The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy (63 page)

CHAPTER TEN

Awel listened to Gwyn’s fitful mumblings from the kitchen table. He slept a troubled sleep and she had considered waking him from his nightmares more than once, but he needed to sleep. He needed all his energy for the journey ahead.

While he slept, Gwenllian prepared a hearty stew and Awel watched her work, envious of Gwenllian’s culinary prowess. She had no need to learn to cook for herself; the Tylwyth Teg catered for the Pride’s needs, and if necessary, when visiting
Maen-Du, the Druids prepared their repast. ‘Who taught you to cook?’

Gwenllian shrugged
. ‘My mother, I suppose, and my grandmother. What they didn’t teach me I picked up along the way.’

‘Is it rewarding? The skill of cooking, is it a joy?’ Awel picked up a sprig of
rosemary from the chopping board, inhaling the aroma.

Gwenllian chuckled
. ‘Sometimes, but mostly it’s a necessity.’ She placed a lid over the large pan that was just beginning to simmer. ‘Do you wish me to prepare some food for your travels?’

Awel replaced the
rosemary. ‘A pack of something for Gwyn Morgan, if it’s not too much trouble.’

‘Nothing for you?’ Gwenllian asked as she studied Awel.

‘I will not be travelling with him, as I know you have already guessed.’

Gwenllian nodded. ‘Do you wish me to call my stoutest sister?’

Awel smiled. ‘You have read my thoughts. Yes, make the call. Two sisters, though; one as a guide and one as his disguise … tell them to wear hooded cloaks, it will be raining come sunrise.’

Gwenllian slipped from the room and made a phone call. The sisters would arrive by nightfall and that gave Awel time to plot her next moves.

‘The stew will be ready soon.’ Gwenllian moved to the stove and stirred the pan with a large wooden spoon before replacing the lid. ‘Shall I wake the boy?’

‘Not yet, let him rest a while. He has a long journey ahead of him and I do not relish our impending argument when he discovers we must part ways.’ Awel turned her head to listen to Gwyn’s steady, rhythmic breathing.

‘Do you believe he can deliver the girl and the child safely to you? Can he protect himself? Can he protect them?’ Gwenllian’s voice held a tinge of doubt.

‘He has a stout heart. He will do whatever it takes to protect what is left o
f his family.’ Awel lifted her eyes and fixed them on Gwenllian as she spoke. ‘And
I
will do everything in my power to protect them too.’

Gwenllian dropped her eyes and turned to concentrate on the stew. Awel turned to the window to concentrate on raising a rainstorm.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Cadno was sweating. He had tried every angle to dissuade Aeron from taking the entire Host to the Dell. ‘We’ve all bared our chests. Why do we all need to go to the Dell? Who will watch after the Druids? What if there is an emergency here, how will the Druids reach us?’

Aeron listened to Cadno
’s ceaseless opinions with increasing lethargy. ‘Cadno, end your senseless wittering. We all meet at the Dell. All of us.’

‘But it’s not all of us. Awel will not be there
,’ Cadno countered, ‘What if she arrives here while we are gone? What if she needs our help? Someone should stay.’

Aeron rolled his eyes
. ‘You know as well as I that the first place Awel will go on her return is to the Dell.’

‘But still-’

‘Enough, Cadno.’ Aeron raised his voice and fixed Cadno with a glare. ‘We all go.’ Cadno, suitably chastised, removed himself from Aeron’s chamber, petulantly leaving the door wide open in his wake.

‘What has got into him?’ Gwrnach lifted his head from the
game of Gwyddbwyll
he was currently losing against Bran. ‘He’s been as tetchy as a badger for days now.’

‘Perhaps he does not wish to face Linn
- after all he failed to attend the Solstice when she was matched as his mate.’ Bran chuckled and Gwrnach’s face split in a huge smile. ‘Yes, yes, what did he call her? Oh, yes, a wet fish.’ They both burst out laughing.

Aeron ignored their jesting, he had more important things on his mind. He stood
. ‘If I am needed, I will be in the Hall of Mirrors with Celyn-Bach.’ Without a backward glance he left his chambers, leaving Gwrnach and Bran to their game.

He met Elder
Tomas halfway down the stairs. ‘Councillor, you bring me news?’ Aeron peered down the flight of stairs where Elder Tomas was leaning heavily against the oak bannister, struggling to catch his breath.

‘It has begun,
my Lord. The census commences tomorrow morning, we will begin with the Seekers first. The call for all Druids to return to Maen-Du will be issued this very evening.’

‘Good. And those who do not heed the call?’

‘They will be named Gwaradwyddedig and the Seekers will be issued with warrants for arrest.’

Aeron was satisfied. ‘You have done well, Councillor.’ Elder
Tomas waved away the compliment. ‘Yet, you look tired. Are you taking the draught from the physician?’

Elder
Tomas shook his head. ‘No. It gives me heart palpitations. I can manage well enough without it.’

Aeron studied his little
Councillor. The Druid was a hard worker, a clever thinker and above all, he was honest and true. Aeron laid his hand upon Elder Tomas’ head and briefly closed his eyes. The power flooded into Tomas and he gasped, wide eyed as a cold rush flooded through his body. He sagged as Aeron removed his hand.

‘See the
physician. Receive the draught. Your heart is healed.’ Aeron continued down the stairway. Elder Tomas stood on shaking legs. He felt renewed, revived and younger somehow. ‘Thank you!’ he called down the stairs. Aeron ignored him.

Celyn-Bach greeted Aeron as he arrived in the Hall of Mirrors
. ‘Blessed timing Aeron – you must see this,’ he said excitedly, motioning towards the rank upon rank of mirrors lining each and every wall. A group of Druids were rushing back and forth, some bent over the tables as they scribbled and scribed, some using magnifying glasses to peer into the mirror that held their fascination.

Aeron held back and instead of joining Celyn-Bach, he began closing and barring the doors to the
Hall. Celyn-Bach stood passively as Aeron moved from entrance to entrance until all five doorways were barred. The Druids working in the Hall of Mirrors stopped their labour and watched nervously as each door squealed in protest before closing with a resounding boom.

Once the last door was barred, Aeron spun to face the Druids. ‘Come forward
,’ he demanded. ‘Form a line in front of me.’ The twelve Druids shuffled forward, nervously glancing at one another. Celyn-Bach came to stand beside Aeron. ‘You will all bare your chests to me. Strip.’ Aeron folded his arms and waited.  Some began to immediately do as they were commanded, removing their robes and unlacing their undershirts, others followed suit more reluctantly, until eleven Druids were standing bare-chested and confused, shivering in the coolness of the Hall. One stood away from the others, nervously licking his lips, fully dressed and ready to take flight. 

Aeron shared a knowing look with Celyn-Bach as he unfolded his arms. ‘You were commanded to strip, Druid.’ Aeron’s predatory gaze fell on the nervous man
. ‘Why have you not done as your brethren and bared your chest?’ 

All eyes were fixed on the clothed Druid as he took a step back, his eyes darting from side to side, looking for a means of escape. Aeron struck. Lightning quick, he raised his arm and unleashed a torrent of icy air, throwing the Druid against the wall and pinning him fast. Aeron stalked towards the Druid as he struggled against his bonds, thrashing his head from side to side whilst drumming his feet.

Celyn-Bach ordered the remaining Druids to stand fast as they watched on in astonishment at Aeron’s unexplained outburst.

‘Answer me,
Gwaradwyddedig!’ Aeron roared. ‘Explain to your brethren why you hide in your black robes?’ The Druid continued to struggle, panting and flexing as he strained to break free, as the pressure altered, pinning his arms and legs to the wall, pressing against his throat, releasing the pressure on his chest. Aeron smiled wickedly as he called behind him, ‘Celyn-Bach, if you would be so kind.’

Celyn-Bach walked purposefully towards the pinned
Druid, releasing a knife from his belt as he approached. The Druid’s eyes grew wide in panic, his panting altered to heavy, ragged gasps. Grabbing a portion of robe from the Druid’s chest, Celyn-Bach sliced it neatly in two, cutting through the undershirt, careful not to cut the skin beneath.

The branding was evident, an angry, infected scar above his left breast: a horned skull. ‘Behold
,’ Aeron called to the bare-chested Druids huddled together, craning to observe the drama. ‘He bares the mark of Arawn. This
Druid
,’ he spat the word, ‘is a traitor and a spy.’ The Druids’ surprise was evident by the assortment of stunned, angry and bewildered faces. ‘The rest of you may dress.’ They obeyed, heads bowed, remaining silent while casting furtive glances towards the traitor.

The patient knocks at the barred doors had begun the moment Aeron had raised his voice and had now become insistent thumping. Celyn-Bach moved to the nearest door and called through that all was well. The thumping halted.

‘What shall we do with him?’ Celyn-Bach asked as he replaced his knife. Aeron glared at his captive who had slumped against his bonds, resigned, trapped and silent. His eyes were closed, he looked almost asleep. Aeron marvelled at how old the Druid was; well into his twilight years and yet he had been susceptible to Arawn’s call. ‘Can you take his mind, Celyn?’

Celyn-Bach sighed and looked into the face of their prisoner. His mind was the strongest of all the Bwy Hir, yet despite being deft, he hated The Touching, hated removing one memory and fusing it with his own. He was also repulsed by the empty husk that remained after The Touching. He swallowed before answering, ‘I can if I must.’

Aeron turned to the Druids huddled together in the centre of the room. ‘Look upon your brother and learn what fate awaits all those who rise against the Triskele.’ He nodded at Celyn-Bach who reluctantly raised his finger, extending it towards the traitor’s head. The Druid’s eyes snapped open and he fought with all his might to escape his bonds. ‘No! No!’ he shouted as Celyn-Bach’s finger touched his forehead. Immediately the light drained from his eyes, his jaw slackened and his body became limp. Celyn-Bach withdrew his hand, wiping it on his tunic. His skin crawled with revulsion as the Druid’s memories, everything he’d known and learned, settled in a compartment of his mind. ‘It is done.’ Aeron released him, letting the body slump to the floor.

‘Call the Seekers. Let what remains of him be caged in Dduallt.’ Aeron turned to the remaining Druids as Celyn-Bach opened one of the huge double doors, swinging it inwards as the hinges shrieked defiance. Beyond the doors dozens of faces filled the hallway, Elder
Tomas’ among them. Celyn-Bach bid him enter while issuing orders for the Seekers to attend, before reclosing the doors.

Elder
Tomas rushed to the Druid lying discarded; resembling an unwanted ragdoll as he lay propped up against the wall, legs splayed and eyes vacant. ‘What has happened? Oh, no.’ He saw the mark and pulled the sliced edges of the robe together to hide it.  ‘Is he the only one?’

Aeron nodded. Elder
Tomas spun on the remaining Druids. ‘What you have seen here will not be repeated. I want your oaths on it.’ He spun back to Aeron. ‘And what am I supposed to tell all those waiting outside the doors?’

‘Ysbrydion,’
Celyn-Bach answered, ‘The mirrors are not safe and the doors will remain locked to the Hall of Mirrors for the safety of Maen-Du. Henceforth, only those here present and of course those of the Host may enter these chambers without the express consent of Lord Aeron.’

Elder
Tomas blinked once before turning to Aeron to seek his approval. Aeron smiled. ‘Let it be so.’

A knock at the door announced the arrival of the Seekers and Elder
Tomas tutted as they entered. ‘Sorry to have called you, but we thought we were dealing with a possession.’ He flicked a glance towards Aeron before continuing, ‘Yet we are saved, Lord Celyn-Bach has extracted and destroyed the Ysbrydion, but as you can see, this poor man has been left impaired, such are the dangers of working with the mirrors.’ He shook his head, feigning grief. ‘Please take this poor man to the physician, I will accompany you.’

Without comment the two Seekers lifted the man together, while Elder
Tomas fussed over him, ensuring the front of his robes stayed closed. ‘Come, come,’ he urged them, ‘this man needs tending to.’ They shuffled away, the dead weight swinging between them. Elder Tomas walked at their side and closed the doors behind them.

‘He thinks on his feet.’ Celyn-Bach praised the Coun
cillor. ‘Suspicion would be rife if the traitor had been taken to Dduallt instead of the physician. Elder Tomas is a shrewd man and counterbalance to your impulsiveness.’

Aeron grunted. ‘What is it you wanted to show me?’ Celyn-Bach’s smile returned
. ‘Come and see.’ He waved Aeron over to the mirror the Druids had been studying when he first entered. ‘Come.’ Celyn-Bach encompassed the Druids and they gathered around him. ‘Druid
Pedr,
here,’ he said, patting the shoulder of a young Druid standing at his side, ‘was the first to discover what I’m about to show you. I shall let him explain.’

Pedr handed Aeron a magnifying glass and pointed to the corner of the mirror
. Clearing his throat he began in a warbling, nervous voice, ‘The runes etched on the glass are from the other side – y Gwag – but unlike the other runes that have appeared on a number of mirrors recently, these ones are a message,’ he finished proudly. The other Druids nodded their agreement.

Aeron was unimpressed
. ‘What does the message say?’ he asked bluntly. Pedr’s shoulders sagged dejectedly. ‘As yet, we have only deciphered part of it.’

Aeron looked to Celyn-Bach for an explanation
, who was looking upon Pedr with sympathy. ‘There are five runes in total, they have appeared for the first time together in sequence, and there are a number of ways they can be interpreted.’ Celyn-Bach moved to the table erected in front of the mirror. ‘You see, this symbol,’ he said, pointing to a slanted F shape, ‘can mean communication or god.’ He pointed to the next; a jagged S. ‘This again has many possible meanings, a defence against darkness, either defence, victory, or even change.’ Wrapped in the role of tutor, Celyn-Bach gathered pace.

‘The third rune, this can mean success, balance
or light. The forth can mean warrior or war. The fifth is most intriguing of all; it can mean protection or harmony.’

‘Or a gateway,’ Pedr interrupted, ‘depending on whether the leg of the P is as extended as we think
– and the curved line next to it, that one we can’t decipher at all.’

Aeron stared at the nodding heads, listened to them batting the possibilities back and forth; he would never understand
academics. ‘It seems plain to me.’ They all looked to him, desperate to hear his conclusion. ‘We are being given instructions. We are being told how to protect the mirrors from Ysbrydion. The rune you cannot decipher is the symbol for salt.’

The Druids looked to the mirror, to each other and back to Aeron. ‘Salt? We’re being instructed to salt the mirrors?’ The Druids were confused.

Celyn-Bach smiled. ‘That is exactly what we’re being instructed to do, but we do not put salt over the mirrors, we put salt
through
the mirrors. Genius. We should have thought of this before; salt is a far better protection than sage or runes. Ysbrydion loath salt – it burns them. They will not go near it.’