A Blink of an Eye Read online

  Blink of an Eye

  Book 3 of The Cup of Blood Series

  Troy A. Hill

  TH Media

  Copyright © 2018 by Troy A. Hill

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover Design by Troy A. Hill

  Images via Deposit Photos

  Created with Vellum

  For Carol

  Thanks for letting me play with my imaginary friends

  Contents

  Welsh Pronunciations

  The Teulu

  1. Unwelcome News

  2. They Walk Again

  3. Glyphs

  4. Damages

  5. Discussions

  6. Home

  7. Theatrics

  8. A Timely Arrival

  9. Trials

  10. An Angel

  11. Pain of death

  12. Suspicions

  13. Conversations

  14. None of That

  15. Training

  16. Another Family

  17. A Flight

  18. Tomi

  19. Healing

  20. Dreams

  21. Another Dance

  22. Glyphs Again

  23. Mornings

  24. Protections

  25. Patrols

  26. Enid’s Story

  27. A Meal

  28. The Feast

  29. The Dead Walk

  30. For Penllyn

  31. I give you your life

  32. Aftermath

  33. A Voice in the Dark

  34. I'm Sorry

  35. Conversations

  36. Another Trial

  37. Manacles

  38. Judgement

  39. Old Friends

  40. Bait

  41. Sword of Light

  42. Dance with the Dead

  43. For Love

  44. A Man of Honour

  45. The Errand

  46. The Lady’s Lake

  47. Love Wins

  Please Leave a Review

  Welsh Pronunciations

  Throughout this series I’ve opted to use modern Welsh words in place of old Brythonic variants.

  Any errors in word use or selection are solely mine. Variations in northern and southern Welsh accents are not included in this guide.

  Below is a limited guide to some of the spellings and pronunciations you will find in this series.

  Welsh Pronunciations: In Welsh, all letters are pronounced, even when it appears impossible to do so. Vowels typical are pronounced in their “soft” forms with a few exceptions:

  A as in man

  E as in met

  I is a hard E sound, as in Queen

  O as in hot

  U is a hard I or E sound, as in Pita

  W (yes, it’s a vowel in Welsh) is the double O sound, as in Zoo

  Y has several variations:

  Alone it’s usually pronounced uh as an article: y caer (the fortress)

  Within a word, it acts as a Welsh U

  Double Vowell Dipthongs:

  Ei, Eu: as ay way

  Ow: long O as in tow

  Ae, Ai, Au: as the y in my

  Ywy: as in the ui in Fluid

  Other Welsh Sounds:

  dd: pronounced as the TH sound

  Bleddyn = Blethun

  Rh: to pronounce this, reverse the sounds. H then R, and trill or roll the R

  LL: This is the “dreaded” Welsh sound, and is almost unique to the Welsh language. To pronounce this sound, place your tongue against the roof of your mouth, as though you’ve finished the sound of “EL”, then blow as though you’re pronouncing the beginning of the “H” sound. Add in the “EL” sound. This sound has also been described as pronouncing an L with a th in front of it.

  FF: is F as in fan

  F: is V as in Avon (Welsh pronunciation of “Afon”)

  C: is always hard, similar to the K in English, as in “Cat”

  CH: as in the Scottish “Loch”

  Names in Penllyn

  Mair: Ma-ir

  Neirin: Nayreen

  Rhian: Hrrian

  Rhos: Hrross

  Bleddyn: Blethun

  Owain: O-wine

  Fadog: Va-dog

  If you are a native Welsh speaker, and notice any flaws in the above, please let me know via email: [email protected]

  The Teulu

  If you enjoyed this story, there is more.

  Please sign up for my mailing list. When you sign up, I’ll send you a link to download the prequel novelette, To Run At Night.

  I won’t share your information, and you can unsubscribe at any time. Emails usually go out about twice a month. During a new release, you will see a few extra messages.

  Subscribers will receive sporadic emails about new releases, discounts on books, and various give-away groups the Penllyn folks are a part of.

  Visit CupofBlood.com to become a member of The Penllyn Chronicles Teulu

  1

  Unwelcome News

  “How’s Ruadh?” Bleddyn asked.

  We had barely made it back through the mists to Caer Penllyn, before Bleddyn, ensconced in his chambers upstairs, insisted we head up to report in. Based on the lap full of wood shavings, he had been focusing his impatience on an innocent block of wood. Another toy for his impending grandchildren.

  Fortunately, Gwen had the foresight to heal Ruadh back at the cave where the rogue shifter disappeared. Bleddyn’s impatience for news wouldn’t have allowed her the time to do so once we returned.

  “Angry, but alive,” Gwen said. “I healed the worst of the burn and dulled the pain for him with The Lady’s magic. He is downstairs swapping stories with Afon. They have already killed one of your mead jugs. You may lose a few more jugs to get him over the pain of that burn.

  “He’s earned that and more, from the sounds of it,” Rhian added. She glanced around Bleddyn’s chamber. The dark wood was stained with soot from the meagre hearth in the centre of the room. Years of touches on the carved wooden furniture kept it sleek. Horses, the primary export from the cantref, were carved in both simple and ornate patterns on almost every chest, chair, table and bed frame here. Through a door to the side, Rhian’s own chambers matched. Hers had more fabric and a feminine touch than Bleddyn’s, though it was just as fine with its trappings.

  Gwen sat sedate, opposite Bleddyn and next to an energetic Rhian. Lady Penllyn leaned forward in her chair as we told our stories. Her hands were twisting the fabric of her skirts or toying with the arms of the chair.

  Despite the fight with the werebear we had just returned from, I wanted something more sedate than battling ancient dead warriors. I had retrieved my sewing, and let the dress drape across my lap. I moved the needle back and forth through the fabric. The act was almost as calming as running sword meditations. Despite the large size of Lord Penllyn’s chambers, there wasn’t enough room for a full set of those.

  Across from me, Emlyn poured a mug of mead from Bleddyn’s own jug. His twin swords, Corff and Medwyll, Body and Mind in the Cymry language, still hung from his belts to either side of his chair.

  “Why did the beast want your sword?” Rhian asked me.

  I shrugged. “It’s not every day a werebear sees a glowing sword that can cause wounds that won’t heal quickly. I’d try to take it too, if I faced one.”

  “And magic arrows,” Bleddyn said as he sent another sliver of wood cascading into his lap. “Someone is flinging flaming arrows of magic around Penllyn. I’d like to know who.”

  We all would, but none of u
s had answers.

  A rap at Bleddyn’s door broke the silence. Cadoc rose and opened it to reveal Sawyl, escorting a man dressed in mud-streaked leathers. A sword hung from a baldric across his body. His hair was a light brown, as was the moustache above his lip. His eyes darted nervously around the room. Evidently he hadn’t expected a visit to his lord’s private chambers.

  “Pedr, come in,” Bleddyn said. Pedr, the first sword of Mechain. The head of their guard, under the Penteulu. Just as Gerallt was First Sword here in Penllyn, under Emlyn. Pedr had been with Lord and Lady Mechain when they attended Cadoc and Enid’s wedding.

  “Yes, milord,” Pedr replied, his body stiff, attentive. He looked nervous. Unfortunately, for second in charge of Mechain’s war-band, he didn’t carry himself like a fighter. But, not every leader was in their role because of skill. Ruadh had told me, back at Cadoc and Enid’s wedding, that Pedr had gotten his post due to politics. He was probably a relation to Lord Mechain, or one of his top retainers.

  “You need to hear his report, Milord.” Sawyl said.

  Bleddyn waved them in. He pointed to the jug of water on a side table.

  “Have you had a chance to get a drink yet?”

  Pedr nodded.

  “He had a mug or two when he told me and Gerallt his tale,” Sawyl said. His face was expressionless, yet gave me a creeping sensation, like ice cold fingers grasping my spine. We had just learned of one major complication, and now another was about to fall into our laps.

  Bleddyn motioned Pedr to begin.

  “I just rode in from Nant Bywyd,” Pedr began. “The gates of Hell have opened and the dead are out of their graves. They walk in the night.”

  We were all silent. No one seemed to want to share our experiences. Pedr glanced around, clearly expecting a much stronger reaction.

  “What exactly happened?” Emlyn prompted him.

  “Last night, the bones of ancient warriors marched from village to village on the Penllyn side of the border. They drove the folks away in terror. Any man who stood against them fell to their spears and swords.” His face had lost colour as he no doubt relived the memories of what he had witnessed.

  “I coming back from delivering a message, and saw the villagers running. I tried to rally the men of the next village. We didn’t believe their tales, until we saw them with our own eyes.” He looked down at his feet. I glanced down as well. The dress I had intended to work on lay spread out across my lap. I had tucked my needle into the sleeve to listen to his report. On the outside I probably appeared calm. Inside, however, I felt a cold chill spreading. The attack against us wasn’t the only time the dead walked Penllyn.

  “Skeletal warriors with the old swords, like from the age of Buddug,” Pedr’s voice caught, then continued. “They were mere bones. Arrows and spears had no effect on them. Went right through them. Clubs worked best. Smash them to bits was all we could do. I set the women folk and children to pray for deliverance and kept the men armed and the defences set.”

  He swallowed hard, then set his eyes back on Lord Penllyn. Bleddyn’s colour might have paled a bit. Dealing with a rogue lycanthrope didn’t seem as fantastic when compared to the dead warriors attacking Penllyn’s people directly.

  “The prayers did little, and the women and children ran when they saw the dead. Me and the men, those who didn’t break and run… we worked as their rear guard until we got to the next village. The one where Lord Dewi has built a hill fort on the Mechain side of the border next to Lady Seren’s lands. They set the men to watch with orders to fall back into Lord Dewi’s fort if the dead approached. Lord Mechain wanted you to be aware, so I volunteered to deliver the report.”

  “When did these attacks begin?” Bleddyn asked, his eyes fixed on the guardsman.

  “A night ago, milord. The folks from the first village…” Pedr paused and reached for a cup. Once he’d had a swallow or two of mead, he continued. His eyes darted nervously about those of us in the room. “The villagers, they said once the moon was in the sky last night, they heard the first screams. As the moon rose so did the dead.”

  “How was our daughter? And Lord Dewi?” Rhian asked.

  “Fine but worried,” he said. “Lord and Lady Mechain had come to visit. The villagers were fortunate that we were in the area with men. I had been out on an errand and was on my way back when I heard screams of the villagers running fleeing the dead.”

  “Go get some rest.” Bleddyn patted the man’s shoulder. “You did well with unusual times. We’ll have plans laid by morning. Will you be able to go back and show us?”

  Pedr straightened.

  “Of course, milord.”

  “Good man,” Bleddyn said. “Now go get some food and rest.”

  “Keep this news to yourself,” Emlyn added. “Let’s not start a panic in the keep.” Pedr agreed then spun to leave.

  Emlyn’s eyes shifted toward me. There was a haunted look there. I knew him well enough now to understand that not much that scared him. He even understood my nature, thanks to his time with my brother of the undead, Aemi. But my kind of undead wasn’t what we faced now. Undead that marched in numbers across Penllyn. Walking corpses, some with flesh, others just bones. Undead that would send normal people running. Undead that don’t seem to care who they attack. Mindless. Following orders? But whose orders? How large was this army? Who led them? Why were they here?

  I knew why I was here. To protect Penllyn, my new home. To protect Gwen and Emlyn, and the people here I had come to love.

  But an undead army? Even Emlyn and I standing together would have a bad time with that. Two of us, against an army of skeletons, and walking corpses that didn’t know how to die? The situation had just gotten a lot worse. And neither of us really knew what to do.

  2

  They Walk Again

  The morning sky was overcast. In the narrow slit between cloud and earth, the eastern sky shifted from deep blue to light red, almost the colour of fresh blood. I shifted and leaned in for the touch of Gwen’s body against mine as we sat on the front porch of the keep.

  “You look sad,” Gwen said, stirring a trio of blueberries around on her plate.

  “The grey skies. I was getting used to the sun again,” I said with a tinge of disappointment. Her goddess—I mean our goddess—fed me the energy that allowed me to walk in the sunlight like a mortal now.

  “Oh, Mair,” Gwen said and pulled me in for a one-armed hug. “Our land gets grey skies often. But, I can see why you’d relish the sun after all that time without it.”

  Down in the courtyard, Sawyl and his men mounted up and rode out the gates. Afon, with Llinos’ cloak over his shoulders, glanced back at us. His long blond hair hung loose to his shoulders in stark contrast to the deep blue tones of his new cloak. With a wink, he mouthed the words “Live by the sword…” His expression slid to a grim one as he turned back to face the road down toward Nant Bywyd, and where the dead had attacked.

  I finished the rest of his oft-used expression. Die by the sword. But what did it mean when the enemy weren’t alive themselves?

  Bleddyn, Lord of Penllyn, had agreed with Emlyn, his Penteulu or captain of the guard, last night. They were sending Sawyl and a party of half a dozen men across the southern border into the cantref of Mechain to aid our allies in the defences there. Sawyl would lead the party, with Afon as his second-in-command. The armies of the dead had attacked two villages, driven the survivors into the brin, the local word for a small fort, at Nant Bywyd. The walking corpses and ancient skeletons then vanished into the night.

  The door to the keep opened and Emlyn stepped onto the porch, along with Pedr. Fortunately, Lord Mechain and some of his teulu had been at the brin when the attacks occurred. Ruadh hadn’t seemed very impressed with Pedr’s weapons skills. Neither had Emlyn. The way that Lords had to find leadership positions for relatives and well connected sons of retainers explained why someone with Pedr’s lack of talent with weapons had become second to Mechain’s Penteulu.

>   “Ready?” Emlyn asked Gwen and me. His tone was back to his usual sharp snap.

  “Yes.” Gwen set aside her empty plate.

  Pedr looked around, puzzled.

  “No horses? Do we not ride with the others?”

  “You’ll get used to it,” Emlyn said, his face bland. “Lady Gwen is an excellent guide and will get you to Mechain far faster.”

  I rose. Soul swung into view. Pedr raised an eyebrow at the blade.

  “Should we not,” Pedr asked, “have more men go with the ladies?”

  The Penteulu’s face cracked a rare grin. “Perhaps Lady Mair will give you a lesson in sword dancing while you’re out with her.”

  Pedr’s spine stiffened at the implication. “I’m first sword of Lord Mechain’s guard.” Pedr motioned to me. “You’ve taken her on as a student?”

  “No.” Emlyn said. Emlyn seemed to enjoy Pedr’s confusion. “But Lady Mair has taken Sawyl and Lady Enid on as her students. You haven’t been here to see them on the practice field most mornings.”

  Pedr shook his head, then hoisted his pack over his shoulder. “I’ll do my best to protect you,” he said.

  I said nothing. No reason to damage his ego, unless something attacked us. Then his ego would be the least of my worries.