Page 80 of The Road to Avalon
Was that amusement in Cei’s blue eyes?
Arthur huffed. He didn’t look so gaunt now, but his eyes betrayed his anger and frustration. “You can’t stay here forever.”
I gave him a sweet smile. “I think you’ll find we can.”
He departed in high dudgeon, if that was a word you could use to describe an incandescently angry man.
A few days after that, Medraut turned up, and again we had good warning.
He was a different basket of eels though, all smiles and gentle words. The girls stayed hidden again, but from the way his eyes roamed the interior of the church and lingered on their closed door, he had no trouble guessing where they were.
“Aunt Gwen,” he wheedled, leaning on the same doorpost I’d leaned on myself, while Gildas watched him with eagle eyes and his hefty staff in his hand. I’d confided all our fears and suspicions in my friend, and he’d vowed to help.
“Please don’t call me aunt,” I said, cold as ice. “I don’t wish to acknowledge any relationship with you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Then I shall call you Gwen.”
“Only my friends can do that.”
He grinned, reminding me all too much of Cadwy, only he was more devious and far cleverer than his uncle could ever have been. A much more dangerous opponent. “Then I shall count myself as one of your friends.”
“By invitation only,” I said. “And I don’t recall inviting you.”
He chuckled. “I relish your wit… Gwen. But enough of that. I’m here to collect my bride. The marriage is to be tomorrow. It’s been delayed enough already, and she needs to return with me to Din Cadan to prepare herself.”
“Well, you’ll be disappointed then,” I snapped. “Because she’s not coming.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, Gwen. Something you haven’t realized, as yet. Ialwaysget what I want. I shall have your daughter and make her mine, and there’s nothing you’ll be able to do about it.”
The itch to hit him welled up in me, my fists balling by my sides.
His eyes flicked down, and he shook his head, still laughing. “And don’t think you could ever best me. If you even try to strike me, I’ll be quicker, and I’ll have you out of your sanctuary in a trice.” He kept his voice low. No doubt he didn’t want Gildas overhearingthat.
I bristled internally and with careful deliberation unclenched my fists. Schooling my face into a sweet smile I looked him in the eye. “No doubt you could, as you have no respect for the law. A scoundrel who thinks nothing of creeping up behind an unarmed man in the dark to slit his throat would have no compunction about snatching someone from sanctuary. How lucky I am that you’ve come alone, and my dear friend Gildas is right here with his staff.”
His eyes flashed in anger for a moment before he had himself under control again. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. We know who killed my uncle’s bastard– his brother.Yourtreacherous son. You’re deluding yourself if you think I had anything to do with it.”
But I could hear the lie in his voice and see it in his eyes. Why hadn’t I realized before this? Could I have made Arthur believe me? Probably not. He’d have thought me trying to blame anyone but my guilt-tainted son.
I smiled back even more sweetly. “And you’re deluding yourself if you think I’m going to believe your lies. We’re protected here. Archfedd stays put. You’d better take yourself back to Din Cadan and pray my husband doesn’t work out for himself who really killed his sons. Because even if you didn’t wield the sword that killed Amhar, his death lies at your door.”
Medraut leaned toward me, without moving his feet. His whisper hissed around the quiet church. “He won’t. He has a mistaken idea of chivalry that’ll keep him from the truth. You mark my words.” He withdrew. “I’ll leave you now to think about that. But I’ll be back. And when I’m next here, I’ll be taking your daughter home with me.”
After he’d gone, the girls emerged, hot and sweaty from being incarcerated in that tiny, airless room, but I didn’t reveal what he’d said. Instead, my heart hollow with fear, I brooded upon his words by myself, unable to decide what to do.
I’d known this was coming, well, I’d suspected it at any rate, for such a long time that now it seemed to be upon us, I couldn’t quite believe it. Medraut was in the position the legends had given him, a position I’d never thought he could take. Arthur’s heir. Merlin was missing in action, and I was stuck in Ynys Witrin, protecting my two girls. I couldn’t get to Arthur to warn him about Medraut– and if I did he’d never have believed me. He’d have accused me of clutching at straws, of not wanting to blame Amhar. How cleverly I’d been played by fate.
We began to settle into our life at the abbey. From inside our storeroom chamber, we listened in on every service the monks held. Reaghan, possibly a little indoctrinated after her time at the chapel, knelt and joined in their prayers and chanting in a whisper so they wouldn’t hear her. Archfedd and I lay on our beds waiting for the services to be over so we could get out of the stuffy heat and into the fresh air again.
The one thing that bothered me though, over and above the fear of being snatched from sanctuary, was the growing suspicion that after fifteen years, and at past forty, I was pregnant again. I’d been feeling sick on and off for weeks, but put it down to worry, and my lack of a period down to not having eaten and the tension I was undergoing. But at last, I could ignore it no longer. If I wasn’t pregnant, then something weird was going on. However, as that was the least of my worries right now, I pushed it aside to think about later.
Knowing we were safe for the time being with the guard on the monks’ wharf, we were able to help the monks and lay brothers in the abbey gardens, which kept us occupied during the days and made us tired enough to sleep well at night, despite the oppressive heat in the storeroom. Days passed, gradually turning into weeks, and in the fields the corn was almost ripe and ready to harvest. And to my surprise, no further visitations occurred.
Until the day Llawfrodedd arrived. We’d had warning that a boat had landed a warrior on the island, so were all inside the church when he came striding into the courtyard, his cloak over one arm and the dust of the road on his boots.
With a squeal of excitement, Archfedd abandoned caution and bolted across the cobbles to throw herself into his arms. Absence had definitely made her heart grow fonder.
Llawfrodedd wrapped his arms around her and swung her off her feet, his face alight with joy. Before he had time to put her down, she planted a kiss on his lips. “Llawfrodedd, I knew you’d come!”
