Read Online The Two Tanists (A Bard Without a Star, Book 2) by Michael A. Hooten - Free Book Online Page B

closely.
“Where’d you say you’re from?” he asked.
    “They are great traders from
across the sea,” Adaf said. “Mind how you speak to them!”
    “Eh, fine,” Eynon grumbled.
“Just never seen stallions with such docile temperaments before. Remind more
of well-bred mules then horses.”
    Gwydion could see Cofach
getting nervous out of the corner of his eye. “We train them well,” he said to
Eynon. “These are not war horses, after all, but animals for the riding by
wealthy people.”
    “Sure, that’d explain it.”
    “I understand you have a fine
animal of your own,” Gwydion said. “May I see the famed cow of Dyfed?”
    Eynon turned suddenly
bashful. “She’s not that much, just a good cow with good keeping.”
    He led them to a stall across
from the stallions, opening it with the pride of a father. Gwydion, who was
not that good a judge, watched Cofach. The old chieftain’s nervousness melted
away, as he said, “She is a beauty.” He ran his hands along her flanks, and
began talking about diet, exercise, and grooming. Gwydion smiled at the
enthusiasm in both of them, and felt a pang of sorrow for what he intended to
do to Eynon and the others like him who had no fault in the cantrefs’ feud.
    Adaf looked bored with the
whole routine, and kept craning his neck back towards he stallions. Gwydion
caught his eye, and said, “I have one more request of you. I like to harp to
the horses at night. It helps them sleep better, and keeps them from becoming
irritable.”
    Adaf perked up. “I would
like that very much, Per Grojian.”
    They crossed to the first
stallion’s stall, and Gwydion pulled out his harp before settling down on a hay
bale. “Do you think all them can hear from here? I usually have them gathered
around me, but that seems unlikely, yes?”
    “They should be fine,” Adaf
said absently, staring at the jewels on the bridle. “Are those rubies?”
    “Ah, yes,” Gwydion said as he
began playing. “The green are emeralds, the orange are topaz.” He started a
lullaby, watching Adaf closely, but he had stopped paying attention to both the
harper and the song. Gwydion felt for the curse, and found it all about him.
He began feeding magic into the music, but instead of something to sap the
will, he made the magic as sleepy and soothing as his song. The night began to
quiet around him, and Adaf began yawning widely. The curse tried to rouse
itself once, but could not muster any energy.
    Adaf said, “That is a nice
song.” He yawned again.
    “Please, sit,” Gwydion said.
“I will not be much longer, yes?”
    “Yes, sitting would be
good.” Adaf sat in the corner where he could watch the whole stall including
the door. Gwydion smiled at the warrior instincts, but soon Adaf’s head began
to droop. When he was snoring, Gwydion stood up and crossed the barn to the
heifer’s stall. Both Cofach and Eynon had curled up in the hay, sleeping
soundly. Gwydion looked at the heifer, who stared placidly back. He began
playing again, using the music to keep the curse calm while he worked on his
illusions. After he was satisfied, he woke Cofach, and said, “It’s time to
go.”
    The chieftain yawned and
stretched. “I can’t believe I fell asleep!”
    “I can,” Gwydion said. They
crossed the barn to the stallion’s stall. Gwydion touched Adaf’s shoulder, and
the chief warrior woke with a start. “Can you lead us to our chamber?”
    Adaf jumped up. “Of course,
Per Grojian! Many pardons for dozing off there. I must have been more tired
than I knew.”
    “Think nothing of it,”
Gwydion said. They followed Adaf, who scowled at the number of sleeping kerns
he saw. Gwydion pretended not to notice, and they traversed the quiet halls of
the caer without incident.
    Adaf left them with a curt,
“Goodnight,” as Gwydion and Cofach entered.
    “Many thanks,” Gwydion said,
but Adaf was already walking down the hall, looking furious.
    Gwydion checked on the
company, who were all