Read The Two Tanists (A Bard Without a Star, Book 2) for Free Online Page B

into Dyfed.
    They arrived at Caer Arberth
five days after leaving Caer Dathyl. A guard on the wall of the caer called
out to them. “Who are you, and what are your intentions?”
    Gwydion pushed back the hood
of his cloak. “I am Gwydion ap Don, Tanist of Gwynedd. I come in peace to
seek council with Gwillim, Lord Dyfed.”
    The guard disappeared, and
after a few minutes, a new kern appeared. “I am Adaf, chief of Dyfed’s
warriors. Do you come in peace?”
    “We do,” Gwydion answered.
    “Then lay down your arms.”
    Gwydion nodded, and
dismounted to remove his sword. Gil muttered, “I feel naked,” but he put his
claymore on the pile with the rest of the weapons. Gwydion understood, but the
formality did not concern him. So far, everything was according to tradition
and custom.
    The gates creaked open, and
they led their horses into the courtyard. Grooms appeared and took the
animals, while Adaf came down and greeted them. “My Lord Dyfed has agreed to
meet with you,” he said. “Only the Tanist and two others will be allowed. The
rest will wait here.”
    Gwydion nodded to Gilventhy
and the senior kern, Neith. They walked into a quiet hall where all eyes
watched them as they made their way to the high dais. Gwillim’s seat was the
largest in the hall, though not a throne, and Kyrnin stood just behind him, looking
disdainful.
    Gwydion bowed low before Lord
Dyfed. “Greetings from Math, Lord Gwynedd to his peer.”
    “We welcome you to our
cantref and our hall,” Gwillim said. “What do you seek?”
    “The honor price of Laird
Moryus.”
    “Are you accusing a cantref
lord of murder?” Kyrnin said.
    “Not at all,” Gwydion
replied. “But he is responsible for the actions of his people.”
    “What honor price do you
seek?” Gwillim said after a stern glance at his son.
    “I want the head of Laird
Deykin on a pole.”
    The people gasped, and
Kyrnin’s scowl deepened. “Impossible,” he said.
    “It does seem a bit steep for
his crime,” Gwillim said. “Didn’t this happen during a cattle raid?”
    “If it were just an
accidental death during a friendly cattle raid, I wouldn’t be here,” Gwydion
said. “But Laird Deykin has been violating the Rules established between Math
and your Grandsire, Erdyn.”
    “Do you have any proof of
this?” Kyrnin asked with a trace of smugness.
    Gwydion addressed him for the
first time. “I was there when Deykin tried to kill Laird Moryus. Twice.”
    “And how many cattle raids
have you been on exactly?”
    “That was my only one.”
    Kyrnin smirked. “So you may
have misinterpreted high spirits and the rush of excitement for attempted
murder.”
    Gwydion said. “I could
have. But I didn’t.” He turned his attention back to Gwillim. “You don’t
ambush a party with archers in good sport.”
    Gwillim nodded, but Kyrnin
snorted. “You’re asking for a life. We need more than your word.”
    “Shall I contact the Pen
Bardd, and have him send a bardic company to judge the situation?” Gwydion
asked. “I think their verdict might be harsher than what I am asking.”
    Kyrnin took a step forward.
“Is that a threat?”
    “I want peace between our cantrefs,”
Gwydion said. “I will do what it takes to accomplish that goal.”
    “Including razing this caer?”
    “Enough!” Gwillim stood, and
after giving another stern look to his son he addressed Gwydion. “We too seek
peace between our cantrefs. Assure Math that the Rules will be observed in the
South as they are in the North.”
    “And Deykin?” Gwydion
prompted.
    “Tell your uncle to listen to
the winds,” Gwillim said. “I will make sure that justice is done.”
    Gwydion cocked his head as
though he were listening to something. After a moment he nodded and bowed
low. “Your word is accepted, and binding, my Lord. Lord Gwynedd awaits the
results of your justice.”
    Gwydion saw several people
making warding signs against him, and even Neith was looking at him nervously.
Gwillim did not