The Beast of Caer Baddan (68 page)

But his mother had meant for him to live, and he was determined to do just that.

He fought on, no matter what the agony of his body.

Then
came the low rumbling blast of the carnyx, and Owain's ears cleared at the sound.

Owain could hear the instrument buzz over cries of war, and his wary heart birthed new hope.

“The Army is here!” someone yelled.

Owain knew that Swale and the Army of Albion, his Army, would arrive. His sword found a quickened pace, beating the Angle warriors down in every direction, until those around him were his own Britannae soldiers.

“Owain! Owain! Owain!” they cried.

His body gave way, and he collapsed in their open arms.

“For the land!” he cried, but his voice failed him.

“Dominae!” a centurion cried.

“Get to the beach!” Owain moaned. “Save King Vindi!”

The soldiers set him down on the ground and left for the other battle.

Owain lay still for a long time, too weary to think or move. Every part of him was so exhausted that he was unsure if he should ever rise again.

Owain looked about and noticed at a great distance, just at the edge of the woods, stood a woman. She was very old, perhaps the age his great-grandfather, King Rheiden, might have been had he still lived. She was also very beautiful, with soft skin and tender eyes that gazed on him as if she was looking at his very soul.

“What is it?” Owain asked her, although he knew that from that distance, she could not hear his voice.

The old woman just looked on him and then smiled a broad, happy smile that warmed his heart.

“Do I know you?” Owain whispered.

He felt that she answered him, not in words but in a deep sigh. It brushed his tired face like a cool breeze and seemed to fill up his whole being with ease and peace.

And then, as if just a ghost, she turned away and disappeared like a mist into the thickness of the trees.

Owain closed his tired eyes and breathed deeply of the cool wind.

“The
Phantom Queen,” he whispered.

Owain breathed in deep of cleansing air. He felt the anguish and pain of nearly eighteen years wash out of him. Now, after all of his guilt and heartache, he thought that his spirit must be wrapped in comfort and security. It was as if he had been dreaming and reliving a horrible nightmare, from which he now awoke and saw the world as it really was. He had born a heavy burden and was now free, released, and at peace.

Chapter Fifty Five: The Other Knowing

Annon’s faint voice at a distant forced Owain to return to the present battle aftermath.

“You live?” the boy cried.
“Barbarian!”

Owain looked over to see Annon’s approaching one of the wounded
enemy. The Angle warrior was dressed lavishly and lying paralyzed in the dirt. Owain saw at once that the man as Tytmon the Angle king.

“I’ll teach you!” Annon cried.

The boy drew his sword and hacked at the Angle king’s torso. His long sword struck more earth than flesh with every swing, and although King Tytmon's wounds were aggravated, it was clear to Owain that the man was still alive.

“Die!” Annon screamed in frustration.
“Die, you miserable barbarian!”

“Annon!”
Britu cried in rebuke.

He put up a controlling hand to still the boy’s sword, but Annon swung at him.

“Let me alone!” the boy cried. “Let me alone!”

Britu pulled up his shield to block the beating, and Annon’s sword fell on its bronze boss in rapid motion.

“Annon!” Swale cried. “Stop that!”

Annon struck at him, and Swale caught his swing with his own weapon.

“Go away!” Annon cried.

Owain forced his body to move forward, finding his shaking legs beneath him. He came up behind the boy and linked his arms over the boy’s shoulders. Owain then forced Annon's arms back, holding him fast.

“Let go of me!” Annon screamed. “Let go! Let go! Let go!”

“Swale,” Owain
said, his throat still raw, “disarm him.”

Swale used his own sword to hook Annon’s weapon up at its guard and then twisted it from the boy's hand.

“Leave me alone!” Annon screamed. “Give that back!”

“Britu, kill King Tytmon,” Owain said.

“No!” Annon screamed. “He’s mine! You hear me? He’s mine! I’m going to kill him!”

Britu drew his sword and drove it deep into the Angle king’s open mouth.

“Nooooooo!” Annon screamed. “You can’t! You can’t!”

He kicked at the air before him, but Owain’s firm arms held him captive. In spite of his weariness, Owain knew he could not allow Annon to continue in this way, and thus held him secure and would not let go.

“We shall be back for dinner,” Owain said to Swale and Britu.

“Very well, Owain,” Britu said.

“I shall see to the soldiers,” Swale said.

“Good,” Owain replied.

He scooped Annon up as one would a baby and carried him off. Annon screamed and protested, striking at Owain with his bony fists. Owain was relentless, taking him through the piles of dead war ponies, battered armor, and the still corpses of the Angle warriors, and into the woods.

“Let go of me!” Annon screamed. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

Owain sat down on the ground under a wide truncked ash tree and coddled the boy.

“Shh,” he said. “I know. I know.”

“Why did you not kill them all?” Annon cried, and began to weep bitter tears. “You should have them all!”

Owain knew that the boy’s thoughts were not on the Angle they had just vanquished but instead on a battle fought over two years ago in the distant Kingdom of Alt Clut.

“I killed whom I had to kill, Annon,” Owain replied.

“But they were going to eat me!” Annon screamed.

“Shh,” Owain said. “You are safe now, Annon. There are no Attacotti here or anywhere outside of Alt Clut.”

“They were going to eat me!” the boy muttered, again. “They killed everyone, my teacher, my servants, my guards! Then they chained me to a wall! They said they were going to eat me but I was too skinny! They said they would fatten me up!”

“Shh.”

“Why did you not kill them all?”

Owain thought on his entrance into the fortress and seeing young Annon hanging up on the wall. The boy's arms and legs had been bound with chains and his head was limp, but Owain could see that he was very much alive.

Owain remembered how he fought the Attacotti warriors, slaying each one in turn. He thought of how he broke the chains, and Annon fell into his open arms. He remembered the Attacotti children who huddled in the corner, shaking from fear as they looked on Owain, the intruder in their home.

“Shh,” Owain said to Annon. “I killed whom I had to kill and not one more.”

Owain rocked the boy back and forth until he grew quiet.

“I wish I was like you, Prince Owain,” Annon muttered. “I wish I wasn’t afraid of anything.”

“Only fools are afraid of nothing, Annon,” Owain said, with a smile. “But in a few years you shall be a great warrior yourself. And then you shall remember those dark days as a trial that you overcame, and they shall be a nightmare no more.”

Annon laughed through his tears. “I wish they were all gone.”

“You fought bravely,” Owain said.
“Now twice. But that does not mean that you know everything. You have much to learn of yourself and only time and experience shall teach you that. Your time with the Attacotti is one such lesson. If it disappeared then you would not learn anything from it.”

Annon thought on this a moment.

“And what about you, Prince?” he asked. “What do you learn from your experiences?”

“Too much!”
Owain said with a laugh. “That I must put others first before myself. That the things I thought I needed most were just vain distractions from the pain I felt inside of me. Many, many things.”

Annon was quiet once more, and Owain began to think of the most resent battle and what he had gained from it.

When Owain and Annon entered the meeting tent, Swale, Britu, King Vendi, and Lady Rhian grew quiet.

Annon stared at his feet and cleared his throat.

“Prince Swale and Prince Britu,” he said, “I have behaved badly towards you and I apologize.”

“Thank you, Annon,” they replied.

“You are not angry with me?” the boy asked.

“No, of course not,” Britu said. “It was your second battle.”

“I can recall my second battle,” King Vindi said, with a laugh. “My first battle, my uncle watched over me and saw that I was never in any danger. But my second, I was on my own, and nearly died a dozen times. At the end of it, I just stood there and wept like a little child.”

“End of my first battle,” Swale said, “I was so upset,
I ran back to my tent and hid under my cot. King Irael had to coax me out.”

Lady Rhian laughed as well. “I did that,” she said. “Two weeks after I was made Warrioress of Ebrauc, one of the queens goes and murders her daughter. It was the first time I had to execute someone. I was so horrified, and my father was so embarrassed by me. I did not think that was fair.”