Page 45 of The Road to Avalon
Llawfrodedd hesitated only a brief moment then stepped toward her. “Meleri!”
She hurled herself at him, her small arms clutching his body. Being a good foot taller than she was, he swung her off her feet and twirled her around, his own face suffused with so much joy, tears pricked my eyes.
Setting her down, he held her at arm’s length, studying her. “My,” he said after a moment, his voice breathless. “How you’ve grown, but I’d still have recognized you any day.”
She had a look of her brother, with the same homely, but cheery face and kind eyes. She’d never have physical beauty, but the beauty of her soul shone out of her excited face.
The woman huffed up to us. Elderly and gray-haired, with the portly squishiness of a matron, a worried frown creased her brow.
“Mami,” Meleri cried. “You were right. ’Tis my brother come back to me.”
The woman looked Llawfrodedd up and down, a wary expression in her eyes. “My oh my, but she be right. ’Tis young Llawfrodedd come back to us all right.” She took the girl’s hand, squeezing it tight. “Come to see if your sister be doin’ well, now you’re a fine soldier, I see.” Her voice prickled with defensive concern.
Meleri beamed up at her foster mother, the look of love in her eyes.
Llawfrodedd grinned as well. “Not just a soldier, Ailidh. I’m a warrior of the High King, and I’m escorting his Queen on a mission of much urgency. I have little time to pause here, but the Princess,” he threw Archfedd a grateful gaze, “knew my longing to see my sister again, and she asked the Queen if we could stop here to water our horses and eat our midday meal.”
The woman’s frown lessened. Maybe at first, she’d suspected he’d arrived to take his sister back, and now she’d heard his reason for being here, she felt more confident. And all these armed warriors didn’t look as though they’d be prepared to take a girl child along with them. A smile creased her wrinkled face. “She does well, as you c’n see.” She put an arm around the girl’s narrow shoulders. “And she’s been a boon to me with my sons grown and gone. A light for my old age.”
“And Bredon?” Llawfrodedd asked, peering over her shoulder hopefully. “How does he?”
Mother and daughter’s faces clouded. “My husband did die a twelve-month gone,” Ailidh said, with a deep sigh. “A shortness of breath did take him. Weren’t nothin’ we could do. We sore miss him, the both of us.”
Meleri’s face puckered. “He were like a true father to me, Brother.”
Time for me to intervene. I stepped up to Ailidh and held my hands out to her.
She bobbed a bow, and, rising, took them. Hers were rough and callused with work, the fingers ingrained with dirt from daily toil. “Milady.”
I smiled. “May I offer my sympathies for your loss. I can see by the way your daughter looks at you that you’ve been a true mother to her. Have no fear– we are only passing through your town. No one will take your child from you.” Just in case she was still worrying.
The girl looked up at her elderly foster-mother and smiled. The love between them shone like a beacon; she’d fallen on her feet there. I hoped Llawfrodedd would be satisfied now he’d seen her. It would have been too cruel to try and separate the two women.
Llawfrodedd nodded. “All I wanted was to see my sister again. And you, too, Ailidh. To thank you for your kindness to Meleri. I’m just sad I came too late to be able to thank good Bredon, too.” He took a step toward her. “You have been the mother she could never have hoped for.” He took her in his arms and held her close. “Thank you.” The last words came out in a whisper against her ear that only I was close enough to hear.
When he released Ailidh, I saw her eyes shone wet with unshed tears.
Things began to look up straightaway.
Once the townsfolk realized who we were and that Llawfrodedd was one of them made good, they brought out all sorts of things: chairs to sit on, their best wine and cider that they’d been saving for a special occasion, fresh baked honey cakes, loaves of bread and a cauldron of soup from one house to share amongst us.
Stories were bandied about, made greater in the retelling, of how we’d ridden to their rescue and defeated the wicked Irish raiders. Oddly, their own part in this defeat, from the safety of the forest, had grown out of all proportion, but I made no comment.
Meleri sat close beside Llawfrodedd while he ate, her foster-mother watching with an indulgent smile on her lips, listening as he recounted stories of his life at the High King’s court and all he’d seen to please his little sister. This would give them great standing with their fellow townspeople and be the stuff of tales to be told round hearth fires for years to come. The time when their own Llawfrodedd returned to his people as a great warrior in the company of Queen Guinevere, wife of King Arthur, their High King.
But all too soon we had to be on our way. Llawfrodedd embraced his sister with regret, and tears on her part, and her foster-mother with gratitude, then mounted up last of all of us. We departed with many backward glances as those kind people waved us off.
I couldn’t help but notice Archfedd as she brought her horse up close beside her friend’s. Her hand went out to cover his where he gripped the reins, his face set and sad. They would make such a good pairing. I’d speak to Arthur on our return, if all went well.
We pressed on another thirty miles that day and made camp as evening fell close beside the road in the ruins of an old farmstead. I posted sentries, and the men cooked a stew from dried meat, barley, onions and cider over a small fire. We scraped it up with the fresh bread the people of Breguoin had given us.
Unrolling my blankets, I spread them beside where Archfedd already lay curled up in hers, prepared for another sleepless night. The men were all doing the same, but for the ones on first watch. By the glowing embers of the fire, Merlin sat alone, shoulders hunched, wineskin in hand.
Abandoning my sleeping spot, I sat down beside him.
“Are we going the right way?” I asked.
He turned his head, his eyes catching the dying firelight. “I don’t know.”
