Read Caradoc of the North Wind Online
Authors: Allan Frewin Jones
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic
Caradoc of the North Wind (33 page)
‘Drustan would like you to stay here,’ Meredith said. ‘Will you stay?’
‘I don’t think so.’
Meredith bit her lip, her hand slipping from her cloak to touch Branwen’s arm. ‘Stay,’ she said. ‘If not for our sakes, then for your own. The gods you worship will destroy you, Branwen, I am sure of it.’
‘I do not
worship
them,’ Branwen murmured. ‘And do you forget how you were saved by one of those gods?’
‘No, I don’t forget,’ Meredith replied. ‘But fire is a friend when tamed and a great foe when set loose. You do not control these powers, Branwen, and I fear you will be burned to death by them.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Branwen.
‘The Saxon menace is gone,’ Meredith persisted. ‘Be at peace now with us. What more could the Old Powers ask of you?’
Branwen thought of the white shield and the silvery sword that lay together on her bed in the long house of the Gwyn Braw. She said nothing.
Meredith frowned. ‘I know you follow a great destiny, Branwen,’ she said. ‘But if you cannot stay, where will it take you next? Do you know?’
‘I’m waiting,’ Branwen said quietly.
‘Waiting? Waiting for what?’
A bleak smile curled Branwen’s lips. ‘For a sign,’ she said. ‘Rhodri is sure it will come soon. He has told me as much.’
‘What sign?’
‘The young bear,’ whispered Branwen. ‘I’m waiting to follow the young bear.’
It was in the deep dark of the night before the wedding day of King Drustan and Princess Meredith that Branwen was awoken by a hand on her shoulder.
Rhodri leaned over her, a rushlight illuminating his face. ‘Come,’ he said softly. ‘I have something to show you. Bring your sword and shield.’
She dressed in warm clothes, slinging the shield over her shoulder and sliding the glowing sword into her belt. Following Rhodri, she studied for a moment each of her sleeping companions. Fearless Dera with her mass of black hair half covering her face. Banon, lying on her front with her long limbs sprawling and her red hair glowing like fire. Iwan. He looked so innocent, lying there asleep. Too handsome for his own good. Too clever. And Aberfa, lying on her back, snoring like a boar. She loved them all.
She slipped silently out the door in Rhodri’s wake.
The moon was full and round in the sky, so bright that it cast shadows on the ground. Rhodri took her to the southern ramparts, putting his arm around her shoulders and pointing over the walls of the citadel.
‘What do you see?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ she said, shivering a little in the chill. ‘Shadows, that’s all.’
‘Look more closely.’
Now she saw it. A small dark shape that she had taken to be no more than a boulder, some fifty or sixty paces from the walls, close by a bend in the River Hefren. She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. The shape moved, lifting a blunt head, the long snout turning from side to side. Then it rose clumsily on to its haunches and she knew for certain that it was a young bear.
A sudden sense of fear and loss pierced her. She gripped Rhodri’s hand. ‘Must I?’ she asked, her voice thick with misery. ‘Do I have no choice?’
‘You always have a choice, Branwen,’ Rhodri replied.
‘Then I choose to throw this shield and this sword into the river,’ she said bitterly. ‘I choose to go north. I choose to return to Garth Milain and be with my mother. There! It is done – I have made my choice.’
Rhodri nodded. ‘Very well,’ he said.
She frowned at him. ‘As easily as that?’
‘I am not your keeper, Branwen. I will guide you if you wish it, and I will stand aside if not.’
‘Then stand aside! I’m going back to bed, and tomorrow I will attend the wedding of the king, and when that is done I will take Terrwyn and ride north and be free of destiny for ever.’
Rhodri said nothing.
‘This is no jest, my friend!’ she insisted. ‘I am done with hardship and strife.’ She turned from the walls and walked steadily away from him.
After a few paces, she halted and turned back. ‘What will you do?’ she called softly.
‘I don’t know.’ His eyes seemed very large as she looked into his face. ‘You still have the sword and shield, Branwen. Weren’t you going to throw them into the river?’
She ran back to him and stood quivering in front of him. ‘I hate this!’ she cried.
‘I know.’
‘I want to go home.’
‘Who’s to say you won’t?’ Rhodri asked gently.
‘But first I must follow my destiny, is that it?’
‘If you choose.’
She frowned at him, holding back her anger. ‘Who is this boy?’ she asked. ‘This other Chosen One? Is he like me? Does
he
have a choice?’
‘The same choice given to you,’ said Rhodri. ‘Except that your choices will touch him, whether he wills it or not.’ He nodded at the sword glimmering in her belt. ‘This belongs to him, Branwen.’
‘And if I do not give it to him?’
‘No one is told what would have happened at the end of a path not taken,’ said Rhodri.
‘But will he do great things if I give him the sword?’
‘Yes. You both will.’
‘And will he be able to do them if not?’
Rhodri didn’t answer.
‘Then I have the same choice as I have always had,’ said Branwen. ‘The choice between doing good and doing as I would wish.’
‘We all must make that choice,’ said Rhodri.
She rested her hand on the sword hilt. It felt warm under her fingers. She had noticed that about it before – even in the worst cold, the silvery sword was always warm.
‘Will you come with me?’ she asked.
‘If you wish it.’
‘The others deserve to be spared this quest,’ she said. ‘They would come willingly if I asked, and I think they might follow me even if I told them to stay behind.’
‘Terrwyn and another horse are saddled and ready,’ said Rhodri.
She arched an eyebrow. ‘Are they, indeed? Am I so predictable then, Rhodri?’
‘The moon is high and there are no gates to bar our exit from Pengwern,’ Rhodri said. ‘The young bear is waiting. If you wish it, we can leave now.’
‘The two of us together alone as it was in the beginning?’ said Branwen.
‘The two of us together alone.’
‘Shall I ever see any of them again?’ she asked with a deep pang of sadness and loss. ‘Shall I ever see Iwan again?’
‘I cannot say.’
Branwen linked her arm with his as they turned and walked away from the walls. ‘I hope I shall see him again,’ she said, barely above a whisper. ‘There is something I need to tell him – something I want him to know.’
Silent as ghosts, the two friends slipped into the stable and led their horses out across the deserted courtyards of Pengwern. They took the path down from the ramparts and into the bailey where the half-rebuilt gate towers stood stark and white under the moon.
Branwen ached with the weight of her destiny. To have done so much only to be given another task seemed cruel beyond belief. And to know that she was leaving Iwan to awake and find her gone was perhaps hardest of all to endure. If he felt about her the way she believed he did. As she felt about him.
They mounted and rode around to the southern palisade of the citadel.
The young bear stood on a low mound, its eyes shining green with moonlight as it stared towards them.
It turned, ambling away, and they rode after it, side by side in the still night.
But they had not gone far when a sound behind them made Branwen turn in the saddle.
It was the rapid pulse of hoofbeats.
She frowned as she saw a rider chasing after them at speed.
‘I had the feeling I would not be rid of him so easily!’ sighed Rhodri.
‘Who?’ asked Branwen, trying to make out the face of the approaching horseman. And then she did see his face, and her heart leaped. He was grinning as he came alongside them, reining his horse up sharply.
‘Praise the saints that I am a light sleeper!’ he said. ‘You’d have got away from me else!’
‘Iwan, don’t try to stop me,’ pleaded Branwen. ‘I must go. I
have
to.’
‘Of course you do,’ Iwan replied. ‘But I cannot leave you all alone with this dull-witted and gloomy Druid!’ He leaned forward over his horse’s neck, smiling at her with shining eyes. ‘Where you go, barbarian princess, I must go, too. If you will have me.’
‘I will,’ said Branwen, her heart filling with gladness. ‘Yes, Iwan, I will have you.’
A haunting yowling cry sounded from ahead of them. ‘The young bear becomes impatient,’ said Rhodri.
‘Then let’s not keep him waiting!’ said Branwen, flicking the reins so that Terrwyn broke into a canter. ‘Let’s follow destiny’s path together and see where it leads.’
And so, with the night wind rushing in her ears and the moon shining down on her and with her two fond companions riding at her side, Branwen ap Griffith, Branwen the shaman girl, Branwen of the Shining Ones went flying southwards to new and unknown adventures.
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