Part 36 (2/2)

”No, of course not.”

He stiffened, his fists clenched at his side. ”She has won, Charis. First your father and now you.” He turned and stormed from the room.

Charis sat where she was, unmoved. I must confront her, she thought. I must go to her at once and... and what? What? Tell her Annubi has lost the sight and thinks she has won? Even if it is true, it would be just the sort of admission she would be looking for. No, I cannot let on that I know about this. I cannot let her know... but what do do I know? What has Annubi told me really? There might still be some other explanation. Perhaps it is as Lile said-he resents her and twists her words to discredit her. Perhaps there is some other reason. I know? What has Annubi told me really? There might still be some other explanation. Perhaps it is as Lile said-he resents her and twists her words to discredit her. Perhaps there is some other reason.

In any case, she thought, I said I would trust her. I cannot go to her now without dishonoring my own word. Poor Annubi, he will just have to suffer a little longer. I cannot help him, and there are more important matters at hand.

She returned to her work, sorting out the valuable and irreplaceable ma.n.u.scripts from the thousands in her mother's collection and placing them in the watertight wooden casket.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

For Taliesin the last of summer was pure enchantment. He rose with the sun to greet glorious golden days that pa.s.sed with regal, unhurried serenity. When he could spare time away from the work of the great hall, Elphin took Tal-iesin with him into the forest to hunt, down to the estuary to fish or dig for sh.e.l.lfish, or simply to sit on the rocky s.h.i.+ngle and watch the clouds and waves.

They rode together for hours, and Elphin described the monotonous work of riding the Wall, or talked of the necessity of keeping the Picti and Irish at arm's length and of the brief, hot clashes that occasionally ensued. He taught Taliesin about the Roman way of fighting and, more importantly, of governing the land. He recounted the stories his warriors told around the fire at night when they were far from home. He told Taliesin about men and their desires and ambitions; he told his son about his hopes for his people, the reasons for the decisions he had made.

Taliesin listened to it all and hid every word in his heart, for he knew the gift his father was trying to give him.

”You must be strong, Taliesin,” his father told him one day. They were riding through the woods, boar spears in hand, while up the trail the hounds sought out the animal's spoor. ”Strong as the cold iron in your hand.”

”Hafgan says the same thing. Strength and wisdom are the king's double-edged sword.”

”And he is right A king must be strong and wise for his people. But I fear the time is coming when wisdom will fail and strength alone must suffice.”

”The Dark Time?”

”Dark as ever a time was dark, and darker still.” He reigned the horse to a halt and lifted his eyes to the green lacework of branches above them. ”Listen, Taliesin. Listen to it, but do not be deceived. It is quiet here and peaceful.

Yet there is nothing peaceful about it. The world neither knows nor cares what happens in the lives of the men who walk upon her back. There is no peace, Taliesin. It is an illusion-an enchantment of the mind.

”The only peace you will ever know will be the rest won by your own strong arm.”

Taliesin wondered at his father's sudden gloomy turn but said nothing. A woodc.o.c.k nearby filled the wood with its cry, which under the melancholy mood cast by Elphin's words seemed mournful and lonely.

”It is coming, Taliesin. We cannot keep it back much longer.” He looked sadly at the boy in the saddle beside him. ”I wish I could make it different for you, my son.”

Taliesin nodded. ”Cormach told me about the Dark Time. But he said that in the midst of such darkness, the light is seen to s.h.i.+ne the brighter. And that there is one whose coming will blaze in the sky from east to west with such brilliance that his image will be forever burned into the land.”

Elphin nodded. ”That is something at least.” He glanced around the drowsy wood once more. ”Ah, but we have this day, Taliesin. And listen!” The baying of the hunting hounds had taken on a frenzied note. ”The dogs have found something. Let us ride!”

Elphin flicked the reins across his horse's neck and the animal, excited by the sound of the dogs, gathered its legs and leaped away. Taliesin kicked his mount's flanks and galloped after. There followed a reckless, breathless chase in which the dogs and horses and three wild pigs-two young sows and a huge, grizzled old boar-careened through the wood, cras.h.i.+ng through thick undergrowth, leaping over fallen trunks of trees, darting under low-hanging limbs, and all grunting, squealing, barking, snorting, laughing at the pleasure of the wild race.

The pigs led them far into the deep heart of the wood before disappearing. The dogs plunged into a quick-flowing stream where they lost the scent, and the riders bounded up a moment later to see the dogs whining at the water's edge, nosing the air and crying for their lost game. Elphin dropped his javelin, sticking it in the mud beside the stream. Taliesin did the same, and the two slid from their saddles and led the horses to the water, where the winded creatures drank noisily.

”A fine chase!” chuckled Elphin, his breath coming in quick gasps. ”Did you see that old tusker? Two wives has he-King of the Wood!”

”I am glad they escaped,” remarked Taliesin, his face flushed with excitement and exertion. Sweat soaked the hair across his forehead, curling it into tight ringlets.

”Oh, aye. Though the ride has made me hungry, and I can almost taste that fine meat aroast on the fire, I am happy to see them go. We will chase them again one day.”

Elphin stretched himself upon a shady, moss-covered rock and closed his eyes. Taliesin settled beside him and was just leaning back when he caught a gleam out of the corner of his eye.

A moment later Elphin heard a splash and jerked himself upright. Taliesin was halfway across the stream and heading toward the opposite bank, crying, ”I see it! Hurry!” The dogs whimpered and stood with lowered heads and drooping tails at the edge of the water.

”Taliesin! Wait!” Elphin called. He s.n.a.t.c.hed up his spear and plunged after the boy. ”Wait, son!” He reached the far bank just in time to see his son dive into an elder thicket and vanish.

”Hurry!” Taliesin's voice sounded far away. ”I see it!”

Elphin listened and heard the boy cras.h.i.+ng through the undergrowth and a second later... silence. He then began the tedious task of tracking the boy through the woods.

He found Taliesin an hour later, sitting on a lichen-covered slab of stone in a circular, oak-lined clearing, his expression blank, hands limp in his lap. ”Are you all right, son?” Elphin's quiet question echoed in the place.

”I saw it,” replied Taliesin, his voice hoa.r.s.e with exhaustion. ”It led me here.”

”What did you see?”

”A stag. And it led me here.”

”A stag? Are you sure?”

”A white white stag,” said Taliesin, his eyes gleaming in the dimness of the clearing like two dark stars. ”As white as Cader Idris' crown... And his antlers! He had great spreading antlers as red as your Roman cloak and his tail was red.” He peered at his father doubtfully. ”Did you see it?” stag,” said Taliesin, his eyes gleaming in the dimness of the clearing like two dark stars. ”As white as Cader Idris' crown... And his antlers! He had great spreading antlers as red as your Roman cloak and his tail was red.” He peered at his father doubtfully. ”Did you see it?”

Elphin shook his head slowly. ”I did not. You were too fast for me.” He looked around the clearing. It was bounded on all sides by stout oaks whose tough, gnarled branches spoke of an age beyond reckoning. A slight depression in the ground around the perimeter of of the clearing indicated the remains of an ancient ditch. The stone on which Taliesin sat had once stood in the center of the enclosed circle. Although the overarching branches allowed a disk of sky to show pale and blue above, very little light entered the ring. ”The stag led you here?” the clearing indicated the remains of an ancient ditch. The stone on which Taliesin sat had once stood in the center of the enclosed circle. Although the overarching branches allowed a disk of sky to show pale and blue above, very little light entered the ring. ”The stag led you here?”

Taliesin nodded. ”And there is where I saw the man,” he said, pointing to a gap where the ditch-ring opened into the wood. ”The Black Man.”

”bu saw him?” Elphin regarded his son closely. ”What did he look like?”

”He was tall, very tall,” replied Taliesin, closing his eyes to help him remember clearly, ”and thick-muscled; his legs were like stumps and his arms like oak limbs. He was covered by black hair, thick stuff, with twigs and bits of leaf clinging to him all over. His face was painted with white clay, except around his eyes which were black as well-pits. His hair was limed and pushed into a crest with small branches worked through it and a leather cap tied to his head with antlers on it. He carried an antlered staff in one hand and with the other held a young pig under his arm. And there was a wolf too, enormous, with yellow eyes. It watched me from beyond the circle of oaks and did not enter the ring.”

”The Lord of the Beasts,” whispered Elphin. ”Cemunnos!”

”Cernunnos,” confirmed Taliesin. ” 'I am the Horned One,' he told me.”

”Did he say anything else?”

”He said, 'Lift what is fallen.' That is all.”

”Lift what is fallen? Nothing else?”

”What does it mean?” Taliesin wondered.

Elphin looked at the stone on which the boy sat. ”The standing stone has fallen.”

Taliesin ran his hands over the stone. ”How will we raise it?”

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