Read Online The Beauty of Destruction by Gavin G. Smith - Free Book Online

bards who sang of his victory across the land. More warriors from the different tribes had come to join the fight, following stories of glory, magics and power. They could scarcely credit the stories told by those who had lived through the wicker man and the children of the Muileartach’s onslaught.
    ‘Act like a rhi long enough and everyone starts to believe you,’ Britha said quietly to herself, her lips curving up into something that came close to a smile. She had to admit to liking the Witch King, even having a degree of respect for him, but he was dangerous because he was greedy and too ambitious. However well intentioned he might be, he wanted to tell others how to live. That could only end in war.
    She had been aware of Tangwen’s approach for some time now. The small, wiry warrior scrambled onto the outcrop with her.
    ‘Did you climb up here?’ Tangwen asked. There was disapproval in her voice but the hunter also sounded and looked tired. She had gone into the valley ahead of Bladud’s warband with the scouts. Britha knew that the younger woman was doing just about anything that didn’t require her to take time to think, or sleep.
    ‘I am pregnant, not crippled,’ she told Tangwen. ‘Where is the chalice?’
    Tangwen managed a raised eyebrow at the change in the conversation. ‘Germelqart has it.’
    ‘And if some of the warriors decide that they want it?’ Much of their conversation these days seemed to be about the chalice and its whereabouts.
    ‘They will need to be stronger than me, faster than me, and more cunning than a snake to keep it, and if so then they deserve it. It would not be good for Bladud to hear you taking such an interest in the chalice,’ Tangwen warned. Britha suspected that her constant enquiries were making the other woman nervous. Britha glanced at Tangwen. She smelled of leather, and sweat and the cold earth.
    ‘I will be discreet with my enquiries and speak with only those who I trust.’ Even though they will not, can not, trust me , she left unsaid.
    ‘Look at these fools,’ Tangwen spat. The warband was slowing. Starting to form into a rough circle as they prepared to camp for the night. The hunter and warrior were staring at a number of chariots struggling over rough ground; some of them had to be carried by the landsfolk. Britha laughed.
    ‘Warriors have to have their trappings,’ Britha said. She understood the reason for it but often wished they could be more practical.
    ‘This is no terrain for chariots,’ Tangwen muttered. Britha had agreed with Feroth on the matter of chariots. The only good terrain for them was a really flat beach. Though even then the chariots hadn’t done the Cirig much good. They could hear shouted commands and landsfolk being bullied in the frigid night air. The ban draoi glanced up the valley.
    ‘There’s flat ground further to the west,’ Britha pointed out.
    ‘Bress will not fight us in open battle. He is not like other warriors; he seems only to do that which will bring him victory, no matter if it’s the right thing or not,’ Tangwen said. She glanced over at Britha. ‘But you would know that better than me.’ Britha suppressed the urge to flinch, as if the younger woman had slapped her. ‘He will fight from the fort on the Mother Hill, or in Annwn itself. There’s not much reason for him to leave Oeth.’
    The first snowflakes drifted down out of a darkening, pregnant sky. Tangwen looked up at the older woman.
    ‘Are you still a dryw ?’ she asked, and then glanced down at Britha’s stomach.
    ‘As much as Bladud is a rhi ,’ Britha said, angry despite herself. Once she would have castigated Tangwen but she understood why the other woman had asked the question. And still dryw enough to be asked to conduct a wedding ritual , she thought . Though she had been the second that Bladud had asked. Guidgen had refused. There was only so much humiliation that he would put up with.
    ‘I have not forgotten what I swore to