King Cobhthach sat in his reading chair, near the main window looking out to the principle barbican. Across the room, in front of a small loom, his daughter Íde working on a tapestry. She looked up, her sharp green eyes focusing on Li. The caretaker genuflected to the Princess and then the King. Casually, Cobhthach removed his half-moon spectacles. As he started to twirl them in the air, he motioned Li forward.
“I suppose you have come because of my father.” the King spoke with a tired voice.
“Yes, Sire.” Li said with an even tone. “He insists on seeing his son ...”
“Oh, for pity sake! Why are you wasting my time on something he has done many times before?” He meant for his voice to come out as a growl, but it was too high-pitched.
“This is different, Sire. He says he must see his son to prevent a great evil from coming to the land. For a moment, it seemed as if the madness was gone.”
“Child, he has had moments before where he seemed lucid. Yet they do not make sense.” Cobhthach groaned. “A turn ago he spoke about talking with Inwö. He seemed lucid yet no one had come to visit. Inwö may be immortal yet he cannot appear and disappear like a pixie.”
Li stared at the regent, struggling with her emotions. At times she wondered if Cobhthach cared about his father. She knew the two had a strained relationship but Cobhthach’s lack of concern perplexed her. Sédanta was his father; he was not a burden.
Sédanta might have been driven to madness but he was not an empty husk. He was not a doddering fool, sitting blankly in a chair. Often the old King had talked to her and at times, shown great kindness. It had strengthened the bond between them. What did Cobhthach know of his father, leaving him shut away in one of the main towers?
“Why did he have to look into that accursed mirror?” Cobhthach lamented. Íde stopped her weaving.
“The mirror is not dangerous,” the Princess chided gently. “Llacheu would never have created something dangerous. The only danger is what you bring with you.”
“I know the admonition!” Cobhthach rolled his eyes. “But I see no use to dabble with it. I should have destroyed it.”
“It has aided many in the House, Father. With it, Aedd was able to bring the peace that we still have.”
“But for how long? If some of the proposals in the Reachtas are adopted, it could lead to anarchy.”
Li stood, silently, watching the father and daughter talking, ignoring her presence. All she could so was wait for the King to finish his train of thought.
“Father, I believe you are too pessimistic.” There was a sparkle in the Princess’s eyes. “I have spent time with some of the members and I do not believe it is as dire as you suspect.”
Cobhthach shook his head, slowly. “You are but young. The treacherous maze of politics is new to you. In a few cycles, you will sense the burden which is constantly haunting me.”
“Mayhap I will never know. A republic has no need for a Queen.”
“Hold your tongue!” Anger flushed his cheeks and voice. “How can you be so flippant about this?”
A sweet smile came to the Princess’s face. “I am just having some fun, Father.”
“There is nothing funny about what is transpiring in the Reachtas.” Impatiently, Cobhthach rose. He carelessly dropped the slender tome he was reading to his chair then placed the reading glasses on a small table. He glanced at an ancient water clock; they had an hour before dinner.
“I will go see my father.”
“Do you wish me to join you, Father?”
“No. Continue your work.” His words to his daughter had a sliver of anger. Cobhthach focused on Li. “You will come with me.”
Li’s heart sank. She knew the King only wanted her to join him in case Sédanta became agitated. Her job would be to stay to calm him down. That meant she would not be able to meet her friends at their local place. The King saw her reaction.
“Let us hope this will not take long,” Cobhthach was less brusque. As he left the sitting room, the guard stood stiffer.
“Have the court druid summoned to my father’s room.” The King ordered curtly. The guard nodded in acknowledgement. Before he turned to leave, Li thought he flashed her a quick glance.
The cute guard looked but twenty, with his short brown, curly hair, face round and still with the flesh of youth. A slight blush came to her face as they went down the stairs. Her thoughts of the guard came to an abrupt halt as the King came to a sudden stop in the Long Room. He noticed the state of the dining table.
“Why is the table not yet prepared?” His bellow came out more as a high-pitched scream. Li thought she heard a few giggles from the back room. The King glared about one more time before continuing to his father’s room.
While Li followed the King through the corridors of the castle, her mind went back to the discussion between the King and the Princess. Rumours were flying furiously about the court. Li had heard that a new group in the Reachtas were actively pressing republican reforms. There were rumblings that they wished to replace the King with some forum of elected officials.
Some weeks ago, over a flagon, Buino tried to explain to the group what was happening. The small group were trying to push for a fundamental reform of the Bunreacht, the basis of all laws and rights in Llangeinwen. Buino had told them the radicals had enlisted the help of two Brehons to aid their purpose.
He told them they were researching the original documents of Suíbhné and Myrddin that formed the Bunreacht. They also were investigating the subsequent amendments. This was an effort to bolster their call for reform. Much of what Buino spoke of was of little interest to Li; yet she saw that the druids of the Order, the senior Brehons and court advisors were in a frenzy.
All the bustle made no sense to her. She was happy as were her friends and family. The system may not be perfect but what is? People were prospering. They could advance if they wanted to. Why change something most people were satisfied with? It seemed to Li it was just a rabble of malcontents who wished to stir things up. Most likely just disgruntled nobles.
As they reached the bottom of the spiral stairs, Li heard heavy footfalls coming toward them. Blaí ap Asal arrived, huffing, at a loss of words. Impatiently, the King waited for the court druid to gain his composure.
“You summoned me, Sire?” he managed.
“It seems my father now wishes to see my imaginary brother.”
“I see.” Blaí pursed his lips. Li looked away from the druid; she could not stand the simpering man. The druid was short and stocky. His pale skin always looked wet and sickly. His short black hair invariably had a greasy sheen to it. His black eyes were as looking into a dark pit and they constantly flicked about. He never seemed to be able to look a person straight in the eyes.
“He wished to see him?” The druid’s voice was cold.
Cobhthach motioned to Li. Reluctantly she looked to the druid who furiously glanced back and forth between her and the King, wringing his hands.
“The king said to me that he needed to see his son to stop an evil from coming about.”
“I see.” Blaí brushed her aside. She bit the side of her lip to control the anger welling in her. “Sire, this is not the first time he has warned of trouble. This seems nothing new.”
“This is different,” Li insisted.
Blaí’s head jerked suddenly; he looked directly at her. “Young one, remember your place!”
The King cleared his throat. The druid’s head violently snapped to him.
“Let her speak. Of all of us, she is the most qualified to speak of his moods. And I believe knows him best.”
Li was stunned by the King’s admission. He looked at her kindly.
“I am not unfeeling, child. Yet my father is but one of many burdens I must carry. Yet I am pleased he has a caretaker like you.” The King eyed Blaí. “And druid, you should remember your place. A word from me to Taliesin and you will be a travelling journeyman back in the countryside.”
The druid did not respond but cast a baleful eye at Li.
“Has my father ever talked of such things before?”
“Not with such force, Sire.” Li admitted. “He never before spoke of dark clouds forming over Dún Suíbhné. Or of a terrible darkness coming.”
Blaí snorted in scorn but held his tongue. Li felt her ire growing; she was emboldened by what the King had said.
“The difference was the way he spoke. It was personal. He feared for his son.”
“What did he say?”
Li tried to sort what had happened. “He said that his son would be sublimed. No, no. Sub ... ah .. sub ...”
“Subjected?” Cobhthach offered.
“Subsumed,” Li remembered, suddenly. “He feels his son is in peril because he will be subsumed by this great evil.”
“And he wished to stop this?”
“Yes, yes. He wanted to stop some sort of meeting. He said his son is but a child.”
“He does not have another son,” Blaí whined in frustration. “We found no evidence of a wife or son. They are but part of his madness.”
“And you know this for a fact?” Li challenged.
“We questioned many in and about Argshire. The king was itinerant, which made him hard to find.”
“He speaks often of a small cottage with rose bushes. It had dead ivy going up the side of the cottage. In the back ...”
“All products of his delusions.” Blaí snapped. For some reason, he looked at the tips of Li’s black shoes. “No one in the Order could find the king because he never stayed in one area for very long. Else someone would have told us.”
“You mean if anyone was willing to talk to your people.”
“What are you suggesting?”
Li tried to control the swelling fury. Save Aífe, the smug and arrogant attitude of the druids in the court alienated them from all but themselves. She was tired of being belittled.
“No one out in the countryside would talk to you or your people ...”
“They have no choice,” Blaí grew annoyed.
“And what would you do? We don’t have to speak to you if we don’t wish to. And there is nothing you can do about it.”
Li looked to the King. “People who live in the country stand by each other. They are wary of outsiders. If someone suddenly appears and starts asking questions, they would be cautious of what they say. Anyone who knew your father might protect him and say naught.”
“The druids of the Order are highly respected by all across Llangeinwen!” Blaí protested.
“They may have, once.” Her growing ardour surprised Li. “There are many who now distrust anyone wearing the four-leafed emblem. There are some who question whether you serve the King or yourselves.”
“That is almost paramount to sedition!” Some colour crept into the druid’s face. His strong reaction startled Li.
“Sedition?” The King was mildly amused. “Curious use of words, druid. Correct me if I am wrong, but isn’t sedition an act against the Crown?”
“Yes ... yes ... but she dares question our loyalty. That is beyond appropriate.”
Cobhthach chuckled. “Well, I happen to agree with this young maiden. Mayhap you should go out about my people. You may find what she speaks of is more reality than you believe. Or you should speak to one of your own. One of your journeymen, Aífe might be able to enlighten you.” Before Blaí could respond, Cobhthach stopped him with a look.
“But this debate can wait for another time. I am more concerned with the new wrinkle of my father’s madness. Let us see him and then assess the situation.”
Blaí glowered but held his tongue. Quickly the King rose up the stairs, Li following him. Slowly, Blaí walked up the stone stairs. As they approached the door, the King reached into the folds of his ochre robe. He pulled out a silver key similar to Li’s and ran it along the doorjamb to open the door.
As they entered the room, Li saw Sédanta still standing at the window. The sound of the opening door caught his attention. As he turned around, there was a puzzle look, seeing Cobhthach. When he saw Li, behind the King, his face lit up.
“Have you come back to see my birds?”
It surprised Li to see the King step aside and motion for her to move forward. For a moment, she stood paralysed, not knowing what to do. But some of the ardour still warmed her; something for her to draw on. Li took a deep breath as she stepped forward.
“I brought some people who may be able to help you.”
“Help me?” The old man stared at Li, mystified.
She pointed to the two men behind her. “This is King Cobhthach and the court druid, Blaí.”
“Why do you think they can help me?”
“You were speaking of your son. And your wife.”
“I was?” The puzzled look changed slightly as a faint mischievous glint came to his eyes. “Ah, you are trying to trick me, aren’t you my dear? I don’t remember speaking of them.”
The old King wagged his index finger at his caretaker. After a perfunctory glance at the King and court druid, he gave Li a smile and touched the side of his nose.
“Yes you did,” Li grew stern. “You feared for his life, Sire. I’m trying to help.”
Sédanta became pensive. He brought his index finger to his pursed lips.
“This is a waste of time,” Li heard Blaí mutter softly. It wasn’t soft enough for Sédanta heeded him.
“You have something to say?” Li noticed a change in the old man. He cocked an eyebrow at the druid.
“No, Sire.” Blaí rumbled.
“I see you wear one of the marks of Anáil.” He pointed to the small, four-leaved emblem embossed on the breast of the druid’s black robes.
“It is the only mark of Anáil.” The words were spat out.
“Really?” It seemed to Li that Sédanta was not as hunched as before. His voice sounded stronger. The incessant shaking that haunted him over the past cycle subsided.
“Dalldav would not agree,” Sédanta continued in a small voice as he focused on the druid. A strangled gasp came from Blaí. Li stared at the old king, confounded by the change. His voice became clear, his eyes sharp. A faint royal aura radiated about him.
“You know not what you talk about,” the druid’s voice cracked as he looked toward Cobhthach. “This is lunacy. Sire, we will gain nothing from this. It is the madness speaking. He speaks but nonsense. It may be best if he rests.”
“Father?” A plaintive hopefulness sounded in Cobhthach’s question. He ignored Blaí.
The old main squinted, focusing on Cobhthach. After a moment of perusal, Sédanta shook his head. “Who are you?”
Cobhthach was crestfallen. “I am your son. Cobhthach ap Sédanta. Don’t you remember? You called me Cobh when I was but a lad.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Sédanta was emphatic. “I don’t remember you. And you are too old. My son is named Gwri.”
Li was stunned. This was the first time she had heard a name mentioned. Blaí let out a snort; Li knew what he was thinking. Gwri was a very common name in the countryside. The name did not confirm or deny if he really existed.
“And this Gwri is in danger?” Li marked the sneering in the druid’s voice. But the question caused Sédanta to shiver.
“You are mocking me, druid?” The steely edge in his voice caught Li by surprise. She was not looking at the man she had taken care of for so long. Even Cobhthach seemed shocked.
“No,” the druid’s voice was smooth like oil on water. “But you speak of imaginary things. You have no son named Gwri. You were ...”
“Be silent!” Sédanta commanded. He looked at Li, tenderly. “You, I remember. My only constant in the clouds that fog my mind.”
The old King stepped forward and gently placed his hand on her cheek. A shimmer of love and regret filled his dark eyes.
“To have endured me for so long must have been a heavy task.”
“It wasn’t, Sire.” Li stammered.
“And in time, your loyalty will be rewarded. I’ve seen it.”
Li heard a rumble from behind her but a look from Sédanta silenced it.
“And I’ve seen you too, druid.” Sédanta shook his head, changing his focus. “Yet the images are still fragmented. Dry rot like you will be swept away once the tide comes in.”
“I am the court druid! I am not just some journeyman.”
“You are an officious, pompous dolt!” Sédanta’s eyes flashed. “You are an embarrassment to Inwö’s vision for those in Anáil.”
As Blaí sputtered, Li looked to Cobhthach. The King seemed brokenhearted. She could see in his body and eyes the craving to be recognized.
“You know naught of Inwö,” Blaí growled. “I suppose he said so during one of his visits.”
“What if he did?” Sédanta challenged.
“It is as I said, Sire.” The druid focused on the King. “This is a waste of time.”
“You would think so,” Sédanta snorted. With a sigh, he walked back to his window. “But it is now becoming clear. So clear.”
With a burst, Cobhthach rushed forward. “What is becoming clear?”
“What I saw in the mirror. My part of this weave that could bring destruction to what we know.”
“You are speaking in riddles. If you know the future, we can stop what you fear. We can have this Gwri brought here. We can keep him safe.”
Slowly, the old man shook his head. “It is too late, I fear. Be it you or the drones of the Order, no one can find him. I made sure of that. They will not talk to you.”
The faint spark of ardour in Li ignited like a bonfire. “I can go,” she offered in a small voice.
“That I cannot ask of you.” Sédanta turned around. “Save the trails out there are treacherous, he will be out there. He will stop you.”
“Who?”
Sédanta looked at Blaí. “Mind, body and spirit. Three leaves, three paths. One hunger.”
“Do not speak of that!” The druid’s words came out violently.
“Ah, the fear,” Sédanta chuckled. “Does the Blood and Stone make your blood freeze? Or the name Dalldav?”
“They are not here. They will never be here! They only haunt Larnö.” Blaí came forward, slamming into Li. “This is the madness speaking. Dalldav is dead! He does not exist any more.”
“Are you so sure?”
“I have heard enough.” The breeze rippled through the room as Blaí glared at the old King. A fresh fragrance replaced the sharp salt scent. The wind had shifted and now blew over the river Tywi.
“What do you know of madness? Have you pierced the veils of the future to see your own death? To see the potential outcome of your actions? To see the death and destruction I may have wrought because of love?”
Blaí came to a halt an hand’s length away from Sédanta. “You say you have seen your own death? You must be mad to be so calm with such a memory.”
“We all die,” Sédanta shrugged. “For me, it will be this day.”
“Sire, don’t speak that way!” Li cried.
“Father, you are wrong.” Cobhthach found his voice. “The madness still grips you.”
“No, my vision grows clearer by the moment.” Sédanta looked at Blaí. “The dice have been cast. The weave has started. Only a few can stop the threads. And you are not one of them.”
“But I can help, Sire,” Li strained to gain control.
Sédanta shook his head. “You do not understand his ways. He would come upon you and you would not know it. Only I know how to avoid him. Yet it is too late. I’ve been caged too long.”
Sédanta’s shoulders slumped in resignation. He turned back to look out the window. “If I had been more cautious in Tuaim Inbhir, this would have been prevented. Now the rose bushes are dead; the cottage gathering dust.
“And Gwri will meet the legacy of Dalldav and be one of his instruments. The shards are coming together. The cycle is about to begin. The dark clouds are gathering.”
The druid grabbed at the old King’s shoulder, trying to turn him around.
“Dalldav is dead. His legacy gnaws in a small enclave in Larnö.”
Sédanta tried to brush the druid’s hand away. Cobhthach rushed forward to help his father. A wild look filled Blaí’s face. The King pushed the druid away from Sédanta. The druid’s and old King’s eyes stayed locked in a contest of wills.
“Do you feel fear, druid? This is just the beginning.”
Blaí’s left hand spasmed into a fist. He could not speak; Li saw the rage in his eyes and body.
“Yet you will not see any of this. For what I saw is seventeen cycles hence. It is then my son will start the actions that Dalldav so wished to complete.”
The sudden rush forward of the druid caught both Kings by surprise. Blaí grabbed the front of Sédanta’s gray shirt. Cobhthach tried to push the druid away from his father, while Sédanta attempted to step back. Li watched impotently as the men struggled with each other.
Cobhthach brought an opened hand up against Blaí’s chin. The sudden violence appalled the druid. He released the old regent. Sédanta stumbled backward. In a blink of an eye, Li saw Sédanta falling against the window sill. Wildly, he grasped at the window frame but could not get a firm grip. With a single cry, the old King fell from the window.
The three stood frozen, their focus the open window. Suddenly the air filled with screams of horror, punctuated by a dull thud. Li let out a wail as she rushed to the other window. Sédanta’s body lay like a broken straw doll on the flagstones of the courtyard. A cry of grief from Cobhthach faintly pierced Li’s mind.
Li sensed the King rushing out of the room. She stood at the window, her body trembling. She felt all her energy slipping. The faint ardour she had sputtered like a dying flame. She needed to hold onto the window frame to support herself. Little black spots danced in her vision.
She tried to clear her mind but grief froze her. Far below her, she saw blood forming around Sédanta’s body. Li sagged against the stone wall; she wanted to slide to the floor and cry. Yet she felt something tug at her. She had to go down to Sédanta.
With a burst of energy, Li bolted from the room. She took the stairs, two at a time. She had to grab the bannister a few times to stop herself from faltering on the stairs. At the ground level, she ran to the small door leading to the courtyard.
A crowd started to form around the old King’s body. Without consideration, Li pushed through the assembled people. She ignored the stares and mumbles. When she reached the centre, she saw Cobhthach crouched beside Sédanta’s body, sobbing. The court druid stood by them, shouting about orders.
To Li’s surprise, the old King’s chest rose and fell, albeit shallow. As Li came to the King’s side, Sédanta’s eyes slowly opened. He looked at his son and Li.
“What has been wrought?” Sédanta’s was clear. “Forgive me, son. I never wished to curse you.”
“Stay your words,” Cobhthach said softly. “The physicians will be here shortly.”
“No, my time has come.”
“Don’t speak like that.”
Slowly, Sédanta brought a shaking hand to Cobhthach’s chest. He tried to grasp his robe but did not have the strength.
“Listen.” His voice grew ragged. “Listen to me closely. Gwri is the cause but not the effect. Look to the past. Look to Dalldav. He is the key.”
“But where is he? Where can he be found?”
“I would not know.” The words came out as a mere whisper. “They would have left after I was discovered. There is naught that you can do.”
There was a cough of blood as Sédanta focused on Li. “Look to the blue bird. He will guide you. Lead you to where you need to go.”
A faint glaze came to Sédanta’s eyes as he looked to the sky. “He will come as a friend and mentor. But he is just a mere shadow of what he can be. That is what Gwri will not see. The ancient will rise again.”
His last breath came out, rattled. Sédanta’s eyes lost their light. Cobhthach stared at his father, tears streaming down his cheeks. Li looked about her, numb. As the death rattle faded to silence, Cobhthach threw his head back, letting out a wail.
Uncontrollable sobs racked Li. The lifeless eyes looked up into the sky; seeing nothing. Sédanta was dead. Li slumped to her knees, tears pouring from her eyes and pain tearing at her heart. It took her a moment to notice Blaí coming up to the King. He spoke but she could not hear his words; thunder roared in her head.
Through her glazed vision, she saw Blaí trying to aid the King. With a flash of fury, Cobhthach shook the druid away. A person wearing a pale brown robe came forth to help the King. As he rose, Li noticed a smear of blood on his robes, just above his heart.
Someone slowly led the King away, leaving Li kneeling beside Sédanta. She overheard Blaí shouting to the onlookers, but did not focus on his words. The people about her started to move away. Beside the old regent, a dampness crept about her knees - Sédanta’s blood. A numbness prickled her body.
The King now had peace but at what cost? Finally, he as free of the madness that had strickened him for cycles. He was free but were they? And what of Gwri? Thoughts tumbled through her mind, causing a chaotic flurry of confusion. There was too much to consider, to focus on.
As the tears dried, Li gently put out her hand. She touched Sédanta’s eyelids and drew them closed. For the last time, she stayed alone with Sédanta. Save for her, the once-regal King laid abandoned in a pool of blood. At a loss, she did not know what to do.
Her heart jumped when, from the corner of her eye, she saw a sudden movement and heard a faint fluttering in the air. Frantically, Li looked about, seeing nothing at first. Then, high above her, a black object, silhouetted by the setting sun, drifted down. As it grew closer, she reached out to take it but the single blue feather slipped through her crimson fingers and landed in the thickening blood.
Li’s head lurched about, looking for the source of the feather. There were no birds in the trees or sky. She was alone in the courtyard with the old King. Sédanta’s last words to her thundered in her head.
With a shaking hand, Li reached down to pick up the blue feather, small drops of blood dripping from its edges. The glimmer of ardour in her grew. Li could feel her heart pumping faster. She knew she had to do something. But what, she did not know. Yet.
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