PROLOGUE (second book)

When the city was in sight, Artúr could not believe his eyes. He had never seen something like that. It wasn't perched on the top of a hill, as he would have expected. A high stone wall stood in front of them in a square shape, just there in plain view on the flatlands. There were some timber houses in the open space outside the stone walls, and they looked different than any building of Dál Riata. Everything here was so strange.

The town itself was enclosed inside the walls. When they finally got close, from the cart Artúr could admire a great arched gate.

Just in that moment, he saw a group of people walking out through the gate. They were all well-dressed and some soldiers were also with them. The soldiers were wearing some kind of leather armors in a similar fashion to the guards who were escorting Artúr and the monks.

Caimir, the boss of their escorting guards, rode ahead of them and joined the well-dressed people just outside the gate. The other guards, and the same cart where Artúr and the three monks were sitting, followed Caimir. 

Only then, when he saw all those strangers, Artúr suddenly missed his mother. Until that moment, he had been excited about the new adventure. He knew that they were bringing him to his uncle, and in his heart he had thought that if his uncle was waiting for him, then his mother must have been there too. But now, watching at each and all the faces of the women and men in front of him, it was crystal clear that Mother and Father were not amongst them. He felt a sudden urge to cry.

Brother Serf, the oldest monk, grabbed his arm: "See that man with a dark blue cloak and the fine lady next to him? Those are your uncle Prince Riderch and your aunt Princess Languoreth. Do you remember that you have met them before?".

"No, if it happened I don't remember", Artúr answered.

"And that impressive big man next to your uncle, that is the King of Rheged, Urbgen Pendragon, together with Queen Modron", the monk carried on, as if Artúr had not spoken.

They got off the cart, the four of them, the three monks and Artúr, who could now hardly keep from shaking.

When they were close enough to the group of well-dressed people, it was the huge bearded man who spoke first: "The town council of Cair Ligualid and I, King Urbgen Pendragon of Rheged, welcome all of you!".

The monks answered some greetings in return, but Artúr remained quiet: nobody had told him what to say. What were they expecting for him to say or to do? He was only eight years old after all, he didn't have a clue!

He was feeling on the verge of tears. In that moment, the man with the dark blue cloak and his lady got closer. Next to them was Caimir, the boss of the escorting guards.

"You have grown Artúr, since the last time I saw you", said the man. Artúr could not figure out if he was friendly or not. "Do you remember me?", he added.

In that same moment, Artúr looked at the blonde lady next to the man, and he realised that he had seen the lady's beautiful and sad eyes before.

"Oh, I think you remember more your aunt Languoreth!", smiled the man. "And I'm your uncle Riderch, we met maybe four of five years ago. It seems like a long time ago, now", he said with a pensive tone.

"Artúr, you have become a little man", intervened his aunt, empathically.

Artúr already liked her, and for a moment he even wondered if his mother was maybe sister to Languoreth rather than to Riderch!

But then he finally decided that he had to answer: "Lord Uncle, Lady Aunt, I am happy to come and visit you. I bring you the greetings of Father and Mother".

Riderch sneered, while Languoreth's expression looked kind of sad, but they both simultaneously answered: "Thank you".

In the meantime, the big King Urbgen had walked to them, and he spoke: "I am sure all of you must be tired from the travel. Let's go inside, everyone deserves a rest, and we will have things to talk about", he said staring at the monks.

Once they had walked through the huge arched gate, the guards left their horses at the stable, and all of them, including the king, walked through the town.

Artúr was mesmerized by what he saw: squared stone houses, people dressed in strange fashion and colors, paved streets. He noticed that some of those squared houses hosted workshops: here a bakery, there a butchery... Everything was so different from his homeland!

His aunt Languoreth was walking next to him. "Artúr", she told him, smiling, "when we arrive at the house you can rest and then you will meet your cousins Custennin, Gwladus and Acgarat. Custennin is a boy about your age, while Gwladus and Acgarat are his younger sisters. You will spend a lot of time with them, you will have fun!".

Artúr was feeling strange. For the first time since he had left Abbot Colmcille's abbey, he found himself wondering why they had brought him here. His father had sent him to study at the abbey, and now some strangers had carried him along to this strange town. And Father and Mother were not here.

Who was this King of Rheged? The only nice person was Aunt Languoreth. What those people wanted from him? Why was he there?

Among all those people, the only person Artúr had seen before, at the abbey, was the olive-skinned monk. Artúr remembered that his name was Leo or something like that. Despite being a foreigner, he was the only link with the place where Artúr had studied in the past year. He wanted to talk to him and ask him why they had come there.

But when they arrived in front of a big, majestic squared building, their ways parted: the monks followed the king with his uncle and the soldiers, while Artúr had to follow his aunt, together with other ladies. Only two guards walked with them, through a separate entrance into the building. 

Inside it was darker, and now, suddenly, he couldn't keep from feeling scared by those guards: maybe they were there not to protect him, but to watch him closely. Were Languoreth and Riderch even his aunt and uncle, or were they just pretenders?

Maybe he had been taken as a prisoner or hostage! Or maybe... they wanted to sell him as a slave?!

Artúr started shaking. The darkness in that unusually narrow and long corridor was a very bad omen to begin with.