NaNoWriMo - Cymru 9

Ha ha, I am Mistress of passages with no clear end. And I don't care! Hahahahaha!


AWEN

Tregwylan was stunningly beautiful. It was Awen's first thought as she guided Brân down towards the Landing Tower below, giving her a superb view of the City from above. The rain harvesters were gleaming in the sunlight, all gold and bronze and funnels to direct the excess water away to the choppy sea below, while the inner courtyards shone in verdant contrast to the open hydroponic tanks of growing vegetables. Almost every window sported window boxes of growing onions, many accompanied by billowing sheets left out to dry. Far below a long wooden harbour jutted out into the sea, accepting the trading vessels from the mainland bringing flour and meat. Cormorants with ringed necks swooped in and out of the fishing towers at each corner, carrying their catches back to their handlers.

At the runway Brân sort of dropped the final metre, simply folding his wings and letting them fall before they landed neatly on the carpet. He tossed his head petulantly as Awen sighed and reined him in. He was such an embarrassment.

A pair of stable hands bustled out, robes impeccable. Awen noted it instantly.

"Rider," said one, a woman with thick, wavy blonde hair that had been carefully pulled into a neat arrangement at the back of her head. "Welcome to Tregwylan! My name is Carys. May I assist you?"

"Thank you," Awen said. "My meraden thinks he's a dog. Be warned."

Carys laughed vacantly, and led her in. Brân kept trying to dance sideways as they went, and Awen let him. If she was expected, as it looked like she was, then really they should have been warned of Brân's behaviour. Also it put Awen into a distinctly uncharitable mood, and this 'Carys' had a stupid laugh.

Once inside they undid her harness for her on the top level, and Awen obligingly hopped off for Brân to be led into one of the top stables. She understood the message. She wasn't impressed. As the other stable hands clustered around Brân Carys turned to her and smiled.

"This way please, Rider," she said, and set off down the ramp without a backwards glance. Awen followed, looking around for further clues of her expected arrival. Every corner of the tower had been brushed and cleaned, but that in itself may have meant nothing this soon after a festival. There was a notable absence of the usual organised chaos of a Landing Tower, however, which definitely was out of the ordinary. At the bottom Carys pushed open the massive door to the City and led them through.

Inside Tregwylan was even more beautiful than out. The corridor-streets were wide and stone paved, supported at regular intervals by twisting pillars carved to look like waves and the walls decorated with coloured glass and enamel in greens and blues. Periodically pipes from the rain harvesters could be seen travelling down the walls, carrying the water to the lower level streets. A few shops were set off the streets, bakeries, chandleries and expensive-looking cobblers that occasionally gave way to the courtyards Awen had seen from above. Carys walke calmly through it all, not pointing out anything. She made a poor guide.

They were just turning onto a particularly elaborate corridor which Awen suspected led to the Sovereign's Residence when a Rider materialised in front of them, Deputy Alpha Wing status emblazoned across her arm and a yellow poppy behind her ear. She smiled at Awen, a genuine smile that lit up her face, and Saluted.

"Rider!" she said happily. "Welcome to Tregwylan! First time?"

Awen Saluted back. "First time," she smiled. "I don't get out much. It's beautiful, though."

"Ah, you're saying that," the Rider said, waving a hand, "but you're only looking at the rich bit. The lower levels don't look like this, I can tell you. Would you like a tour?"

"I'd love one," Awen grinned. Carys cleared her throat firmly.

"I'm afraid, Rider," she began. The Rider cut across her.

"Oh, shut up, Carys. I'll get her to wherever she needs to be, go back to the stables. I'm Talar, by the way," she added to Awen as Carys slowly backed off, given them both a deeply uncertain look. "And you're Awen, I know. Casnewydd Alpha Wingleader."

"Should I be worried?" Awen asked bluntly as Carys rounded the far corner and left them alone in the street. Talar gave her a wry smile.

"I doubt it, from what I've heard. No," she shook her head as Awen opened her mouth. "I know what you meant. Come this way."

She led them out of the street, across a courtyard through children playing and bards singing, past more shops and down a ramp that led to the next level. It didn't look so different until three levels later, when they hit the top of the poorer areas. The streets were suddenly crowded with peasants going about their lives, trading from market stalls in the middles of the corridors and darting in and out of much cheaper-looking shops. Talar led them to a harness-makers in a dark corner; inside, she nodded to the owner and slipped past a curtain into the back. Awen followed. This didn't look good. This suggested conspiracy.

Inside it was tiny and surprisingly warm. Talar perched on the small desk and motioned Awen to the room's only seat, which she took and folded her arms.

"Well?" she asked quietly. Talar smiled.

"You're right," she said. "Lady Gwenda knew four days ago to expect someone important; presumably she knew it was you, I don't know. When did you know you'd be coming?"

"Yesterday," Awen sighed. "Any idea how she knew? I ask with particular reference to either Casnewydd or Caerleuad."