Chapter Twenty-Four #2
She waited to see if he responded to that, but he didn’t, so she continued, “And how much did your wife have to do with that? Had she been whispering in her brother’s ear to make sure the kingdom was yours?
That her son would inherit? And what will he become?
A king of the Britons, Picts and Dal Riatans?
Three kingdoms. Do you think you will not need allies then, is that it?
But for that to happen and Eochaid to unite the kingdoms, you know that means you too must be dead. Is that what the queen is planning?”
“No.” But she saw the way her brother’s expression changed. Just a flicker of doubt.
“Are you sure, brother? Are you really sure?”
Rhun turned on his heel and marched away from her, then whirled around. “I cannot believe you lied to me. In front of a hall full of the nobility, you stood there and lied to me.”
Gemma smoothed out her dress, feeling a sudden sadness that she wore no apron anymore.
Her veil pinched around her face, and she missed her headscarf and loose hair.
“I didn’t lie. Ulf arrived at the shieling yesterday morning.
The snow had stopped, and the thaw had begun.
He and a group of other warriors had been sent out in search of me and Caelin.
They found us then. None of that is a lie. ”
But Rhun shook his head. “You made it seem like you had been there alone. And yet you were not.”
Gemma walked towards him slowly. If she couldn’t appease Rhun, then she would have far fewer options than she had assumed.
But for him to blame her for the situation was ridiculous.
“I should never have been at Alt Clut. I only ended up there because you forced me and Caelin to leave and go to Car Luel. You sent me away. Us away. Why? You set these events in motion, Rhun. You.”
“To avoid this. There were rumours… Marcant… I needed to stop them using Caelin to challenge me.”
“And yet you have pardoned him. Allowed him back into your court.”
They turned as footsteps approached from the direction of the guest chambers.
They glared at Cenydd as he entered the hall.
Cenydd stopped and stared at Rhun, then glanced at Gemma before bowing to them.
His advisor, Anwyl, entered a few paces behind him and remained in the doorway. Both were dressed for riding.
“What are you about, Lord Cenydd? It is late.”
“King Rhun, I apologise for my intrusion. We heard voices and came to ensure all was well.”
“Why are you here?” Rhun demanded.
Cenydd glanced at Anwyl, who nodded. “I was called back to Car Cadell. We were in the stables. When those men arrived.” Cenydd glanced again at Gemma and took a breath. “I have heard the rumours and have a proposal.”
“I cannot see what sort of proposal will do anything to change what my sister has done.”
“No, but if I marry Princess Maithgemm, take her away from Perthawc, you will never have to see her again. You can say that this is her punishment, banished to the lands on the edges of your kingdom.”
Rhun laughed, and Gemma stared at Cenydd. Surely he wasn’t serious? If he had thought marriage to her was a possibility then he would never have sent her on to Kirkjaster in the first place.
“Well, sister, it seems a rescuer has appeared to save you from your disgrace,” Rhun said, walking around behind her, leaving her to stare at Cenydd. “Very well, but you must remove her from Perthawc today. Now.”
For a moment, it looked like Cenydd did not know how to react, then he bowed.
“Thank you, King Rhun. I assure you I will care for her and her son.” Cenydd lifted his hand towards her, but as she stared at it, her stomach knotted.
It was one thing to walk away from Arne, but quite another to marry someone else and know there was no possibility of a future with the Norseman.
Ever. Cenydd was far from a poor choice for a husband, but her heart would never lie with him.
Then the suspicion she had felt yesterday in the great hall returned. Cenydd was up to something. His actions were far from selfless, no matter how he tried to make it seem that way.
Rhun was silent for a moment. Long enough that Gemma was worried, but Cenydd seemed to be unfazed by Rhun’s behaviour. He lowered his hand and turned his attention to Rhun.
“I will ensure Caelin is raised so he may one day assume his birthright.”
Rhun grunted, then his eyes narrowed. “And just what do you see Caelin’s future status as being, Cenydd? King?”
Gemma gasped, but Cenydd feigned confusion.
“Certainly not. Prince Eochaid will be our next king. Marcant has failed to place Caelin on the throne before. And he is no ally of mine. Can you think of a safer pair of hands to place the care of Lord Caelin into than mine? Marcant murdered my uncle. The only thing I seek from him is revenge.”
“And I have forbidden it.”
Cenydd sighed, but nodded. “And I will abide by your command. I can keep your sister and nephew safe at Car Cadell. They will pose no threat to you from other ambitious nobles if they are with me.”
Rhun looked at her, his lip curling. “My sister is dead to me.” He stepped past Gemma, then stopped when he drew level with Cenydd.
“I will not blame you if you choose to delay your wedding to ensure it’s not a Norse bastard who inherits your lands.
But even the Norse scum didn’t want her.
He was happy to take the bag of gold in return for her.
He seems to have got a fine bargain—getting paid to bed a princess. ”
Gemma choked back a sob.
“This is of no concern to me. I will marry her and raise her son at Car Cadell. The Ir Ysgyn lands are easily reached by boat from Lyffnach.”
Rhun stared at him for a long moment, then smiled, but the smile was cruel and Gemma held her breath, waiting for whatever was coming next. “No. The boy will remain here. You will not have him. He will return to his own lands with Lord Fergus, as is right and proper.”
“No!” Gemma thrust her arms down at her sides, fists clenched. How dare he? “You will not keep my son.”
“Caelin’s first duty is to be his father’s son. Lord Fergus has proved to be a loyal steward on his behalf. And it is better that your son is not exposed to your treasonous behaviour, consorting with our enemies.”
“Our allies!” she yelled, taking a step towards Rhun.
Cenydd pulled her back and she stumbled against him, catching sight of Anwyl backing down the passageway towards the room she had stayed in last night, and she could only pray he was going to help her.
“They are our allies, King Rhun,” Cenydd began, but the king cut him off with a slice of his hand through the air.
“They are foreigners, and this alliance will lose me this kingdom,” Rhun said. “It is time to move forward. Find strong allies among the Britons, rebuild our power and that of those who belong on this island.”
Cenydd’s eyes narrowed as he regarded Rhun. “Those who belong on this island? And who is that? Are you planning an alliance with—”
“It is none of your concern, but the Norsemen must go. And if she will not go with them, then you are welcome to her.” He shifted his attention to Gemma. “Leave with Cenydd or you will be imprisoned.”
“I will not leave without my son,” Gemma cried out, but Rhun was walking away as if the discussion was over and there was no further need for him to acknowledge either her or Cenydd.
Cenydd held onto her. She struggled but wasn’t able to break free. “Don’t.”
She twisted her head to glare at him. “But I’m his sister. He wouldn’t—”
“He said you were no longer his sister, Gemma. Please, I don’t want to see you die.”
“Because you are so in love with me?” She looked into his eyes.
The young man she had known was gone. In his face was a determination she had never seen before and yet, somehow, she still trusted him.
More than anyone else here at least and it seemed like she had very few options available to her at any rate.
“No, I don’t love you. But I do need heirs. And you are not the worst choice.”
Was that all it was? Or had ruthless ambition corrupted Cenydd as well? “Because you think your own sons might then stand a chance of being king one day?” she snapped.
Cenydd didn’t answer, but he did let go of her. “We are leaving.”
“I’m not leaving without my son.”
“Is he worth your own life?” Cenydd asked.
She blinked. How could he ask her such a thing? But then, he had no wife, no child of his own, so he was hardly to blame for not understanding. “Yes,” she whispered, pleading with her eyes for him to understand.
“Please, just trust me. I had you rescued from Alt Clut. I could have forced you to stay with me, to marry me then if that was all I wanted. But I didn’t, and now you have no choice but to trust me, and we must leave. The rest we can fix later.”
“But Caelin—”
“Pray that Anwyl has him.” Cenydd’s lips were set in a grim line. “Otherwise we will both have lost—” Cenydd swallowed.
She nodded and allowed herself to be hurried through the royal residence and out to the stables.
Two of Cenydd’s guards were waiting with horses already saddled and bridled.
“Ready?” Cenydd asked one of them.
“Yes, my lord.”
“Anwyl?”
“Already gone,” the guard said, and Gemma could see the relief on Cenydd’s face but dread pooled in her stomach.
If Anwyl had left alone then she wouldn’t leave.
She’d go back for Caelin, no matter what Cenydd said.
No matter the risk to herself. There was no way she would leave him at the mercy of either her brother or Marcant.
“Alone?” she asked.
“No,” the guard frowned at Gemma. “With the boy.”
Gemma staggered, grasped onto the stable wall for balance. Caelin was out of Perthawc. Whether he was safe or not was another matter, but away from the king was enough for now.
“Follow us through the gates, and then stay behind us. Try to ambush anyone who follows us. Although if Rhun sends an army then don’t engage. Ride for Dol Mawr,” Cenydd ordered and the guards nodded in agreement.
Behind them, she heard shouting inside the residence. Had Rhun discovered Caelin was gone already?
“He will have sent someone to check on Caelin,” Cenydd said as he boosted her onto the back of one of the horses, and she gripped the reins tightly. “We must go now.”
She settled the fabric of her dress to allow her to ride and one of the guards handed her a large, dark cape to wear over it.
It smelled of the stables but seemed clean otherwise.
Cenydd mounted, and as soon as he was in the saddle, they headed out of the stables towards the gates, the two guards riding behind them.
Her heart pounded as they rode out of Perthawc into the darkness.
Behind them, the gates thudded shut and she prayed Anwyl was ahead of them with her son.
If he wasn’t… She swallowed, and blinked back tears as they galloped away from Perthawc.
Was she right to trust Cenydd? Despite his surprise proposal and her feeling he may not be quite the ally the Norsemen believed him to be, she was sure of one thing—he was their best hope of escaping her brother alive.
They rode fast, no sound reaching Gemma’s ears over the thudding of the horses’ hooves and of her own worried heart.
She didn’t risk looking behind them, but the guards had fallen back as ordered and she prayed that if they had been followed the guards would deal with it.
Ahead of her Cenydd slowed and although her first instinct was to press on, Cenydd’s plans hadn’t failed her so far so she slowed and followed him to where he halted near the edge of some woods.
The air was tainted with the acrid smell of burning, but it wasn’t fresh.
They had reached the site of the village of Isallawr, burned by Marcant’s mercenaries last winter.
A horseman waited for them under cover of the trees, but as they approached she recognised Anwyl, and her heart leapt when she saw Caelin seated in front of him, clutching the basket with the cubs in it.
“Mama!”
“Caelin! I am so happy to see you!” She would have dismounted and gone to him but Cenydd stopped her.
“Later. We must reach the safety of Dol Mawr first. The guards behind us will slow down anyone who follows us.”
“I left blankets bundled in the bed hoping they would not look too closely until morning, but it may not have fooled them and they might already be following,” Anwyl said. “Have you heard anyone behind you?”
“Not since we started riding. But Rhun knows that Caelin is gone,” said Cenydd. “They’re coming. Count on it. Let’s go.”
They moved back onto the road for speed.
Riding through the forest at night was as dangerous as risking Rhun’s soldiers catching up to them on the road.
No one slowed or spoke as the horses pounded along the hard-packed dirt.
Only when she saw the walls of Dol Mawr appear before them did Gemma allow tears of relief to fall.