27: Noli Tangere

Chapter 27 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.

Maeve arrived at the trial in the nick of time, proving Angharad and the new prophet have been telling lies. They’re arrested. Llyr’s and Emrys’ recovery becomes paramount.

After a day of politicking and reassuring, exhaustion left me unable to string together a coherent thought. I fell onto my bed, not even bothering with the coverlet. Lady Angharad had wooed members of the Council to join her and even with her imprisonment, the Council members had to be convinced to cut ties with her.

:Eidothea?: Emrys’ thought murmured.

:Mmm?: I asked sleepily.

:How was your day?:

I groaned. :You sound bored. Do you really want to know?: I rolled onto my belly, propping up my head with a hand.

:Yes. I need another day of rest before I can help you.: Emrys sounded put out.

:I wish I could swap with you.: My eyelids drooped.

:I thought I would spend some time at the solar. The warmth will help my healing. Come with me?:

I remembered being at the spring house with Llyr. :I … I do not think that is a good idea. For you, yes.:

Emrys chuckled. :I’m canceling your schedule.:

:You’re supposed to be resting,: I retorted. I sighed. :I do still feel the icy dungeon floor.:

:I’m sorry about that,: he replied, contrite.

I had almost fallen asleep when Emrys sent another thought. :Maeve has requested an audience with you in the morning. But after that…:

Eidothea requested privacy for her meeting with Maeve and I obliged. I didn’t want to disturb Emrys’ rest so I planned to leave the palace and stroll in the Royal Quarter. Despite my best efforts, any storyline about Gorawyn’s death other than the publicly agreed upon one of a horrific accident refused to become clear.

:Mistress Bard!: I turned in direction of the call. A young woman approached. Her dark hair was cropped at shoulder-length approached, her robes a reddish-brown. They would translate into the most beautiful chestnut scales in her draig môr form.

:Yes?:

:You are Rhiannon of the Grealseeker line?: Her formal tone was at odds with the wisps of hair floating about her face. She tugged them into temporary submission.

:Yes.:

She bowed. :The Esteemed sent word to the Chief Botanist Manon that you were in need of a specialist in plants. She sent me to find you.:

I smiled. :Shall we find a place to sit? I have a memory to show you and I don’t want us to be distracted.:

We found a bench and sat together, looking for all the world like two young women having an innocent conversation.

:I am ready to receive your image.: Her grave thought was at odds with her smile. I arched an eyebrow. :I am assuming you don’t want anyone to know the intent of our conversation. Shall we pretend to be silly creatures?:

:I’m not sure anyone would believe it,: I muttered and forced a laugh, waving hands to cool my not-at-all heated face. I settled for a pacific smile and sent her my memory of the garden.

:Oh, lovely!: she gently exclaimed. :But those—: I presented my clear memory of the garden space. She fell silent. :Oh dear.:

I waited. :Have you seen enough?: I asked.

:Oh yes, quite.: She fiddled with her short hair. I noticed earth embedded under her fingernails. :I am not surprised it no longer exists.:

:Why?:

:Every plant you showed me is poisonous. One of them, even breathing in the scent could cause you harm.:

I recoiled. :What kind of harm? Are there any that would render you unconscious?:

:Or kill you. All of them. Where was this?:

:It no longer exists so that’s not important,: I replied, hoping the draig môr couldn’t hear my nervous anticipation. :There’s not a trace left of it. Of the plants, is there any one that is particularly unusual?:

:They’re all unusual. Plants are marvellously unique creations—:

:I understand,: I interrupted. :Do they leave visible side effects?:

She nodded. :Around the mouth, often at the extremities.:

I considered her. :If I showed you a memory of a mutilated body, could you bear it?:

She considered the question. :Nature does terrible things.: She paused. :Not too horrible, please.:

I shared the memory of Gorawyn’s clawed hands, avoiding the rest of her body.

:Oh. Oh dear. Give me a moment.: She closed her eyes. Like bards, botanists have prodigious memories in addition to their gift of coaxing plants to grow. :Yes, here it is.: She shared an image of a climbing plant with vibrant red flowers. :If it was in the garden, it wasn’t in flower then.:

I searched through the memory and shared images of the vines I saw, waiting for her request to move onto the next remembered image.

:Wait! Yes, it’s that one. You can see it’s just coming into bud.: Dark green leaves camouflaged it against the grey stone of the palace. Tiny red spots of colour indicated the new flower buds.

I placed a hand over my heart to steady its sudden pounding. :What are the symptoms? Is there any way to counteract it?:

:A healer would know what to do if they knew a person had been poisoned with it. Or even exposed. Its pollen travels in clouds. It requires repeated exposure and can result in nausea and dizziness. The stomach becomes bloated. These are all so minor the affected would hardly notice. It’s not until later that the concentration gets high enough — there’s difficulty breathing, fainting, until you feel like you’re suffocating — because, well, you are— and death results some hours after that. Her clawed hands are the signs it reached the last stage.:

I must have looked pale because she bent forward and rubbed my upper arms. :It’s gone, you said. Remember that.:

I nodded, swallowing, grateful for her kindness. :Yes, the garden is gone.: I managed a smile. :Thank you, this has been very helpful.:

She bowed her head. :Of course.: Her head tilted. :Do you need another minute?:

I nodded, shuddering. She began an animated lecture about the propagation of corals, quieting when she saw my composure restored.

I needed to tell Emrys. I thanked the botanist and headed back to the palace.

I stared out of the windows. Behind me, my receiving chamber was all in readiness for Maeve’s arrival with delicacies and warm beverages on the low table between the two stone couches. I looked out, unable to see the city but wishing for news about Llyr. I had felt so helpless in the dungeon—but at least I could see his progress myself.

:The prophet Maeve,: intoned the chief steward.

I swung in from my place at the windows, hastening to greet her and giving her another hug.

As we separated, she seemed bemused by that. Maeve fingered the Grealseeker ring that hung from my mother’s chain around her neck.

:Grandmother gave you the ring.:

Maeve bowed her head, letting the ring fall back against her breastbone. :It was mine to begin with. I made it.:

We sat next to each other on a stone couch. Despite her years, Maeve seemed ageless, a mature woman and not several centuries old. Only the grating rasp of her thoughts hinted at her years.

:You arrived just in time,: I told her, offering her a plate filled with delicious morsels.

Maeve’s lips quirked. :To help you eat these, or do you refer to recent events?:

:The latter. Well, both. Where are you staying?:

She picked at the proffered plate. :For now, with your grandmother. When Llyr wakes, I will join him there.:

I stared down at my hands, picking at a fingernail. It had been torn off in the attack and even though it had fully healed it ached. :You think he will wake?:

:His wounds are healed. Internally…: Maeve shrugged. :Ondine hasn’t given up hope. Have you?:

I shook my head, grabbing her forearm. :I want to hope, but I cannot sense him. Even when he blocked me, I could still sense his presence. Now there is nothing, nothing at all … like he is not there.:

Maeve delicately lifted my hand from her arm and returned it to my lap. :He never removed the block?:

:He was furious that I did not tell him sooner of my engagement with Jasper Tregallas and … and my falling in love with Jasper and not him.:

:Ah, yes.: Maeve’s fingertips tapped her knee. :I had the story from Elin and Llyr. :When he wakes, we’ll remove that bond. Until then, a broken prophet means broken bonds in a Chosen Court. That might be why you can’t feel him at all.:

I shook my head. Llyr couldn’t be broken. He would heal. :It’s more than that. We were starting to get along and then after the summer solstice, he stopped coming to the palace. Emrys invited him several times.:

:Emrys?: Maeve’s grey eyebrow raised. :You’re on first name terms with the Esteemed? But you’re removing him from the throne.:

:I haven’t yet—and won’t until after the coronation, and even then…: I leaned forward, eager to make my point. :Maeve, his work is excellent. I fumbled through yesterday without him. Does he need to abdicate?:

Maeve’s gaze sharpened. :What do you mean?:

:Was there never a caretaker ruler in place before? The Chosen Courts always formed without a break in succession?:

:Only Queen Myfanwy. A new Court formed on her death. The Council stepped in and filled the gap.:

:Maeve, I do not know how my assuming rule of Caer Morgana will solve the crisis that is to come. What if I need to leave like Queen Myfanwy?: I struggled to accept this new role of monarch. A life of adventuring seemed much easier.

Maeve did not seem concerned. :Has Llyr had any new visions?:

:None that he’s mentioned.:

:It would be the block. When he wakes, you and he need to reflect to each other. The Lady has been withholding from him, I’m sure of it. The conduit needs to be open between the two of you.:

:But the—: I broke off, remembering waking from the binding and the passion that had claimed us.

Maeve pursed her lips. :Yes, well, the shielding spell helps … and you’ll work out the rest of it.:

Reducing her size had not made Maeve any less mysterious. I sighed. :And Emrys?:

:My only advice is not to make an irrevocable decision. Wait for the visions to return to Llyr and be guided by them.:

I nodded at her wisdom. :I am consuming all of your time. You wanted to see me?:

:Yes, to exact a promise from you.: Maeve pinned me with her intense grey-eyed gaze.

:I am listening.: Inside, I quailed. Would this be another impossible task?

:If Llyr ever comes to you with a new vision, do not ever discount it. No detail, no matter how small, must be ignored. You must both see the vision for all its promises and dangers. To deviate from that … Well, that is how we lost the Greal.:

My shoulders relaxed. Not so impossible, so long as Llyr talked to me again. :I understand.: I patted her hand to reassure her. :I will listen to him. Or at least do my best.:

:That is all I ask. You do not have to love Llyr, but you have to listen to him when it comes to his visions. Has Rhiannon told you stories about the last Chosen Court?:

I shook my head. :Your Chosen Court?:

:Let me tell you. It will reveal much about the relationship between monarch and prophet…:

I will not bore you with this tale. I know Maeve has since spent time with Rhiannon, and she can tell it much better than I.

I sucked in my breath. :I will do my best to restore my relationship with Llyr, but I cannot do it all myself.:

Maeve nodded. :You need to know your own heart.: Her head canted to one side. :You came to see me in the deeps. Why?:

I bit my lip. I had forgotten my then-desperate urge for answers. :I found out that Jasper Tregallas lives and he bears a Chosen Mark. There was a new vision, different to the first one I saw with him. It—: I hesitated. :Could the mark mean something other than joining the Chosen Court? The vision showed us at odds.:

:Show me the vision.: Maybe it came from her years of being in draig môr form, but her gaze suggested I might be a tasty morsel.

Blushing, I shared the images of Jasper and I kissing in the bushes, the fatal embrace on the mist-clouded boat. The vision ended abruptly with the image of us on a hilltop, the green land rolling away from us. We had swords at each other’s throats.

:That is all?:

:I saw no more than that. I broke away. It was too disturbing. Jasper is the one I gave my heart to and he betrayed me. This vision is a warning, an ominous one. How can it be a confirmation he belongs in the Chosen Court?:

:There may have been more. As much as it scares you, you must see the vision through to the end. I’m surprised it stopped short. What did his mark look like?:

:Like a hook or a question mark.:

Maeve frowned and sighed, an airy rasp. :The Fisher King. You have heard of him?:

I nodded, chills running along my arms. Jasper had talked of the same thing in Bath.

:The Fisher King stands with the Monarch of the Chosen Court, just as I saw with Arthur Pendragon.:

:But the vision shows us set to kill each other!: I interrupted, protesting.

:I suspect you did not see all the vision, and not all visions will be literal, Eidothea,: Maeve replied, arching an eyebrow. :They are a means of identifying the Court and their role.:

:His will be a rebellious one. He’s already betrayed me once.:

:Best to be sure of that. When Llyr wakes and is strong enough, take him with you to confirm it. I assume nobody else could see this mark?:

I hesitated. :My maid could not see it.:

Maeve nodded. :That does seem conclusive.: She rose. :There are many who wish to renew their acquaintance with me and I have much work to do in undoing the damage Lady Angharad has caused to the caer’s harmony. You will excuse me?:

I nodded.

After the midday repast, I knocked on Emrys’ door. Rhiannon decided to join me, and I felt grateful for her company. She looked happier than she had in some days. He answered the door himself. :I’ve been waiting.: His gaze took in Rhiannon behind me.

I smiled at his glower. :You know better than anyone the demands upon a monarch. Maeve and I had much to talk about.:

Side by side, we walked through the palace, Rhiannon trailing close behind. We entered the lush private gardens. The solar lay in the opposite direction to the grotto. As we approached via a winding path, the water grew warm.

I frowned at Emrys. :Are we near the spring house or is there another?:

:Ah yes, the spring house.: He grinned. :I remember my sister telling me how she met Llyr there and a rude young woman. My guess is that was you?:

Ducking to hide my blush, I admitted it.

:She said you were embarrassed by the general state of undress. Are you sure this is a good idea? We can go to the grotto instead.:

I buried any lingering nervousness. With Rhiannon, I felt safe. :The warmth will help you heal and my bones have never quite shaken off the cold damp of the dungeon.: I skipped ahead a few steps, turning to face he and Rhiannon. :I did not know what to expect. It was my first time at such a place. Now I do.:

Emrys caught up to me. :You’re sure?:

:Yes.: I smiled at him.

We reached an opening in a tall coral wall. Inside, the gardens rioted, revelling in the heat, long trails of seaweed amidst bright flowering corals. We walked through a break in the coral wall. In front of us, natural rock rose up, the home of the hot spring. The coral reef extended in a wide circle around us, rising above our heads. Colourful fish flitted overhead. A few stone benches stood in the centre of the circle with a couple more closer to the rocks.

Emrys sat on one of the couches in the centre, drawing me to sit next to him. :I need to tell you something,: he said, :before I lose my nerve.:

Read about Queen Myfanwy and her Court in “Hiraeth”:

Start Here: Hiraeth

Maeve alludes to having made the Grealseeker Ring. See the origin story here:

TRR: The Prophet and The Cupbearer

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