The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy (61 page)

Aeron held his hand up to stall Taliesin’s impending interruption
. ‘I have not finished … Furthermore, as Prince of the Winter Realm you should be more concerned with the news set out before us: the Druids have been infiltrated and our stronghold is at risk. Everything we do, everything that is said in the Halls of Maen-Du is at risk of filtering back to our enemy.’

‘Not to mention the fact that should we suffer another assault from Arawn’s forces then we already have his minions ready to strike from within.’ Aeron inhaled deeply, desperately trying to control the fire raging within
. ‘As Prince your duty is here. Set aside Anwen Morgan and her child for the time being and concentrate on how we weed the Druid turncoats from our ranks.’ Taliesin retook his seat, barely containing his own anger. He was no match for his father, so Taliesin seethed in silence.

‘Aeron is right.’ Celyn-Bach filled the silence
. ‘We must first discover how many of the Druids have turned to Arawn’s cause and deal with that threat before any more of us set out to follow Awel.’ He turned to the Elders, who had frozen during Aeron’s and Taliesin’s altercation. ‘Tell me, are there only Druids who have succumbed to Arawn’s cause, or have Chosen too joined his ranks?’

Elder Tom
as exchanged glances while Glyn-Guinea chewed on his answer. ‘I’d not thought of it before. I’ve heard none of the Chosen speaking well of Arawn, if at all. You see, until I discovered the abandoned farms …’ He tried to choose his words carefully, but as was his nature, he spoke from his heart. ‘Arawn isn’t – or should I say wasn’t – a concern of the Chosen. So much has been kept from us, the truth hidden, and with the mirrors being out of bounds, well, the gap between us has widened. We have been kept in the dark regarding the possible threat to us from Arawn, and to be perfectly honest, I still know damn little … what exactly is going on? Who
is
Arawn? What does he want? How do we stop him?’

Gwrnach liked the little man st
anding before him, liked his honesty and so he barked a laugh. ‘Who indeed!’ he said chuckling. ‘You see our error, brothers? We have discounted the Chosen and allowed the gap between their world and ours to grow too wide.’ His face grew serious for a moment. ‘Our fear of Ysbrydion has broken the link between Druid and Chosen. We fear to open the Dderwydd Ddrych and so set the Chosen adrift.

‘I did not know of any Chosen farms being abandoned or the folk there taken or murdered. We looked to our own concerns and allowed the Druids to falter in their duties. I mean no disrespect, Elder Tom
as, Elder Nissyen, but we have allowed the Druids to go about their business as they please and were only interested to receive news of the Ysbrydion or Arawn himself. We even discount the Pride, happy to see them locked behind the walls of the Dell.’

‘The Pride are protected there
,’ Bran barked across the room.

‘Protected.’ Gwrnach snorted
. ‘They are captive. Without voice. Only Awel has had the good sense to break her shackles and do the one thing our broken Triskele does not.’

‘And what is that?’ Aeron raised an arrogant eyebrow.

‘Fight back – act; not react.’ Gwrnach held his ground, unruffled by Aeron’s glare. ‘We are the Triskele. Arawn is nothing, a ghost in a Druid’s ailing body. So why do we cower behind our walls?’ Gwrnach stood up, his belly full of fire and righteousness. ‘I say we take the fight to Arawn. Finish this for the sake of us all.’

Bran stood up too, infected by Gwrnach’s passion. ‘I agree. Let us wheedle out the Druid turncoats and unite against our enemy!’

Rumbles of approval filled the room. Aeron was not to be so easily swayed with such a fervent speech. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs and smiled a cold, calculated smile. ‘And where do we set our battle lines, Gwrnach? We can’t even find Arawn’s stronghold and if he is hiding where I think he is hiding, then our forces cannot reach him.’

That brought chagrin to Gwrnach and Bran who were still st
anding. ‘And how do we “wheedle out the turncoats” without alerting Arawn to our discovery? You speak of Druid turncoats, but what of the Chosen? What of ourselves?’ He waited patiently but as expected, he received no answer. Aeron sighed deeply as he stood. He moved away from the fireplace and towards his balcony, drinking in the view of the mountain range beyond. He turned slowly to address the gathering. ‘Our troubles are many-fold, my brothers. We have built our walls too high just to discover our foundations are weak. We must rebuild. And this is how …’

The Host listened intently as Aeron unfolded his plan. The Elder Druids and the solitary Chosen nodded as they received their instructions.

‘We are not alone,’ Aeron concluded, ‘we have alliances we overlooked. We must unite.’ He drew himself up to his full height, ‘I am the Winter King. Let the skies broil and the mountains quake, the Triskele goes to war.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

Awel handed Gwyn an apple and a wedge of cheese from her satchel as they sat together side by side on a stony outcrop
, looking out across the sea towards the distant horizon, watching the sun slowly rise, changing night into day. Bara was stretched out on the grass, resting her head on her paws as she dozed.

‘Where are we?’ Gwyn asked as he accepted the fruit from Awel’s outstretched hand, rubbing it on his shirt front before biting into it.

Awel consulted the small scroll resting on her knees. ‘According to the map, we are in South Rhedeg, from here we travel to Elmet.’

They had travelled through the night, passing through one
Cerdd Carega to make a short walk to another and so on, until they had arrived on the high, craggy bluff where they now rested. Gwyn found the passing through each Cerdd Carega grew less disorientating with each jump. He still felt the terrible dragging sensation but he no longer felt dizzy and sick. Gwyn wrinkled his nose. ‘I’ve never heard of those places. How old is your map?’

Awel gazed at her map and back to Gwyn
. ‘The map is new, I drew it myself, but the knowledge is ancient. Does that answer your question?’

Gwyn shrugged his shoulders
. ‘Those places – Rhedeg, Elmet – they don’t exist now. That’s all. I don’t know where we are. England maybe?’ He shrugged his shoulders again.

‘The places exist, Gwyn Morgan.’ Awel rolled up the scroll and returned it to her satchel. ‘Only the names change.’

‘That still doesn’t explain where we are.’ Gwyn drew back his arm and threw his apple core away. ‘How far away from London are we?’

‘London? Four, maybe five stones away
,’ Awel answered absently as she stretched her mind outwards, ensuring they were alone on the hilltop.

‘Then what? What if she’s not in London when we get there?’ Gwyn squinted as the morning sun grew brighter, warming the air.

‘We’re not going to Llundain, or London as you name it.’ Awel slowly opened her eyes.

‘Then where
’re we going?’ Gwyn was confused. Awel always confused him.

‘To find Anwen.’ A small smile played on her lips.

‘But I thought Anwen was in London?’

‘Mary was in London
,’ Awel corrected. ‘No-one knows where Anwen is.’

‘So how do we find her? Where are we going?’ Gwyn’s confusion increased
. ‘Do you know where she is?’

‘Peace, Gwyn Morgan.’ Awel held up her hands
. ‘Let me explain … I do not yet know where your sister is – yet. We go in search of someone who can help us find her.’

‘Who? Awel, what is going on?’ Gwyn turned to face her
and Bara lifted her head, tipping it to one side, listening.

Awel sighed before answering, a look of mischief in her eyes
. ‘We go to meet someone who can locate Anwen for us. After that, the rest will be up to you.’

‘Who? Where?’ Gwyn struggled to his feet
. ‘How do they know where she is?’

‘They don’t
… yet.’ Awel opened her satchel and held out a neatly folded envelope. ‘But they will once they have this.’

‘What is it?’ Gwyn recoiled from the envelope. With Awel, you never knew what you were getting.

Awel rolled her eyes and returned the envelope to the safety of her satchel. ‘I have some of Anwen’s hair. I was foresighted enough to pick it up from the Dell when Gwrnach … well, when Anwen was marked as one of the Pride.’

‘The tattoo on her head you mean?’ Gwyn whistled through his teeth
. ‘Dad was fuming when he saw what you lot had done to her.’ He clamped his mouth shut. Thoughts of his father were always accompanied with a crushing wave of grief; even after four years, the pain had never subsided.

Awel dropped her gaze and concentrated on readjusting the satchel strap. ‘She saved the Pride, Gwyn. She risked her life. You
r father would have been proud of that.’

Gwyn cleared his throat and looked out across the sea. ‘You can’t go over it, can you? The sea, I mean, you’re forbidden. Why?’

Awel allowed the silence to stretch between them and closed her eyes, once again stretching her mind outwards, testing, probing - they were still alone. ‘We hold to the covenants. God said that the Nephilim must not cross the seas. He raised them so we became cut off and scattered. I don’t know if there are more of us out there, but if there are, the Druids have not found them … The Bwy Hir stands alone.’

Gwyn sat back down on the dewy grass
. ‘But there are more of you in y Gwag, right? That’s where this Arawn came from – back from the dead. So you don’t really die then – Bwy Hir, I mean – you become spirits and go to y Gwag. Only he’s come back and is mad as hell. Am I right?’

Awel smiled at Gwyn’s simple reasoning
. ‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘Arawn is “mad as hell” and he wants his kingdom back. He wants to replace Aeron and I presume start where he left off many centuries ago, but that tale is long in the telling and we have not the time … Come, we still have far to travel.’

She started to rise, but Gwyn had another question
. ‘Are they all nasty – in y Gwag? Or are there good spirits too?’

Awel was pleased; Gwyn had a bright mind when he chose to use it. ‘Indeed there are good spirits too. Artio among them.’ It was her turn to mourn the loss of a loved one.

Gwyn stood up and Bara followed, wagging her tail as they made their way to the next Cerdd Carega. ‘Awel, when we get where we’re going, will I be able to get some rest? I haven’t slept since the night before last.’

‘Yes, there will be time for you to rest
… if time is on our side.’

‘Good, ‘cause to be honest, I’m bloody knackered.’

Awel laughed in spite of herself. ‘As am I, Gwyn Morgan, as am I.’

They walked on through the early morning, making a straight line through open scrub lands until they came to the next Cerdd Carega. Unlike the others Gwyn had seen, this stone was pale sandstone, older somehow and worn smooth by the elements, even the spiral carved on its face was almost indistinguishable.

Gwyn automatically grabbed Bara’s collar and raised his hand to Awel, ready for the sensation of travelling to begin, but Awel paused, freezing mid step. She turned her head left and right, searching her surroundings and then she saw it, a flicker of movement. Awel was stunned at what she saw – smaller than Helgi, sleeker, faster and more ferocious. ‘It cannot be,’ she breathed. In an instant she spun and grabbed hold of Gwyn’s arm, pushing at the stone with all her will. They vanished.

Awel spun to face the stone as soon as they landed at their destination. Holding up her staff and opening her hand ready to launch an attack at the next thing through, she stood poised to strike. Gwyn stumbled and stood behind her ready to fight, Bara stood at his side, her hackles lining the ridge of her back as she snarled and growled.

‘What is it?’ Gwyn stammered, breathing hard.

‘Something that should not be!’ Awel braced herself
. ‘Cwn Annwn. Hounds from y Gwag. Arawn bred them when he ruled the forests long ago. Artur slaughtered them all after Arawn’s death, sending them to y Gwag
with him. They should not be. They were destroyed.’

‘You’re sure? Can they use the
Cerdd Carega?’ Gwyn asked nervously, tucking himself slightly behind her.

‘They could once.’ Awel stood ready, her voice sh
aking with anticipation. ‘Why do they not follow?’

‘So, you’ve seen them. They are not what they seem
… yet.’  Gwyn spun around to face the newcomer, his fists drawn. Bara spun too. Awel simply relaxed her shoulders, relief evident on her face.

Standing before them was possibly one of the ugliest women Gwyn had ever clapped eyes on. Stooped, emaciated and wearing filthy brown overalls and black wellington boots, the old crone limped towards them. Her hair hung in oily strings around her wrinkled, grimy face,
and her eyes, although sharp, were deep set and hooded. A permanent scowl furrowed her brow and Gwyn was pretty sure that her head held not one tooth.

‘Greetings,
Gwenllian
Gwiddon.’ Awel turned and bowed her head. ‘You’ve seen the Cwn Annwn?’

‘I’ve seen them
,’ Gwenllian lisped, ‘I see you too, Gwyn Morgan of Ty Mawr Farm. You’re a long way from home.’ Gwyn’s jaw dropped open.

Gwenllian huffed a chesty wheeze as she came to stand in front of Awel, twisting her neck so she could peer up at her
. ‘So the rumours are true; Arawn has risen.’ She didn’t wait for an answer; she hobbled back up the path and disappeared between a copse of trees. Awel motioned for Gwyn to follow but Gwyn shook his head. ‘Gwiddon?’ he whispered. ‘Witch?’ Awel nodded her head and raised an eyebrow.

‘What are we doing here? Why don’t we just go before she does something?’

‘What are you expecting her to do?’ Awel didn’t bother to whisper. ‘Gwenllian is the one we were looking for – the one who can locate Anwen.’

Gwyn shook his head again but Awel shooed him up the path. Bara was hesitant to follow until Gwyn whistled for her. Awel followed behind.

‘All the Cerdd Carega are being watched.’ Gwenllian spoke over her shoulder as they left the shelter of the tree and made their way to a small stone cottage huddled on a lonely hillside.

‘I felt no one until now.’ Awel
’s voice was tinged with concern.

‘Why would you? They keep themselves at a distance but they are there. All the sisters have seen them, hiding, watching.’

‘Sisters?’ Gwyn whispered to Awel.

‘The
Gwrachod.’ Gwenllian answered. ‘We watch all the Cerdd Carega outside the Welsh borders. We watch, we wait.’

‘Wait for what?’ Gwyn was intrigued.

‘Gwyn Morgan, you ask too many questions.’ Gwenllian opened the garden gate that led to the cottage. The garden was neatly tendered and given over to all manner of fruit and vegetables. Gwyn recognised the tender shoots of peas grappling towards the wigwam of canes lining the pathway. Carrot leaves and lettuce buds, leaks and marrow, potato leaves and beetroot spouted through the cultivated, rich soil.

Further up the pathway were apple and pear trees, their glossy leaves curling in the gentle breeze and beyond them a blossoming garden where raspberries, strawberries and gooseberry bushes lingered to bear fruit.

‘How do you know my name?’ Gwyn asked, almost bumping into the back of Gwenllian as she paused to kick the mud off her boots before entering the cottage.

Gwenllian half turned and fixed Gwyn with an aggravated stare. ‘Too many questions. Gwyn Morgan.
Distawrwydd yn rhinwedd.’

Gwyn waited until Gwenllian had entered the house before grumbling under his breath, ‘Silence is not one of my virtues. Flamin’ woman.’

‘No it is not,’ Awel said, as she stooped under the doorway and entered the house, leaving Gwyn to follow behind her blushing while Bara looked on, wagging her tail.

The cottage was much larger on the inside than it looked on the outside. The kitchen they entered was large and centred around a warn pine table strewn with herbs, bowls and a scarred chopping board grazed from use. Wooden stools were neatly tucked under
the table and Gwenllian offered them a seat. ‘Before we get down to business, let us have a nice cup of tea.’

Gwenllian moved around the kitchen, gathering earthenware mugs from the drainer as the kettle boiled. ‘All the
Cerdd Carega are being watched along the borders. I can’t say for the stones in the interior, but on the borders, they’re being watched. I presume they are watching for Anwen Morgan?’

‘Possibly.’ Awel pursed her lips
. ‘Probably.’

‘The
Cwn Annwn, or what look like Cwn Annwn, they’ve been sniffing around the Cerdd Carega for days now – filthy things – but they are not the otherworldly creature of lore, these are of this world; they cannot travel through stones, and they can be destroyed.’

‘You know this?’ Awel leaned forward, accepting a steaming cup of tea. Gwyn
took his proffered mug, sniffing it suspiciously before sipping. The tea was black and bitter, but it was wet and warm and Gwyn was grateful.

‘One of sisters shot one only two days ago. It was harrying her sheep.’ Gwenllian slurped her tea
. ‘As for whether they can travel through the Cerdd Carega, no-one has seen one do it, nor has anyone seen Arawn himself, the Cwn Annwn are always with Seekers.’

‘Druid Seekers?’ Gwyn blurted, almost spilling his tea.

‘They are dressed as such and they are Human, so I presume so.’ Gwenllian pursed her lips and glared at Gwyn. ‘Questions.’ She turned to Awel. ‘There is something you should know. My sister who watches in Caer swears the Cwm Annwn are accompanied by a devil, she swears it.’

‘She swears true. Arawn has Wraith Warriors with him, they came from y
Gwag during the assault on Maen-Du.’