Chapter 36 Non #2
“Thank you,” I said as my mouth dried up at the suggestion of Catrin.
In the uncomfortable silence, my mind churned with questions.
Why hadn't my grandmother mentioned any of my recent transgressions over the last few weeks?
Running headfirst to protect the West when I was ordered not to, kissing the Ail of the Western Coven in front of everyone and his dog.
All of them were a big middle finger to my grandmother and the establishment she served.
And yet, from the conversation we'd just had, it was clear Granny had no idea when or how I was sneaking off to visit the Western encampment.
That alone was surprising. But allowing me to attend the Calan Gaeaf celebration? That seemed…unexpectedly generous.
My grandmother didn't so much as flinch when the double doors behind her burst open, like she knew it was coming. Aeron sauntered in, tailed by Seren. Granny stood, offering her seat at the head of the table to Aeron. Seren, like the good little pet she was, stood to attention flanking her masters.
“It’s so kind of you to invite me to breakfast, Ledr Bronwen,” Aeron mused as he shook out a napkin, placing it in his lap.
Granny didn't acknowledge his thanks as she sipped from her teacup.
“I didn't know we were expecting company,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.
Aeron slid his gaze to me. “Your grandmother had initially suggested we keep this meeting small. But that wouldn't be much fun, would it?”
The double doors Aeron had just entered through opened again, and in walked Ail Llew, Ledr Emna, and Ail Taran.
Aeron stood, gesturing them to sit. “Come, come. We're behind schedule.”
Ledr Emna pulled back her chair, the legs screeching across the stone floor. She winced, but I got the feeling it wasn't from the uncomfortable sound. “Apologies for our delay, Pen Arwr. We weren't expecting a meeting with the Cyngor Blaen to be called at such short notice.”
As Emna said those final words, my body jolted, and alarm bells went off in my head.
My judgement told me to run from this meeting immediately.
Why was I attending a meeting with the Cyngor Blaen?
Maybe they'd forgotten I was still here?
As my eyes landed on Granny, her expression answered my question.
Stay exactly where you are; running will only make things worse, her voice echoed in my mind.
The servants’ door I'd come through opened next, revealing two formidable figures in black habits.
Caerwyn strode through the door first, followed by Dylan, whose eyes immediately found mine. His usual self-assured composure didn't break, but I could tell from the way his shoulders tensed that he was just as surprised to see me.
Once the entire Cyngor was seated around the table, with the addition of myself and Seren, Aeron cleared his throat.
“I appreciate you all gathering at such short notice. There’s not been many occasions during my time as Pen Arwr where I've needed to call an emergency meeting like this, but events occurring as of late need to be addressed.” My heart hammered so loudly that I struggled to hear Aeron speak at the other end of the dining room.
I could feel Dylan's gaze burning into the side of my face, but I didn't dare look at him. One glance and the very little control I had on my emotions would be gone in an instant. I wasn't about to break down crying during a meeting with the Cyngor Blaen.
From the head of the table, Aeron smiled at me with too many yellow teeth. “It's funny, Non, how you've so freely expressed your fondness for the West in public. But here among friends, you won't so much as look at them?”
When I didn't answer, Aeron went on, his voice curter this time. “You willingly disobeyed a direct command from your superior and quite literally sacrificed yourself, all for their safety. A simple hello wouldn't be so much to ask, would it?”
Granny cleared her throat but didn't speak. I kept my eyes pinned on Aeron, not daring to move them towards the two clad in black in my peripheral.
When I refused to answer for the second time, Aeron's demeanour switched. In an instant, his smarmy smile flattened, giving way to a look of disgust. He slammed his fist on the table. This was clearly a man who always got what he wanted. ”I said look at them!
Look at the faces of those you'd choose to protect rather than follow an order from your leader!”
Spittle flew from Aeron's mouth as the tendons in his neck strained.
I slowly slid my gaze to my left, but not to Dylan. I couldn't do it. If he saw the tears that welled in my eyes, I was certain he'd remove Aeron's tongue.
Caerwyn was almost as difficult to look at. I saw nothing but pity in his eyes as they searched mine.
With a single nod from Aeron, Seren pushed away from the wall they'd been stood against. She marched towards me, a psychotic smile on her face.
She seized my arms, pinning them to the chair.
“Taran,” Aeron said with warning.
The Ail of the South tensed before he lifted his palm. As an orb of gold light flitted through the air. Taran's warm brown eyes met mine briefly before he looked back to Emna.
When his power settled on the chair, vines sprouted from the arms. As the shoots touched my skin, I braced for pain. Instead, they coiled around my wrists and legs with an unexpected gentleness.
Then they tightened.
Gods, they were pinning me down.
I lurched forward, but I was too slow.
When Aeron stood again, manic glee painted on his ugly face, I understood exactly why I was here.
This wasn't a meeting; it was a fucking trial.
“I require some assistance with delivering your punishment today. It seems the Cyngor have grown too soft.”
“We've not voted on the outcome, Aeron. You can't just dish out punishment when the Cyngor haven’t voted on the matter.” Relief washed over me when Dylan spoke. Aeron had made a terrible decision, allowing the leaders of the West to attend this trial.
Aeron bristled. “I have the majority.”
Caerwyn clamped a hand on Dylan's forearm. “This isn't how things are done, Aeron. Let the council vote, then we can proceed.”
“Fine, cast your votes. You're only prolonging the inevitable.” Aeron lowered to his seat, lacing his fingers over his belly as he leaned back.
A silent conversation seemed to happen between Dylan and Caerwyn for a moment, then Caerwyn spoke.
“The West does not condone the punishment of Non Meredith, Wielder of the Northern Coven.”
When he finished, he looked at Emna.
“The South votes that the Wielder in question should face punishment as the Pen Arwr sees fit.” Once her vote was cast, she stood in one fluid motion and headed for the doors, Taran right behind her.
Aeron didn't stop them as the doors swung open; he was too busy gloating as he smirked at the West.
“Your sister would be so fucking disappointed in you,” Dylan whispered.
It was so quiet I was certain only Caerwyn and I had heard it. But Emna froze, Taran almost colliding with her back. Over her shoulder, she looked at Dylan, her eyes wide. Her fists at her sides trembled.
Her lip pulled back as she snarled. But before she could fire back at Dylan, Taran wrapped his broad arm around her shoulders and dragged her out of the room.
“As we all know,” Aeron cut across, “my wife, Ail of the Central Coven, is still tragically suffering from a long-term illness. Her vote falls to me by proxy. The Central Coven votes that Non Meredith should be punished.”
Predictable prick.
Ail Llew spoke for the North, his voice giving nothing away.
Aeron preened when he announced the outcome. “Six votes in favour of an appropriate punishment. Looks like I have the majority after all.”
When Dylan sprang from his chair, my heart leapt with relief. How we would fight our way out of this room when we were so clearly outnumbered, I had no idea, but we would sure as hell try.
But his face contorted, his body frozen in place as he reached his hand out to summon Caledfwlch. When a thin trail of blood dripped from his nose, I knew there was something very wrong.
I instinctively looked to Caerwyn, and although he was still seated, he seemed to have been affected by the same power as Dylan had.
“Excellent work, gentlemen.” Aeron gestured for someone behind me to move forward.
Two men in purple habits came into view.
They moved to stand next to Aeron. I didn't recognise the one who held his arms out.
The gold glow at his fingertips tapered into threads wrapped around Caerwyn and Dylan, binding them to his will.
But the other man... It was that prick, Cadoc.
“As I mentioned, I have brought in assistance in the form of Cadoc and Rhodri. As vassals of Arianrhod, their power is quite remarkable, don't you think?”
I had no idea if his question was aimed at me, but I wasn't fucking answering it all the same.
As Cadoc strode towards me with determination, all that pent-up anger he seemed to be harbouring was brimming to be released. He spread his arms, and wisps of gold and silver smoke cascaded from his palms to the floor.
The last thing I heard before Cadoc's power took over was Aeron's voice. “Let's see how you fare reliving your Cychwyniad. Will it break you now as it did then?”