Page 307 of The Daughters of Avalon
“I am not here for Morwen,” he said calmly. “I am here…” His black eyes met Rhiannon’s again, as he said, “For her.”
Apparently satisfied—or as much as she could be under the present circumstances, Marcella re-sheathed her sword, and said, “Then you are a stupid fool. Then, again, from what I know of you, you have always been a fool, Cael d’Lucy, and far be it from you to ever listen to the advice of a woman.”
They decided to make camp,but not for the evening, only to rest the horses and sup, then prepare a new strategy.
Now that Cael had joined them, with news of Morwen, it was perhaps wiser to take stock of their circumstances.
Accordingly, whilst they waited for Jack to return with a stitch of firewood, Cael perched himself on a fallen tree to share some of the details of his return to Blackwood.
Apparently, it was Cael who’d loosed the hounds. One lone wolfhound refused to leave him and remained stubbornly by his side. The enormous beast sat quietly behind him, his eyes never leaving its master. He was like Rhiannon, she supposed—painfully loyal, invisible, besides.
Like that hound, she listened quietly as he discussed hispolitikalmatters with Marcella, only now and again sliding Rhiannon a black-eyed glance.
Marcella relayed the news they’d heard from Stephen’s man this morn—a happenstance that Cael was apparently already aware of. Evidently, he’d been privy to some of the negotiations while he was still in attendance at Wallingford. Perhaps perceiving what was to come, Morwen had summoned him home some weeks past, with demands that he marry Rhiannon once and for all. As of that time, the King and Duke Henry hadn’t yet reached any agreement, although it was apparent they would soon.
Stephen no longer had the will to fight. His eldest living son wasn’t fit to rule. Nor did his youngest have the mind forpolitiks, although Cael suspected William simply wasn’t bold enough to claim what he wanted. Unlike Eustace, who wasbrazen and stupid, William would be the sort to skulk about in the shadows and steal what he wanted through cunning.
The King’s sons had inherited much from their mother, because even despite usurping Henry’s throne, there were many who claimed he was only complicit because he’d believed it was for the good of the realm. Greed was not his sin. Doubtless, he no longer considered this to be the case, and his actions spoke volumes. He was already distancing himself from Morwen, and, with his wife dead, he could far more easily confess the iniquities of his elder son.
As for Morwen, evidently Cael had given her the draught that was intended for him, and this was why she hadn’t given immediate pursuit. In fact, according to her husband, she could be sleeping still, though Rhiannon doubted it. The laws that applied to others did not apply to Morwen. She was, indeed, a force to be reckoned with; the time to face her was growing nigh. Even now, there was an impending sense of doom in the air—a prescience that manifested itself like an ague in the bones, a damp chill that raised the small hairs on her nape.
“By the by,” said Cael, with a wink for Marcella. “Well done. She never once thought to inspect her cauldron.”
The paladin blushed, a rare hint of color appearing in her high cheeks. She looked softer and more vulnerable than she had since Rhiannon met her. She smiled coyly. “Doubtless it was the sweet rot of lilacs,” she explained.
“Brilliant suggestion,” he said. “I only hope she directs her anger accordingly when she wakes.” He exhaled sharply. “I left her with a hall full of sleeping guests.”
Rhiannon grimaced, hoping her mother would be in too much of a hurry to waste time with punishments. Still, it was impossible not to consider the worst-case scenario—that she would wake and slaughter all those innocents, whose worstcrime it was to try to curry favor with the lord of Blackwood by attending his wedding.
In any case, she was relieved to know Cael wasn’t there to suffer whatever fate her mother deemed appropriate.
“They are safer without you,” suggested Marcella. “I warrant she would have abused them only to spite you.”
“I considered that,” admitted Cael.
“Any news of Mordecai?”
“No sign of him. He did not arrive with Morwen, nor did anyone mention him thereafter. She must have put him to another task.”
“Clearly, she trusts you,” said Rhiannon, acerbically.
Cael merely shrugged, ignoring the veiled accusation in her tone. “She trusted my greed and my desire for vengeance,” he readily confessed.
But Rhiannon wasn’t prepared to leave off simply because he’d confessed his sins.
“You should have killed her when you had the chance,” she said sourly. “I know my mother well enough to know she’ll not return the favor when she faces you again. It was stupid and why? What possible reason would you have to spare her? You left her insensate, and vulnerable—precisely as you’d want her to be to vanquish her once and for all. Now, not only will she never let down her guard again, but you’ve lost the opportunity to save more bloodshed.”
He didn’t answer, though he sighed, and then produced the twin reliquaries from about his neck to show them. Side by side, they were indistinguishable.
“That’s it?” asked Marcella. “That’swhat she’s been holding over you all these years?”
He nodded. “This is it,” he said, casting another brief glance at Rhiannon. Marcella, too, slid Rhiannon a careful glance, andRhiannon realized there was more to this story—inconceivably so, as there was so much she’d already learned.
How many secrets did one man keep?
How complicit was he in her mother’s machinations?
And nay; she didn’t like it that he confided so much in Marcella—shouldn’t Rhiannon be the one to know her husband best? Even if her marriage wasn’t a sham, she’d spent these past five years with Cael, and clearly, there was a lot he’d never bothered to share with her.
