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

turned away,
unsure once again what she would do. All she knew is that she refused to cry.
    After a while, Math came into
the tower and gave her the same smile he always did, and the pain came back
sharper than before. Goewin managed to smile back, though, and helped him
remove his armor.
    She avoided his eyes as much
as possible, but she could not avoid them forever. When she finally looked
into the clear blue depths, he frowned and said, “What's wrong, my child?”
    “Nothing,” she said, looking
down.
    “It's hardly nothing,” he
said, tilting her chin up with a finger.
    She kept her eyes lowered.
“It's something I must deal with on my own, my lord.”
    “You will tell me if I can
help?” he asked.
    The compassion in his voice
made her eyes burn, but she swallowed several times and said, “Of course I
will.”
    “You may ask me for anything,
child.”
    Even for you to punish your
heir and his cousin? she wanted to scream. But instead she simply said, “Thank you,
my lord.”
    After the last piece of armor
came off, Math put on a fresh robe, and sighed contentedly. “War is
interesting,” he said, reclining in his throne, while Goewin took his feet.
“But it is—”
    He sat up suddenly. “Who did
this to you?” he demanded.
    “My lord?” Goewin said,
frightened at the anger in his eyes.
    “Who abused you this way?”
    “I— I don't know what you're
talking about.”
    He smiled grimly. “You do
not have to protect anyone. In fact, I hope you would not, because I can tell
that a man took you against your will. I am sure you loved him at one time,
but if he was willing to commit this crime, then you must know that he never
loved you in return.”
    “I never loved him,” Goewin
spat. She struggled to regain her calm. “But I am reluctant to speak his
name.”
    “Why? You have nothing to
fear.”
    “But I do,” she said. She
could feel her eyes burning again, and clenched her jaw. “I do not want to
test your loyalty to me.”
    “Goewin.” He spoke her name
softly, but it drew her eyes to his. “You know that I can find the truth
whether you tell me or not. But I would rather you told me yourself, because
this is not an issue of loyalty. This is an issue of justice. No matter where
the guilt lies, I must uphold the laws of the Creator and men, else I mock my
position as lord of this cantref.”
    “Even if the guilty party is
someone you love?”
    “I said anyone. Do you doubt
my word?”
    She wrestled with it for a
moment longer, but the calm assurance she felt in his presence finally won.
“Gilventhy ap Don did this,” she said.
    “Thank you, my love. I
promised I would not fail you, and now I will prove it.” He cocked his head at
her. “No matter what happens in the next few minutes, do not let go of my
feet, and you will be safe.”
    She swallowed and said, “Yes,
my lord.”
    He seemed to withdraw, as
though he was listening to the winds, but his eyes still glinted dangerously.
A howling storm came through the open windows, growing louder and shaking the tower,
although Goewin could barely feel it. The sky grew dark, and flashes of
lightning arced across the heavens, followed closely by booming thunder.

    Gwydion had just shape shifted
from raven form at the gates of Caer Dathyl when the winds found him. He was
surprised at the strength they had as they pushed him towards Math’s tower, but
he didn’t fight very hard, either. When he walked in, however, he saw that Gil
had; his cousin was pinned to the floor, and his the cords on his neck stood
out as he tried to simply lift his head.
    Math sat on his throne, his
feet in Goewin’s lap, but he didn’t look the least bit relaxed. “Gwydion ap
Don,” he said. “Approach me.”
    Gwydion knew he had little
choice, but he came even with Gil. “Help me,” his cousin said.
    “Quiet!” Math roared. “The
two of you are here on charges of treason and rape. All I want is the truth.”
    “Treason?” Gwydion said. Of
everything