May Earth Rise by Holly Taylor Read Free Book Online

smoothed away, though his blue eyes held a sadness still, the remembrance of his mother and father and brother. That sadness would always be there, but now there was joy, too, since Sanon of Prydyn had come with him to Coed Coch to share his exile and his heart.
    “A boon, Esyllt?” he prompted. “And what do you wish?” He stopped himself from asking what she could possibly want now, for Esyllt wanted many things, most of which he had no power to give her. But it was in her nature to demand, as beautiful women sometimes will. And he was used to it. For he understood, as many did not, that Esyllt ur Maelwys, wife to March y Meirchion and lover to Trystan ap Naf, Owein’s captain, was merely afraid, and it was her nature to seek out any who would promise, or seem to promise, to care for her.
    “Trystan is in Ystrad Marchell, leading the Cerddorian in burning Havgan’s ships, as the High King has ordered.”
    “Yes,” Owein agreed, knowing full well where this was leading.
    “I beg you to order him back to Coed Coch.”
    “I need him where he is, Esyllt. You know that.”
    “Owein—”
    “No.” He was silent as Esyllt slowly turned away. “Esyllt,” he said softly as she turned from him. “Your husband, he is almost well.”
    “Yes,” Esyllt said dully, not bothering to turn around. “He is almost well.”
    “Go to him, then. For he loves you.”
    “As Trystan does not.”
    “That I cannot say.”
    “Cannot or will not?”
    “Cannot,” Owein said firmly. As she slowly walked away, he couldn’t help but notice that Esyllt had not asked if she could go to Ystrad Marchell to be with Trystan. Esyllt had never been brave. But she was his Bard, and had been his father’s Bard. And he was sorry that he could not help her.
    He walked away from the clearing with its ring of tents, so well made that they were warm and snug, even at this time of year. He needed to tell Sanon the news. He smiled to himself, because he would have gone to find Sanon now, in any case, news or no news. For she was his heart’s delight, the only delight he had ever really known, and he always longed to be with her, though that never prevented him from doing his duty, for that was not his way.
    He knew where she would be. She would be with Teleri, his lieutenant, practicing her work with sword and dagger. Sanon was already an accomplished bow-woman, but she had, as she explained to Owein, never given her attention to the art of swordplay. Before the enemy came, her time had usually been given to the making of tapestries, to weaving, to embroidery, because that was what she liked. She could have trained for combat, had she wished, but she had never wished it. And after the enemy came, she had done nothing, she told Owein, for the last two years. She had been consumed with sorrow for the death of her intended, Owein’s elder brother, Elphin. She had taken no interest in life, had, she said, wandered the caves of Ogaf Greu like a pale ghost.
    But now, she had gone on to explain to him that first night together, her dark eyes honest and truthful, her golden hair spilling over his bare chest, she wished to learn to fight. Because she was Queen of Rheged now and she wanted to fight with him, shoulder to shoulder, to drive the enemy away from their land.
    And he had said, bitterly, that Morcant was the King of Rheged, and that his sister, Enid, was the queen. And Sanon had sat up so quickly she had startled him, and glared down at him as he lay within the blankets, and her dark eyes had flashed.
    “You are King. And I am your queen. And, soon, Morcant will be dead by your hand and your sister will be returned to you.”
    And he had not argued with her, but had pulled her down on top of him, and kissed her anger and his bitterness away.
    “Like this, my Queen,” he heard Teleri say. And he heard the whoosh of a knife blade flung through the cold air, and the solid thunk as it embedded itself in the trunk of a tree. He crept up to the