The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy (5 page)

CHAPTER NINE

Afagddu stormed through the Halls of the Druid, hidden fury barely contained behind his iron mask of outward calm, kicking his robes before him as he charged towards his destination: the Kennels.

Incensed by the incompetency of those around him, he descended upon the Kennel Keeper with malice. ‘Where is the Seeker?’ he bawled, spittle flying from his snarling lips.

The Keeper shrank back in terror; you never crossed y Gigfan – the Raven. ‘I sent word to you Elder
Afagddu, the Seeker has not returned, only his two hounds returned in the early hours of this morning,’ he stammered.

‘No
t returned? A Seeker of the Druid just vanishes into thin air?’ Afagddu’s voice dripped sarcasm. ‘
My
sources tell me his charred remains were found in a Chosen’s barn,’ he screamed, ‘and you cower before me flippantly exclaiming that he’s simply missing! We have lost a Druid
and
a potential new hound and no-one seems to know why!’

The Keeper practically swooned at the onslaught. ‘Had word not reached me that you are
the best Keeper these Halls have ever had I would strike you down where you stand, however …’ Afagddu resumed a presence of calm. ‘The fact the hounds returned to the kennels is a testament of their superior training for which you should be congratulated … I suggest you send a pack of hounds to hunt down whoever killed one of our own and discover why this has happened on the lands belonging to King Aeron’s chosen donor. I blame the foxes, they forever harry our hounds, the Pride must have sent them – find out!’

The Seeker nodded his ascent and babbled promises of immediate action. With one final intimidating glower Afagddu gave a curt nod and left the Seeker quaking in his boots.

‘Well that takes care of one problem at least,’ Afagddu said to himself. ‘With an entire pack of hounds on a wild goose chase and harrying the queen’s precious foxes it should leave ample opportunity for him to spin his next web.’ It was unfortunate that Afagddu had lost an accomplice; the Seeker had been very helpful, very willing. Afagddu had almost felt sorry for the Seeker and the stupid babbling Keeper, or at least he would have if he had a shred of humanity left inside him.

Smiling to himself, Afagddu lumbered his way up the central stone staircase towards King Aeron’s chambers. The sun was setting and he knew this
was where Aeron would be, watching dusk claim one more day of Summer’s dwindling reign.

Afagddu
was breathless from his exertion upon reaching Aeron’s richly decorated antechamber. Heavy tapestries lined the walls; threads of gold and silver depicting hunting scenes and battles won. Woven rugs the colour of fresh blood decked the pitted stone floors and golden sconces adorned the walls, casting a rich flickering glow into the deepest shadows.

Afagddu felt a cold breeze blow from under the bedchamber’s stout oak door and swirl pas
t his feet. So, Aeron was wind casting again – he must be getting stronger.

So was Afagddu. Not in the kind of power Aeron wielded, only Bwy Hir wrought celestia
l power. Afagddu’s power was knowledge and domination, a most formidable combination if used shrewdly, and he wanted more.

Afagddu
stood head and shoulders above his peers. He had literally clawed his way from the bottom, gaining authority and influence quickly, rising through the ranks, shaping and guiding the Druids’ collective to new dominance and power, shattering all opposition, destroying enemies one by one, mercilessly and deviously. He knew he was hated and feared by many, avoided by all, but he didn’t care, he had power. Spinning webs within webs, he was an accomplished schemer. ‘
Perhaps I would be better named
y pry cop
,’ he mused; the Spider was a far more apt name than the Raven.

Afagddu
rapped on the chamber door with his misshapen hand before admitting himself. Aeron was out on his huge rugged balcony, the doors thrown open to the elements. His back was to Afagddu facing out towards the mountain range beyond. Standing in a crucifix, his arms thrown wide, his head thrown back, lips pulled back in a silent snarl, Aeron looked magnificent as clouds billowed down the mountains at his command.

Aeron was a lot stronger than Afagddu had expected. Well beyond wind casting, Aeron was already forcing
the elements to his will. The Winter was going to be extremely harsh this year, Afagddu grinned peevishly.

Reaching the presumption that Aeron may be some time, Afagddu retraced his steps to the antechamber to wait. Taking a seat on one
of the bardic chairs lined against the far wall, he allowed himself the indulgence of fantasy.

There were always rudiments to his fantasies that remained unaltered. In his dreams his spine was uncoiled, he always stood tall and proud. All his imaginings were violent in one way or the other, and every time he returned to reality he would always seek out someone on whom to inflict pain.

This particular fantasy involved killing Aeron as he stood on his balcony casting. Afagddu imagined raising his hand and calling forth the derwydd yn tân
with all his might and burning a hole through Aeron’s midriff while his back was turned. In his mind’s eye Afagddu watched Aeron stumble forward with the force of the blast and as he turned clutching his ruined chest, Aeron, his eyes full of pain and disbelief would with his dying breath whisper:
‘why?’

‘Why what?’ barked Aeron
from the doorway to his chamber. He glared at Afagddu with mistrust. ‘And why are you sitting there with derwydd yn tân
in the palm of your hand, Afagddu
?’

For a moment Afagddu stared down at his hand in confusion before willing the flame to be extinguished. Closing his hand into a fist, he looked di
rectly in Aeron’s eyes and lied. ‘I’m sorry my Lord, I lost myself for a moment. I bring dark tidings. The Seeker I sent to Ty Mawr has been killed and the family’s barn has been destroyed. What is worse, the Seeker was inside the barn and we have been deprived of a hound – I was imagining what I would do if I caught the persons responsible for upsetting your chosen donor when you disturbed my thoughts. My sincere apologies my Lord, it will not happen again.’

Aeron was looking for the lie but saw none, so he patted his
councillor on his twisted shoulder and motioned for him to enter his chambers. ‘We are diminishing are we not, Afagddu?’ Aeron strolled to the huge fireplace built into the walls of the mountain and with a nonchalant glance caused the logs within to erupt into flames. ‘All the Triskele are fading; Chosen, Druid and the Bwy Hir alike. We are being punished through every age, Afagddu. We keep the covenant, and yet the heavens rain down their retributions but we will not falter!’ Aeron spoke with conviction. ‘We will not falter, will we Afagddu? We will
all
keep the covenants, won’t we Afagddu?’

Afagddu
felt a sensation he was unused to: angst. So he slipped into an auspicious demeanour of compliant servant. ‘We shall always keep the covenants, my Lord,’ Afagddu answered with equal vigour. ‘Our duty is to serve the Bwy Hir, follow the path of true knowledge, guard the Chosen, and pledge our lives to the service of our rightful masters.’

‘Good,’ Aeron crooned.
‘You remember your vows well. Are we not worthy masters, Afagddu? Did we not bestow upon you the most illustrious of gifts? The derwydd yn tân
you so expertly wield
,
knowledge beyond your wildest imaginings, did we not shelter you from the onslaught of the Romans and their Christian beliefs, did we not bestow upon you the delay of death?’ Aeron’s eyes flashed dangerously, cruelly.

‘We are ever grateful to the Bwy Hir, my
Lord.’ Afagddu’s bow was low and servile, his eyes fixed on the floor in front of him. Why was Aeron baiting him?

Aeron studied his
councillor a moment longer before turning his back on him and returning to his balcony to observe the veils of cloud gathered at the mountain peak as they began to blacken and boil. ‘I feel strong,’ he said over his shoulder, ‘a full moon is rising. Prepare a feast and call my brothers, I would meet with them this night.’

‘As you command.’ Afagddu bowed once more before parting on silent feet.

Aeron inhaled the cooling, crisp evening air deep into his lungs, inhaling and exhaling, savouring each breath. He closed his eyes to the resonance of the horn blast reverberating through the valleys. His brothers were being summoned. Autumn had been declared.

Riding on the wind the call was lifted up and away, rippling over the hills and mountains, through field and vale carrying its message far and wide.
Down it sped to the shores of Llanberis Lake, throbbing through the darkest waters to the hidden caves beneath, reaching the sleeping occupant cradled within. Gwrnach’s sparkling eyes snapped open, his black plaited beard splitting to show a broad toothy smile.

On it flew to the Coed y Brennin forest, sweeping through the trees and skimming the forest floor until it pierced the mossy mantel of Cadno’s lair, where he stirred and stretched luxuriously.

On and on, rushing, rippling. Gwydion, Gryff, Brenig, Llud and Celyn-Bach were the next to hear the call, yawning and stirring from their slumber. Last to be summoned was Bran, short tempered and inimical, he growled at the intrusion and flexed his fleshy fists. Its purpose complete, the call faded into the darkening sky, spent and silent.

Afagddu
wiped the spittle off his lips as the last note faded, carried away on the evening breeze that blew through the saddle of the mountains.

Druids were
sent scurrying in all directions in preparation for the arrival of the Bwy Hir soon to descend upon the Halls of the Druid.

The vast kitchens housed in the lower floors sprang into action. Cooks and lackeys alike bustling to stoke fires and prepare a feast magnificent enough to sate the most ravenous of the assembly just woken from sleep.

To call the male Bwy Hir from slumber this early was rare and Afagddu couldn’t fathom the reasons for Aeron’s sudden haste. Afagddu flinched at the knot in his stomach. Aeron had unsettled him, his new found strength and sudden vitality were disturbing enough, but this new guile and peevishness was unnerving and Afagddu hated how it left him feeling so vulnerable.

Afagddu descended from the bartizan and made his presence felt in every nook and
cranny of the halls below. Nothing would go wrong tonight, everything would be perfect for the reunion of the Bwy Hir Host, he would see to it himself. He would give no reason to anger Aeron further. Afagddu hadn’t missed Aeron’s deliberate display of power as he’d dismissively lit the fire – his antagonistic reminder of the vows undertaken by every Druid initiate and the barbs hidden within every Bwy Hir bequest. He ground his teeth in vexation; he preferred it when Aeron slept.

Afagddu strode past
the Hall of Mirrors and twisted his head to watch Druids passing in and out of the ranks of mirrors fastened to the walls. He was always drawn to the marvel of glass melting into mist and solidifying to reflect the perfect moonlight shining onto each mirror from the ingenious system of angled reflective plates rigged in perfect angles up through the ceiling to reach the open sky far above their heads to reflect the sky back down to each of the Druid mirrors that had a twin in every Chosen house. These were the doors to the Chosen; a Druid could be standing in a Chosen house in a second by simply walking through the misted mirror to the other side. These were another gift from the Bwy Hir and although they were a poor cousin to the Cerdd Carega, they were invaluable to the Druids nevertheless.

Satisfied nothing was amiss in the Hall of Mirrors, Afagddu continued on into the Great Hall to oversee the preparations personally. Berry
-sprinkled garlands were draped from the huge candlelit iron sconces suspended from the cavernous ceiling. A roaring fire blazed in both fireplaces set at each end of the hall, barrels of beer and mead were rolled into position against another wall next to tables laden with bread, cheeses, fruits and cold meats.

A feast of venison and swan was being prepared by the most senior of cooks, the less
er relegated to preparation of the copious quantities of accompanying vegetables.

The most accomplished bards would be summoned to entertain later in the evening and the sound of harps and strong tenors in song could be heard echoing through the
Halls as they rehearsed.

Ten oversized seats were placed around the huge oval oak table that dominated the centre of the room
. Eight were high backed and richly carved and the ninth was a throne set at the head of the table where Aeron himself would sit. Afagddu would be in attendance, inconspicuously waiting in the shadows behind the throne ready to do his master’s bidding should it so be desired. The remaining chair, smaller than Aeron’s but no less adorned was reserved for Taliesin and positioned directly across the table at the opposite end.

This early preparation had Afagddu off balance. He decided the most prudent course of action was to put his plans on hold, at least for now. He would bide his time, he was patient when necessary. Afagddu tasted the bitter tang of disappointment when he realised the Morgan boy would now get to live, at least as long as the
Solstice, but after that? Well Afagddu would have to wait and see. The boy had won only a reprieve, and that brought Afagddu at least some solace.