The Pendragon's Champions: The Last Pendragon Saga, #5

By Sarah Woodbury

The fickle god Mabon, loose again in the human world, searches for the Thirteen Treasures of Britain. With each one he collects, his power grows. Knowing that time grows short, Cade sends out his champions to draw lords from throughout the land together for a final stand against Mabon--before it is too late.
The Pendragon's Champions is the fifth book in The Last Pendragon Saga.

The Complete Series reading order: The Last Pendragon, The Pendragon's Blade, Song of the Pendragon, The Pendragon's Quest, The Pendragon's Champions, Rise of the Pendragon, The Pendragon's Challenge, Legend of the Pendragon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Morgan-Stanwood Publishing Group
• Release date: Nov 10, 2016
• ISBN: 9781540113405

Sarah Woodbury

With over a million books sold to date, Sarah Woodbury is the author of more than forty novels, all set in medieval Wales. Although an anthropologist by training, and then a full-time homeschooling mom for twenty years, she began writing fiction when the stories in her head overflowed and demanded that she let them out. While her ancestry is Welsh, she only visited Wales for the first time at university. She has been in love with the country, language, and people ever since. She even convinced her husband to give all four of their children Welsh names. Sarah is a member of the Historical Novelists Fiction Cooperative (HFAC), the Historical Novel Society (HNS), and Novelists, Inc. (NINC). She makes her home in Oregon. Please follow her online at www.sarahwoodbury.com or https://www.facebook.com/sarahwoodburybooks

Book preview

Chapter One

Cade

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How many times had he left his bed when everyone else was asleep? He’d long since lost count of the nights he’d walked; of the men he’d killed. He liked to think he never killed anyone he didn’t have to, but the words with which Arawn had mocked him still rang in his ears: You think yourself so noble, Cadwaladr son of Cadwallon, even as you lie to yourself. You’re still trying to fill your father’s shoes, aren’t you? And failing, I might add.

Cade honestly didn’t know if his father had been a particularly wise man or simply a battle leader, born in the right place at the right time to make a difference. Cade had always thought that his father had been what his people needed: a good king, uniting his people and ruling over them with a strong hand. But recently, he’d begun to doubt that this was true. He’d heard stories, things that people said in passing when they didn’t know he could overhear, about his father’s temper, or his ruthlessness, or his neglect of his country while he was away, fighting for Penda. Cade had always thought his father had been fighting with Penda, who after all was his wife’s brother, but given the demands of kingship, Cade had a new perspective on why his people might not think that was the case.

It seemed to Cade that if he couldn’t unite the warring lords of Wales, he would be remembered as little more than a battle leader himself. Perhaps that was enough. Perhaps that was what his people needed most, but he was too close to his own life to tell. Cade wished that he could have known his father and have had his guidance. He wanted, somehow, to be more than he was—more than just a battle leader—and to find the words to bring all the Welsh to his side.

Cade was grateful that Taliesin had come to him. Without his advice, Cade might have made more mistakes than he had and fallen into another trap such as the one that took the lives of Cynyr and his men. Still, a father’s hand—a father’s presence—was invaluable. He and Rhun had needed Cynyr and regretted his loss every day of their lives.

Tonight, it was Taliesin who needed him. The darkness that had attacked them on the road could upend all Cade’s plans if they didn’t deal with it. Taliesin refused to explain or to name the force, other than to say that Mabon’s power was fleeting in comparison. Regardless, it was keeping Taliesin from contact with his patron, Gwydion. And without his help, Taliesin would never see again.

Once outside his chamber, Cade headed down the hall to what passed for a receiving room at Dinas Bran. Taliesin was there already, just shrugging into his worn cloak. Cade smiled at the ancient garment. Taliesin didn’t have to wear it. He had the new one—the one that was a deep green color and brought out the green in his tawny eyes—that he’d worn to his and Rhiann’s wedding.

But Cade wasn’t surprised this particular evening to see the faded, black cloth Taliesin had always worn wrapped around his shoulders. It may have been the same cloak worn by the man he’d been when he’d taken the infant Cade from his mother. There was comfort in the long legacy of mysticism from which Taliesin arose and which the cloak represented. They might need that comfort before the night was over.

Are you ready? Taliesin said.

If you are.

Given the menace that surrounds this fort. I have thought better of your assistance.

You’ve been seeking this on your own for far too long. You have even gone to Anglesey, where the old groves used to grow before the Romans cut them down. Your visions have not returned to you, and with the trouble on the road last night, we can no longer delay.

There are places I haven’t been. Questions I haven’t asked.

We have both avoided this day ever since you came to me, Cade said. I can help you. Let me help you. Let me do for you what only I can.

Taliesin studied Cade and then nodded. Together the two men walked quietly down the stairs to the great hall and then took the second stairway into the kitchen. A pigeon hooted in its cage, ready for tomorrow’s meal. Cade moved his hand to touch it as he passed and then drew it back. For whatever reason, whether Arianrhod’s gifts or some new strength of his own, he no longer needed it.

Taliesin was already through the pantry door, and as Cade trotted down the cellar steps after him, Taliesin lifted his staff so the light he’d conjured at the end of it could fill the room, illuminating the stones on the floor.

Do you know under which stone lies the passage we seek? Taliesin said.

I checked for it earlier. Cade crouched, slipped a knife from the sheath at his waist, and slotted it between two stones. One of the stones slid out easily, and Cade set it aside. I can slide it back into place once we’re through. It will be easy enough for me to find it again from the other side.

My apologies, Cade, for what may come next.

Cade looked up at the bard, who was observing him gravely. Taliesin had used Cade’s nickname—something Cade never remembered him doing before. You and I both know there is need. And, in truth, we’ve been in far worse places.

That we have, my friend.

Then a voice spoke from above them. And I, in turn, might ask why you continually seek such places out?

Cade laughed to hear Geraint’s dry tone and turned as his friend descended the stairs, sword in hand.

When the King of Gwynedd sneaks about in his own castle. What can I do but follow and try to dissuade him from embarking on whatever potentially disastrous adventure he’s contemplating? You know this isn’t a good idea if you opted not to tell me of it in advance.

Cade laughed again. "I thought, when I first learned of my inheritance and that one day I should be High King of Wales, that when I ordered a man to jump, like as not he’d say, Yes, my lord, how high?"

And now, Geraint said, you wonder why those around you are far more likely to tell you that whatever you intend is the god-damned-stupidest plan they’ve ever heard.

That does seem to be the case, more often than not, Cade admitted.

Geraint met Cade’s eyes, held them for a moment, and then smiled himself. But then, as you well know, we still jump.

Cade smiled apologetically and held out his hand in greeting. Thank you for coming, although, as you say, I did not ask for it.

They grasped forearms.

I heard you pass in the hall and was worried about more intruders. Geraint gestured with his head towards the hole in the floor. Am I allowed to ask what you’re doing?

Taliesin stared down into the gap. It was impossible to see anything beyond the rim of the hole.

Could be we don’t really know, Cade said.

Nice. Geraint laughed with only a touch of amusement.

Cade might have joined him in laughter, but he was starting to feel a little too grim about what lay before them. He sat on the edge of the opening before dropping through it to the rough stones that formed the floor of the cave below. Then he reached up to catch first Taliesin’s staff and then the bard himself.

As Cade set Taliesin on his feet, he noted that the bard was sweating slightly. The height again? They’d learned during their time in Arawn’s cave that Taliesin had a fear of them. I wouldn’t have said that was as bad as last time.

It’s always bad, Taliesin said. But seeing as how we’re here now, we might as well keep going.

Geraint leaned into the opening Taliesin had just vacated. I could come with you.

Cade looked up at him. I would feel better knowing you were guarding the fort and our backs.

Geraint nodded, mollified, and removed his head from the hole. Taliesin had already turned away, and the light at the end of his staff lit the small space, about fifteen feet on a side. The cave bore little resemblance to the caverns under Caer Dathyl with their high ceilings and arched corridors. Compared to those, this was less than an anteroom.

Cade pulled Caledfwlch from its sheath, finding the familiar colors that bounced and shimmered off the crystals in the stone walls comforting.

Taliesin started forward, heading into a tunnel that led north from the fort and sharply down. The stones of the walls and ceiling glistened with moisture, and Cade was aware of the tons of rock that pressed down on them from above. It was forty-seven steps, Cade counting them out in his head in case things went horribly wrong and he had to come back in the dark, before the path forked and Taliesin took the right-hand choice. In silence, they descended further into the mountain. If they hadn’t brought light with them, they would have been surrounded by a suffocating blackness. Cade gripped the hilt of Caledfwlch more tightly.

After another twenty yards of careful navigation on the rough stone pathway, Taliesin halted. "So it is here."

Cade peered around Taliesin’s shoulder in order to contemplate what had prompted the bard to stop. Stairs, surely ancient beyond reckoning, led downwards,