The Dark Thorn - By Shawn Speakman Page 0,189

said. “I would do as Caswallawn suggested if I could. When I reentered Annwn from Rome the first thing I did was try to discern if it remained in Caer Llion. I failed. The Dark Thorn seemed confused, pulled in three different directions. I cannot explain why. One day I may aid in the retrieval of the Holy Grail. Until I learn more from Merle about the staff, it may be some time.”

Frowns and dissatisfied grunts filled the tent.

“It will be as you say, Knight McAllister,” the Morrigan said before turning to Aife. “How fare the Rhedewyr then? Are they recovering from their stampede?”

“The Rhedewyr graze upon the grasslands to the west,” Aife reported, returned entirely to her nude human form. “Almost two dozen died in the initial rush against the army of Caer Llion, more than a hundred injured. Kegan and his remaining son aid them now. They will be ready for whatever you require, my Queen.”

“What will become of Caer Llion?” Lord n’Hagr rumbled.

“It will go to the remaining family of Lord Gerallt,” the Morrigan said. “First, I must say with great sadness, I am sorrowed by the loss of the lord and his daughter. Without men and women of honor, the Tuatha de Dannan would barely have anything to trust in mankind. They will be missed and never forgotten. Caer Llion shall exist as a monument to Lord Gerallt and a center of power here in the south. The remaining descendents of man—including the Templar Knights who survived the battle—will have sanctuary within its walls and the plains about it.”

“Lord Gerallt leaves behind no direct heir,” Snedeker said sadly. “I believe he had a younger brother, though, with a family of his own.”

“If Lord Caswallawn can abstain from Govannon’s brew, I wish him to help guide Lord Gerallt’s brother until he is fit to rule on his own,” the Queen said. “Lord Caswallawn, do you accept this great honor?”

“I do, my Queen,” Caswallawn said.

“It is settled then.” The Morrigan nodded to those around her. “Caer Llion will maintain the peace in the south. Lord Fafnir, his grandson Faric, and the coblynau will once again entreat trade relations between Caer Glain and the rest of Annwn, as is their right now that they have returned to the Seelie Court. Lord Latobius, his brethren, and their Fynach caretakers will undoubtedly remain in Tal Ebolyon where they have ever resided.”

“We will continue in our snowy reaches as long as we are able,” Latobius assured. “It is home.”

“Lord Latobius, those gathered here owe you and your kin a debt as well,” the Morrigan added. “If it had not been for you and your intervention, our demise would have been at hand.”

“Took him long enough to arrive,” Caswallawn snorted.

Everyone looked around uncomfortably. Richard wanted to strike Caswallawn. It appeared even after the survival of the Tuatha de Dannan and the expulsion of Philip, old wounds refused heal.

“My people die, Lord Caswallawn,” Latobius whispered. “Surely, you of all the lords present know what that means. Each life among my people is far more precious than I can relate. Nael will heal in time. The wounds visited upon him are mending in a shaded glen not far from here, and we were fortunate to not lose him. To die is to give meaning to that death, but when a people are as few as we are, no death holds meaning.”

“I did not mean to offend,” Caswallawn conceded.

“It is ever in your nature to do so, Lord Caswallawn,” Latobius said sadly. “I decided it best to view the battle and its progress from a safe distance before offering our might. After all, no reason to become involved if Tal Ebolyon was not needed.”

“It was,” Lord Eigion pointed out. “Those sitting here are very much in your debt.”

“You have my oath to discover what ails dragonkind,” Richard reminded the dragon lord.

Latobius nodded to the knight in appreciation.

“Richard McAllister and Bran Ardall,” the Queen addressed, moving on. “What is it you desire from the Seelie Court, though I cannot offer title or land?”

“There is nothing you can give us, Queen,” Richard replied.

The Morrigan nodded. “Then a favor at another time. What will come of the portal in Rome? A Knight of the Yn Saith has perished there, which saddens us all a great deal for his sacrifice. It will take time for Myrddin Emrys to promote a replacement.”

“The Kreche will oversee the portal from this side until such a time he is relieved by a new Knight

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