Page 320 of The Daughters of Avalon
Her sister’s husband?
What were the odds?
Small, in truth, lest the fates be bound.
Rhiannon recognized him as well, despite that she’d only seen him once in a vision—more than four years ago when he’d first encountered her sister en route to Aldergh… before their mother placed her in shackles.
“God’s bones,” said Cael. “It is him.”
So far, neither man on the ground had any sense of their presence, so preoccupied were they with the soldiers on the wall. And yet, the man on the wall did note them. His hands fell from his hips, and he retreated a few steps, then returned. Rhiannon could see the color of fear rising in his aura, even from this distance—brown as the loamy fields stretching before the castle.
“I must speak to him,” said Rhiannon, as she rushed to dismount.
“Nay,” said Cael, restraining her with a hand to her breast.
“Please!” she begged.
“Nay,” he said, and before she could protest, Rhiannon suffered another vision—the first since removing her shackles. The intensity of it dizzied her, and any complaint she might have uttered died in her throat. It was no more than a fleeting glance, but when it was gone, she suddenly understood… and swallowed, hard.
This was the place…
Here.
This was where they would face Morwen—this monstrosity of construction, with its melancholy spirit and cadaverous stench.
“I’ll go,” offered Jack.
“Nay,” said Marcella. “I will go.”
And before anyone could stop her, she spurred her mount ahead, covering the distance quickly, her dark hair sweeping her back as she shouted in greeting.
“Hail, brother!” she said, waving in greeting.
Both men spun about, drawing swords. Giles froze when he saw her—thank God. They were far enough away that no one could intervene if he meant to cut her down.
To everyone’s relief, both men re-sheathed their weapons, and Marcella stood speaking to them a long moment, then she waved the rest of them forward as she dismounted.
Jack complied at once.
Only Cael hesitated. “Until I know what they’re doing here, say nothing, Rhiannon.”
“He’s my brother by law,” she argued. “Why would you believe he would do me harm?”
Silence was Cael’s response, but he nudged his destrier forward.
Rhiannon persisted. “We are en route to Warkworth, where you wouldst seek the man’s aid. Why does it matterwherehe is? Inexplicably, he’s here, when we need him most. I call it a gift from the Goddess.”
“Rather convenient, don’t you think?”
“She works in mysterious ways,” apprised Rhiannon.
“Aye well, you’d do well to remember that your mother is a child of the Goddess, as well.”
No doubt that was true, but Rhiannon also haddewineblood in her veins. She spoke her true heart and found lies distasteful. No one knew this more than Cael.
How many times had he begged her to pretend? All Rhiannon ever had to do was to marry him and bow to her mother, and never could she allow herself to do so.
In all her life she’d only spoken one lie—one—and that was the night she’d convinced Elspeth to escape Llanthony. She’d told all her sisters that she’d envisaged the future and that Cael would never have her. But even then, she’d known that wasn’t true. The lord of Blackwood would have wed himself to a leper for the promise of Wales.
