s.n.a.t.c.hing a burning brand from the firepit, he ran back outside to the gate, lifted the crosspiece from its pegs, and threw the ma.s.sive gate open. Then he flew down the track to the cattle pens with the firebrand in his hand. Behind him came the alarm sounded on Gwyddno's hunting horn, and then the clanging of the iron bar hanging from the oak.

Elphin reached the pen and was met by the swords of four raiders. A blood-freezing shriek tore from his throat and he threw himself at the raiders, swinging his firebrand in a flaming arc around him. The thieves fell back in confusion and he saw the fear on their faces in the wild light of the torch, so pressed was his attack, shoving the burning branch at them time and time again.

Other raiders sped to the fray. He swung to meet them, raising his voice in a fierce battle scream, flailing with the firebrand. He struck one man who went down with a grunt, and the others scattered. Elphin chased them, shrieking and swinging and lunging. The flaming brand ripped and flared in the night, making him seem like an incendiary being.

His clansmen from the caer reached the pen and saw a strange sight: Elphin, unarmed except for his firebrand, chasing ten raiders armed with swords and spears, fleeing before him as if before a battlelord in a hurtling chariot.

They ran to his aid, hot battle cries piercing the cool night air. One of the raiders slipped behind Elphin and aimed his spear. "Look out!" cried Gwyddno.

Elphin heard the shout and spun as the spear sliced the air beside him. He put out a hand and his fist closed on the clumsily-thrown shaft, plucking it out of the air. He whipped around to face the raiders who, backed against the low stone wall, had turned to attack him once more. They yelled and ran forward, bunched together in a ma.s.s. Elphin hefted the spear and with a mighty heave let it fly.

The spear flew true, pa.s.sing through the foremost raider's flimsy leather shield and his body and into the one pressing close behind him as well. The two, pinioned by the same spear, fell as one.

Seeing this remarkable feat, the remaining thieves halted, turned and fled, scrambling over the walls and disappearing into the night. The caer dwellers gave chase but did not catch them, and soon returned to the scene of the fight.

There they found Elphin, naked and shaking, standing over the bodies of the men he had slain, the smoldering firebrand still in his hand. Gwyddno approached him and said, "Never have I seen a man behave in battle the way you did."

"Who were they?" asked Elphin.

Cuall, one of the first to reach the fight, stooped over the dead men and pushed a torch into their faces. He straightened and said, "I have never seen such men. Their dress is as strange as their faces."

"Irish?" asked Gwyddno.

Cuall shook his head. "I do not think so."

"Who they are does not matter," said one of the men. "Our cattle are safe."

"There should have been an alarm," offered Gwyddno. "Where are our herdsmen?"

"Dead." They all turned to the speaker, who gestured to a far wall. "If not for Elphin, we would never have discovered the theft until morning and then the thieves would have been away clean."

The men looked at Elphin wonderingly. "How did you leam of the raid?" asked his father.

"I do not know," he answered, shaking his head as if were as great a mystery to himself as to the others. "I could not sleep and came outside. I heard something and saw the glimmer of a sword in the cattle pen. When I looked there were men here. I ran to the lord's house, wakened him, and took a firebrand from his hearth. I came down here..."

Cuall retrieved one of the raider's weapons. "These swords are blackened with pitch and mud-as are the faces of the wretches before us," he said, turning the blade over for all to see. "How could you see it shine?"

Elphin only shook his head. "That I cannot say. I only know I saw it and came running."

"But why did you not wait for us, son?" asked Gwyddno. "It was foolhardy to go against them alone."

"Foolhardy perhaps," replied one of the men, "but I saw Elphin's face in the firelight. Why, it burned as bright as the torch in his hand!"

"Brighter," said another. "He had the battle frenzy on him and the warrior's glow-as the heroes of old."

"Did you see?" said a third. "He s.n.a.t.c.hed the spear out of the air and threw it back!"

"Two with one throw!" shouted another.

The men began shouting victory cries, and Cuall leapt upon the dead raiders with a sword and hewed the heads from their shoulders. He handed the dripping trophies to Elphin, saying, "With nothing but a torch you routed the enemy. Hail Elphin, son of Gwyddno Garanhir, champion of the fight!"

"Hail Elphin!" the others cried. And Elphin was borne back to the caer on the shoulders of men who chanted victory songs in his honor for hours into the night.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

"Have you ever seen anything so..." Charis searched for just the right word, "... so magnificent?"

Guistan peered at her and sniffed, "Of course, the High King lives well. Why not? It is his right." The boy tossed another grape into his mouth. "He is a G.o.d, after all."

"Not a real G.o.d."

"He is too," insisted Guistan. He put a grape under his thumb and squashed it. "Ask Annubi. When a king becomes High King, he also becomes a G.o.d. Would you have a G.o.d live in a pigsty?"

"I said said the palace is magnificent," she insisted. "I think the High King is magnificent, too; I do not care whether he is a G.o.d or not." the palace is magnificent," she insisted. "I think the High King is magnificent, too; I do not care whether he is a G.o.d or not."

"Huh!" snorted Guistan, getting to his feet. He squashed another grape and then picked up the pulpy ma.s.s and threw it at Charis.

She ducked and grabbed an orange from the fruitbowl and threw it at his quickly-retreating back. "I hate you!" she yelled after him. The orange splattered on the marble floor and rolled, spilling juice as it went. Charis turned away in disgust.

"Was this welcome meant for me?"

Charis spun back to see a dark-haired woman in a flowing tunic and mantle standing in the doorway, the ruined orange at her feet. "Aunt Elaine!" she cried, and flew across the room to hug her aunt.

"Here," said Elaine taking Charis' hand, "put your hand just there." She held the girl's hand flat against the side of her protruding stomach. "Do you feel anything?"

"Mmm, no," replied Charis. Elaine moved her hand to a different place and almost at once Charis felt a quiver and then a b.u.mp beneath her hand. She pulled her hand away at once.

"Was that the baby?"

Her aunt nodded. "That was a foot or an elbow. He squirms around an awful lot these days, poor thing. He is cramped in there and wants to be free."

"Have you seen the garden?" asked Charis suddenly, taking Elaine's hand and leading her to the balcony.

"Only from my window."

"I have explored almost the whole garden; let me show you."

"Very well, but first let us find your mother. I have not yet greeted her."

"She will come with us and you can talk while I show you the garden. "Charis dashed to the doorway. "I will bring her."

Charis found her mother in conversation with Ilean as the maidservant arranged the queen's hair. ' 'Mother, Aunt Elaine is here-we are going for a walk and she wants you to come too."

"Thank you, Ilean." Briseis dismissed the servant and followed her daughter into the next room where they found Elaine where Charis had left her, standing in the sunlight on the balcony. Elaine turned and held out her arms. "Briseis!"

Briseis' step faltered. A shadow swept across her face and she stopped.

"Briseis? What is it?"

"Mother?" asked Charis.

The queen came to herself again and the moment pa.s.sed. "Oh, it was just-it is nothing." Briseis stepped close and kissed the other woman on the cheek. "Elaine, how are you? Any change?"

"Not to speak of. The baby is due any day, they say-they have been saying it for months, it seems. I have my doubts."

"Let us walk," offered Charis. "I want to show you the garden."

"Yes, I desperately need some fresh air."

Charis led them out and down the stone staircase to the garden Below. She struck off along the first path she came to and the women followed behind. For a while Charis darted back and forth, urging them to hurry. But gradually she got further and further ahead and when she looked back to see them stop to sit down on a stone bench beside the path, she despaired. "We will never get to see any any of the garden this way," she thought. of the garden this way," she thought.

She started toward them, dragging her heels. Her mother saw her and waved her on. "You go ahead, Charis!" she called. "We will come along soon."

Glad for the freedom, she dashed away and soon lost herself in the winding pathways of the High King's lush and elaborate garden. She flitted along a neatly-trimmed hedge, over a quaint wooden bridge, and into a lemon grove. The trees were still in flower and the scent of the blossoms slowed her; she walked along, humming to herself, wandering in the sweet, heady fragrance.

Further into the grove she came to a shaded pool fed from a stone fountain in its center: a great green, marble fish with a gaping mouth. Sparkling water spouted from the fish's mouth to fill the quiet pool. Charis knelt and held her hands in the flowing water and then patted her forehead and neck. The cool water felt good on her skin.

She lay back on the gra.s.sy slope and watched the clouds floating across the sky, then closed her eyes. The sound of singing drifted in her ears-a clear liquid melody, like drops of water falling in the pool. She listened for a moment; the words were strange and curiously uttered, as if the singer were speaking an unknown tongue.

Charis rose and made her way toward the sound, walking around the rim of the pool, ducking under the drooping branches of a katsura tree growing at the water's edge. She came to a wall of cinnamon ferns, pushed her way through the pungent green fronds, and stepped cautiously into a sunlit glade.

There, on a tall three-legged stool, sat a woman with hair of flaming gold, wearing a shimmering tunic of deep emerald green. She held a silver embroidery hoop in her hand, but there was no cloth on it, and no needles or thread nearby that Charis could see. As soon as Charis stepped from the shadows, the song ended. The woman turned her head and regarded Charis openly, her lips curved in a welcoming smile.

"I wondered who was listening to me," the woman said. "Come closer, girl."

Charis took a slow, cautious step.

The woman laughed lightly; it was the sound of dew falling on the leaves. "I Believe you fear me."

Charis moved more quickly and carne to stand beside the woman. "How did you know I was listening?" she asked.

"What a pretty girl you are, Charis."

"Do you know me?"

"If I did not know you, how should I know your name?"

"Who are you?" Charis asked, and then blanched at the impertinence of the question.

"Why be afraid?" the woman asked. "I consider a forthright question a kindness. So much can be hidden behind false courtesy."

Charis just stared. There was something very familiar about the woman, and yet...

"Oh, you do not recognize me, do you?" said the woman. "Perhaps if I were to wear my silk and circlet you would remember."

The woman made a sweeping motion with her hands and her image shifted in the air and rippled, as if it were a reflection in the water. And Charis saw before her the figure of the High Queen, dressed in bright red silk, with a long cloak and a narrow band of gold on her brow, her braided hair bound in golden rings.

Charis bowed and raised her hands in the sun sign.

The queen laughed. "So you do recognize me after all. I am glad. How tedious it would be if we were to go on speaking and neither one of us knowing who she addressed."

When Charis looked again the image faded and the High Queen a.s.sumed her proper appearance. Charis blinked her eyes in amazement; her jaw dropped.

"Why surprised, Charis? It is a simple enough illusion."

"My queen," replied Charis a little breathlessly. "I have never seen such a thing."

"Oh, there are many such things one could do-and many greater things as well-if one knew how. But you may call me Danea, for I think we are going to be friends." The High Queen held up the silver hoop. "Do you know what this is, Charis?"

"An embroidery hoop?"

"Very like, but no. It is an enchanter's ring. I will hold it up so" She displayed it between her palms. "And you tell me what you see."

The girl looked and at first saw nothing but the queen's shoulder and the glade beyond. She opened her mouth to speak, but Danea said, "Wait! Concentrate. Look deeply."

Charis' brows knitted in concentration. She stared into the hoop and the objects within grew hazy. There was a swirling motion, like the circular swipe of a whirlpool. Charis felt dizzy, as if she would swoon. But she forced herself to look, and when the motion ceased she saw a palace on a hill surrounded by apple groves. "Why, it is my home!" she replied in surprise. "Our palace in Kellios."

"What else do you see?"

Charis peered into the enchanted ring as if into a mirror and saw a slim young girl running across a wide courtyard, followed by a barking brown dog. The girl stopped and threw a stick high in the air and the dog danced on its hind legs to catch it. "That is Velpa, the master cook's daughter."

"And now?"

The image within the hoop swirled again and resolved itself. This time it was a picture of the garden itself. Two women walked side by side, deep in conversation.

"There is Mother and Elaine," said Charis, and her mother glanced up. "Can they hear me?"

"No, but she sensed your presence when you spoke." The High Queen lowered the hoop and placed it in her lap. "That was very good, Charis. Not everyone does so well; some see nothing at all. You may have a gift for enchantment."

"Was Velpa really there?"

"You saw her as she is now, yes."

"Does it always show what you want it to show? Or is it like the Lia Fail?"

"Do you know how to use the Lia Fail?"

Charis nodded. "Annubi is teaching me."

"But you have used it yourself on occasion without telling anyone. Am I correct?"

"Yes," admitted Charis reluctantly. "But I meant no harm."