17: A Challenged Secret

Chapter 17 of "A River Trembles", Book Two of The Môrdreigiau Chronicles

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The story began in A Grail for Eidothea. You really need to catch up to make sense of A River Trembles. Go on, save this post and go have a binge read. You deserve it.

Llyr asked Maeve for help removing the barrier between he and Eidothea. She’s wasn’t very helpful. Looks like Rhiannon and Emrys have a past, or at least a mutual friend: Gorawyn, his consort, now deceased. Three weeks passed. Llyr and Ceridwy joined in the summer solstice planning.

I gained a few hours of free time one morning. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Llyr since the summer solstice planning. I did not want to be at odds with him.

I strode through the caer. The gossip current followed me. Even with the jewellery piece concealing my fiery blue Chosen mark, enough dreigiau môr recognised me.

I rapped on the front door of Llyr’s home. Ondine answered, her eyes widening at the sight of me.

:I’ve come to see Llyr.:

Her wide-eyed expression became one of warm delight. :Let me take you to him.: She led me to an inner atrium.

Llyr sat on … nothing. Crosslegged, he floated a couple of feet above the couch. The ends of his robe drifted below his legs. His arms rested on his knees. His look of serene concentration stole my breath.

:Llyr,: I murmured.

His eyes flashed open. He tumbled to the floor. :What—what are you doing here?:

Ondine giggled. :I’ll leave you to it.:

:I have come here to apologise.: I sat on the same couch he scrambled back onto. :I should have trusted you, not acted on my own, but I did not know if I could convince the Esteemed to our side.:

:You trusted him and not me,: Llyr stated flatly. :Why can’t you trust your prophet?:

I had asked myself the same question. :I am used to relying on myself or my father and no one else. The Esteemed reminded me of my father.:

:He’s old enough,: Llyr ground out. :You trusted me when you first came to Caer Morgana. Can’t you trust me again?:

:You lied to me about the Grail, about what that silver potion would do—:

:I didn’t lie about that. It did heal you.:

:But I was unprepared—:

:Everything worked out.:

Not quite everything. :I am weary of those who take well-meaning action but never inform the one they wish to protect. Oh.: My brain caught up with my words. We had committed the same sin against each other.

:We’re both guilty of it.: Llyr gathered my hands between his. :Don’t shut me out any more. I’m your prophet, Eidothea.:

:Then move into the palace with me,: I urged. :There is a room for you down the hall.:

:I cannot do that. I am the grandchild of the last Esteemed. Mother is not ready to relinquish me to the palace. I’ll visit every couple of days.:

:I’ll tell the Esteemed to make room in my schedule. And the barrier? When will you lower that?:

:Jasper.:

I winced.

:When you stop reacting to his name. It hurts too much.:

I sighed. :Yes, yes, I would spare you that. Seeing you regularly is enough. It will give us time to rebuild what we’ve broken.: I straightened. :While I am here, you said there are other spells I need to learn…:

The summer solstice grew closer. I had no desire to participate in any of it but as part of the palace household, I didn’t have a choice. At least I could keep Eidothea company while she sat out all the dances.

Musing this, I stepped into the hallway. The Esteemed stood in the middle of the hallway between our chambers. :Esteemed.:

He paused. :Yes, Rhiannon?:

I cursed inwardly. I hadn’t meant to engage in conversation, only to acknowledge him. I came up with something. :Eidothea has gone to practice with Lady Angharad, but I think she will be disappointed again.:

His eyebrow arched. :Are you complaining?:

I tilted my head to one side, considering how to answer. He didn’t seem angered by my remark. :Would it make a difference? I thought you should know.: I shuffled to one side.

:There is something I would like to know.: The Esteemed examined me from head to toe, his expression stern. His long dark hair disappeared behind his shoulders.

I ached to be gone. I waited in an expectant, subservient pose, my hands clasped in front of me, my eyes downcast.

:Come with me.:

I followed him along the hallway and another until we reached the first salon. He let me in and closed the door behind us.

:You don’t seem happy here,: he remarked, strolling to stand behind an ornate chair. He blinked when I didn’t follow him.

I stayed by the door in order to make a quick escape. Eidothea had asked me the same question. Dare I give him the same answer?

:Well?: he prompted. He moved to stand in front of me. :It’s plain you dislike me. If you intend to come between Eidothea and I—:

His phrasing gave me chills. Would Eidothea suffer Gorawyn’s fate? I hadn’t known the young woman for long, but somebody should defend her. My fingers curled. I shot him a look. :You want to claim her as bride?:

He looked disconcerted. :I don’t. She needs a lot of preparation before she’s ready to assume the crown. I had years—:

:Historically, the Chosen Court’s monarch rarely had time for nobody knew who it would be—:

:I know that, and don’t tell her that either,: the Esteemed snarled. :You know as well as I that her knowledge of the way the caer and our people function is confined to a few fairy tales and folk songs. We’ve seen her vision. Should I let her falter?:

I bit my lip. :So it’s not a tactic to delay her coronation?:

He sighed, bringing his hand to his head, his elbow akimbo. :It’s a common misperception.:

Until that moment I hadn’t realised I shared the same concerns as the young prophet, albeit for very different reasons. :It was a concern but it’s not the reason I dislike you.:

His brow arched at my boldness in admitting distaste for him, a figure of authority. Others would never have dared. :Why then?: He shook his head, waving me off. :Don’t answer that. I pride myself on being a popular ruler, but I know I’m not everyone’s favourite.:

:Gorawyn.: I whispered her name. He recoiled as if stunned, staggering back a few steps. I moved closer. Ice cold hatred and fear ran through my veins. :Everywhere I am reminded of her, of her death, and how you covered it up.:

He rubbed his temple. :Damn you, Rhiannon. I know you were friends—but I was in no fit state to cover anything up. My sister had to step in. She took care of…: His words trailed off, submerging into memories of that time.

I folded my arms. :You asked your sister to cover it up.:

:No!: The Esteemed’s arms stiffened at his sides. The water around him vibrated with his effort to remain calm. :No,: he said in a gentler tone. :Gorawyn was beloved by all. Who would harm her?:

:She wasn’t happy.: I have to admit I enjoyed inflicting pain upon the Esteemed.

He collapsed into a chair, staring up at me wide-eyed. :Not happy? Our life together was nearly perfect. She always had my love and support and she knew it. How was she unhappy?:

He could tell whether or not I spoke truth. I needed to tread carefully. Make my point without giving him anything to use against me. :She wouldn’t say.: Too, as bard, I felt obliged to speak the truth. :I wish I had asked her.: I ducked my head so he wouldn’t see my own misery at failing her. :But I do know she would never have swum the ocean on her own. Oh, she used to just before she met you. She stopped going out by herself, even in the company of others.:

:I hadn’t realised she had. I know why she stopped.: The Esteemed rubbed his chin, falling silent.

He seemed disinclined to share further. I wanted to push him, make him declare his guilt, but he seemed truly at a loss, his gaze far away.

:I never doubted the conclusion,: he murmured. :I who knew better never doubted it. She is gone. Why does it matter how?: His thought shattered on his last words.

I barely comprehended them. Why did it matter? I gasped, struggling to contain my anger. My gaze narrowed. :Do you even doubt it now? Did you not ever hear the rumours?:

His mouth twisted. :Sometimes being in an elevated position means you don’t hear everything. Things can be kept from you. What rumours?:

:That you lost control during a dragon dance with her. That you covered it up by saying it was sharks that killed her.:

The Esteemed looked up at that. :No, absolutely not.: His pained vehemence convinced me. :Although, my sister did conclude it was sharks.:

:It’s obvious she never left the palace of her own accord. Someone, or something, lured her out. Or perhaps someone kidnapped her.:

:No.: The Esteemed’s head shook in negation. :Your bardic imagination is working too hard. Nobody can leave the palace without someone knowing about it.:

:Exactly.: I took a deep breath. I knew exactly what I needed to ask next.

The Esteemed thought them first. :We should find out what really happened.:

:We?:

He shrugged. :I can’t be seen looking into this. If anyone comes after me, Eidothea may not make it to coronation.:

I stilled. :What do you mean?:

:Many in my family aren’t ready for this change in power. Without my protection, she will be too vulnerable. You must lead this investigation. Carefully, for I don’t wish to put you in danger either. I will help where I can.:

I thought about that. :I could get away with it by asking for memories of Gorawyn, a natural act by an old friend.:

He nodded. He smiled, his shoulders relaxing. :Will you do it?:

It meant justice for Gorawyn. I agreed.

The darkness hummed. Every soul who lived in Caer Morgana, and even a few from the shores, gathered at the stone circle on the outskirts of the city. Eager excitement rose around and ahead of us.

The megalithic stone circle had its own bubble. A wide tunnel connected it with the rest of the caer. The large stones lined the perimeter of a small plateau on a hilltop. In between each of the giant stones, rocks had been gathered to build staggered stands, with short steep stairs built against each rise.

Along the tunnel, lanterns lit our way, winding through the verdant rock and coral. In the night sea, the procession looked like an ascending river of light. Light burst out from the plateau, casting the massive slabs into deep shadow.

I walked at Llyr’s side, but the gap between us meant he was just beyond my reach. His stony expression dissuaded me from any thought of reaching out to him. We echoed Emrys and Angharad ahead of us, who walked with a good two handspans between them.

We reached the stone circle. In the centre, a large flat stone formed the altar top. Not completely smooth, tiny lines curved across the top of the altar, each a little lower than the ones closer to the centre.

Silence fell as we entered, and a stillness settled over those in the stands. Lanterns studded the crowd. More lanterns slung across each of the ancient megaliths.

We approached the altar. Emrys and Llyr stepped to one side.

Llyr snatched my hand. :Be careful,: he thought at me.

He did not need to warm me. Rhiannon and I had gone over every bit of the ritual when it became clear Lady Angharad would not give instructions nor rehearse with me.

I lifted the heavy stone jug and handed it to Lady Angharad, supporting the bottom as she poured a libation onto the stone altar. The liquid, just like at Cyntefin a month ago, sank onto the grey slab and splashed up and out in a glorious constellation of glimmering bubbles.

An awed cry went up. :Thanks and praises!: we all cried out. :The Lady gifts us!: called others.

Bubbles large and small hung over our heads, out of reach for one breathtaking, beautiful moment. Faces lifted, mouths opened, tongues extended, eager for the Lady’s gift.

My heart pounded. I could not tell if the crowd’s thrilled raptures stirred me or if I too felt the Lady’s presence. I gazed up at the bubble floating over my head in wonder. It coruscated rainbows as it slowly sank toward me.

:Be with us, O Lady!: Lady Angharad held up her arms, hands hovering on either side of her golden bubble. :Be with us as the sun turns and the days grow shorter. Be with us in the darkness, O Lady!:

:Thanks and praises!: the crowd sighed. I sighed along with them.

The honeyed bubble descended. Not a tiny droplet to taste on the tongue, but a heady mouthful. I’d tasted it at Cyntefin and in the grotto. I hoped this time it would not leave a bittersweet punch.

I reeled with the honeyed headiness of it and felt uplifted in an unreasonable joy, almost weightless.

I blinked. I had left the ground, levitating before the altar. With a dazed expression, Emrys rose to join me. He extended his hand and I gripped it, already in danger of losing myself to this inebriated pleasure.

Musicians struck up a stately tune. Arms extended, I circled around Emrys. His body turned with mine, watching my every move. We pivoted, rotating in the opposite direction, making a stately promenade around the stone circle above the heads of the gathered crowd. They swayed as we passed like seaweed disturbed and caressed by a wave.

As we had practiced, Llyr clasped my outstretched hand. Beyond, Lady Angharad rose to join Emrys. Another turn and the council members, led by Ceridwy, rose and lengthened the lines. I released Emrys and beckoned to another to join me. Ondine rose in response, Cychwr following close behind.

More joined us and we formed two concentric circle, spiralling around the altar. More circles forms until the plateau pulsed with dancing dreigiau môr.

The bass drum thumped. The music quickened. We met its call and danced and skipped faster. The circles disintegrated, some descending to rest, while others formed smaller circles.

Ondine let go of my hand. I watched Cychwr twirl her away through the assembly. Llyr released his grasp, descending to the ground. Spinning slowly, arms outstretched, I tracked his downward progress.

Another caught my hand.

Emrys. He drew me in, his hands at my waist, my hands clasped behind his neck. We twirled, using each other as a fulcrum. Emrys released my waist, hands sliding along my arms until we clasped hands.

We spun, faster and faster, all blurring into the golden light except for Emrys’ face. We had not practiced the dance this way but we answered the music’s thrilling call.

He drew me near again, our bodies pressing together. :Something in the mead,: he muttered.

I agreed. Alcohol did not cause this headiness or the incredible sensitivity where our bodies slid against each other. Llyr’s mischievous face leapt into my memory. :The robes are our bodies, our skin. We’re basically naked.:

My face burned from the memory. I could not dance with Emrys like this, in this aroused state.

I pushed him away, the force sending me across the milling sea. Dreigiau môr danced above and below us.

My back bumped into somebody. His arms clasped around my waist, spinning us away, out of Emrys’ sight.

At last, his grip loosened enough for me to turn and face him, still within the circle of his arms.

I froze, my gills flattening against my neck.

Ladon Tregallas.

:I don’t think I need to seduce you this time,: he purred. :The Goddess has blessed us indeed.: His hand slid up from my waist, running along my ribs.

I whimpered and pushed him away. He kept a firm grip. :What a gift it would be to bear the Queen’s child.: His glazed over eyes might have been unfocused but his hands moved with purpose.

:No,: I gritted out and shoved him harder, breaking free.

I soared away, twisting to find Llyr or Emrys. Any familiar face that I could trust.

With a masterful flick of his feet, Emrys shot up from the ground and caught me. His hands rested lightly at my waist. Dazed, I mirrored his action.

:It turns out,: I gasped, feeling desire rise again, :that there are worse choices.:

Emrys grunted, wincing. :I think we need to leave.:

I hesitated. Back to the palace with him, or did he suggest we leave the caer and join those already slipping away to perform the dragon mating dances?

:Back to the palace,: Emrys clarified. :To our separate beds.:

I nodded and we descended to the ground. Lady Angharad lay before the altar, robes askew, squirming with delight. She chuckled. :Do you like my present, brother?: She gestured to the large jug lying on its side.

Emrys growled at her. Unlike our way of mentally communicating, it created an audible ripple through the water. Behind him, a woman swooned. I understood her. My resistance melted in the face of his protective anger. I swayed toward him.

:Let us go,: he said to me.

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