Shadow of Stone (The Pendragon Chronicles) (3 page)

"The sons of Caw?" Kustennin repeated. "Gildas's brothers?"

"Half brothers," Gawain said. "But yes, the same."

"Poor Gildas," Kustennin murmured.

Poor Gildas indeed. Cador hardly knew how he was to tell his ward that his kin had begun a war against Britain. And Cwylli — how would she take the news? She was in Caer Leon with her husband Medraut, and probably saw Arthur daily. He repressed the urge to ask Gawain how she was doing; as far as he knew, no one had yet suspected them of anything more than friendship, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Kustennin gave a puzzled shake of his head. "How could the sons of Caw lay claim to northern Dumnonia? Are they not based in Ystrad Clud?"

Cador nodded. "They are. But Caw held Caer Custoeint for Ambrosius for years."

"And Caer Custoeint is the first site they took," Gawain said.

Cador saw a look of concern look pass over Kustennin's face; once war endangered those you loved, it lost some of its attraction.

"What of Brangwyn?" Kustennin asked. "Did she and her family escape?"

"Safe," Gawain said. "Your mother's cousin and her family were in Caer Leon for the Easter festivities."

At least that
. It was already enough bad news for one day.

* * * *

As they rode into the stable yard, they were surrounded by more servants than necessary to take their mounts. Word had spread.

"I hope you and your men will spend the night?" Cador asked as they dismounted. "We could discuss in detail what Arthur needs. Besides, there will not be much daylight left after you have eaten."

Gawain pulled off his riding gloves, grimacing. "I don't know. Arthur needs reinforcements as quickly a possible. The standing army in Caer Leon isn't large enough to deal with such a serious attack. This is more than a border dispute or a kidnapping."

Enid touched Cador's elbow. "Gawain's men must be tired and thirsty. Perhaps you can continue this conversation in the atrium."

"Of course." Cador gestured for Gawain and his men to follow his mother into the villa.

"Where will you go next?" Cador asked as they walked through the gardens.

"To Natanleod in Calleva."

"But that's more than a day's ride away. You and your men might as well spend the night and get a fresh start in the morning."

They entered the reception area, where slaves and servants were already scrambling to fetch wine and ale. "Your arguments are good," Gawain said, clapping him on the back. "We will consider it."

They settled into chairs and couches while more servants brought bread and cheese. With a smile, Cador noticed that Kustennin took a seat near Gawain, Arthur's most famous nephew, and he remembered how he had felt about Arthur at the same age.

Gawain filled them in on what they knew of the attacks. They appeared to have been well-planned and executed: not only were Brangwyn and Kurvenal absent from Caer Custoeint when the northern warriors landed, their ships had stayed far enough out to sea that no lookouts spotted them.

"Yes, very well planned," Cador said thoughtfully.

Gawain leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "We fear that the sons of Caw must have allies here in Dumnonia — the Mount of Frogs is in the middle of a swamp and could hardly be taken without inside knowledge."

Cador cut himself a thick slice of cheese from the plate near his elbow. "I assume Arthur will be needing horses?"

Gawain nodded. "If we can mount even half our forces, we will have a huge advantage over invaders from the north arriving by boat. How many horses can you contribute?"

"I will have to consult with Alun, but I believe we have nearly two hundred in the stables here in Lindinis. The mares that have just given birth will, of course, be needed for their foals. There are about the same number in the stables in Durnovaria, but I don't know how many can be spared — or how many would be suitable as war horses. It's usually Cai's job to choose mounts when he visits our stables after Whitsun."

As Arthur's Master of Horse, Cai was probably the best judge of horseflesh in all of Britain. When Cador had begun to expand his stables, Cai had been a regular visitor, advising him on everything from bloodlines, breeds to import, and feed in winter. By the end of the year, Cai had married Cador's sister.

But peace seemed to take more women than men. Cador's sister had died in childbed two years ago, only a few months before Terrwyn had suffered the same fate.

"Cai is needed in Caer Leon to train the cavalry," Gawain said.

"Then Alun and I will have to do our best."

Suddenly Kustennin jumped up and strode toward the entrance of the atrium. "Mother!"

Not for the first time, Cador was struck by how his foster son had noticed a new arrival before anyone else — perhaps an indication that Kustennin had inherited some of his mother's power of knowing.

As the Queen Regent of Dumnonia entered the atrium, Cador rose, along with the rest of the men who had just been so intent on talk of war. Yseult smiled a greeting and brushed the embroidered linen shawl back from her hair, a gift from Cador the last Christmas that Terrwyn was still alive. Yseult was no longer young, but she still had a reputation as one of the great beauties of Britain, and given the way the men around him stared, it appeared well-deserved. Even Gawain — the warrior among Arthur's companions with the most dangerous reputation with women — drew in a sharp breath at the sight of the tall, silver-blond queen.

She strode forward with decisive, decidedly unfeminine steps, looking just as stunning as usual, despite having crossed the Erainn Sea and half the length of Dumnonia in the last few weeks. Kustennin led her forward, murmuring earnestly in her ear, and her expression clouded. As she approached, her gaze lit on Gawain. To Cador's surprise, she too drew in a sharp breath.

He glanced from one to the other. What was going on here?

Yseult stepped forward to embrace Cador, and he gave her a brotherly hug before exchanging a more formal kiss of peace. "We are glad you arrived safely, Yseult. I assume Kustennin told you the news?"

She nodded, her expression solemn. "I know it will sound selfish, but right now I am just glad that Brangwyn and Kurvenal were not in Caer Custoeint when the attack occurred."

Before he could respond, Enid entered the atrium with a servant to announce that dinner was served. His mother had mastered the challenge of so many unexpected guests brilliantly, serving the hare stuffed with sage and dried apples and the salmon in a sauce of clams as the first two courses, followed by a new main course of the spontaneously slaughtered chickens in a rich wine sauce with mushrooms and onions.

During the meal, Cador found himself glancing between Yseult and Gawain, interpreting relationships of all kinds into gazes caught and avoided. He hoped he was successfully maintaining the shield in his mind as Yseult had taught him so many years ago. There was no telling, Yseult had said then, who might possess blood of the Old Race and the ability to delve into others' thoughts. And now here he was, using that training against Yseult herself.

If only he also had her magic and could know for certain what the interaction between the two of them meant.

Servants were bringing out plates of sweet nut tarts and wine cakes when Cador noticed Gawain glance out the window at the gathering dusk. "Perhaps you were right, Cador. Sunlight will soon be gone, and while we could ride in the dark, we'd have to set up camp and would not be as rested in the morning. I think we'll take you up on your offer to stay the night. If we rise before dawn, we can make up the time."

"Certainly," Cador said, gesturing for a servant. "You are always welcome here."

While he asked the servant to inform Enid of the change in plans, he saw Gawain catch Yseult's attention, saw their gazes meet and lock, saw the light in Gawain's eyes. Yseult glanced away, but Cador had not imagined the look of intimacy that passed between them.

He felt the muscles of his stomach cramp, and all appetite for his favorite dessert vanished. Cador might not have the powers of the Old Race, but he didn't need them to interpret something so obvious — Yseult and Gawain were lovers. When had it happened? How had he missed it? Obviously they were trying to keep their relationship secret, but still, he had considered himself one of Yseult's closest friends, aside from her cousin Brangwyn.

He drew a deep breath and took a sip of wine. And what if they
were
lovers? What was it to him? Neither had any other commitments, and he was well aware that Yseult had long ago sworn never to marry again after the disaster of her marriage to Marcus Cunomorus. From her point of view, a discreet relationship would be ideal.

Then why did Cador suddenly feel sick at the smell of sweet wine cakes?

* * * *

Yseult followed the talk of war, trying to keep the worry out of her expression. Fulfilling her role as regent had become second nature, but it had been a long time since there had been anything more than minor border skirmishes in the southern kingdoms of Britain.

This was different; with Caer Custoeint taken, Brangwyn no longer had a home. And this time, her son would be going to war with Arthur's troops. Kustennin was not yet seventeen, the age of adulthood for young men according to British custom, but Gawain had relayed Arthur's request that Kustennin become one of his standard bearers. Her son was discussing the upcoming trip to Caer Leon with his neighbor, his expression alight with excitement, unaware of his mother's worries. Yseult would have to try and keep it that way.

She had been anticipating a restful visit in Lindinis, perhaps some hunting with Kustennin, a trip to Durnovaria to visit the horse fairs with Cador — now they would all be on the road as soon as Cador could get the men and horses together that Arthur needed. Yseult could have found an excuse to go to Caer Leon — to reassure herself that her cousin Brangwyn was well, for example — but with northern pirates attacking the coast of Dumnonia, she needed to ensure that the defense of Dyn Tagell would be sufficient to withstand attack. The situation in Voliba and Isca was not as urgent, since they were on the southern coast; nonetheless, it might make sense to hire reinforcements for those cities as well. In either case, she needed to speak with the captains of the guard about their preparations.

Gawain tried to catch her eye and she looked away, helping herself to a piece of wine cake. Why oh why was
he
here? To bring the news of the attacks, of course — and as a reminder that the peaceful life she had made for herself was over, in more ways than one. Gawain, one of the most handsome men among Arthur's companions, even at close to forty years. Gawain, the image of a perfect warrior, tall and blond, but with an odd dent in his nose where it had once been broken, an imperfection that only made his face more interesting. Gawain, who could send her pulse beating with a broad smile or an intense gaze or simply by entering a room. Even now he made her so nervous, she was afraid she would give herself away.

After her long trip from Eriu, she would be forgiven if she retired early. She pulled her favorite shawl up around her shoulders and turned to Cador's mother. "An excellent dinner once again, Enid. I don't know how you managed with so many people arriving unexpectedly."

Enid smiled at the praise. "Luckily, there are always chickens."

Yseult laughed and rose. "I will try to remember that. But now I must retire; my men and I have been traveling all day, and there is much to do tomorrow. Good night, Enid, Cador."

"Good night," Enid said. "Your usual room has been prepared for you. Do you wish a servant to accompany you?"

She shook her head. "Not necessary." That was one of the things she enjoyed so much when she was in Lindinis; it was like being at home, but without the responsibility.

She offered her cheek to her son for a kiss and left the dining hall, avoiding Gawain's expectant gaze. A hint of daylight tinged the sky, and the air still held a breath of warmth. Grateful for the peaceful moment after the day's news, she sauntered along the porticoed passageway of the inner courtyard, taking her time. Just now, she did not want to think about how life might change in the coming months.

"Yseult."

She drew in a deep breath as her lover stepped out of the shadows. "Hello, Gawain."

"I wanted to speak with you," he said — unnecessarily.

"Yes?" She hoped Kustennin hadn't noticed Gawain follow her.

"I don't think you should go to Dyn Tagell. Have you considered staying here in Lindinis with Enid?"

Yseult shook her head. "Lindinis is closer to Caer Custoeint than Dyn Tagell. Besides, I have responsibilities."

"Yes, but you can also see to those responsibilities by sending one of your men."

He was right, of course, but she did not want to argue the point with him here, now, in this place where her son could come upon them at any time. Even without reading his mind, she knew as well as he did that potential danger to her person was not the reason he had come after her.

When she didn't answer, he stepped forward and caught her arm. "Isca would be safest."

She tried to shake off his hand. "Not here, Gawain, please."

Ignoring her words, he took her shoulders in his broad hands. "Yseult, it would be reckless to put yourself into danger."