Exiles in Time (The After Cilmeri Series) (39 page)

“
You must save Cadwaladr,”
she said, “and leave Aberffraw with him.”

“
Me?” Rhiann said. “I’ve
been struggling with how it might be possible since they brought
him in, but I’m afraid it isn’t.”

“
You have no future here,”
Alcfrith said, ignoring Rhiann’s protest. “You’ve turned down all
the men your father has brought for you to marry.”

“
I couldn’t marry any of
them,” Rhiann said. “They were all his allies. Every last one was
old and evil. Did you see the teeth on Meurig of
Rhiannt?”

Alcfrith shook her head. “Marriage
could have been a way out of here for you. As it is, it’s too late.
If you stay here, your father will force you to marry Peada, my
brother’s son. He’s not a bad man, but no Christian.”

“
I’ve already told father I
won’t marry Peada,” Rhiann said. “The priest won’t let Father force
me into it.”

“
Peada is the ruler of
Middle Anglia and King Penda’s son. When Peada comes for you, you
will have no choice,” Alcfrith said. “He does not listen to
priests.”

Rhiann’s stomach sank into her boots.
All along she’d feared exactly that, even if she’d not admitted it
to herself and had managed to defy her father up until now. Cadfael
had known it too, undoubtedly. He’d taken the opportunity to punish
Rhiann with public disgrace for her disobedience, but Rhiann had
felt throughout it all that he’d been laughing at her, sure in his
power over her future.

Every man he’d brought to Aberffraw to
seek Rhiann’s hand had been Welsh, and thus subject to the
restrictions of the Church. The Saxons, on the other hand, were
pagans, bowing only to their gods and with no respect for the gods
of others. They’d sacked churches and killed monks countless times.
Of course, Cadfael’s men would have done the same to them, if
they’d had churches.

The Welsh gods, the
sidhe
, were entirely
different from the Saxon gods, with familiar names that didn’t
grate on one’s ears: Arianrhod and Gwydion, children of Dôn; Llyr,
god of the sea; Arawn, Lord of Annwn, the Underworld. Rhiann
suspected that many of her father’s men, under their Christian
guise, still believed in the old gods, keeping them close but
hidden like a comfortable and faded shirt worn beneath a new and
glossy coat of mail. Since the coming of the Christ, the
sidhe
had hidden
themselves, no longer walking freely among their people. With each
passing year, they retreated further into the mists and shadows of
the high valleys and mountains.

“
I hadn’t realized that my
time was so short,” Rhiann said. “Father hasn’t said anything to me
about it.” Her father claimed to be a Christian, but an alliance
with a Saxon king was worth more to him than his religion. Or
her.

“
Why would he?” Alcfrith
said. “You are a woman and your value is found in what he can sell
you for, even at twenty and long past the point at which you should
have married. You are his to do with as he pleases.” She turned her
back on Rhiann, her head bowed. “Just as I am.”

Uncertain, Rhiann reached out a
tentative hand and rested it on Alcfrith’s shoulder. Alcfrith took
Rhiann’s hand in hers, turned back, and managed a
half-smile.

“
I may not be able to save
myself,” she said, “but I will not stand by to see either Cadwaladr
or you lose your life, or your soul, at Cadfael’s
hands.”

“
I don’t know what to say.”
Rhiann was stunned at Alcfrith’s frankness. “You’ve spoken more to
me in these few moments than in my entire life.”

“
I have clothes for you.”
Alcfrith turned abruptly from Rhiann. She walked to a chest in the
corner of the chamber and opened it. Inside were male
garments—breeches, jersey and cloak—which Alcfrith brought out one
by one and piled into Rhiann’s arms.

“
Why are you doing this?”
Rhiann said.

“
I’ve never been a mother
to you.” Alcfrith closed the lid to the chest and faced Rhiann
again. “Neither to you nor to my son.”

“
I never
expected—”

“
Well you should have!”
Alcfrith said.

Startled, Rhiann took a step
back.

“
All your life until now
you’ve held yourself cheaply, expecting nothing and receiving
nothing,” Alcfrith said. “I treated you no differently than your
father did. I just couldn’t bear . . .” She paused.

“
Bear what?”

Alcfrith took a deep breath and let it
out. “You reminded me so much of Cadwaladr, even as an infant: so
stubborn, so fiery, and yet so soft and warm in my arms. I couldn’t
bear to hold you. As you grew—as you crawled and walked and
talked—all I could see in you was my lost son.”

“
You can see him now,”
Rhiann said. “He’s right next door.”

“
No.” Alcfrith shook her
head. “I have no claim on him. He owes me nothing and I will not
ask anything from him because he’d give it.”

Alcfrith was right. Rhiann had spoken
with Cade for the first time that evening and yet she already knew
him well enough to know that what Alcfrith said was true. “Father’s
not going to kill Cadwaladr,” Rhiann said, suddenly
sure.

Alcfrith nodded. “I have a plan. God
willing, you will take him out of here and never see me again. If
Cadfael catches you, I will not be able to save either one of
you.”

“
I understand,” Rhiann
said.

“
You don’t have much
time,
cariad
.”

Rhiann stared at
her.
Loved one
,
Alcfrith had called her, for the first time in her life. Alcfrith
put a hand on each of Rhiann’s shoulders, pulled her into her arms
for a brief hug, and then stepped back in order to look deep into
Rhiann’s eyes.

“
There is much you need to
do,” Alcfrith said.

Sweet Mary, Mother of
Christ. Do I dare?

Yet Rhiann did exactly as Alcfrith
asked.

______________________

The Last Pendragon
is available anywhere books are sold.

www.sarahwoodbury.com