The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy (45 page)

‘Just copy it down and we’ll let the
Druids decide.’ Glyn-Guinea sat down on the only chair in the room and waited for Bryn-Wisgi to reappear. ‘Maybe I should have gone through,’ he said aloud, ‘God knows what gossip Bryn is bleating to them.’ He tutted and ground his teeth on his pipe.

Dafydd stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited for Bryn’s return. He wasn’t going to be fobbed off and that was that. He’d go through himself if necessary and demand the return of Anwen.
What’s keeping him?
Dafydd was getting impatient. They waited for a few more minutes and then Dafydd announced, ‘I’m going through!’

He stood in front of the mirror and took his amulet out ready to press against the glass, but he was beaten to it; the surface misted
and became insubstantial and Bryn’s face appeared. His expression will always be etched in Dafydd’s memory: as he came through the mirror his expression was passive and business like but just at the point where his body was leaving the mirror a sudden look of alarm changed his expression.

Instead of completing the transition from the mirror into the room, he was pulled backwards, slowly at first and then more persistently as he struggled. A look of sheer horror etched his face as he was pulled back.

Dafydd rushed forward and grabbed at Bryn’s hand but it was to no avail. Red and black wraithlike hands grabbed at Bryn’s face and chest, pulling him backwards into the mist. Bryn screamed and Dafydd lost his grip on his hand. Dafydd went crashing to the floor and Bryn disappeared. The mirror quietened and then returned to its solid state showing the reflection of three horrified faces. Selwyn, Glyn and Dafydd stared at their own reflections, their mouths hanging open, their eyes wide and their pallor the colour of fallen snow. Bryn-Wisgi was gone.

‘Open the bloody mirror!’ Dafydd sprung to his feet
. ‘We’ve got to get him back!’

Selwyn grabbed at Dafydd
. ‘No! Keep it closed!’

They tussled with each other, wrestling each other to the floor, grunting and gasping. Glyn-Guinea was slow to react, but he eventually came to his senses and stood, whacking both of the men with his walking stick. ‘Get up you fools,’
he ordered, whacking them a second time for good measure. ‘We must tell every Chosen, the mirrors are deadly, everyone must block up their rooms! Come, spread the word!’ Glyn-Guinea hobbled into action and the others followed. ‘Take Bryn’s car,’ he cried to Dafydd, tell everyone, Selwyn and I will do the same!’

‘What about Bryn-Wisgi’s wife? She’s serving
at the bar.’ Dafydd turned to the bar entrance. ‘What shall I tell her?’

‘Damn it.’ Selwyn blustered, ‘You go Dafydd and take Glyn, I will deal with this.’ He squared his shoulders and entered the bar.

Dafydd and Glyn rushed to Glyn’s beaten up old 4 x 4 and they jumped in. Glyn-Guinea may be slow on his feet, but in a car he was a demon and drove like a man possessed. Dafydd clung onto the dashboard as Glyn swung the car in reverse and accelerated out of the car park, skidding on the slushy snow as he stormed up the road. ‘Go to Dai’s,’ Dafydd shouted over the roar of the engine, ‘his son can help spread the word!’

Dafydd clung on for dear life as they sped through the country lanes. Bryn’s horror-filled face kept flashing in his mind and Dafydd fought down a wave of nausea.

They arrived in Dai’s yard, Glyn slammed on the brakes and the car skidded to a halt. Dafydd jumped out as Dai’s wife came out of the house to greet them. ‘What’s going on?’ she called, wiping her hands on her apron, her face etched with concern at their sudden and unexpected arrival.

‘Where’s
Dai? Where’s the boys?’ Dafydd yelled over to her.

‘In the fields,’ she answered
. ‘Why? What’s wrong?’

‘Which fields?’ he slammed the car door and paced towards her. ‘The lower fields.’ She pointed and Dafydd took off in that direction
. ‘What’s wrong?’ she called but Dafydd ran through a gate and was off.

By the time he found
Dai and his son, Dafydd was breathless and cold. Dai was driving the tractor and trailer and his son was throwing bales off the back. ‘Dai!’ he wheezed, as he ran towards them waving his hands.

Dai
spotted him and turned the engine off. ‘What’s the bloody matter now?’ He jumped off the tractor and walked towards his friend.

Dafydd leaned over and inhaled deeply, trying to get his breath back
. ‘The mirrors,’ he panted, ‘Bryn … the Ysbrydion … we must warn all the Chosen.’

‘What?’
Dai scratched his head. ‘What are you on about?’

‘Bryn went through his mirror, but when he tried to come back
… the Ysbrydion pulled him back in – I saw it Dai, it was horrible.’ Dafydd finally succumbed to the burning in his stomach and leaned over and retched.

‘Where is he now?’
Dai was trying to make sense of what Dafydd was telling him. Dafydd wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Dead most proably, Dai. I saw it, me and Saw-Bones and Glyn-Guinea, we all watch it happen. I tried to pull him back – I tried.’ Dafydd sat down in the snow and hung his head between his knees.

Dai
stood with his hands in the pockets of his green padded jacket, his wellington boots crunched in the snow as he shifted his weight and looked over his fields, trying to absorb what Dafydd had just told him. ‘Bloody bastards,’ he growled through clenched teeth, ‘they knew, they bloody knew!’ He kicked at the snow. ‘The Druids knew about the Ysbrydion but played it down and now look what’s happened! Get up Dafydd! Jump on the trailer, we’ve got to warn everyone!’

He grabbed at Dafydd’s hand and hauled him to his feet.
Dai started the tractor and waved away his son’s shouts. ‘Hold on!’ he shouted over to his son and friend as he accelerated up the hill towards the farmhouse.

Glyn-Guinea already had hold of the phone and was calling everyone he knew
. ‘Spread the word!’ He hung up and swung towards Dafydd and Dai as they rushed into the house. ‘No answer from the Williams or the Creuddyn’s farms, we’ll need to get word over in person, Gwyn’s not answering your phone either,’ he said to Dafydd.

‘Take the tractor, Dafydd.’
Dai threw the keys at his friend. ‘We’ll contact the Williamses, you get to the Creuddyns.’

‘No.’ Dafydd planted his feet and threw the keys back
. ‘You’ll have to do it, I need to get to Gwyn, we’re going to Maen-Du.’

‘What?’
Dai couldn’t believe is ears. ‘How? Do you even know where the entrance to the Druid Halls is?’

Dafydd hadn’t thought that far ahead. ‘I do.’ Glyn-Guinea piped up
. ‘Come on, I can take you.’ He grabbed his walking stick and made for his car.

‘You’re both bonkers!’
Dai called. ‘Be careful!’ he shouted as an afterthought.

Glyn-Guinea started the engine
. ‘We can’t use the mirrors and the Druids need to be told what’s happened. That’s why I’m going to Maen-Du – what you do when we get there is your own business.’

‘Agreed.’ Dafydd put on his seat belt and clung on as Glyn sped out of the yard and back onto the lanes.

Gwyn saw them coming as they sped up the lane between the fields. At that speed, he knew something was wrong and so he hurried down from the top field to meet them with Bara bounding ahead of him.

‘Get in!’ Dafydd called as Glyn brought the vehicle to a standstill.

‘Where’re we going?’ Gwyn asked as he jumped in the back and slammed the door behind him, wrestling Bara for a seat as Glyn-Guinea reversed, just missing a stone wall.

‘I’ll explain on the way,’ Dafydd shouted back at his son
. ‘Put your seatbelt on – we’re going to get Anwen.’

‘Yes!’ Gwyn pumped the air with a fist
. ‘About bloody time!’

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Anwen woke to find herself in strange surroundings.
Am I in hospital?
she thought to herself. She was in bed and there were green curtains surrounding her. The place smelt clinical and sterile, but there was an underlying aroma of damp.

She sat up in bed a
nd winced as she moved her leg and it all came flooding back: the huge Bwy Hir, the Druids, the fire and arrows.
Where am I?
‘Hello?’ she called out in a timid voice. ‘Anybody there?’

She heard footsteps and the curtain parted to reveal an old man dressed in a habit:
a Druid,
she thought and shrank back in her bed.

‘Ah, you’re awake,’ he said
, in a reedy but kindly voice, ‘good, good. How are you feeling?’ He stepped up to her bed and placed a cool hand on her forehead. ‘You certainly look better.’

‘Where am I?’ Anwen followed the man’s every move; she presumed he was a doctor of some sort.

‘You are in the Infirmary of Maen-Du,’ he answered as he peered over his spectacles. ‘How is your leg?’ he asked.

‘It’s fine
… thank you.’ She pulled the blankets tight around her chest as she noted she was naked.

‘May I check your stomach?’ he asked patiently
. ‘After such a nasty fall I’d like to check the health of your baby.’

‘I’m naked
,’ Anwen said bluntly, feeling her cheeks beginning to heat.

‘Your clothes were dirty and blood stained.’ He shook his head
. ‘Let me find you something.’ He shuffled off and Anwen heard drawers being opened and closed, he returned and handed her a linen shirt. ‘It will be too big, but it will save your modesty.’

She wriggled it over her head and once her chest was suitably covered, she pulled the blankets down to reveal her swollen stomach.

The doctor gently pressed against the sides of her stomach. ‘You are quite advanced,’ he said with a frown as he probed and pressed. Anwen pushed his hands away and hurriedly covered her stomach. ‘Did I hurt you?’

‘No.’ Anwen pulled the covers closer
. ‘I’d just rather you didn’t – I mean, I’m fine, really, thank you.’

‘May I at least check the wound on your leg?’ The physician waited patiently with his hand
s clasped in front of him. Anwen nodded her head and the physician lifted the blanket from the bottom of the bed to reveal her legs, one of which was swollen and bruised under a sterile dressing.

The physician carefully unravelled the bandage and gently touched her calf muscle
. Anwen flinched. ‘The arrow pierced straight through the muscle. A clean wound with no signs of infection. Your stitches will be removed in a few days or so, until then you will need to stay off your feet.’ He carefully redressed the wounds and tenderly tucked the sheet and blanket back under the bed.

‘Where is Taliesin?’ Anwen asked
, as the physician finished tucking her in.

‘The
prince?’ The physician shrugged his shoulders. ‘With his father I would imagine.’

‘When can I go home?’ Anwen felt tears welling up in her eyes and the physician patted her gently on her hand. ‘Soon, I’d imagine,’ he replied, ‘you need to rest for now.’ He ducked behind the curtain and was gone
, leaving Anwen feeling lost and lonely in her little cubicle.

Anwen tested her leg. It was incredibly painful and her calf muscle felt tight and leaden. She placed her hands on her swollen belly and began to fret. The physician had said she was “quite advanced”, but she wasn’t even half way through her pregnancy yet;
how big am I going to get?

Anwen let the tears fa
ll, perhaps Mary had been right; perhaps she should have stayed away. When she woke up she had expected Taliesin to be by her side but she was alone, forgotten, in a strange place. She wanted to go home.

The curtains parted again and for a moment Anwen’s heart lifted
. ‘Taliesin?’ But another strange face greeted her. He was dressed the same as the physician and was of similar age. Anwen’s heart sunk.

‘Anwen Morgan?’ Elder Tom
as peered at the forlorn little waif burrowed in her blankets. ‘Oh dear child, don’t cry.’ He produced a handkerchief from his robe and passed it to her. She gratefully accepted the offering and blew her nose and wiped her eyes. ‘May I come in?’ he asked gently and Anwen nodded.

H
e perched himself on the end of her bed. ‘Well, well, what a sorry sight you are!’ Anwen burst into tears again. ‘Oh dear, I’m sorry child, I do have a tendency to say the wrong thing, especially with women, I’m afraid I’ve had little experience with speaking to women – I meant no offense, I just meant that you look, well …’ He spread his hands and Anwen smiled a small wan smile.

‘Let me start again.’ Elder Tom
as leaned forward and extended his hand. ‘Anwen Morgan, my name is Elder Tomas and it is a pleasure to meet you.’

Anwen shook his hand and smiled through her tears. ‘Well, that was a better start, wasn’t it?’ He smiled and Anwen gave a little laugh. ‘Good,’ he said, ‘I’m getting better at this already!’ He released her hand and sat back, shifting his weight on the bed. ‘Now then, I am here to bring greetings from Taliesin ap
Aeron Ddu, Prince of the Winter Realm.’ Anwen blinked at his formal title. ‘He apologises for not being at your bedside but I’m afraid his attention is required elsewhere.’ Anwen’s shoulders slumped and her bottom lip began to wobble. ‘But, never fear, he will be here as soon as he can. I’m afraid you find us all in turmoil at present.’ Elder Tomas tutted and seemed lost in his own thoughts for a moment.

‘Elder Tom
as?’ Anwen said timidly, ‘Can I see my father? Can I go home?’

Elder Tomos sighed
. ‘At present the answer to your questions must be no.’ He fretted when Anwen’s tears began to stream down her cheeks. ‘But, that is not to say you can’t see your father, or go home for that matter, what I mean is there is no way to contact your father at present.’ Anwen looked confused. ‘There is a small problem with the Dderwydd Ddrych, I’m afraid we cannot use the mirrors at present … do you know about the mirrors?’ Anwen nodded. ‘I see … I can try and arrange for a message to be taken to your father via one of our Seekers, would you like that?’ Anwen nodded again, more enthusiastically this time. ‘Good.’ He stood up. ‘You get some rest and I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Thank you.’ Anwen sighed and Elder Tom
as vanished behind the curtain again. She could hear him talking in a low voice, presumably to the physician. She couldn’t hear what was being said but a few moments later the physician reappeared with a cup and handed it to Anwen. ‘This is a pain killer and a mild sedative.’

‘I’d rather not.’ Anwen tried to pass the cup back but the physician was insistent. ‘It is harmless,’ he assured her, ‘and your leg will begin to throb as the local anaesthetic wears off, please drink it.’

Anwen looked into the cup at the thick brown fluid swilling within it and then she upended the cup into her mouth, grimacing as the liquid slid down her throat. She handed the cup back to the physician and swallowed a second time, keen to get the foul taste out of her mouth. Almost instantly she felt her muscles relax and her eyelids grow heavy, the physician watched as she slowly slipped into a heavy sleep. ‘Good.’ He nodded his head. He left her bedside and returned to Elder Tomas. ‘She sleeps,’ he confirmed.

‘Poor child.’ Elder Tom
as sighed. ‘What is to become of her?’

‘That will be for the Bwy Hir to decide
.’ The physician rinsed the cup and replaced it on a shelf. ‘Though I wonder, can it be true? Is she really carrying a Bwy Hir child?’

‘That is what I am told and you are to keep that to yourself.’ Elder Tom
as warned and the physician nodded.

‘Will they return her to her family?’ the physician
inquired.

Elder Toma
s pursed his lips. ‘Maybe, but not until she has fulfilled her duty.’

‘Can a
Human use the Cerdd Carega?’

‘She is slightly more than
Human, my friend, or at least as I understand it, but whether she can use the stones remains to be seen.’

‘Is it safe for her to even try, especially considering the problem with
y Gwag?’

‘Aeron insists she tries, but who knows the risks?’ Elder Tom
as sighed again. He was so very tired at present. ‘Poor child.’ He shook his head and patted his friend on the shoulder. ‘Look after her. I will check back later if I get the time.’

Elder Tom
as left the Infirmary and made his way to the Hall of Mirrors. There had been an incident earlier that had the Hall in unrest; one of the Chosen had made an appearance through a mirror, yet on his return to his home the mirror had behaved unusually. The mists had turned suddenly red and black, closing quicker that it should have. It was unknown whether the Chosen had returned home safely and as yet the mirror had not been reopened. For the safety of all, Elder Tomas had forbidden any mirror to be used until it could be ascertained whether the Chosen had returned safely.

That meant a
Druid had to be escorted through the Cerdd Carega to the nearest point of the village by a Bwy Hir and from there, travel on foot to the Chosen’s home. Taliesin had been selected for the duty and as yet they had not returned with the news. Elder Tomas hoped the Chosen was unharmed; they did not need further unrest between the Chosen and the Druids.

‘Anything to report?’ Elder Tom
as asked the Druids on duty in the Hall. Every mirror was being monitored by a single Druid and they in turn by more Druids who had assembled tables, chairs and reams of paper to note any anomalies. The Hall buzzed with activity as each event, anomaly or happenstance was recorded, checked and where possible, countered. White sage was being burnt and a thick, pungent smog hung just above the ceiling.

Counter runes were scrawled on every surface, the chanting of incantations echoed through the hallways. This unprecedented state of affairs had the entire brotherhood shaking in their cowls.

‘We have summoned the king.’ Elder Nissyen presently observed the scores of Druids as they worked. ‘A number of mirrors have received some sort of assault.’

‘What?’ Elder Tom
as was dumbfounded. ‘What do you mean “assault”?’

‘Something is striking at the mirrors.’ Elder Nissyen’s face looked worried, he did not take his eyes off the mirrors as he spoke
. ‘Twelve bangs have been noted on three of the mirrors, one of the mirrors being Ty Mawr’s … something is trying to break through, I am sure of it.’

‘How can this be?’ Elder Tomas w
rung his hands. ‘Afagddu could not have killed that many people! The Ysbrydion cannot be that strong – this makes no sense.’

‘Elder Tom
as!’ A young Druid flew shouting into the Hall. ‘You must come! Prince Taliesin has returned and our Druid is hurt!’

Elder Tom
as spun on his heels and rushed after the young Druid. They hurried into the Reception Hall where Taliesin was standing with the Druid sent to gather news from the Chosen. ‘What has happened?’ he barked.

Taliesin stood apart from the
Druid and turned to Elder Tomas. ‘I am unharmed, but he has received … cuts.’ He pointed to the Druid who stood on shaking legs. ‘and the Chosen we sought did not return, he is lost in the mirrors.’

T
he injured Druid held up his right arm, three clean, long, paper thin cuts covered his forearm. They trickled with blood but did not look deep. ‘How did this happen?’ Elder Tomas inspected the cuts.

‘He was fine when we entered the
Cerdd
Carega to return but when we arrived here, the cuts had appeared. What does this mean?’ Taliesin was concerned, the Cerdd Carega were considered safe … until now.

‘Come.’ Elder Tomas waved them
to follow him. ‘We must advise the king.’ They rushed to the Hall of Mirrors where Aeron and a number of the Host stood over the Druids, deep in conversation. Aeron looked up as they entered.

‘My Lord,’ Elder Tom
as said, bowing, ‘more bad news – a Druid has sustained injury whilst travelling through the Cerdd Carega and the Chosen did not return home – he is lost to y Gwag.’

Aeron looked grim
as he surveyed the cuts on the Druid’s arm. ‘You are unharmed?’ he asked Taliesin.

‘Yes,’ Taliesin
said, nodding, ‘but I carry a protective rune.’ He lifted his arm to show the small stone rune dangling from a leather cord attached to his wrist. ‘Celyn-Bach thought it prudent.’

‘And he was right.’ Aeron turned to Elder Tom
as. ‘See to it that every Druid wears the same.’

Bran, Gruff and Gwrnach exchanged looks
. ‘The Cerdd Carega are no longer safe? What of the Pride? They slumber on the other side of a Cerdd Carega – they must be woken!’ Gwrnach fretted.

‘Indeed.’ Aeron looked to his son
. ‘Fetch the girl. There is no time to lose.’

‘But,
my Lord,’ Elder Tomas intervened, ‘she can hardly walk and she is under sedation – she sleeps as we speak.’