didn’t know you were coming!” Uthyr turned to Ygraine and kissed her lightly.

He went to the cradle and gently touched sleeping Morrigan’s fresh face. Then he picked up his young son and tossed him high into the air. Arthur giggled delightedly. Uthyr caught the boy and held him close. Seeing them face to face Gwydion noted that the resemblance was very strong. Arthur would have his mother’s auburn hair and dark eyes, but his face was Uthyr’s.

“Well, boyo, are you ready to take a trip soon?” Uthyr asked, and Arthur nodded his answer.

“Where is he going?” Gwydion said sharply.

“Why, he’s going to the graduation ceremonies at the colleges in Gwytheryn. They start in a few weeks. He’s the heir, so he has to deliver the gifts for the graduates from Gwynedd.”

“Are you going with him?” Gwydion asked.

“No. Susanna and Cai will go with Arthur. Ygraine and I will stay here this year, with Morrigan.”

Gwydion nodded absently, his mind racing. A trip to Gwytheryn opened possibilities that could give Gwydion the chance he needed to settle Arthur’s future.

“Isn’t Arthur a little young to be going?” he asked.

Uthyr shrugged. “No younger than I was the first time. Well, little brother, it’s good to see you! Are you here for the Plentyn Prawf then?”

Gwydion swallowed. Now it begins, he thought. “Uthyr. Ygraine. I need to talk to you both.”

Uthyr’s smile faded as he took a good look at Gwydion’s tense, tired face. Gently, he set Arthur down and straightened. “What is it?” he asked in a tight voice.

“The testing. Please, Uthyr, sit down.”

Uthyr drew up a chair next to his wife. “All right. I’m sitting,” Uthyr said firmly. “What is it?”

“I’ve sent for Susanna. Arthur must be tested privately. Here and now.”

“Why?” Ygraine asked coldly. “Heirs are always tested in public, just like all the other children.”

“Because I think I know what we will find; and because the results must not be known publicly. Not yet.”

“And what do you expect to find?” Uthyr asked slowly.

“I think you know.”

Uthyr did not reply. Ygraine turned to her husband, but before she could question him, Susanna was at the door with Duach right behind her.

“Thank you, Duach,” Gwydion said as he went swiftly to the door and pulled Susanna into the room. “I’ll send for you if we need anything.” Gwydion quickly shut the door on Duach’s surprised and curious face.

“Did you bring the testing device?” Gwydion asked.

Susanna wore a simple gown of gray wool. Her hair was loose and disheveled, and she was barefoot. “Yes,” she said acidly. “I brought it. I was also busy when Duach came and hauled me over here. Griffi may never forgive you for this. I know I won’t.”

Gwydion said simply, “It’s important, Susanna.”

The Bard was instantly serious. “All right,” she said quietly. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to test Arthur. Now.”

Susanna’s eyes widened in surprise. “But—”

“Please. Just do it.” Something in his tone immediately stopped all protest. Slowly, Susanna moved to where Arthur sat on the floor, once again playing with his blocks. She knelt down beside him, taking a small square object from the folds of her gown. “Hello, Arthur. Do you remember me? I’ve been gone a long time.”

Arthur looked at her, gravely considering her question. “Yes. You are Susanna. You play music.”

“Yes,” Susanna smiled. “And I do other things too. I travel all over Gwynedd and I meet many children. And when I meet them I do a little test, called the Plentyn Prawf, which means Child Test. And the test tells us if a child has a special talent. Like if they can talk to animals or see things in their minds from far away. Or if they can make things move without touching them.”

“I can’t do those things,” Arthur said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Well, you never know. I have a test to find out. Do you want me to find out about you?”

“Will it hurt?” He didn’t seem apprehensive, just curious.

“No. You’ll just feel a little prick at the end of your finger.”

Arthur considered her request for a moment, then nodded for her to go ahead.

Susanna held out the small square box. The opening at one end was just large enough to insert a finger. The box was made of some kind of silvery material that glistened in the sunlight. The top of the box was decorated with jewels. In the very center there was a group of onyx stones, arranged in a figure-eight pattern around a bloodstone. Grouped around these stones were a large pearl, a sapphire, an emerald, and an opal. At the far corners other jewels nested—amethyst, topaz, ruby, and a diamond beside a garnet.

“You put your finger in here,” Susanna explained, “and if you have a special talent, if you are one of the Y Dawnus, one of these jewels will glow.”

Arthur leaned forward and gazed solemnly at the jewels. “Which ones?”

“Well, if you have the talent to be a Druid the emerald will glow. The emerald is for Modron, the Great Mother, and Druids belong to her. Or, if you should be a Bard, the sapphire, which is for Taran of the Winds, will light up. The pearl is for the Dewin, who belong to Nantsovelta, the Lady of the Waters. And the opal is for the Dreamer, who belongs to Mabon of the Sun.”

“Like Uncle Gwydion.”

“Yes,” Susanna smiled. “Like your Uncle Gwydion.”

“What about the others?” Arthur asked.

“The diamond is for Sirona of the Stars and the garnet for Grannos the Healer. The ruby is for Y Rhyfelwr, the Warrior Twins, Camulos and Agrona. Those don’t light up, but are there for us to remember whom they represent. The amethyst and the topaz are for Cerridwen and Cerrunnos, the Protectors of Kymru. The topaz and the amethyst will glow for anyone who is Kymri. In the middle is the onyx for Annwyn, the Lord of Chaos and the bloodstone is for his wife Aertan, the Weaver of Fate, the King and Queen of the Otherworld.”

“Just a moment, Susanna.” Gwydion went to the windows, and closed the shutters one by one.

“It’s too dark now,” Ygraine said acidly. “I can barely see.”

With a gesture, all the candles in the room lit at once with Druid’s Fire. “Is that better?” Gwydion asked. Without waiting for an answer he nodded at Susanna. “Go ahead.”

“All right, Arthur, just put your finger in this opening here on the side of the box.”

Arthur did so and for a moment nothing happened. The box made a slight clicking sound and then began to whir quietly.

Suddenly, shockingly, every jewel on the box began to glow. Bright columns of light shot up from each jewel, mingling together on the ceiling. Brighter and brighter the jewels glowed and the humming sound grew louder and louder. Gwydion jumped to Susanna’s side and pulled the box away from her frozen hands, pulling Arthur’s finger out at the same time. Instantly the lights and the noise cut off, as though a door to another world had been abruptly shut.

Little Morrigan began to cry and Ygraine went to the cradle and swiftly picked her up, hushing her. Arthur, startled, did not cry, but his lower lip trembled. Uthyr reached down and picked his son up, cuddling him in his lap. The comfort of his father’s arms quieted the child, but his eyes were wide.

“It was too loud,” Gwydion explained. “Another minute and everyone would have come to see what was happening.”

“Gods, I’ve never seen that before! I’ve heard of it but never—” Susanna said.

“It hasn’t happened for over two hundred years.” Gwydion said tightly.

Susanna, still shocked, turned to Uthyr. “Did you know?”

“I guessed,” Uthyr admitted, his voice shaking.

“You never said anything to me,” Ygraine said, coldly eyeing her husband as she continued to hush Morrigan.