Children of Time (The After Cilmeri Series Book Four) (2 page)

It had become clear to us in the last three years, since England had relinquished its claim to Wales, that the Norman barons were awash in disunity. A given baron might have his supporters, but none had enough to overcome an alliance of his enemies. The regency had been a temporary measure, a compromise until one baron gathered enough power to himself to take the throne outright. The alliance of Bigod, Valence, and Vere had been such an attempt.

Although that attempt had failed, how many barons had thought to implement something similar until Valence’s defeat had forced them to reconsider? Clare had been waiting for Llywelyn’s death to launch his own assault on Wales. He had viewed David as weaker than his father. Victory would have given him the upper hand over the other barons. But now, even he supported David.

David looked away. As I’d feared, the old argument threatened to consume them again. Between two equals, there was no tie-breaking vote, not even if it was mine. Wanting to diffuse the tension, I put a hand between David’s shoulder blades and rubbed gently. It was a mom’s attempt to cut through the discord that I couldn’t stand to feel between him and his father a second longer. While I fought for what to say to him—anything that would ease the premature lines of care that had formed around his eyes—David bent his head to mine and sighed.

I didn’t know that I’d ever get used to having a son eight inches taller than I was, but my heart still melted when I looked at him, as it had when he was a chubby boy of three. He would be twenty tomorrow. I had to shake my head in disbelief when I thought about how much David had grown since the day he came to Wales with Anna. It was a man who looked down on me now.

I put a hand to either side of his face. “What I wish for you, more than anything, is for the burdens you carry to wear on you less, and that you could learn to live more lightly. That’s not fair to ask of you, because you carry all of Wales on your shoulders, but we used to have
fun
, remember?”

“God—I know, Mom.” David touched his forehead to mine. “I’m no good for Lili half the time. More like a bear than a husband. And now with the baby—”

Llywelyn reached across me and gripped David’s shoulder. “Son—” he said, but then didn’t finish his thought. Instead, the skin on his knuckles whitened and he held on more tightly.

“Llywelyn! What is it?” I touched his arm.

The muscles in Llywelyn’s face tightened and the tendons in his neck stood out. “
Cariad—
” Llywelyn clutched at his chest with his right hand. Then his knees gave way and David and I staggered with him, striving to hold him up as our hips hit the wall behind us.

“My lord!” Goronwy, who’d been watching without interruption while we talked, sprang forward.

“Help me—” Llywelyn clasped my hand and fought for breath.

I tucked my shoulder under Llywelyn’s arm while David took his other side, and between us we settled him on the ground at the base of the battlement.

“What’s happening, Mom?” David said.

“I-I don’t know for sure,” I said.

“I’ll get Aaron.” David sprinted for the doorway that led to the wine cellar.

I huddled beside Llywelyn, who continued to clutch at me.

Goronwy crouched in front of us. “It has to be now, Meg. We have to do this
now
.”

“I know, Goronwy, I know.” Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them back. This wasn’t a time for weeping. In my head, a mantra repeated itself over and over again until I feared I would scream it instead of bottling it up inside me so I could be strong for Llywelyn:
Oh God, don’t let him die. Don’t let him die. I can’t live without him!
“Help me get him up.”

“What—what—what are you doing?” Llywelyn spoke in a breathy whisper. His eyes didn’t seem to see me, even as he swallowed hard and repeated his question, his voice strengthened this time with indignation.

“It’s time to go, my love
.
” I pressed my cheek to his, feeling the rough scruff of his beard on my skin.

“No!” Llywelyn tried to push me away. “I won’t let you.”

“We’ve talked about this,” I said. “It’s this or you die.”

“It’s not worth the risk,” Llywelyn said. “Not to you. Not to the baby.”

“Isn’t it?” I looked to Goronwy. “Help me hold him up. We’re lucky this happened right here, near the low wall, instead of in the hall or our rooms, or I’d never manage it.”

“You’re not strong enough to do this by yourself, you know,” Goronwy said. “No more than Llywelyn would, I won’t let you go alone.”

“Of course I’m not going alone. I’m taking Llywelyn—”

I broke off as Goronwy lifted Llywelyn in his arms as if he weighed no more than a child. Llywelyn had been ill off and on since the battle in the Estuary in August. He’d tried to hide it, but I was his wife, and I knew. He’d lost weight, no matter how much he tried to deny it to David. I wouldn’t have said his weight loss was so much, however, that Goronwy could carry him.

I gritted my teeth. Llywelyn was wrong. It was long past time we went, whether he liked it or not.

With a grunt, Goronwy used a fallen rock as a step up and climbed to the top of the waist-high wall that overlooked the Wye River. He glanced down at me. “Are you coming? It’s not as if this will work if I do it by myself.”

“Yes, yes, of course I’m coming!” I lifted my skirts so they wouldn’t hinder my legs and scrambled to stand beside Goronwy. I looped the fingers of one hand around Goronwy’s sword belt and found Llywelyn’s hand with the other. Llywelyn no longer protested. With a rush of terror, I realized he had lost consciousness. We had so little
time.

“Mom! What are you doing?”

I looked back at my son who stood in the doorway to the balcony.
My beloved son.
I smiled, even as tears returned. “I love you. Give my love to Anna.”

And with Goronwy at my side, and my arms around Llywelyn, I jumped.

Chapter Two

15 November 1288

David

I
threw myself forward, desperate to stop Mom and Goronwy. But even before I moved, I knew it was too late. They had jumped before I was halfway across the balcony. When I reached the wall from which they’d leapt, I leaned over the edge to gaze down at the rushing water. I prayed to see their heads bob up—and prayed that I wouldn’t.

I wasn’t a fool. I had asked Mom what was wrong with Dad, but it wasn’t like I couldn’t tell. Dad was having a heart attack and Mom had done what she felt she must in order to save him. I’d done the same for Ieuan three years ago. I could hardly blame her for trying it too. As the water rushed by, I continued to stare. Then Lili’s arm slid around my waist. “What’s going on? I heard you call for Aaron. Did someone fall?” she said.

I hugged her to me, and then Anna and Math appeared on my other side to peer over the wall with us.

No heads appeared; nobody sputtered to the surface. The water was moving so fast they might have been a quarter of a mile downstream by now anyway—if they’d hit the water at all. I turned around to see Aaron standing in the middle of the balcony. His face fell as he looked at me
.
I read sadness—and pity—in his eyes.

“You knew about this?” I said.

“Yes,” Aaron said. “Or rather, your mother mentioned the possibility of-of—” he gestured helplessly towards the balustrade at my back, “—if the king’s health didn’t improve.”

“I didn’t even know he was sick.” I turned to Anna. “Did you?”

“Are you talking about Papa?” Anna said. “He’s been weaker than Mom and I like, but neither Aaron nor I have been able to put a finger on the problem. Why do you ask—?” Anna cut herself off, her face paling, and then she gazed over the edge of the wall again.

I looked past Aaron to the cluster of men-at-arms and servants who’d gathered at the entrance to the balcony. I lifted a hand to Evan, who came forward.

“Send a few men south along the river,” I said. “Even better, go yourself.”

“What am I looking for?” Evan matched my lowered tone.

“Bodies in the water.”

Evan’s jaw clenched. “My lord—”

I put a hand on his arm, gripping as tightly as my father had gripped my shoulder before he’d fallen, and then eased up. For all that my mother had asked that I live more lightly, I had to contain myself in front of these people. The Prince of Wales was not allowed to burst into tears, no matter what he felt inside. “I don’t expect you to find anyone.”

Evan’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded, obedient because he couldn’t
not
be. “Immediately, my lord.” He turned away. When he reached the other onlookers, he made a shooing motion and they allowed themselves to be urged out of the wine cellar and up the stairs to the main part of the castle.

Then Math was at my side and clenched his fingers around my upper arm. “You sent Evan to look for bodies.
Who fell
?”

“Better if we discuss this elsewhere,” I said.

“We know who, don’t we?” Lili said.

“Not
here
.” I wrapped one arm around Anna’s shoulders and the other around Lili’s. “Come with me.”

I could feel Anna’s silent protest at my refusal to talk, but how was I to say out loud that I’d seen Mom, Dad, and Goronwy jump into the river and disappear, whether into the water or the future? I ran over the events of the last few minutes in my mind and shook my head. They had to have made it. They
had
to—but I didn’t know for sure.

Two minutes later, I herded everyone into my office. Math shut the door behind him and stood with his back to it, his fists on his hips. I hadn’t let go of Anna, but now she pulled away and folded her arms across her chest. She glared at me with a mutinous expression. “Tell me.”

“Dad was having a heart attack …”

Anna dropped her arms, her anger gone in an instant. In two strides, Math reached her and put his arms around her waist so she could lean against him.

“… I ran for Aaron and by the time I got back to the balcony, Mom and Goronwy stood on the top of the wall, with Dad in Goronwy’s arms.” I tried to get my mouth to say the words
they jumped
, but couldn’t get them out. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes.

“Did anyone else see them go?” Anna said.

“No,” I said, “not unless one of the guards noticed from the battlement above.”

Math leaned over Anna’s shoulder. “You’re assuming they’ve gone to the future, and yet you sent Evan to look for them along the river?”

“I had to. We have to be sure,” I said.

“They would have been carried quickly downstream,” Math said. “The most likely spot for them to beach is at that sandbar, a mile to the south.”

“Only if they’d actually entered the water.” Anna was slowly recovering. She stared at me over hands clasped before her lips. “This is all my fault.”

My jaw dropped. “How could this possibly be
your
fault?”

“I’m the one who thought about climbing to the top of a tower and jumping off it,” Anna said. “Mom and I talked about it.”

I barked a laugh. “I’m the one who actually
did
it!”

But Anna’s eyes had filled with tears. She took a step towards me, Math loosened his grip, and I pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around my waist and sobbed into my shoulder. My own eyes were full of water too. I blinked back the tears. “They went, Anna,” I said. “They made it.”

Aaron cleared his throat. “My lord, as you guessed when we were outside, your mother discussed with me the possibility that this day might come.”

“Why didn’t you say something to any of us?” Anna said, her voice muffled in my shirt.

“Because she swore me to secrecy.” Aaron raised his hands and then let them fall. “I’m sorry.”

“The last thing she said to me was
love to Anna
,” I said, which garnered another sob from my sister.

“So they really meant to go,” Math said. “It couldn’t have been an accident?”

“Nobody stands above the Wye River by accident,” Lili said.

Anna released me and returned to Math. I paced to the window and back, running my hand through my hair and trying to
think
. “We need to discuss what we’re going to do now, before any of us has to face everyone out there.” I waved a hand towards the door, but I really meant
everyone
. The King of Wales couldn’t disappear and have nobody notice.

Math nodded. “You’ll have to tell the people something. I’m just not sure what.”

“Let it be known to those here at Chepstow that your mother took your father to Avalon, for healing,” Lili said, “as you did for Ieuan three years ago.”

I stopped my pacing and resisted the desire to spit on the floor.
Arthur
.
Again
. The legend followed me everywhere. How could I shake it when even my own father talked about it as if it were true? Nobody understood that Arthur’s boots were far too big for me. “We called it the Land of Madoc at that time and it was absurd then. They won’t believe my mother has taken Dad to Avalo—”

“They will believe it because they want to,” Lili said, “just as they accept you. They want to
believe
, so they do.”

My father had said much the same thing. I pursed my lips and stared at the floor, warring with myself, not wanting to admit that what she said would work, and that she might be right.

“For those who come here inquiring after the King,” Lili continued, “they will learn that he has headed north, to Aber.”

Math coughed and laughed at the same time. “And those who ask at Aber will be told that he is at Caerphilly.”

“Meanwhile …” Anna said.

“Meanwhile, we must pretend that nothing is amiss,” I said.

“We will have to alter our own plans, however,” Anna said. “Math and I can’t go to England with you.”

I looked over at her. “Why is that?”

“Because not only have we lost both our parents, but Gwenllian has too,” Anna said.

I could have kicked myself for forgetting our half-sister. Thank goodness Anna could keep her head together. I seemed to have lost mine. Anna and Math had been planning to leave their three year old son, Cadell, with Mom, Dad, and Gwenllian while they rode with Lili and me to London. Up until now, I’d been thinking mostly of myself and how I felt. If that was my default under pressure, how could my father think me ready to rule England? First, I needed to rule myself.