The great council and declarations had ended hours ago and the
Caer was quieter now, just the odd servant or maid crossing the courtyard far
below. As was her habit when life became difficult or confusing Eirwen would
come here, to sit on a wool-stuffed leather cushion she’d bring with her, placed
on the great timber buttress which protruded from the wall of this high eastern
quarter-tower. She pulled the deep, fleece-lined hood of her cloak up and over
her head, as although now it was almost summer, the gale that sliced across
these tall battlements was cold still and swept down from the frigid vastness
of the high north untamed. It nibbled at her ears but she revelled in it, as it
scoured her senses into more orderly furrows and the thrumming of the ragged
banner above her was like music to her ears. It wasn’t just the stunning views
across Fro Camelon, Linn Gwidan and their surrounding majesty, it was the
feeling of freedom which had brought her back here over the years, like a dove
to its cote. This dependable but icy northern blast, here at her most secluded
and secret spot had always seemed to strip away the meaningless and confirm the
significant in her tumbling thoughts, but this freezing wind provided no such
helpful analysis today.
The naïve, stick-like carving of the King Stag of Galedon she
had gouged into the timbers of this massive buttress with her dagger so long
ago remained. It made her smile now as she fingered it absently with a little
sadness, thinking back to a much simpler time when she had not a care in the
world and no comprehension of the responsibility, nor the depth of feelings
coming-of-age would summon within her.
Confined to a much quieter Caer, she had roamed the hallways,
chambers and pathways of CaerCamelon like a disconsolate ghost, completely
immersed in her own tragic thoughts and circumstance. Eirwen had retreated to
the inner sanctity of her mind, like a wounded vixen crawling back into her
lair and sneaking up here each evening. Her pale and lovelorn figure had been
the subject for concern for every single person who lived and worked in this
fortress, as their Princess was well-loved. The hallways, reception chambers
and passageways had seemed deserted compared to what had come before but it had
suited her mood admirably tonight. Now this great fortress was gearing-up once
more, this time for holy Beltain and despite her sour mood, she couldn’t ignore
the tickle of excitement at this major event which was fast approaching.
Dawn had arrived barely an hour ago, signalling the mid-day
mark and the early summer sunshine finally penetrated the towering eastern
clouds, throwing up a pale yellow fan of a thousand shattered rays. They lit
the great river and its harbour below with their elemental glory, making the
huge lake which formed the Cawg y Gwidan look aflame. From Eirwen’s perch on these eastern
battlements, together they looked like an enormous ladle, as the ‘Bowl of
Gwidan’ reached towards her like a huge liquid-metal plate on the land. It hung from the sinuous curves of Arglwydd Linn Gwidan in the distance, where she finds
the coast and broadens into white-flecked ocean. Linn Gwidan’s iron-grey,
rippling waters lap at the elm timber wharfing of Porth Camelon, before snaking
west and passing this eastern palisade almost directly below and she loved to
look down between her dangling feet from the stark dizzying heights to the
rocky ground below, as the fear always made her blood fizz and Lydia fret.
Eirwen heard a high-pitched scream in the sky above her,
causing her eyes to flick upwards and she saw the soaring Eagle, so high it was
almost a dot in the sky as it circled the great Caer. Bledri nudged her hand
with his cold wet nose and she smiled down at him, patting his broad shaggy
head and making his tail swish happily. “I’ve seen it Bledri my cu-cŵn!” She
thanked him with the common endearment and Bledri held up his enormous and
recently wounded paw. Eirwen looked down her nose at him. “It’s all better now
darling.” She said smiling, but her eyebrow arched as she looked again. “It’s
the wrong paw anyway you rogue!” She laughed, dropping his shaggy foreleg and
looking back up to the heavens. Eirwen quickly re-focused on this huge monarch
of the skies as she stepped her wings, elongated her body and began to plummet.
Eirwen had decided the sex of this fabulous bird immediately
and even felt a tenuous connection with this gimlet-eyed and feathered Branwen
of the heavens. Her heart tripped and her spirit soared at this wonderful omen
of freedom and just days from holy Beltain, it was particularly notable. Wide-eyed, Eirwen followed the arc of this
streaking missile as the bird accelerated, ominously folding her wings back. Down she came, arrowing from the sky and the bird of prey
suddenly broke the dizzying plummet, her taloned feet extending and she struck.
Whatever unfortunate bird had been the Eagle’s target it exploded in a sudden
puff of small feathers, as the huntress slammed into the frail frame of her
prey, talons snapping shut around the bony carcass. Casually tearing the head
from the captured bird, she flipped gracefully upside down into a breath-taking
and swooping curve, which propelled this ultimate predator back into the
heavens in the blink of an eye. Eirwen’s eyes glittered and her pulse was
racing as she sent a secret prayer to Arglwydd Branwen at that moment, in sincere
gratitude for her blessing. She almost turned to speak to Lydia about it then
before realising abruptly again that she missed her constant companion, as
Lydia was visiting her sick mother at the shore-side village in Gabrantofica,
that wild eastern coastal land she hailed from.
Eirwen only really appreciated Lydia fully when she was away,
as it dawned on her each time just how much she depended on her. It wasn’t just
the work she did for her personally which in itself was invaluable, on
reflection it was her unbroken loyalty and down-to-earth pragmatism that she missed
the most. Regardless of the young girl’s naivety in many areas of courtly life,
she had a bright mind and a sharp wit too, which always lifted Eirwen’s spirits.
They had laughed together every day she could remember, since that day she had
agreed to become her hand-maiden and now that Eirwen was at her most
melancholic, she missed her all the more.
“Come-on Bledri, let’s take a walk around the battlements
before we break our fast, it will blow some more cobwebs away!” She sighed and
Bledri stood happily, giving his mistress a little woof in response, his tail wagging.
They had just crested the tall
flight of steps leading up to the fighting platform of the northern
battlements, when a familiar young arwein approached her breathlessly and with
his prominent ears glowing, as he had clearly been tearing around this great
fortress looking for her.
“Your Highness Princess Eirwen!” He panted and Bledri licked
his familiar face, making the boy blush and begin to stutter.
“Spit it out Calder.” She smiled at the squire. Bledri did
his best to distract him as he gained his breath, pushing his cold wet nose up
one leg of his woollen shorts.
“Ddugesi Meleri of the Myrun Isles is here my lady, she asked
me to let you know.” Calder said between breaths and trying to wriggle from
Bledri’s discomforting greeting. Eirwen’s face lit-up at the news.
“Did she say anything else Calder?” She asked him, turning to
head back down the steep ramp of steps.
“Ddugesi Meleri is here to see King Ederus my Lady, but she
also asked that you join her after her meeting with His Royal Highness, in the
western croeso room.” He told her earnestly as he followed her down the stairs
with Bledri at his heels, standing easily as tall as the boy and with his tail
wagging happily.
Eirwen paced the flagstones of the large croeso chamber, not
daring to hope that Lady Meleri could persuade her father to allow her to begin
the new term at the Ynys Myrun College and end her confinement. Her father had
not told her she would or would not be returning to complete her
studies, and she had been too scared of his answer to ask him.
King Ederus had remained largely aloof since the
dressing-down he had given her on her return with Olwydd that day. Her father
had regaled her mercilessly in his private chambers and words like
‘irresponsible’, ‘rash’, ‘over-indulged’ and ‘immature’ had washed over her.
Olwydd Hîr had also been present during this berating and Eirwen would have
been mortified at his presence in the past, but they had become close friends
on their return to CaerCamelon that awful day. His huge presence had actually
bolstered her courage, as Olwydd had nodded encouragement to her periodically,
from where he leaned against the wall by the hearth in his easy manner. She had
felt the support of his great warrior spirit in the room with her and seen the
same support in his eyes, as she recounted honestly to her father every detail
of her overnight sojourn and the subsequent events which had occurred. She had
come to realise that one of the most feared warriors in all of Prydein had a
soft heart, at least in her regard. She knew fine-well too, that his love was
fatherly and honourable and she felt the same way about him, as if he was the
father she would have chosen that oppressive evening, given a choice. Saving
her life too had sparked that filial connection, it had for her anyway.
Eirwen continued pacing the doeskin floor rugs, now in deep
thought. An attentive arwein came in with raised eyebrows but she waved him
away before he could open his mouth, and he withdrew tactfully. It felt like
the hours of her life were being sucked from her soul as she waited impatiently
and yet she was still surprised when the honourable Ddugesi Meleri, her tutor
and mentor strode into the room. She appeared suddenly in the doorway with her
usual hand-maiden scuttling after her, like one of the harbour ducklings
chasing its mother.
“There you are darling!” Meleri smiled broadly, holding out
her right hand.
Eirwen took her bony hand and bowed deeply, kissing the solid
silver, star and crescent-moon ring of their order with due reverence, before
rising and hugging her matriarch warmly.
“I’ve never been more glad to see you!” Eirwen blurted and
Meleri broke the embrace, gripping her shoulders.
“Come child let us talk in my lodgings, as we have much to
discuss!” She smiled, taking Eirwen’s arm and leading her down the familiar
passage to the guest chambers, her walking cane tap-tapping on the flagstones. Out of the blue, Eirwen felt the
gloomy weight lift from her shoulders and a calming, joyous feeling surge
through her. Her steps became lighter, her chin came up and her hopes suddenly
flared brightly again.
Beside her, the Druiden’s eyes glittered with the effort.
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