Upon reaching the portico, he became aware of eyes watching him. He stopped and waited. Out of the shadows stepped the maid Morgian, hands folded before her, a demure smile touching her lips. He returned the smile but felt a watery chill strike through him.
“You are come to see Charis,” Morgian said, still smiling.
“Yes. Tell me, if you know, is she in her chamber?”
“She is. She has been expecting you this day.”
Dafyd’s eyebrows knitted in surprise. “How so? Until a short while ago I had no thought to come at all.”
Morgian inclined her head slightly, as if listening to someone standing beside her. “So you say.”
“Will you take me to her?” Dafyd gestured at the great brazen door which stood open. Morgian looked to the doorway but made no move toward it.
“You have come about Taliesin.”
“In truth I have.”
Morgian’s face clouded and she advanced slowly toward the priest. A thin tendril of fear snaked out and touched Dafyd’s heart. “She does not love Taliesin,” Morgian told him, her voice low and threatening.
“She told you this?” Dafyd had the sudden and inexplicable urge to flee.
“She has told everyone-even the singer himself, but he will not listen. She told him she would not come. He waits in vain.”
“I would like to see Charis now.”
Morgian nodded gravely. “Then you had better follow me.” She started toward the door, took a few steps, and then hesitated. “Perhaps I can help the singer.”
“Perhaps,” replied Dafyd, “but I will speak with Charis first and then we will see.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Did you think to go to him without telling me?” Avallach filled the doorway to Charis’ room. She straightened from pulling on her riding boots and faced him.
“How did you know?”
“Morgian told me,” he said, disappointment and anger roughening his voice. “She said Dafyd had come with word. You do not deny it?”
“How did Morgian know?” she wondered. “I was going to tell you. Dafyd has only just left.”
“When?”
“When I was certain.” She returned her father’s gaze directly. Avallach stood just inside the doorway, a hand pressed to his side as if the knowledge that his daughter meant to leave him had pierced him through. His face was the color of carved ivory behind the blackness of his beard. “I do not know if I love him, Father, but I know I want to try.”
“No.” He shook his head slowly. “I cannot allow it. We are a noble people; our race is a noble race.”
Charis moved around the table and laid her hands on Avallach’s arm. “Why have you come here this way?” she asked gently. “It cannot be Taliesin.” Avallach turned his face away. “Who spoke of joining the destiny of our races, of adapting to their ways-who said these things if not you? You gave them lands; you gave them a home.”
Avallach stiffened. “I did not give them my daughter.”
“No,” replied Charis softly. “I did that.”
“I will not have it,” he said through clenched teeth. “I will not! Our blood is pure. You cannot mingle the blood of royal Atlantis with these… these”
“Cymry barbarians?” Charis stepped away from him. “You were the one who said our future lies with them. And you were right; it is true. Every year there are fewer of us. Counting Belyn’s people, we were nearly two thousand strong when we landed on these shores. Now there are only a thousand left. Six children were born last year”
“Six! You see”
“None of them survived the winter! We are dying, Father. If we are to survive it must be with them, for we will die alone.”
“I did not mean” he began and stopped, looking at Charis helplessly. “It need not be this way.”
“There is no other way,” replied Charis firmly. “Our royal Atlantean blood means nothing to us here, Father. You know this; you have said it. Taliesin loves me-he wants us to marry. He has come back for me and I am going to speak to him.”
“If you want to marry, I will find someone-one of our own people. There are many in Belyn’s house who would marry you.”
“Tactfully put, Father,” Charis said wryly, “I might be more grateful were I one of your brood mares.”
“Better that than marriage to-to a Briton! I forbid you to do this,” he growled and raised his fist. “Do you hear? I forbid it!”
Charis went to him and knelt at his feet. She took his hands in her own. “I want this, Father. I want to make him happy.” Saying it to her father made it real to her, and she knew that it was true. Her heart had spoken. “I do love him.”
Avallach lifted a trembling hand to his daughter’s head. She lay her cheek against his knee and he stroked her hair. “You drove me away once, Father,” she said. “Do you remember?”
“I do.” The king made a choking noise in his throat. “And the memory brings me pain.”
“Please, please, do not send me away again. Let me go to him freely, so that I may return freely. Do not put this between us.”
“Charis, you leave me no choice.”
She raised her head. Avallach’s lips were pressed into a firm line, but his hand was soft against her hair. “There is always a choice, Father-if we want it.”
He looked away. “This is more bitter to me than death.”
“No,” Charis said sharply. “You do not mean it. You cannot bind me to you with false feeling.”
“There is no falsehood in me!” he cried. “Our line has remained pure for a thousand generations.”
“Atlantis is lost; it is gone and will never be again. But I am alive, Father. Alive! And I cannot live in a world that has died. Our so illustrious line will end here-is that what you want?”
“There are others… our own people.”
“Where are they? Let them come forward and declare for me as Taliesin has done.” She gripped his hands very hard as if willing him to understand. “There is no one, Father.”
“Wait but a little. Perhaps you will change your mind.”
“How long would you have me wait? How many seasons have passed since we came to Ynys Prydein? How many more must pass?”
“Your place is here, among your own people,” Avallach insisted.
“I am dying here.” Charis lifted her hand and put it against her father’s cheek. He stared at her stubbornly. “Every day I die a little, Father. If I stayed I would become like Annubi- which is worse than death. I grieve for Annubi, but I will not become like him.”
Avallach stiffened and rose to his feet. “And I say you shall not leave. I swear by my life that you will not!” He stormed from the room.
Charis listened to his heavy footfall fade. Now what? she wondered. I cannot go like this. I will not. I must find a way to soften Avallach’s heart. Taliesin will understand. Oh, but he is waiting-I must take word to him.
She went at once to the stable where a groom met her at the stable door. “We have caught but one small rat today, Princess Charis. How is the merlin?”
“He is well, but I did not come about his food.”
“Oh?”
“I need a horse at once.”
The groom’s placid smile faded. “Do not ask me, Princess Charis. I cannot allow you to have a horse.”
“The king?”
“He said you were not to have the gray or any other mount.”
“I see,” said Charis, glancing around quickly. “What is that horse being readied there?”
“Why, that is mine, Princess,” answered the groom. “I am going out to the foaling in the meadows beyond the marsh.”
“Then you can take word for me.”
“At once, Princess.”
“Good. This message is for Taliesin.”
“The barbarian harper?”
“The Briton bard,” Charis replied firmly. “Tell him… Ah, tell him I am prevented from meeting him. Say that Aval-lach must be reconciled. Tell him to return to his people and that I will send word to him there. Do you understand?”