King of the May Page 3

  “I told her, my way was better,” he said. “My daughter’s vision has always been too limited in her ambitions for me.”

  He looked over at Gwythyr’s composed face and tried to read it.

  He continued, “Think what could be accomplished with the rock-wights. Access into any keep, support for my armies abroad, even an improvement on the expense of road and bridge building. No one could stand against me. My son has no business denying them to me.” What a waste—I will make proper use of them, he thought.

  “I can understand your wrath at the refusal,” Gwythyr murmured. “How can I assist you, my lord king?”

  Smooth and dignified as always, Lludd thought. He’s clever, he is, clever enough to know he can only get this gift at my hand. Annwn will be a realm like any other, and he will hold it for me. Maybe Creiddylad can be induced to resume the old alliance, if he’ll have her back.

  “I’ve laid the foundations for this over the last month,” he told Gwythyr, leaning back in his comfortably cushioned broad chair and watching him carefully, motionless and effortlessly erect on his own hard wooden seat. “My agents in Gwyn’s domain have new orders.” And I have new agents in place, too. No need to share that with Gwythyr. He agreed with his adviser Derlwyn about the virtue of secrecy. He was impatient to hear about his latest experiment—had it worked?

  Still, it would do no harm to let Gwythyr know this was no small or secret endeavor he was undertaking. “As you can see, I now control his passage from the new world.”

  Gwythyr replied, “There is one other, as you know, my lord king.”

  Lludd waved that aside. “Yes, yes, the one they think no one knows about. But it’s small and private. The Travelers’ Way, now, that’s their main route for trade. They will pass through my blockade, or not, at my pleasure.”

  He drew himself upright. “Will you take Annwn from me, at my hands?” he asked Gwythyr.

  “Gladly, my lord king,” Gwythyr said. “But Gwyn’s hold is on more than the land. What about Cernunnos?”

  “What of him? I remember a time when there was no great hunt each year, no antlered master of beasts to impose his notions of justice on us all. His fastening on this human to serve as his huntsman and give him a way to manifest may impress the rabble, but I hold to Camulos and the other, older gods. Camulos has never disappointed me.”

  Gwythyr said, “I have often wondered how you came to take him as your sponsor.”

  Lludd smiled broadly and thumped the arm of his chair. “He promised me power, raw power, whenever I required it. All that I needed to take and hold my position.” And damn my father Beli for an interfering fool, with his notions of morality. That’s not for kings, he tried to tell him. When he finally received the long overdue weapon of his line from Taranis, he’d explain it to him more forcefully.

  “While you are exploring the military option and an economic blockade,” Gwythyr said, “it would be well to consider how to undermine Gwyn’s obligations for the great hunt. Better to cause Cernunnos to abandon his protégé than to have to fight with him directly.”

  He tented his fingers before his chin and spoke calmly and analytically. “To win the annual contest in a few months at Nos Galan Mai, as your father Beli Mawr has required, Gwyn must be present. If he wins, his huntsman must also be in attendance to retrieve new whelps for the pack from Cernunnos. If you can prevent any of this, the pack is weakened. Do it for six or eight years, and the pack will be worthless—no hounds able to do Cernunnos’s bidding for the great hunt. No more great hunt, no more Cernunnos as sponsor for Gwyn. A bloodless victory.”

  Lludd nodded. “Yes.” Derlwyn had been thinking along these lines, too—stop the huntsman, control him. What he’d actually said was ‘control the wife, control the huntsman.’ A nice, simple, traditional lever. “It takes too long for my taste, though. I could just press through the Travelers’ Way now, after all. Gwyn doesn’t have enough men to stop me.”

  “But he can close the way,” Gwythyr said, unmoved. “You can block the way but you can’t invade without way-token control. And what will your barons say, as you assault your son’s domains, both here and in the new world? They will fear receiving similar attention.”

  “Let that be my problem,” Lludd said.

  George watched as Gwyn’s impatient gesture silenced the side conversations in his council room. He’d called for a meeting of all his senior staff. Even Idris would be attending, having brought Madog’s old domain in Dyffryn Camarch far enough along toward normality to leave it briefly in the hands of his delegates. Rhys had sent Edern in his place, since his grandfather’s frequent visits had kept him up-to-date on the situation in Edgewood.

  Gwyn looked around the table as they quieted and attended to him.

  “Nothing has changed since yesterday.” George caught fleeting expressions of relief on some of the faces. “Before we discuss the Travelers’ Way, I want to bring us all up to date on our different tasks. We need to know where we are, before we can plan our next steps.”

  Gwyn pursed his lips. “Our alliance with the rock-wights was formalized this morning. We plan an initial round of gifts, a taste of what they can learn from us, well, really from the humans, through George. We explained the notion of an ambassador to them, and they’ve appointed Seething Magma to that role.”

  Surveying the smiles around the table, he added, “So, now we have access to new ways, beyond their first contributions. We must take measure of how this changes everything for us, how best we should proceed.”

  “We will begin with a summary of the situation in the outlying districts. Idris, please tell us all how things are going, over the mountain.”

  Idris leaned forward to speak. “I know some of you are more current than others, so forgive me if you’ve heard this before. After the death of Madog more than a month ago,” he tipped his head to George, “neutralizing his officers was surprisingly straightforward. The destruction of the internal ways hampered their ability to communicate and, without the fear and threat of Madog or any heir to defend, their heart wasn’t really in it. It took about two weeks for the last pockets of resistance to yield.

  “I am minded to reinstate some of them, the ones that seem least corrupted, but I’m waiting until we can organize more information from the populace they controlled, lest we unknowingly include any that have serious accusations against them. My senior officers are sitting in summary courts, listening to the complaints of the people, and have been for a while.

  “As we expected, we’ve experienced a version of the awakening at Edgewood, now that the external barrier way is gone. The effect was never as severe because the distances were greater, but the population is also much larger, so I’ve been working with Rhys to copy his basic methods of cleaning up and moving forward to make as much progress as fast as possible. Edgewood was collapsing when we got to it, but Dyffryn Camarch was more self-sufficient and is recovering much more quickly. I think we can slow down some of the emergency supplies.”

  “A good thing, too,” Ifor Moel commented. “It’s been a strain on our resources supporting both of them at once. The real answer is to get the traders involved. There never were korrigans in Dyffryn Camarch, but they’re certainly welcome now. There were no outside traders at all, near as we can tell. The korrigans have been a big help at Edgewood, getting the mills going and setting up shop again. And they’re eager to work with the rock-wights.”

  Gwyn asked, “Do you think we should let it be known that we seek settlers for Dyffryn Camarch, as we did for Edgewood?”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Idris said. “The folks at Edgewood were our own, and so are many of the adventurers that have poured in for resettlement. Madog’s people are different. We don’t have blood ties with them. They have their own way of doing things, and we will need to be careful how we integrate their folk and ours.”

  Gwyn shook his head. “They’re all our folk now,” he said. “As soon as you can be confident that you’
ve located most of the threats hiding in the general population, I want you to draw up a plan whereby they can operate on the same basis as the rest of the people in this domain, with the same resettlement options.”

  “As you wish, my lord,” Idris said.

  Gwyn looked at his notes. “How are the new ways working out for you?”

  “They’re a great help, my lord. We used one to join Tan-y-bryn, the village at the base of the keel mountain Y Farteg to Madog’s old court, which we’ve renamed Tagell, the Snare. That one allows us to supply the keep three thousand feet up, and it makes a superb base of operations. The Rescue Way from the old garden at Tagell to Edgewood gives us direct communication with Rhys so that we can support each other militarily at need, or simply exchange goods. And there’s the Dyffryn Way, of course, from the keep back to Daear Llosg, so all three are well connected.

  “The other four ways connect the most important of the market towns, but we’ll need to start building roads soon. Dyffryn Camarch was rich in ways, many more than we’ve just added, so the roads are ill-tended.”

  George winced privately, but it couldn’t have been helped. He’d had to kill all the ways in Madog’s domain, with Cernunnos’s help, in order to trap him there and destroy him. It was like burning all the bridges over a wide area—it would take time to restore the routes that people relied on for everyday use.

  “Edern,” Gwyn asked his brother, “How goes Edgewood?”

  “Much improved. All the survivors have been accounted for and, where possible, reunited with their families. The good news is that none of the damage from the barrier way that imprisoned them seems to be permanent, though many people lost family members while under its influence. They’re rebuilding as quickly as they can, and each of the villages is a hive of activity. They’re determined to move forward and put it behind them.”

  “As Ifor said,” he continued, “the korrigans and the outside settlers have had a great influence on the strength of the recovery. I only wish we had more of them. Between that and the improvement in the local people, I think Edgewood’s out of danger.”

  He glanced at Idris. “I understand Idris’s concerns, but Dyffryn Camarch is very large and could easily digest many hundreds of settlers and several branches of external traders, now that it’s possible. If you want to hasten both the recovery and the integration, I recommend doing that.”

  “Thank you, brother,” Gwyn said. “We have been gifted with six more ways by the rock-wights, and we have an agreement in place for acquiring more. For now, I’d like recommendations from everyone in the next two days about the locations of these first six ways, and the beginnings of a strategic plan for ways, overall. Bring all your issues to Ceridwen—she’ll present an initial plan to us in a few days.”

  He paused and surveyed the listeners, and George thought, now he’ll get into it.

  “You’ve all heard that my father has invaded Bryntirion and seized the end of the Travelers’ Way. He allowed Geraint to come and deliver his message, and I sent him back to keep watch. So far we have offered no resistance there and the situation is bloodless, if dangerous.”

  Idris said, “You allowed your men to withdraw before Lludd’s advance?”

  “That was done without my direction,” Gwyn said, “but I approve it. There are not enough defenders there to stand against a tyrannical king, with most of my strength here. Better they watch and wait, and husband their resources.”

  “What are Lludd’s terms?” Edern asked.

  George could see Gwyn’s jaw stiffen. “My father has graciously permitted limited trade to continue, but of course that is little more than a taunt—he can shut it off at any time.”

  Rhodri commented, “But you can close the way yourself and keep Lludd and his men from entering.”

  Gwyn nodded. “True. But if I want trade I have to keep it open.”

  George wondered how many of the traders were spies, infiltrating Greenway Court, leaving surprises like yesterday’s box for Angharad. How many had already passed through before the seizure? Lludd had turned up the pressure—would more covert attacks be the result? He shifted uneasily in his chair.

  “Idris,” Gwyn said. “I want to see plans for a military defense of our end of the Traveler’s Way. I don’t wish to rely solely on way-tokens, and it would be as well if Lludd’s covert agents could see a show of force on our side.”

  “A show, my lord?” Idris asked. “Don’t you expect it to be used?”

  “That not where the battle will be,” Gwyn said. “I expect to meet with Lludd Llaw Eraint, my father, soon. He wants what we have, and I intend to keep it out of his hands.”

  After dinner that night in the great hall, Gwyn summoned his brother Edern for a private conversation. The night was mild for winter, and they walked about well-wrapped on the terrace in front of the manor house, working off the meal.

  “I have formally protested to our father,” Gwyn said.

  Edern looked at him. “And?”

  “His pretense is to limit emigration while Madog’s domain is under dispute. His brothers are protesting, Lludd says.”

  “All seventeen of them?” Edern said, sarcastically.

  Gwyn smiled briefly. “He offers to make up for it by sending us two new huntsman trainees, after the old usage.”

  Privately, Gwyn wondered where that idea had come from. George had mentioned being short-staffed, but Lludd wouldn’t know that. Lludd had no interest in the continuation of the annual great hunt—that could only solidify Gwyn’s relationship with Cernunnos.

  “Did he now?” Edern commented. “What does your great-grandson say to that?”

  “I haven’t told him yet.” Gwyn knew his great-grandson was chafing under limited information. He’d hoped he could keep it that way a while longer, but George was pushing at the restrictions and the thwarted attack on Angharad with no response had exhausted his patience.

  Edern walked to the edge of the terrace steps and looked east into the night. The constellation of the Hunter blazed in the clear winter sky.

  “You have to tell your huntsman, and you have to take him with you when you go. He’s part of your arsenal now, and you can’t leave him behind.”

  “I have every intention of using him,” Gwyn said, “and he’s got to be a willing participant, just as Cernunnos has to agree.”

  He joined Edern on the top of the steps. “I must get Cernunnos’s acceptance in this or it goes nowhere. Everything hinges on that.”

  Edern grunted in assent and they stood together silently for a few moments.

  “Is our father trying to keep you from the contest on Nos Galan Mai?”

  “How can he? He must know of the existence of the Family Way, even if he’s not sure where it comes out.” He looked sideways at Edern. “I can’t avoid it. I’ve lost the contest, sometimes, but never forfeited. I must attend. I know it’s awkward—I’ll have to come through to your domain instead of mine, and our father will no doubt find out more than we want him to.”

  Edern turned and faced his brother. “You know, I’ll have to join you if you break away from our father. What will happen to all of us if you fail? Even if you succeed, how can I keep my domain there, or you yours?”

  Gwyn silently acknowledged the justice of the complaint. “I know, and I’m sorry,” he said. “You’ll be first here, after me, and well-rewarded, but change is never easy.” He reached out with both hands and gripped his brother’s arms. “I value your support.”

  Edern nodded in acknowledgment. “This quiet time before the fray won’t last much longer, and then events will carry us along with little care how we try to steer them.”

  He looked at his brother. “What support do you hope to get?”

  “I thought to involve some of Lludd’s hunting lords,” Gwyn said. “A gift of whelps, from George’s breeding in a few days, would be well-received.”

  “And some of the others will want to curb our father’s ambition and greed for power,” Edern said
. “Enough of them?”

  Gwyn shrugged. “The wizards have their own ambitions, especially the unaligned ones. Let’s compare lists tomorrow, if you will advise me.”

  Edern nodded.

  Gwyn said, “I’ve been told that Lludd knows far too much already about the elementals and the death of Madog, especially the destruction of the ways and George’s part in that. It’s only a matter of days, I believe, before there will be a summons to court.”

  “Are you going to wait for that?” Edern said.

  “No. I thought I’d make my own excuse for coming, with my full entourage. A mark of my own royal line, a show of strength.”

  Edern raised an eyebrow.

  “How can you forget? Your granddaughter Rhian has just turned fifteen,” Gwyn said, grinning.

  Edern laughed. “That’s why you haven’t scheduled the coming-of-age ceremony for her yet. You’re planning a full court presentation.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Be careful what you wish for, George said to himself as he walked away from Gwyn’s council room after lunch the next day. I wanted more hunt staff as backup and, lo, they appear. It didn’t occur to me that they could be spies, too.

  Gwyn was less than forthcoming about their allegiances or, rather, the allegiances of their sponsors who were releasing them from other duties for a year or more. This Gwion fellow came from the staff of a woman named Glesni. George thought he detected a certain note in Gwyn’s voice when he spoke of her. An old flame? In any case, he clearly counted her as a friend.

  The other one, Dyfnallt, was sent by some lord named Cuhelyn. Again, Gwyn was reserved about the background, but there was no warmth in his expression when he mentioned Cuhelyn’s name.

  There’s a history there, he thought, for both of the noble sponsors. But if Gwyn won’t tell me about it, I’ll have to go into it blind. He did admit they were both being sent by Lludd, so I better assume the worst. Damn. I don’t want to be suspicious of new members on my hunt staff but I’d be a fool not to be.