Chapter 19 #2
Would that be better than nothing, or would it just mean suffering this heartbreak again and again every time he left? But she could not think of that now, not when he was here and in her arms, after she had given up all hope. “How long can you stay?”
“Perhaps a week. My father made it clear he will not tolerate another extended absence, but I can delay that long.”
Just long enough to rip the heart out of her again. If she had an ounce of sense, she would send him away right now, before she could fall even further in love. But she had never had any sense, nor could she ever resist him.
She turned her face up again to meet his lips.
Frederica picked a leaf out of Roderick’s hair.
“There. No one will be able to tell what you have been up to.” She glanced down at her grass-stained skirt.
“Whereas I will have to sneak up to my room and change before anyone sees me.” It had been worth it, though.
She could not have waited until nightfall to be in his arms, and if the forest floor was less comfortable than a bed, so be it.
“You could not look lovelier in my eyes,” he said with a catch in his voice.
“I suppose I should announce my presence to Elizabeth and Darcy, with apologies for my sudden appearance.
Though I would be happier avoiding all the social demands and sleeping on the ground in Rowan's dovecote at the Dower House.” His voice dropped. “I am only here for you.”
A memory assailed her, of her own night in the dovecote, waiting to hear if Roderick would live or die.
Then it struck her - Roderick must have no idea of the current inhabitants of the Dower House.
“You might want to rethink that. We have some... oh, goodness, there is no easy way to tell you this. Lady Anne Darcy is now living in the Dower House, along with her guests, the king and queen. Yes, that king, though he is no longer mad, thanks to Coquelicot. He never comes to the main house, thankfully.”
He stiffened. “You must be joking. No, I can see you are not. Rowan told me nothing of this!”
“All the dragons were sworn to secrecy about it,” she said. “For his safety, you know. Especially since Darcy refuses to allow any royal guards onto Pemberley land. He says the wards are enough.”
“Still...” He shook his head. “I should not stay here. If he caught a whiff of who I am, even if all he discovers is that I am a mage, it could risk everything.” He closed his eyes, then said urgently.
“I want to be with you, more than I can tell you.
Could you come to the Companion's House at the Nest?”
“For a day, perhaps, but the Dark Peak Eldest insists that I must stay here. Otherwise I would already be there.” She hesitated. “It has not been easy, pretending that nothing is wrong. Elizabeth has guessed, I think, though she respects it when I say I do not wish to discuss it.”
“And Darcy already knows, if not the details, at least that there is something between us.” He pulled her against him, holding her tightly as if he wished to make her part of himself.
“Darcy knows?” That was an unpleasant surprise.
“He warned me, when I was here before, to be less obvious about it. He did not want your father to discover our connection.”
Frederica made a rude noise. “It is none of my father's business.”
“True, but I imagine your life will be easier if he remains ignorant of it.”
Which served as a reminder of a tender subject. “You do not wish to tell your father, either.”
He winced. “He knows. The choice was not mine, in the end. The land told him there was something not-right about me, that I was not fully present there. He pressed until I admitted it. He took it about as well as I expected, which is to say, with great dismay. There was a lot of noise about the treacherous Saeson trying to destroy Gwynedd through me.”
“The Saeson?” The Welsh word felt strange in her mouth.
His lips twisted. “The English. It is not a compliment.”
“What happened then? And do not tell me it is best to leave it, for whatever he said, I have imagined much worse.”
“I tried to tell him that you were like Granny, both in spirit and as a Truth-casting dragon companion. He said it took fifty years before the people forgave her simply for being born English, and she was not in the line of succession. But mostly he told me we could not take the risk of having you draw attention to us.” He sighed deeply.
“Which I could not argue with, because it is true.”
She wanted to disagree with him, oh, so much!
But he was right. If he did not have the King's Bond to his land, she would beg him to risk it.
But the King's Bond was a death sentence if the government learned of it.
They could not afford having a Welshman with that much magical power within the country.
She loved him too much to expose him to that danger.
But oh! It was so unfair! The King's Bond should be a miraculous, wonderful thing. Instead it stood in their way.
She swallowed hard. “Was he at least pleased by your bond to Rowan?”
“Not displeased, at least, even though Rowan is an English dragon in his mind. Which is ridiculous, since dragons have no nationalities. But we did not announce it to the people yet. Time enough for that when Rowan goes back with me.”
She did not want to think about him leaving, not until she had to.
“Would you agree to let me talk to Elizabeth and Darcy about you being here? They would understand why you want to avoid Lady Anne, and I think they would be willing to help you stay out of her way. She only comes to the house now and then to see the baby, and Their Majesties have never ventured beyond the gardens of the Dower House.”
He frowned. “Then why are they there?”
“The king insists on staying near Coquelicot.” At his baffled look, she exclaimed, “Of course! You know nothing about the bindings!” Quickly she explained what they had learned about Lady Catherine's long-ago activities.
“No wonder they call her the Traitor Companion,” Roderick said in a low voice. “I would not wish that fate even upon the king of England, whose name I would otherwise curse.”
“Look who I found, skulking outside,” Frederica announced cheerfully. “Do you mind if he stays here for a few days?”
Elizabeth rose to greet the Welshman who had entered beside Frederica. “I would be delighted! Roderick, how lovely to see you again. I had thought it might be years, if ever.” She had missed his company, too, especially since Frederica had been in poor spirits since his departure.
And now she seemed back to her former self. Of course. Poor Frederica!
“I find it astonishing myself, that I actually came to England yet another time,” he teased.
“I thought this would be a very quick trip, merely collecting Rowan at the Nest before returning home, but apparently the Eldest is not quite ready to send him off yet. So I have the delightful opportunity to visit my friends, and to deliver this in person.” He held out a paper-wrapped parcel.
“How kind of you.” She took the package - a book, by its weight - and untied the string. Was it from Roderick, the Welsh Nest, or one of her relatives in Wales? Perhaps the contents would tell her.
Folding back the paper revealed a simple leather-bound book.
There was no title embossed on the spine, which was left blank like a commonplace book.
Indeed, it proved to be handwritten. “The Journal of Iorweth, called the Bold,” she read aloud.
Iorweth the Bold, companion to Taliesen the Seer, who had been grandsire to her own Cerridwen.
Iorweth had opened the first - and last - Gates.
Excitement coursed through her veins. “Where did you find this?”
“The original, in medieval Welsh, is in the archives at the Gwynedd Nest. They let me take it to make a translation for you.”
“You did this? Thank you so much!” She pressed the book to her chest with delight. “I cannot wait to see what treasures it holds.” This could hold the answers about her mysterious Forbidden Talent – and how to open Gates!
“It is interesting reading,” he said. “He goes off on tangents, especially regarding old stories, but I think you will find much of it useful.”
“I cannot think of anything that would make me happier. I have felt so lost, with no one to speak to...” She stopped. No one could know she was working on Gate-opening. “...about what it is like to be companion to a Seer.”
“There are some interesting parallels. His other mage skills, like yours, were not strong, and he theorized that his Talent focused on the foundations rather than the actual matter of the world. He mentions other ways to work with the foundations. Unfortunately, he had his last journal with him when he died, so there is nothing about that final Gate, the one that led to disaster.”
“That is a pity, but still, this is a treasure. I am very grateful.”
He hesitated. “I also asked the older dragons about the prophesied one.
They, like the Dark Peak Eldest, knew only of the prophecy about Ysmeina the Fair, the one which never came true.
But they told me one new detail - that Ysmeina lived near the Dark Peak Nest, and she met with the dragons there more than once.
And that the Dark Peak dragons know where Ysmeina's Cuff lies.”
“Ysmeina's Cuff?” she asked.
“Ah, you do not know the tale of Ysmeina the Fair? Her cuff is a Great Artifact, made by the Wicked King with his own hands out of deepest love, or at least deepest obsession. She was afraid of him, since his power was so much greater than her own, so he made her a tool to address that. She could use it to bind any fae, even the Wicked King himself. Or so the story goes. She accepted the gift, but eventually rejected him.”
Elizabeth stroked the book cover, anxious to start it, but something in his words niggled at her. “Could Ysmeina's Cuff bind a dragon?”
“It is thought so, which is why the Dark Peak Nest sent many people to hunt for it. Apparently Ysmeina left it well-hidden, though, for none have succeeded.”
Nearby, and never found. Cerridwen had been talking of wanting to go on an adventure with her, like they had back in Hertfordshire, and what could be better than a quest for a missing Artifact that could be a weapon against Napoleon and the Wicked King?
They would never find it, of course, if no one else had managed it in all these centuries, but the hunt itself would raise her poor dragon’s spirits.
She smiled to herself. “Where can I find out more about Ysmeina and her Cuff?”
“You could ask at the Nest. The older dragons should know,” Roderick said. “Iorweth mentions Ysmeina in his writings, too. She had died only a century or so before he wrote, and he was still waiting for the prophecy to come true.”
Frederica asked eagerly, “What was the prophecy, though?”
“We do not know exactly, but it is said the blood of his love would cause the Wicked King's death. When she died, some assumed it meant her children, yet the Wicked King still lives. Or perhaps it was meant metaphorically, that it was the death of his heart and capacity for love. In any case, nothing happened.”
Which was a terrible pity, as far as Elizabeth was concerned. Having enemies on two fronts was not pleasant. But the book had made her forget her manners. “Will you not sit down? I will send for some refreshments and ask for your room to be prepared.”
“Already done,” Frederica said with a grin. “That is what comes of leaving me in charge here all that time.”