The Dragon Bard (Dragon of the Island) (48 page)

He shrugged abruptly. “And then Rhun encountered you and brought news of you home, and still you didn’t come. I began to wonder at the character of a man who would make his beloved mother suffer for the sake of his own pride.”

A sudden desperation and despair came over Bridei. “You might have asked me to come home,” he said tautly. “You might have sent word with Rhun that I was welcome. But you never did.”

His father let out a long, drawn-out breath. “So your mother always said. She never blamed you for not coming home. She said I was the parent and therefore, it was my responsibility to repair the breach. But I couldn’t see it.” He took another deep breath, almost like a sob. “I was wrong, my son. I was wrong.”

Bridei nodded stiffly. He didn’t know what else to do. Although he wanted to embrace his father, that seemed too strange.

“Anyway. You’re here at last. And you have a beautiful woman with you. And not just any beautiful woman, your mother tells me, but a queen.” His father smiled suddenly. Bridei was relieved to see he had all his teeth. That was a sign of good health; he might live many more years.

“Aye, she is a queen,” Bridei responded. “And as proud and strong and capable as any ruler. Alas, at this moment, she is exiled from her lands and her people.” Quickly, he told his father the tale of her capture by O’Bannon, how he’d helped her escape and how they’d returned to Cahermara to find it deserted. “She would have begun gathering together her warriors to again take control of her stronghold, except we discovered she was with child. Knowing that, we thought it too dangerous to stay there, and I decided to bring her here until the child was born. As soon as she recovers, she plans to return and reclaim her lands.”

Maelgwn went back to his chair. Sitting down, he said, “You’ll forgive me if I seem overwhelmed, but this is a lot to take in.”

“Aye. I suppose it is. In a matter of moments, you must deal with things I came to terms with over a span of months.”

“When will the babe be born?”

“Near Beltaine, I think.”

At that moment a young woman with reddish brown hair came rushing in. Seeing Bridei, she halted and took a step back. “Oh,” she said, her blue eyes wide with surprise.

“What do you want, Anwyl?” asked Maelgwn.

Anwyl's gaze shot to her father. “I didn’t realize you had a guest.”

There was a hint of defiance in her tone, and when Maelgwn answered, he sounded provoked, “Regardless of whether I had a guest or not, you might have knocked.”

“Sorry, Papa.” Anwyl's mouth quirked as she spoke, making her apology seem almost contemptuous.

“Well, Anwyl.” Bridei approached her. “You’ve certainly grown up to be a beauty.”

She immediately tensed, reminding Bridei of a cat ready to spring. There was no doubt his oldest sister was a handful. Even the mighty Dragon would be hard put to tame her.

“Who is this?” Anwyl asked. She gave Bridei a wary look.

“If you’d come home to dinner last night you would know who our guest is,” her father answered irritably.

“I was riding and lost track of time.”

“Riding? Alone?” Maelgwn scowled. “I’ve warned you many times that it isn’t safe. You should take one of the grooms at least.”

“Why isn’t it safe? The raiders haven’t come around for years, and everyone else I might encounter is far too afraid of you to harm a hair on my head.”

There was such arrogance in her manner; it reminded Bridei of himself at that age. Although she was far older than he’d been when he left Deganwy. She must be close to eighteen winters by now. Fairly old to remain unwed, especially for a princess.

“It’s not safe to ride alone,” Maelgwn responded. “Even if you were male, it would be risky.”

“Mother goes walking in the forest alone,” she said pertly.

Maelgwn sighed, and Bridei could tell this conversation had taken place many times before and his father was weary of it.

“You still haven’t told me who this man is,” Anwyl said with a coquettish toss of her head. When she smiled, Bridei saw she still had the dimple on her cheek he remembered from when she was little. “Is he another prince you fancy wedding me to? He’s handsome enough, although I don’t doubt I could beat him at swordplay.”

Bridei choked on a laugh. His sister felt free to behave with a boldness that would have caused his father to thrash him.

Glancing at Maelgwn, he saw his father’s face had turned an alarming hue of red.

“Nay, he’s not a potential suitor!” Maelgwn exploded. “Thank the gods for that! Indeed, I no longer invite marriageable men to visit our household for fear of how you will shame me!”

“So, who is he?” Anwyl asked, studying Bridei. “There’s something familiar about him, although I can’t place what it is.”

“I’m your brother,” Bridei said, laughing. He reached out and pulled a lock of her ruddy hair, the way he used to tweak her braids. “It’s Bridei, Anwyl.”

She stared at him, and Bridei noted that her eyes were a stormy gray blue, like their father’s. “Bridei,” she said almost tenderly. The next minute, she looked furious. “How dare you stay away so long! Rhun told us you were in Britain years ago. He came home, but you never did. How could you do that to Mama? You broke her heart! And mine as well. The younger ones don’t really remember you, but I do. Oh, how could you do it? How could you leave us?”

Her response was so extreme that Bridei put his hands up reflexively. “I’m sorry, Anwyl. I didn’t know it mattered so much. You have three other brothers, after all.”

The anger seemed to leave her. “It’s not the same,” she whispered. “They’re nothing like you.”

Bridei felt a sudden warmth wash over him. He’d never realized his sister cared so much for him. “Well, I’m back now,” he said. “And I plan to stay awhile. I’ve brought a woman with me, a woman I intend to wed. And she’s going to have a baby, so you will be an aunt. I’m certain that will please you.”

“I’m already an aunt. Rhun has a baby boy.”

“I didn’t know that. But I’ve scarce had time to find out all the news. We only arrived last night.”

“Who is this woman you intend to wed?” asked Anwyl.

“She’s a queen,” said Bridei proudly. “Queen of the Fionnlairaos. And she’s nearly as bold and fearless as you are, so I think you’ll like her. Indeed, I should go and fetch her now.” He nodded to his father. “We’ll meet you in the hall. I’m certain Dessia will be eager to break her fast. Although she’s over the worst of being sick in the morning, she still needs to eat frequently.”

“The hall, aye,” his father said. “We’ll gather there and you can tell all of us what you’ve been doing for the past ten years.”

* * *

Dessia watched Bridei bathe in the wooden tub in the guest bedchamber. She’d already had a chance to wash. Now she sat on a stool, carefully combing out her wet hair.

“You should have a maid do that,” said Bridei.

“Rhiannon sent a girl to help me, but I sent her away. I wanted to be alone with you.”

Bridei stopped washing and looked at her pointedly. “We don’t have much time, my love. If you want to make the most of it, you’d best get over here.”

“
That’s
not why I wanted to be alone with you,” Dessia answered. “I wanted to find out how things went with your father.”

Bridei hesitated, trying to decide how to answer. Finally, he said, “He apologized, if you can believe that. Said he should never have sent me away. I almost got the sense that he’d missed me and was glad I’d come back.”

“I’m sure he does,” Dessia said. “I’m so glad you’ve mended the rift between you. He’s not a young man any more. You don’t know how long he’ll be around.”

“You’re suggesting the great Dragon is mortal?”

“Of course, he’s mortal. We all are.”

“Why so melancholy, sweeting?” Bridei asked.

She shook her head. “I suppose it has to do with carrying a babe. It reminds me how precious life is. And, I have to say, coming here and meeting your family, it makes me feel sad. You’ve lost a lot of time that you could have had with them. But at least you’re able to be with them now. My family is lost to me forever. It’s a wound that never seems to heal.”

“I’m your family now,” said Bridei softly. “The babe and I.”

Dessia got up and took Bridei a drying cloth. He stood and wrapped it around himself. As soon as he was out of the tub, he pulled her close. “My darling,” he whispered. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered back.

“Bridei, stop pacing!”

“I can’t help it, Mother. I’m beside myself with worry.” Bridei gestured toward the closed door of the bedchamber.

“Perhaps you should go in and see her,” Rhiannon suggested. “Perhaps that would ease your mind.”

Bridei froze. “That’s allowed? I thought men were forbidden from being part of these things.”

Rhiannon smiled. “It’s not the usual way. But your father was there for your birth. Anyway, I wasn’t suggesting you stay. I just thought if you saw her now, when she’s uncomfortable but not miserable, it might make you feel better.”

“If only you hadn’t told me there are two babes. You know such births are risky.”

His mother drew near and squeezed his shoulder soothingly. “I thought you should be prepared. If it’s any comfort, remember that I bore twins and all was well.”

“But you —” Bridei took an anguished breath. “You’re special . . . blessed of the Goddess. No one ever believed She would take you.”

“Your father certainly feared for my life when you were born. That’s why he ended up in the bedchamber. He said couldn’t stand around waiting helplessly.”

“Were you afraid?” Bridei asked. “Did you think you would die?”

“Nay. I never did. I’d been through so much by then.” A faint sadness crossed her face. Then she smiled at him, that radiant lovely smile that always eased his heart. “I shouldn’t tell you this. It’s probably best if you do suffer and worry, much as your wife has to suffer. But . . . I’ve seen a vision of your children, Bridei. I think the Seeing was of the two she’s carrying now. But even if it isn’t, even if they both perish, it means I’m certain Dessia will give you two children at some point in the future. I’ve seen them. A boy and a girl.”

“With red hair?” Bridei asked. He gripped his mother’s arm tightly. “Did the children you saw have red hair?”

“Aye.”

He let out his breath. “I’ve seen them, too, when I was in the Forest of Mist.” He shook his head in amazement. “Should I tell Dessia?”

She smiled at him. “Just reassure her that all will be well. That’s all she needs to know for now. She has a long night ahead of her.” Easing from his grasp, his mother headed toward the bedchamber door.

* * *

Bridei held the side of the large currach and looked out at the vast stretch of gray blue waves disappearing into the horizon. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he said. “There was a time when I vowed I’d never set foot in a boat ever again.”

“Your last crossing wasn’t so bad, was it?” Dessia rocked back and forth as she spoke, moving in the age-old dance meant to soothe the two babies she carried, one in each arm.

Bridei took one of the infants from her, snuggling his son against his chest. “Nay, it wasn’t so bad, because I slept most of the crossing. I doubt I’ll be able to do that this time.” He looked down at his solemn-eyed son and smiled. “You won’t let me sleep, Darragh, will you? You haven’t done so the last few nights, so I doubt this day will be any different.”

“They’re teething,” Dessia said. “Not a good time for this, perhaps, but I didn’t want to wait any longer. We were fortunate last time, but everyone says winter crossings can be dangerous.”

Bridei nodded. His heart wrenched whenever he thought of the potential dangers ahead of them. Bridei felt sure Dessia’s people would rally around her as soon as they had news of her return, but they might still have to fight a few battles to retake Cahermara and gain control of her family’s lands. But it would be much easier to do these things with the aid of the warband Maelgwn had lent them. Two score of Cymry warriors massed on the beach behind them, saying their goodbyes to their families. This time it wouldn’t be one boat that crossed the Irish Sea, but more than a dozen.

Bridei’s heart squeezed as he thought about how generous his father had been, offering them not only men but horses. Farther down the beach, two of Maelgwn’s most experienced men were trying to coax a mist-colored stallion and mare into a huge currach. They were the beginning of the herd of horses that Bridei hoped would one day graze the rich green hills around Cahermara. Someday in the future, the Fionnlairaos would once again stand for “the tribe of the white horse”.

Darragh began to fuss, and Bridei stroked his little round head, covered with only a few sparse reddish gold curls. Then he turned to look at Dessia. Since becoming a mother she seemed even more beautiful. His heart squeezed with love as he looked at her, and at his rosy-cheeked daughter, Angharad, cradled in her arms. “We’re going back, Dessia,” he said. “Back to reclaim your kingdom.”

She drew near and embraced him. “My heart may belong to Ireland, Bridei. But my soul is yours.”