with a single oak at its pinnacle lording over these lands. A battle found its way to the plains south of here, as they have everywhere in Annwn, elves against humans. These elves fought valiantly but were continuously pushed through the plains to these hills. Here they stood, through trickery. To create a diversion and save their people, two elven brothers lured the human army up a southern draw while their brethren fled. The brothers fought side by side at the top of this very hill, unyielding. They slew hundreds, alone, buying the time their nation needed, before a sea of cowardly arrows cut them down.
“It is said the hillside wept at their courage and sacrifice. This spring is the result of that day, their blood the origin of the ancient rose bush.”
“I know the history of my own people,” Deirdre said.
“You know your people killed those brothers then,” John Lewis Hugo said, turning toward her with a coldness she had not seen in another before. “Outright. And settled these hills to form the Reach?” He paused, the darkness suddenly gone. “We share a great deal in common, my lady. We both have fought the fey. We hail from the same shores. True, your ancestors were the first to Annwn, and settled here long before the High King and I arrived centuries ago. You are part of a proud history here in Annwn, and a member of a prouder family. It is the High King’s wish to meld our two peoples into one, uniting against the common enemy.”
There it was. Deirdre didn’t know what to say. John Lewis Hugo had worked in the marriage proposal so smoothly she hadn’t seen it coming.
“You mean marriage,” she said. “To drag us into war.”
John Lewis Hugo stood stoic. “You must consider that. Although I sincerely doubt the High King would bring his might against fellow kinsmen.”
“I simply do not understand why anyone must war with another.”
“It is in the very heart of man to wage war, Lady Deirdre,” John Lewis Hugo said. “It is unchangeable. While I do not care for the deities those of Annwn pray to, I do care about the overall outcome of Annwn’s future. That future has Caer Llion as the capital of the whole continent, with the High King’s Lord at its head.”
“He isn’t my Lord,” she pointed out.
“Indeed,” John Lewis Hugo said. “Your people fled the Misty Isles before the Christian God drove the gods of old from those shores. Still, it is time for the High King to marry, to have a family, to produce an heir. It is a great honor that he looks upon you with favor—and it would be folly for Mochdrev Reach to ignore him.”
The veiled threat shot dread directly into Deirdre’s heart.
“There are many more worthy women,” she countered. “Women who would be better matches for Philip Plantagenet.”
John Lewis Hugo smiled. “Do not be so quick to dismiss yourself, Lady Deirdre. There is a strength that shines within you like the summer sun. Redheads are powerful creatures, always have been. They command respect from men and women alike. It has ever been so with the Celtic people. Even the Tuatha de Dannan respect a redheaded human. That makes you unique.” The charred face came closer to her own. “Desirable even. To some.”
With his hot breath on her cheek, madness filled Deirdre. The High King’s advisor did not stop there. John Lewis Hugo traced a long, cool finger down the side of her cheek, his touch alien. The desire to flee, to fight, to do anything that removed the inappropriate caress overcame Deirdre, but she was rooted in place, unable to move. Panic set in. Deep in his eyes, madness flickered. He did not want her, not in a sexual way. He enjoyed making her fear; he enjoyed watching that fear manifest and seeing how she reacted to it. Deirdre understood immediately that John Lewis Hugo was far darker and more evil than anyone she had ever encountered.
Just when she thought she would break the spell and lash out, the High King’s advisor withdrew.
“Indeed, you are powerful,” he said smoothly as if nothing had happened. “In one month you will present yourself to the court at Caer Llion. Bring whatever retinue you deem fit for a queen of Annwn. I am pleased we understand one another and I hope to serve you further. I wish you a good day, Lady Deirdre.”
At that, John Lewis Hugo turned on his heels and left Merthyr