Page 341 of The Daughters of Avalon
“Long enough,” she said, before sauntering within. “If you do not mind, this is my story to tell.” And true to form, she did not wait for permission. Without preamble, she confessed her story to the sisters—her love affair with Morwen, her departure from Blackwood after Ellie was born, as well as her very brief, but bittersweet betrothal to Cael.
Apparently, it was the real Cael d’Lucy who was once affianced to her, not Maelgwn ap Cadwallon. Ever-ready to use her minions to her own selfish purpose—even someone she claimed to love—Morwen had urged Marcella to play the part of d’Lucy’s betrothed, only to claim Blackwood. If, indeed, thosetwo had wed, and Morwen had managed to wrest Blackwood by another means, she would have forgotten all about her daughters. Originally, it was her plan to share it all with Marcella.
“D’Lucy was a fool,” the paladin explained. “A poppet, too easily led.” Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, as the case must be for Cael, Morwen discovered agrisial hud, like that one she kept around her neck. She performed the same blood rite that was performed to summon her return, though I do believe she anticipated it must be Taliesin’s crystal, and she meant to end him once and for all.” Marcella smiled benevolently at Rhiannon. “It wasn’t, of course. The reliquary belonged to Maelgwn ap Cadwallon, and once he assumed d’Lucy’s body, your mother had a change in plans.”
“Please, do tell,” said Elspeth, smartly.
Marcella eyed her cannily. “At first, she thought she might wed him herself, but he was never interested in the least. Oh, he gave her his fealty quick enough, as well as the use of his sword, but never his cock.”
Rhiannon blushed hotly, feeling some measure of relief. She looked to see that her sisters’ eyes widened over Marcella’s crude language, but no one dared utter a word in rebuke, and Marcella continued. “Eventually she sent meawayto spy on the Holy Roman Emperor, whilst she remained in England to press her wiles. I suppose I grew tired of her lies and found myself inspired by your sister Matilda.”
Elspeth visibly softened, as she confessed, “She inspires me as well. I knew her to be driven, even as a young girl. When William died, I hoped my father would cede her his throne—and, of course, he did. But clearly this is not a woman’s time to rule.” Her tone sounded disappointed now, and she found even more cause to commune with Marcella.
“Alas, my friend, a woman’s arse might not be allowed to warm a throne, but no good king ever reigned without a good woman at his side.”
“Indeed,” said Elspeth, as she nodded. “So, was it then you joined the Guard?”
Marcella nodded. “Indeed. And it was your sister who arranged it. I served as her personal guard for a long time, and then, when her husband died, and she was sent away, she made certain I was given an assignment with the Guard.” She grinned then. “I was not entirely welcome.”
The sisters all laughed, only imagining the first time Marcella had walked into their company.
“Marcella is adewine,” offered Rhiannon. “Aligned to earth, alchemy her calling.”
“Is that true?” asked Elspeth. And then she put a hand to her breast. “I, too, am aligned to earth.”
“Aye, so I am told,” said the paladin. “We have this in common.”
Only Seren seemed unsurprised by these revelations. Her sister sat quietly for a moment as they all discussed the potential applications for the pursuant battle.
Elspeth could help with a few more warding spells. She and Rosalynde had discovered some way to createwitchwater, though not the type that needed summoning. With so much water lying about, it would be easy enough to gather it all into the motte. Whatever became of anyone who fell into it was entirely up to the gods.
“That’s a good idea,” said Marcella. “I have herbs that could enhance the brew.” But, really, it was only a half measure. The five of them alone, even working all together, wouldn’t be any true match for Morwen and an entire army of her creatures. No doubt she was gathering all her sycophants, else she’d alreadyhave been here by now. What they really needed was aid from Scotia, Stephen and the Church.
“Speaking of which, I suppose I should say that Jack has joined the Guard as well.”
“Jack?” the sisters, all but Rhiannon, asked in unison.
It was Rhiannon who nodded, and then explained. “He and Marcella escorted me from Blackwood together. He’s gone to seek the aid of Cael’s…cousin…”
Implicit in that disclosure was the truth of the matter: The lord of Drakewich was not her husband’s cousin.
Would he ever be told the truth? And if so, what purpose would it serve? Not only was it inexplicable, but it was also far too fantastical to be believed: witches, demons,Sylphs, angels, gods andmagik. And Cael—she did not know him as Maelgwn and refused to think of him thus—was for all intents and purposes, a demon, summoned byhud du. The very thought made Rhiannon’s head hurt. Somehow, she, a daughter of the Goddess, was wedded to a Shadow Beast.
“What a tangled web,” offered Seren, with a shrug.
Cael satwith his head in his hands.
He was not the man he used to be. That man was gone, dead and buried.Quite literally.If he ever chanced to locate where “Maelgwn ap Cadwallon” lay resting, he would unearth a pile of dirty bones.
Or would there be ash?
He didn’t know.
All he knew for certes was this: He was monstrously ashamed of what he was, and what he’d done.
In the end, all he’d sought to achieve would amount to nothing without Rhiannon.
What, indeed, profiteth a man if he gained the entire world, but lost his soul?
