Page 338 of The Daughters of Avalon
After all these years, there it was… with its intricately crafted serpents entwined about the elegantly fashioned hilt…
Shaken by the sight of it, Cael’s fingers ached to reach for it, but he met Seren’s gaze, aware that his wife was watching him carefully.
This was not revealed to her yet… his relation to the sword. His relation to her kinsmen. His vow to kill everyone who bore Taliesin’s blood. All his dark and terrible secrets. Even now the sword called to him, beguiling…
“All that you give you must give freely,” said Seren. “Once again the sword has been imbued, so that he who wields it will not bleed. Even now my mother gathers the heirs to the twelve who conspired to betray you. She will give you all you seek, and more… wealth, power… Anglesey…”
Try though he might, Cael could not avert his gaze from that shining blade. “I… I don’t want it,” he said, not trusting himself to touch it. The temptation was all too real. With that sword, he could retake Wales.
He could rebuild his isle.
He could?—
“Cael?” said Rhiannon, sounding bemused.
Seren waited.
It was his to take…
“Cael?”
“I… am… not… Cael,” he said as he accepted the proffered sword. He lifted it high to inspect it, then brought it down with a confident swing, reveling in the feel of it.
“I am Maelgwn ap Cadwallon, true King of Gwynedd, Dragon Lord of Anglesey, firstborn son of Cadwallon Lawhir.”
Chapter
Thirty-Five
Maelgwn would love to have imagined a collective gasp.
Alas, there was only one… the one emitted by his wife… the only person he did not wish to displease.
At least… this was not the way he’d wished to reveal himself.
And so, it seemed, the remainder of those gathered already knew who he was… and still they would grant him the sword.
For a long moment, that fact left him reeling, confused, though he’d reached for the sword anyway, the temptation too difficult to resist.
The very instant the cold steel had met his flesh—familiar even through the ages—it sent a sizzle through his veins, a surge of vigor and strength that hardened his cock where he stood. His breath halted over the feel ofCaledfwlchin his hands, the fine way the pommel melded with his palm, the precisely honed steel crafted only for him… so long he’d coveted this weapon, even after it stole his life, and everything he’d loved…
Even now, he was a man possessed, willing to gamble for the sword, no matter the cost.
“Is it true?” asked his wife softly, her voice filled with pain.
She was astute enough to understand what was happening.
Rhiannon was no fool; she knew full well what things were possible throughmagik. Although she hadn’t once suspected who he was, he knew she would know the truth when she heard it… and when he met her gaze, the look on her face filled him with dread. He responded instinctively, merely intending to remind her of her promises to him and her place by his side. The words came out harsher and less hospitable than he’d intended. “’Tis true,” he said. “Iamthe Dragon Lord, and lest you forget,youaremywife!”
Rhiannon stood then, formidable as any woman could be. “Nay,” she said. “Need I remind you, my lord? I am a Pendragon. I make up my own mind who I stand beside.” And then, very swiftly gathering her skirts, she marched out of the hall, all three of her sisters filing out behind her.
“Rhiannon!” shouted Elspeth. “Wait!”
She was immediately followed by Rosalynde, but neither of her sisters could break her pace. Rhiannon disappeared from his sight, and Seren turned to give him a subtle smile, though her final words as she followed Rhiannon were not for her departing sister. She said quietly to Cael, “That sword is a gift, my lord. But so, it seems, you’ve not yet earned my sister’s trust. Both are Goddess-given. One may provide you Wales, the other will gift your true heart’s desire. Choose wisely, Dragon Lord, or you may lose them both.”
Rhiannon had knownhe was keeping secrets from her—something dark and dreadful. And yet, she would never have imagined it could be this—notthis.
Sweet fates!
