The Bardic Academy (A Bard Without a Star, Book 3) (14 page)

Aodhgán
grinned. “I hear that three others are ready to receive the star, and have
been waiting for you. Their names are Donnel, Fayla, and Tagun. Maybe you
know them?”

Fidgen laughed.
“I’ll bet they drove the Pen Bardd crazy with their request.”

“He was a
bit upset, but they were quite insistent.”

“Is there a
point where I give my true name to someone?”

“No, that’s
for you and for you alone,” Aodhgán said. “It would be foolish to reveal it to
anyone you didn’t have to.”

They
crossed the plain of Temair, Fidgen began to feel a bit nervous about what he
had planned, but he knew it was the right thing to do. He offered up silent
prayers to Ogmah, Epona, Mannanan, and the Three Queens, and hoped it would be
enough.

Taris sat
on a hill that rose from the plain, with the Lannae river running by the east
side. The north and south sides of the city came almost all the way to the
foot of the hill, but the west side, which they were approaching, sat higher.

They
reached the west gates just before noon, and the fians on duty waved them
through. They rode up the main road to the palace, where more fians stood
guard. One of them stepped in front of their horses and said, “Hold, and state
your business.”

“I am
Ollave Aodhgán, and this is the student bard Fidgen,” Aodhgán said. “We are
here that Fidgen may be accepted by the Ard Righ and the Pen Bardd, and given
the Star of the Bards.”

The fian
nodded. “Be welcome to this place, and may you find what you seek.”

They rode
through the gates, where grooms took their horses. Aodhgán led them to the
MiCuarta, the largest hall in the palace, where Columb met them. “Welcome
Fidgen,” he said. “Did you find what you sought at Gorsedd Ogham?”

“I did,”
Fidgen answered.

“And are
you ready to appear before the Ard Righ?”

“I am.”

“Come with
me.”

Unlike most
halls, the MiCuarta was round, and the Ard Righ sat in the middle, with rows of
seating circling him. Many people filled the room with the low hum of
conversation, but Fidgen only noticed the three standing in front of the
throne, and the smiles they gave him filled his heart and took away all his
nervousness. He wanted to talk to them, but the Pen Bardd immediately lined
them up and stood in front of them. “Ard Righ Fergus, Lord of Taris and
Sovereign of the Seven Isles, I present these candidates for the Star of the
Bards.”

King Fergus
had salt and pepper hair and beard, but he still looked strong and healthy. He
leaned forward to study the students, and Fidgen was grateful to see wisdom and
discernment in his eyes. “Let each step forward,” he said.

Donnel went
first. “My name is Donnel macBuchan.”

Columb
said, “Donnel has been tested and proven himself worthy of the star of the
bards. Wilt thou, majesty, accept his judgment as binding?”

“I will,”
Fergus answered.

Columb
turned to the audience. “Let it be known that Donnel MacBuchan is forever more
without honor price, worthy of wearing a cloak of six colors, and able to judge
any dispute in Glencairck.”

Several
people applauded as another bard came out with a new cloak. Columb unclasped
Donnel’s student bard cloak and let it drop to the ground. He put the new
cloak on Donnel’s shoulders and clasped it with a star shaped pin above his
heart. “Welcome, brother,” he said.

“Thank you,”
Donnel said with a bow.

Fayla and
Tagun repeated the process, and Fidgen’s nervousness returned. When Tagun
stepped back in line, he took a deep breath and stepped forward. “My name,” he
said, “is Gwydion ap Don, Tanist of Gwynedd.”

For several
long seconds, the only thing that happened was that Columb put his face in his
hand. Then two voices rang out clearly.

Bran
yelled, “I have claims on that man!”

And
Arianrhod screamed, “I knew it!”

The hall erupted in chaos.
Arianrhod continued screaming, but Bran simply stood and began making his way
to the center of the hall. People looked at his face and moved quickly out of
the way. Gwydion felt much like he had when the Firbolg had tried to bind him,
and he responded the same way: he stood very still and concentrated on staying
himself. But even more than at Innishmor, a part of him wanted nothing more
than to become a raven and flee.

Columb
pulled out his harp and began playing, and the magic that rippled forth caught
everyone’s attention and calmed them all. The hall began to quiet, and even
Arianrhod stopped yelling, though she too began making her way to the throne
with a young boy in tow. Ard Righ Fergus, after a moment of shock, looked at
Gwydion with some amusement. “And I thought this was going to be a simple
ceremony.”

“As did I,”
Columb said, without a trace of humor. “I should have known better with this
one.”

Bran
reached them first and bowed low. “Ard Righ, I am Bran ap Don, Lord Gwynedd,
and I have claims on this man.”

“So do I,”
Arianrhod said coming up beside him.

“And you
are...?” the king asked.

“Arianrhod
ap Don.”

“Are there
any other members of the Don clan that would like to come forward?” the Ard
Righ asked, raking the audience with his eyes. When no one answered, he said, “Very
well. Lord Gwynedd, since I at least have some inkling of your claim, please
go first.”

Bran said, “This
man caused the destruction of Caer Dathyl, the death of Math ap Mathonwy, and
the death of Gilventhy ap Don. I seek judgment for these things.”

“Pen Bardd?”
the king said. “Do you have knowledge of this?”

“I do,”
Columb answered. “Gwydion has been judged by myself with the High Druid as
witness. The death and destruction you accuse Gwydion of happened as he tried
to defend himself. It was an unfortunate incident, but it was not intentional.”

Bran
nodded. “I wondered. But there is still the matter of his standing in Gwynedd.”

“How do you
mean?” King Fergus asked.

“He is
still Tanist, as he himself has just claimed.”

Fergus
looked at Gwydion. “Are you?”

“Math never
released me from that duty,” Gwydion said.

“Interesting.”
The Ard Righ sat back and looked at Columb. “I need your advice, Pen Bardd.
It seems that I have made Bran the cantref Lord, even though I should have
promoted Gwydion to that position. But at the time, no one knew if Gwydion was
alive or dead. No one I talked to, at least.”

Columb
bowed. “I knew where Gwydion was, but I did not know that he was still
Tanist. I’m sorry, your majesty, that was an oversight on my part.”

“So how do
we fix this?”

Columb
turned to Gwydion. “You have the right, if you choose, to claim the title of
Lord Gwynedd. What say you?”

“I
relinquish any right to that title, and ask that I be released from being
Tanist, as well,” Gwydion said. He turned to Bran. “The Pen Bardd and the
High Druid may have cleared me of any wrongdoing, but I am still the cause of
the destruction of Caer Dathyl. I do not know how you are related to me, but
if you are of the line of Don, then I support your claim to rule the Cantref.”

“My
grandfather was your great-grandfather’s brother,” Bran said. “Math trained me
when I was young, but I could not hear the winds, so I became a trusted member
of his household instead.”

“This is
all very interesting and heartwarming, I’m sure,” Arianrhod said, “but I still
have a claim here as well.”

Fergus
fixed her with a hard stare. “I have not forgotten,” he said. “But you should
remember your place in this hall.”

Arianrhod
fumed, but remained silent. Gwydion could hardly stand to look at her, but he
had seen the hate in her eyes, and did not know how to change it.

“Will you
rebuild Caer Dathyl now that you know the truth?” Fergus asked Bran.

“I don’t
know,” Bran said. “I have searched for this one for so long, I have given no
thought to what I might do when I found him.”

“How did
you know he would be here?” Columb asked.

“Rumors
swirled about a student bard named Fidgen, who acted in some ways like the
young Tanist I knew, and in some ways completely unlike him,” Bran said. “When
the call went out for a bardic battle at Caer Bardd, I sent Math’s old bard
Talys. I knew he would recognize Gwydion no matter how he might have changed,
and he did.”

“You’re the
student bard Fidgen?” Fergus said incredulously.

“That was
the name I was commanded to use while I trained, yes,” Gwydion said.

“I see.”
Fergus turned back to Bran. “You’ve been a good lord to your people, and I am
happy to support you in that position. We have a problem, though. Gwydion has
developed quite a reputation in the last few years, and no matter how
voluntarily he has relinquished his title, when it is known that he and Fidgen
are one and the same, I can predict a certain amount of unrest.”

“How would
you like to handle the problem, majesty?” Columb asked.

Fergus
pursed his lips. “If even a portion of what I heard is true, then this one
will draw trouble like honey draws flies.”

“That does
seem to be the case, majesty.”

Fergus sat
back on his throne, rubbing his chin. “I hate to do this, because I don’t
think it’s all his fault,” he said slowly. “But I want Gwydion out of my
demesne for the next twenty years. I want none to rally around him or make him
the center of their cause, so let it be known that he being banished for the
destruction of Caer Dathyl.”

Arianrhod
looked triumphant, but Gwydion felt like he had been hit in the stomach. “Twenty
years?”

“It is for
the good of Glencairck,” Fergus said.

Gwydion
looked at Columb, who nodded. He struggled with the implications for a moment
before bowing his head. “I will do as you command.”

“Thank you,”
Fergus said. “Pen Bardd, please spread the word of Gwydion’s banishment, and
that Bran ap Don will continue as Lord Gwynedd.”

Columb
bowed. “It shall be done.”

The Ard
Righ turned to Arianrhod with a stern gaze. “Now, young lady, what is your
claim?”

Arianrhod
pulled the young boy forward. “This Gwydion’s son, that he put in me just
before disappearing from the face of the earth.”

Gwydion
felt the world shift within him again. “I have a son?”

“I swear
that he is yours and none other,” Arianrhod said. “And I will thank you to
take him into your household, if you ever have one.”

“What is
his name?” Gwydion said, staring at the boy. He had Ari’s blonde hair, but the
eyes reminded him of Math’s.

“I never
named him,” Ari said.

The
audience gasped, and Columb and Fergus both looked shocked. The Pen Bardd
recovered first, and knelt in front of the child. “What’s your name?”

“I don’t
have one,” the boy said clearly.

“What does
your mother call you then?” Columb asked gently.

“She
doesn’t talk to me at all, if she doesn’t have to.”

“I see,”
Columb said. “You’re what? Four years old? Who do you talk to?”

“I’m
three. I talk to the servants at the caer.”

“What do
they call you?”

“Boy.”

Columb
stood back up. “Arianrhod ap Don, you have committed a very serious offense.”

“
I
have?”
she said incredulously. “What about Gwydion?”

“He had no
knowledge of this child,” Columb. “You are his mother.”

“I didn’t
want to be anyone’s mother,” Arianrhod said. “That’s why I’m so furious with
him. He did this to me.”

“Did he
rape you?” Fergus asked.

“No,” she
admitted. “But he is a powerful wizard. No other woman he has bedded ended up
pregnant. Why me?”

“I cannot
answer that,” Columb said. “But I can render judgment on you for your
treatment of this child.”

“What am I
being judged for? Why don’t you judge
him
?” she said, pointing at
Gwydion.

“Gwydion
had a hand in the conception of this child, but you have been responsible for raising
him to this point,” Columb said. “Your refusal to even name him is sufficient
for you to be found guilty of a serious crime.”

Arianrhod
grew very still. She crossed her arms in front of her, and her eyes flashed
with cold fire. “Oh really? And what is my punishment?”

“Since you
cannot be trusted to act with the least amount of decency towards a child from
your own womb,” Columb said, “I hereby sentence you to be confined to Caer Sidi
off the coast of Gwynedd for the rest of your life.”

“You can’t
do that.”

“He can,
and he just did,” the king said. “It is harsher than what I would have done,
which is to take you out and execute you.”

Arianrhod
dropped her arms, and her fists clenched tight. “Then I lay this curse on the
boy: he will never have a name unless I give it to him.”

A wave of
magic washed through the hall like a cold wind. The force of it almost knocked
Gwydion over.

Ard Righ
Fergus stood up. “You have chosen an evil course,” he said. “Reverse it, and
give the child a name. Now.”

“Or what?”
Arianrhod said. “Or you’ll have me killed? Then how would he ever get named?”

“You have
proven the wisdom of the Pen Bardd’s judgment on you, Arianrhod ap Don,” the
king said. He motioned to a couple a fians standing nearby. “Take her out of
here. Let her return to her home to gather what she needs, and then ensure
that she goes directly to Caer Sidi.”

“Yes, your
majesty,” they said with a salute.

“And take a
whole squad with you,” the king said. “I don’t trust her.”

They
watched as she was led out of the hall. Fergus turned to Gwydion. “You’ve
been very quiet during all this,” he said.

“I am still
struggling with the fact that I have a son,” Gwydion said.

“Well,
there he is,” Fergus said. “I’m placing him in your care, and expect you to do
for him what his mother would not.”

Gwydion
reached out a hand, and the boy came over and took it. “I will do what I can.”

“I know you
will,” Fergus said. He flashed a smile. “The Pen Bardd chose her punishment
well, since Caer Sidi is technically apart from the rest of Glencairck. Now is
the time to prove all that has been told of your abilities, for the sake of
your son.”

“Thank you,
majesty,” Gwydion said.

“Thank the
Pen Bardd for his quick thinking.”

Gwydion
turned and bowed deeply to Columb. “Thank you, Master.”

Columb
opened his mouth to answer when Donnel stepped forward. “I want to go with
Fidgen. I mean, Gwydion.”

Tagun and
Fayla nodded. “So do we,” they said.

Columb
shook his head. “Your loyalty is admirable,” he said. “But you are bards now,
and I have other tasks for you. I’m sorry.”

“We are
free men who can choose our own fate,” Donnel said, his hand automatically
going for a sword he was not wearing.

“Yes, you
can,” Columb answered. “But it would be ill advised on many levels. You have
already sworn your oath to me and to Glencairck, and you have been accepted by
the Ard Righ. If you choose to go with Gwydion, I will bind you all and take
you to Gorsedd Ogham, where we will make sure you are never bards again.”

Gwydion
stepped forward. “Don’t do this,” he said. “I asked you once before to let me
make my own way; please let me do so again.”

“Twenty
years is a long time,” Tagun said. “Anything could happen.”

“And with
my luck, probably will,” Gwydion said. “But I could use friends here when I
return.”

“And will
you return?” Fayla said.

“I promise
it,” Gwydion said. “And I will send messages as I can.”

“You’d
better,” Donnel said. “You know we will seek ye out if you don’t.”

“To the
ends of the earth,” Tagun said.

“I know it,
and I am more grateful than you know.”

Columb
cleared his throat. “It is about time for you to leave,” he said.

Gwydion
hugged his friends. “Can I have a moment with my son?” he asked Columb.

“Of course.”

Gwydion
moved a little away from everyone and knelt down to look in the boy’s eyes. “Hello,”
he said tentatively.

“Are you my
Da?” the boy asked.

“I am that,”
Gwydion said.

“You took a
long time getting here.”

Gwydion
smiled crookedly. “I didn’t know I was supposed to come, or else I would have
been here sooner.”