Shadow of Stone (The Pendragon Chronicles) (55 page)

I have told Arthur that I would like to return to Britain to see you and Riona — what a lovely name! Arthur says that I make my own decisions, but Chlodovech is not yet defeated, and until we receive adequate reinforcements to compensate for our losses in recent battles, he needs every man among us. It might be possible for me to travel with only a personal guard, leaving the bulk of the Dumnonian troops in Kustennin's capable hands. Yseult, your son is developing into a veritable military genius. Who would have thought it? I'm sure he does not have it from the years he was in fosterage with me, and Drystan, while an impressive fighter, was not a warrior at heart. Perhaps it is the Erainn fighting blood that runs in his veins.

Arthur has accepted Cai back into the ranks of his companions, but the camaraderie is not the same. And no one knows what will happen when we all return to Caer Leon.

I am joyous to finally have heard from you again and hope that this letter finds you and Riona well.

Your Cador

Yseult to Cador, greetings.

I would be more than happy to see you again, but I understand if you cannot get away from the fighting in Gaul. Perhaps Arthur will soon be able to put Chlodovech to flight and you can return home for good, all of you. It is much to be hoped for that Arthur return soon. Ginevra will not allow me to bring up the subject of her husband, or her lover either, for all she claims to regard me as a friend. Still, we see each other nearly every day, and she is a favorite with Riona. I think she envies me the baby.

As to Cai, Modrun and I have come up with a plan we hope will lead to Cai's rehabilitation. Modrun has undertaken the long journey north to Eburacum to speak with Peredur about the beggar, the only witness to Cai's alleged murder of Loholt. If she can mine Peredur's memories, perhaps we can find him and question him ourselves. I almost envy her — in this heat, it is a good time to travel north.

Riona is well. She is crawling now and even trying to pull herself up on things. I wish you were here to watch her grow and learn and change, Cador.

I hope this finds you in good health and far from any battles.

Your Yseult

Cador to Yseult, greetings.

Unfortunately, Chlodovech recovered from his losses much sooner than we expected. We have word that he is once again marching west from Parisius, while Arthur has not yet even received reinforcements from the kings of Armorica. What is more, the Frankish army is said to have swelled to numbers as great as before. So while I can set your mind at ease that I am in good health and there is at present no battle nearby, I fear one is on its way to us. Arthur will not retreat, so pray that reinforcements arrive before Chlodovech does. At least there is still a river between him and us.

While the news of Ginevra and Medraut does not sound good, it would be most welcome if you and Modrun were able to clear Cai's name.

More than anything else, I wish I were now traveling north, crossing the Gaulish Sea to Britain, making my way to Caer Leon or wherever you and the baby are now. Riona. Our little queen.

I hope this letter finds you both safe and well.

Your Cador

Yseult to Cador, greetings.

I will pray to any gods who will hear me that the Armorican rulers send reinforcements soon. They certainly cannot want Chlodovech defeating Arthur, for then the Frankish king would soon march on to their own doorsteps. Perhaps they too were taken by surprise at how quickly the Franks were able to regroup.

Modrun has returned from Eburacum, and we are hopeful that we will be able to find this beggar who accused Cai. Peredur was not particularly helpful, seeming to see every doubt raised of his own words as an accusation, but Modrun has his memories of the incident now. With that, it is much more likely that she will be able to find the witness.

I am planning to return to Lindinis soon. It is August, and it would be good to be there for the harvest. Your mother wrote, urging us to come; she is very eager to see Riona. Now that Modrun is back in Caer Leon, she can keep an eye on things. Besides, I do not see what more can be accomplished here until the beggar is found.

Please keep yourself safe, Cador, for my sake as well as for Riona's.

Your Yseult

* * * *

Medraut closed the thin sheets of birch wood and gazed at the neatly planted courtyard of his townhouse in Caer Leon. Cwylli had loved growing things, had spent many hours designing the arrangements of plants and flowers, roses and lilies, violets and herbs. Sometimes he wondered what his life would have been like had she not died after the wedding of Cador and Yseult. Or how things would have developed if Nimue had returned to him after seducing Myrddin away from Arthur.

But none of those things had happened, and now he was on a clear path to his goal.

It was a good thing he had intercepted this letter, however — he'd had no idea what Modrun and Yseult were planning, no idea how much Modrun had already discovered. Now he did, and he could take the necessary steps.

Chapter 25

While Arthur wars abroad and reaps renown,

Guenevera prefers his son's desire;

And traitorous Mordred still usurps the crown,

Affording fuel to her quenchless fire,

But death's too good, and life too sweet for these,

That wanting both should taste of neither's ease.

Thomas Hughes, "The Misfortunes of Arthur"

Yseult and her party were waiting for the ferry to Abona, when a feeling of dread darkened her vision and squeezed her heart tight.

She turned to Ricca. "We must go back to Caer Leon. Something has happened." She saw the way Sevi's face fell; her servant had been looking forward to returning to the comforts of villa life, as had they all.

By evening, they were once again riding past the amphitheater and entering the southwestern gate. As they approached the principia, Gareth came out to meet them and help their party dismount.

"Yseult! Did my messenger catch up with you?"

She shook her head shortly. "What has happened?"

"Modrun is dead. She was killed on the road between Caer Leon and Caer Gwent, presumably bandits."

Modrun dead?
At the words, Yseult realized she had somehow regarded the older woman as too wise to succumb to a simple attack by thieves. "Did she not have her honor guard with her?"

"All died with her except one, a certain Kevern, and he cannot be found."

Yseult rubbed her eyes with thumb and forefinger. Only this morning, she and Modrun had taken leave of each other, Yseult going south for the journey to Lindinis, Modrun heading east to visit her sons in Caer Gwent. What if Yseult had taken the land route, had traveled with Modrun to Caer Gwent and then on to Glevum and south from there? Would she be dead now too? Or could she have saved the others somehow?

She lowered her hand and looked at Gareth. "May we return to Modrun's house for the time being?"

Gareth nodded. "I cannot imagine Caradoc or Aurelius would have anything against it. I presume they will be here tomorrow, and then we can make other arrangements."

Yseult cared little what arrangements would be made on the morrow. Right now she was hoping some of Modrun's spirit yet remained in the place she'd called home for the last years of her life — enough to perhaps tell Yseult something about her death.

* * * *

After assuring herself that the baby was sleeping peacefully, Yseult began to wander through the rooms of Modrun's house. Almost everywhere, she felt the presence of Modrun's discontented spirit in the things she'd left behind, but it was greatest in a small room off the atrium that held a writing table and several shelves.

She sank down into the wide, comfortable chair in front of the writing table, leaned her head back against the headrest, and closed her eyes. "How did you die, Modrun? Why are you restless?"

At first, she felt little more than the discontent she'd been picking up all through the house. Then slowly the feeling gathered, turning into anger, and the world around Yseult began to shift.

She is riding through a forest, surrounded by the armed escort that always accompanies her, despite the fact that this road is one of the safest in Britain, so close to the strongholds of both Caer Leon and Caer Gwent.

She feels danger just before it strikes. "An attack!" she calls out. "Arm yourselves!"

Her men-at-arms draw their swords, forming a protective wall around her, but they don't have a chance — their foe consists of at least twenty men, obviously well-trained warriors. No simple bandits.

She considers drawing the dagger she wears at her waist, but it is not a very efficient weapon fighting on horseback.

"Lady, here!" calls Kevern.

She wheels her mount around to see that two of her men have fought a temporary gap through the attackers. She kicks her heels to her mare's sides and gallops between them and down the road back in the direction of Caer Leon.

Immediately, there are pounding hooves behind her, but she does not look back, leaning low over her mare's neck and urging her on. Despite her best efforts, her pursuers are upon her, and then she is knocked from her horse and rolling on the ground. Now is time for the dagger. She draws it and is able to slash the warrior across the face who pulled her from her mount. He falls back screaming and clutching at the wound, but another warrior is beside her, sword raised high above his head. He brings it down straight into her chest and wrenches it out again. The pain is excruciating, but luckily it is soon followed by the cold of impending death.

As she lies there, bleeding her life into the packed dirt of the road, she sees the attackers make short work of her men.

But where is Kevern? Did he escape?

As she is lingering on the border between life and death, she hears one of them call out, "Make sure to take any valuables! Medraut instructed us to make it look like bandits!"

If she still had any trace of doubt, it is gone.

Her death is an assassination.

Yseult opened her eyes. To her surprise, she found that her cheeks were wet with tears. She'd experienced the deaths of so many friends and relatives, proud and tearless, being the queen her mother taught her to be — but she had never experienced the death of anyone close to her as her own, feeling the blood seep away with no one there to help.

She wiped off the tears and stood. "I will do my best to avenge you, Modrun," she said to the air of the small room.

Not wanting to retire haunted by thoughts of death, Yseult leaned over the edge of the infant bed where her daughter slept. Several weeks ago, Riona had outgrown her basket, and now she slept in a larger bed with wooden sides to keep her from falling out. Her swaddling clothes had loosened and she'd kicked off the blankets and lay with her tiny arms splayed above her head. Gently, Yseult retrieved the blanket and pulled it up to her daughter's chin.

Cador's child.

She remembered Brangwyn's words before Yseult left for Eriu:
she could be right or she could be happy.

Please, Danu, bring him home safe.
She didn't know if he would truly want her back when he returned, despite the kind words in his letters, but if nothing else, Riona would make him happy. Cador deserved that.

* * * *

The next day found Yseult in a small audience chamber in the principia with Gareth, while their personal guard waited outside the door.

Gareth leaned one elbow on the table beside him, rubbing his forehead. "You are sure they said it was Medraut's doing in your vision?"

Yseult nodded shortly. "It makes sense." And then she told him of Modrun's trip to Eburacum and her meeting with Peredur. "He must have learned that Modrun had Peredur's memories with which to search for the beggar. By all the gods, no." Yseult covered her mouth with one hand and closed her eyes.

"What is it, Yseult?"

She lowered her hand and looked at him. "He may have intercepted a letter I wrote to Cador. I told him about it."

Gareth gazed at her in sympathy. "You do not know that. You cannot blame yourself for Modrun's death."

Unfortunately, he was wrong — she certainly could blame herself.

"I agree with you, this all looks very suspicious," Gareth continued. "But I do not know what I can do unless the beggar or Kevern, or both, are found."

"Would it be possible to increase the fighting men posted near the houses of Medraut and Ginevra without incurring suspicion? Perhaps establish a discreet tail on Medraut?"

Gareth glanced at her sharply. "A
guard
? What for?"

"If you do not want your uncle to lose a second wife, you should consider it."

"You think they mean to run off together?"

"I think it is a possibility, especially if Medraut begins to feel cornered. If he is responsible for the framing of Cai and the death of Modrun, it all has to do with gaining and keeping the Queen of Cerniw — and the power that comes with her."

"Yes. Of course." He stood for a moment lost in thought, his arms folded in front of his chest, staring at the pattern of tiles at his feet. Finally he looked up, his expression troubled. "Do you
know
what Medraut is about?"