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Authors: Traci Harding

BOOK: Chronicle of Ages
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A cloak of raven feathers fell from her shoulders to the floor. The glossy blue-black colour of the unique
garment intensified the depth in her ebony eyes. Her hair, darker still, fell in a multitude of black braids, which were bound in a ponytail that fell past her knees. The holy woman's lips were painted black as night, adding to her ominous appearance. But her defining feature was the tattoo over her third eye. This depicted an eye, its pupil a perfect black orb with a white crescent moon as its iris.

‘Well, thee could do the polite thing and go and inquire after her curiosity,' Cai suggested.

‘I suspect her restraint doth not stem from formality.' Selwyn poured himself another drink. ‘If she wishes to speak with me, she shall seek me out.'

‘Seek thee she dost.' Cai alerted Selwyn to the raven-feathered woman's approach.

As the Druidess neared the Merlin and his novice, she bowed her head slightly to Selwyn in acknowledgment and continued on past. ‘In a moment, druid, come and find me,' she whispered, so discretely that Selwyn wondered if he'd imagined her instruction. When she had gone, he looked to Cai to confirm his perception. ‘Do my ears deceive me?'

Cai shook his head, unable to smother his astonished grin.

‘Curious,' was all the Merlin could say, perplexed by her approach. Why was a secret meeting required? Cai's overactive imagination was way off the mark in Selwyn's opinion and therefore the Magi's precautions could only mean one thing — that there was trouble afoot.

 

Selwyn bided his time before exiting the banquet hall at Castell Dwyran, Dyfed's capital city, where the crowning
of the High King had taken place. He observed the main table where the leaders of the allied kingdoms were seated, in an attempt to assess any dis-ease around those gathered.

The main feasting table had increased in size over the past ten years to accommodate all the new ruling dynasties that had joined the alliance. To prevent overcrowding or offence at these large gatherings of leaders, the old rectangular table had been replaced by a large round one, with room to spare for newcomers. The new allied kingdoms had emerged from the territory to the north of Gwynedd that had once been known as Cumbria. This area had been only sparsely populated since Roman withdrawal, but with unoccupied land being a precious commodity in the known world at this time, the territory was slowly but surely being claimed. The native Britons did not number enough as a race to occupy and hold their entire island. Therefore, forming trade relations with emerging Kingdoms was the best option the allies had for maintaining the lands they had secured.

These new landowners all claimed native descent, and were distant relatives of the royal lines of Powys, Gwent and Gwynedd; like King Elidyr of Reged, the kingdom directly to the north of Gwynedd, whose forefathers claimed to have descended from Cunedda the Great.

This legendary warlord had migrated from the Firth of Forth in Alban and, along with his nine sons, Cunedda had pacified and settled much of the western coast of the isle of Briton in the wake of Roman withdrawal.

When Elidyr had joined the alliance, two of his long-time allies, Elifler, King of York, and Riderch, King of Clyde, had come to the party with him. With their combined territories, the largest portion of the Isle of Briton ever to be brought under the control of the alliance was realised. This meant greater trade, protection and peace of mind for all.

Not that there weren't battles being fought. Large numbers of immigrants were arriving on the eastern and southern coasts of the isle to escape the strife and overcrowding on the continent. Up until recently the immigrants had not had the numbers to be of any threat to the allied territories and so had lived and thrived in peace. But now, as their towns became crowded and room for more farming was needed to feed their refugee kinsmen, these new settlers had begun to turn warlike. Eormenric, King of the northern Saxons, and Prince Cadoc, son-in-law of Catulus of Dumnonia, had been fighting back King Cynric of Winchester from their borders for years now. A peaceful resolution to the conflict had proven impossible. Cynric was of the mind to expand his Kingdom across the lower island, and having plenty of reinforcements back home on the continent to draw upon, the Saxon warlord was determined to see his vision realised.

But war was not the order of this day. The new High King was chatting merrily with Prince Bryce of Powys, who'd been appointed guardian of Dyfed in the wake of the Protector's death. Vortimor, Vortipor's son via his second marriage, was the true heir apparent, but as he was only six years old, it had been his father's dying wish
that Prince Bryce become guardian of his son and his Kingdom.

In vast contrast to the general mood of the celebration, Prince Bryce's younger brother, Blain, King of Powys, was appearing rather solemn. He'd spent his life in the shadow of Rhun's achievements, and now his childhood friend and rival had finally succeeded to the rank of High King. Inwardly, Blain must have envied Rhun more than ever before, but by all appearances, he had accepted the decision of the allied council graciously.

Aurelius Urien of Gwent had forged a firm friendship with his neighboring ruler over the years, and was attempting to raise Blain's spirits in his own light-hearted and endearing fashion. In Selwyn's opinion, if the young King of Gwent had been a little older, Urien may well have been High King of Briton at present and would surely be at some future time. He was well liked by everyone within the alliance and his people adored him above all his predecessors. Born a king, Urien had begun to assume the responsibilities of leadership at the age of ten under the guidance of Samson, the Lord Bishop of Glamorgan, and Taliesin, High Merlin of Briton. Schools and places of worship for both the old and new faiths of the people of Gwent had been established within the kingdom. With these reforms encouraging a mutual tolerance for the beliefs of all, the civil unrest that had plagued Gwent since Roman times was quelled.

Conell of Dalriada, son of Fergus, was attempting to brush off a serious conversation with Talorg, who was
seated alongside him. Whatever grievance the Pictish warlord had, he did not appear willing to drop the issue.

Which got Selwyn to wondering if Talorg's woes might have something to do with his Druidess's strange request for an audience?

 

Selwyn exited the Great Hall and a thought found him walking beside the Druidess, Kaileah. She had made her way around to the rear of the outer bailey grounds well away from the commoners' merrymaking, to a quiet and shadowed place.

The Druidess seemed impressed as Selwyn appeared alongside her. ‘I envy this talent, druid.' She cast an eye about to check for possible voyeurs. ‘And wonder if we might make greater use of it?'

‘My skills art at thy disposal.' Selwyn couldn't deny feeling rather gallant as he held out his hands to the mysterious woman. ‘Name thy destination.'

Kaileah did not hesitate to take hold of his hands. ‘Take me to a sacred crossing,' she bid him.

Between Bangor and Degannwy, a circle of stones marked one such sacred crossing. Selwyn was familiar with the place and willed them to the location on the edge of the moors, south of Penmaenmawr.

The raven woman's eyes parted wide in awe, as the blue-white light of the ethers blurred the night shadows with a celestial illumination.

The etheric blanket of light dispersed into the darkness, leaving the two holy people standing out on the open moonlit moor as a wild, chilly wind whipped across the open landscape.

Kaileah let go of Selwyn's hands, seeming perplexed. ‘We came forth through Annwn?'

‘That we did,' Selwyn confirmed.

‘Then why can thee not reside there?' Kaileah questioned to satisfy her curiosity.

Selwyn frowned. What information had the Druidess obtained about him to prompt such a query? And how, or from whom, had she been enlightened? ‘I offended Gwyn ap Nudd once and although he still grants me passage through Annwn, I am only permitted to disembark in his realms at the Night Hunter's express invitation.'

‘That explains it.' She was gratified by his answer and the smile she gave herself seemed to indicate that her curiosity stemmed from a longer-standing mystery than just her recent observation.

‘I am afraid I do not follow thee?' Selwyn, feeling a little vulnerable, urged her to state her reasons for this meeting.

‘The Night Hunter wishes an audience with thee,' the Druidess explained, pulling from the folds of her cloak a tiny pot with a stopper in the top. ‘Drink this,' she instructed, whereupon Selwyn backed up a few paces.

‘No offence to thee, but I am not the Night Hunter's favourite person,' he explained, reluctant to comply. ‘How do I know that dost not contain poison?'

Kaileah appeared perturbed by the notion, but in order to fulfil her duty to her Lord, she lifted the little pot and poured the contents into her own mouth.

As she moved toward Selwyn, he was transfixed by the expectation of what the Druidess meant to do
next. Close now, Kaileah reached both her hands up behind Selwyn's head and, gripping hold, she drew his lips to her own. The sweet herbal brew flowed forth into Selwyn's mouth — although he barely noticed, lost in the kiss of the transfer. His body began to tingle all over, his head felt light and even a little dizzy.

Druid?

Somewhere in the far off distance, beyond the sound of his heart pounding ten-to-the-dozen in his chest, Selwyn could vaguely make out someone calling.

Druid!

The call for attention was much louder this time, and Selwyn recognised the voice with a shudder.

 

The Merlin opened his eyes to find Kaileah and the darkness had departed. The stone circle was lit by the radiant life force in the landscape of Annwn, and Gwyn ap Nudd stood opposite Selwyn.

Sorry to distract thee from indulging my disciple, druid …
the Night Hunter placed his hands on his hips to lecture.
It seems every time we meet thou art accosting one of my women.

‘Perhaps if my Lord would stop directing his womenfolk to seek me out, this would not be the case.' Selwyn brushed off the disappointment of his change in circumstance.

A physical affinity with a human of the opposite gender was an unprecedented incident in the Merlin's forty-eight years of life. The Druidess, Kaileah, had been proving a distraction to him of late; that, he couldn't
deny. Selwyn felt it a great shame that her kiss had not come from the heart.

‘Thy disciple, Kaileah, said thee wished an audience, and I feel sure that there was a good reason,' he prompted, in a not so friendly tone of voice.

A conspiracy of silence spreads itself through the courtroom of my newly appointed High King.
Gwyn captured his guest's full attention with the statement.
Good enough?

‘This very night!' Selwyn exclaimed in disbelief — everyone at the celebration had seemed so joyous, except … ‘Talorg.' Selwyn took a wild guess at the identity of the instigator.

Even drunk, thou art still observant, merlin.
Gwyn smiled his devilish smile
. There exists another claimant to the Pictish throne, Bridei, who hast now come of age and will challenge Talorg's leadership.

‘But these art civil matters of Alban and no concern of —'

Do hush, merlin, and listen. Maelgwn Gwynedd had a Pictish grandmother who came to settle in Gwynedd with her husband, Einion Yrth, son of Cunedda. Her sister stayed in Alban to beget the sons of their royal line, as ascendancy to the crown passes through the female line of the Pictish and not the male line as with the Britons.

‘Art thou saying that this … Bridei, be kindred to my Kings?' Selwyn jumped to the conclusion.

That I am … but to my High King, he means so much more than this.
Gwyn moved closer to the Druid to speak more intimately and, so as not to tower over his guest, the Night Hunter crossed his legs and seated himself on
the ground. Selwyn sat also.
It is imperative that my appointed one meets with Bridei before Talorg persuades the council to support him in his battle against the rightful heir.

‘But the High King will always seek a peaceful resolution before declaring war —'

Not if most of his allies support Talorg. And they will, to keep Rhun and Bridei from ever meeting. Talorg knows that the pair will form a very powerful bond should either become aware of the other's existence.

‘How doth he know? It hast been foreseen?' Selwyn had to assume.

No, not foreseen, just seen.
Gwyn made a circle with his hand, which produced a large bubble that came to float before the Merlin's eyes.

Inside the sphere, Selwyn saw Rhun painted up like a Pictish warrior. ‘This must be my High King in the future,' Selwyn deduced, puzzled to note that Rhun appeared a younger man in the image.

The Night Hunter raised his brow, knowing the news would come as a shock.
It be Bridei, at present.

‘But they could be twins!' Selwyn's voice went hoarse with shock, as he gazed at the image of the Pictish Warlord.

They are one,
Gwyn ap Nudd assured the Merlin.

 

As I began to emerge from the regression and my mind became conscious of where I was and what was occurring, my relaxed state of wonder and intrigue turned to frustration. Who had dared to disturb my research?

‘My greatest apologies, En Noah, but I couldn't wait a moment longer.'

Before I could pry my heavy eyelids apart, the whispered explanation was followed by a deep and meaningful kiss.

There was no need to open my eyes to confirm that Rebecca was back.

The sweet scent of wildflower essences, that accompanied her everywhere, alerted my affection-starved emotions to the fact that the drought was over. ‘Goddess, I hope that's you, Becky,' I mumbled, my eyes lulled closed in happy delirium. She straddled her legs to seat herself in my lap, whereupon my fingers encountered her naked body and my eyes parted wide.

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