The Beast of Caer Baddan by Rebecca Vaughn Read Free Book Online Page B

take care that you watch intently,” he said. “The Gewissae have a different fighting style to the Pictii, and you shall gain as much from this battle as you did from the ones against Maetae.”
    “I shall!” the boy cried, his treble voice ringing with fervor.
    “Get ready to ride.”
    Annon ran to his own tent, and Owain smiled over his playfulness. He recalled his own combat training which had not been as joyous as his young student’s had quickly become.

    “Leir!” Owain called, when he entered the large front room of his spacious tent.
    “Ie, Master,” his servant replied.
    “Pack my things. We are leaving for Venta.”
    Leir brought out Owain’s cape.
    “Pack, than take down the tent, Boys,” Leir said to another five servants, who quickly obeyed.
    “The Kingdom of Atrebat, Master?” Leir asked of Owain, as he secured the cape on his shoulders. “News from your uncle, the king?”
    “Ie. Good news, in fact. War.”
    Another battle meant another opportunity to honor his mother with a brilliant conquest.
    “I found this among your tunics, Master,” Leir said, bringing out a long pure white garment.
    Owain did not have to look long on it to identify what it was.
    “A lady has left an underdress,” he replied, although he could not say to whom it belonged.
    “I know not who to send it to, Master,” Leir said.
    “Nor I. Worry not on that. Pack it with the rest of the supplies.”
    Owain gave one final look at himself in the silver mirror. 
    “Good news, indeed,” he mused.

Chapter Seven: Rumors of War
     
     
     
    Once Owain gave the orders to centurions, their company was off down the southerly road into the woods. They consisted of four princes, fifty knights, and over one hundred servants, trailing through the forest. The spring air was crisp with the scent of the budding primrose, but their haste would not allow them to enjoy it.
    It was evening before they arrived at the castle of Venta Capital of Atrebat. Owain took Annon into the library, while Britu inquired after the king and queen.
    “My parents are still out,” Britu said to Swale.
    His restless being at last breathed a sigh of relief. Now that they were in Venta, and Britu could see that the city was not yet under attack, he felt his fear over the upcoming war subside.
    “I should have known they would not be back yet,” Britu mused. “It is Sunday.”
    Swale gave him a puzzle look as if to say “what does the day have to do with them being out?”
    “ It is Sunday,” Britu said again, annoyed that he should have to explain his parents' enthusiasm towards religion. 
    “They are in church,” Swale replied, with a knowing laugh. “We should have stayed longer at breakfast. And now we are sore.”
    “It is better to be here and wait for my father, then for him to wait for us,” Britu said. “Come. We shall go tell Owain.”
    They walked down the wide passageway and into the library at the far back of the castle, where they found Annon sitting alone at the round table by the hearth.
    “Where is Owain?” Britu asked.
    “He went out for a moment,” Annon replied. “He shall be back.”
    “He is out chasing some girl,” Britu said.
    He knew that this was his conjecture yet strongly believed it to be accurate.
    “You sent Prince Iestyn out to find King Gourthigern?” Swale asked of Britu. 
    “I did,” he replied. “My father could return at any moment, and when he sees Owain is not present, he shall blame me.”
    “Really, Britu,” Swale replied, his brow knotted in a disapproving frown. “You assume too much.”
    His clansman’s steady voice did not sooth Britu, and before he could answer the heavy wooden doors at the far end of the hall were pulled open, and another man walked in.
    “My father,” Britu grumbled.
    King Gourthigern was just five and forty but had all gray hair tied in a tail at the back of his neck. His brown beard was trimmed in style, shaved clean on the sides and worn long at the chin