The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy (70 page)

Lest we forget the Gwrachod chose to separate from the Triskele long ago. They foretold of this day. A day when the Triskele would face annihilation and evil would rule in our stead. They chose to detach from us and disperse, to remain hidden, to wait and watch so that when the time came they would be able to offer shelter and aid to those fleeing from the holocaust, and we dare offer them insult this day, Aeron? Are they any less important to us that the Tylwyth Teg, who shelter and protect us? They are no part of the Triskele and yet they are still part of
us
.

I declare that we must unite together and we must heed the voices of
all
those who rally to us. I say stop the salting – at least for now – until we can be sure it is safe to do so. Let us gather the sharpest minds among the Druids and bring them here to the Dell. Call the Gwrachod. Call the Chosen. We must call an assembly and decide together how and where we strike at the Ysbrydion, how strike at the heart of Arawn with every weapon we can muster. We cannot do this alone –
you
cannot do this alone. Time grows short.’

Rapt silence filled the pavilion. Awel was the first to seize her opportunity
. ‘Our queen has called us to arms, how do we answer?’ Her voice rose with conviction, ‘How do we stand?’

Bran jumped to his feet
. ‘So hath she commanded, so do I obey!’ One by one they rose to their feet, all calling out their assent. Aeron was the last to his feet with a whimsical look on his face and gave a mock bow towards Mab. ‘Should I rise as sovereign or a supplicant?’

Mab raised an eyebrow
. ‘You rise as Aeron Ddu, King of the Winter Realm,
Pro-tem
Arch Orphanim of the Bwy Hir.’ His bow was deeper this time and filled with unaffected respect.

A small tugging on her sleeve caused her to look down into the flushed face of Glyn-Guinea
. ‘If you please, ma’am, the mirrors?’

She raised an eyebrow and he snapped his hand away, his face blushing crimson. ‘Peace, Chosen.’ She raised her head and turned to Aeron
. ‘The mirrors are in peril. Will you send Celyn-Bach with this man to Maen-Du and halt the salting?’

Aeron nodded his assertion. ‘If we are not too late.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

‘Bryn, Bryn, can you hear me?’ Reverend Morgan whispered through the bars of his prison. He had been separated from the other prisoners and locked up in a cage behind the main row of cages where the majority of prisoners were kept, but if he pressed his head against the back wall of his prison he could snatch whispers of conversations and goings on from the main housing.

‘Bryn, Bryn, I know you’re there – answer me!’
His hoarse, urgent whisper sounded thunderous to his ears. He heard a shuffling and low moan before the wretched voice answered, ‘I hear you, vicar.’

‘”Then they cried to th
e
Lor
d
in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress.” Do not give up hope, Bryn. Help will come.’ He whispered earnestly, ‘Already there is another one here, another Nephilim. If some are good like you say, maybe he will help deliver us to safety?’

Bryn rolled his head against the back wall of his cage in despair. If another of the Bwy Hir were truly here, then they were both Arawn and Atgas’ confederate, else they were a prisoner the same as he.

‘Bryn, Bryn?’ Reverend Morgan pressed his face against the walls of the cage. ‘Have faith, this will soon be over.’

He gently prodded the fleshy half heeled wounds on his arms. She would be here soon, with her wicked knife and vicious touch
. He wished he was dead. ‘I pray that it is, vicar, I pray that it is.’

The familiar rattle of the chain on the outer fence announced the arrival of Atgas. A tear slid down Bryn’s face as he forced himself upright and shuffled towards the front of his cage. He numbly slid his arm through the bars, his wrist upturned and waited. Hopefully she’d cut too deep or hit an artery and then it would be over.

The vicar’s voice suddenly rang out from the darkness. ‘
The Spirit of the Lord
is
upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor …’

Bryn watched as Atgas appeared, she was smiling as she ran her knife along the bars of the cages. He heard the other prisoners shy back in their cages and whimper. ‘Louder,
vicar!’ she called as she stalked the cages, ‘Double portions today!’

The
vicar’s unsteady voice called back, ‘He hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised! Have faith, stand fast!’

She grabbed Bryn’s wrist and he let out an involuntary yelp
. ‘Does it hurt, little man?’ she whispered cruelly, delighting in his pain. ‘Console yourself …’ She drew the knife across his arm, just above the wrist and allowed the blood to spill into a bowl she’d set at her feet. ‘Your blood will bolster our army. New Wraith Warriors are coming and your blood will ensure that your villages will be plundered anew. Your families and livestock will perish.’

Bryn was shaking, he felt cold and tired, so tired, but he looked Atgas in the eye and gave what he hoped was more smile than grimace
. ‘Do your worst,
Atgas
Adfyw
. I am Chosen and will not be cowed by the likes of you … Ahh!’ Atgas had twisted his wrist and jammed it hard against the bars of his cage. His cry rang out in the silence and was only answered by the howl of a Cwn Annwn.

Finally she released his arm and he collapsed into the filthy straw strewn floor. ‘I am Bwy Hir!’ she hissed
. ‘You will cower at my feet!’ Without a backward glance she collected her bowl and moved on to the next bloodletting.

‘Bryn. Bryn?’
Reverend Morgan received no reply.

Cadno paced up and down the edge of the circle. He had already made the mistake of touching the invisible walls of his prison and received a thunderous shock of pain for his troubles. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again; his arm still throbbed.

Even on tiptoe he could not see what was going on in the cages and pens where Atgas had headed armed with a knife and bowl. He had heard a voice calling out, reciting what he presumed was a Bible verse and then heard the shriek of pain but after that there had been nothing but silence. What was she doing? Killing them all or bloodletting?
Why does she need so much blood? Why did they have a Cristion? Was that the voice he’d heard? Where was Arawn?

He threw his hands in the air and let out a frustrated growl. Too many questions and not enough answers. Since Atgas’ furious departure he had been left alone; he wasn’t even guarded. He spun in a slow circle, it was getting lighter somehow. Shapes and forms began to emerge as the darkness receded.

The light was coming from above, slowly filtering through the underside of a huge lake suspended in the air. Below it was a smaller lake where huge droplets of water descended from above to splash in murky droplets. Hulking shadows became ash trees and hazel thickets, crags and hillocks. There was only one place on earth where this place could exist: he was in the Pride’s Lair.

Another scream tore through the cavern, echoing into silence. Cadno’s heart lurched at the pitiful resonance. What was Atgas doing? Killing everyone? He had to do something – didn’t
he? He lifted his chin and began to chant.

‘We adhere to the command of the Alpha and Omega: Thou shalt not spill the blood of my children – And so the Bwy Hir must stand fast – Until we are absolved of our father’s sins – So we must obey – Atgas. We must obey!’ His voice thundered in a high pitched plea.

Silence. ‘Atgas. You hear me? You hear me, Atgas?’ His voice echoed off the cavern walls before descending into an ominous silence broke only by the splashing of the lake.

‘She hears you but she’s quite mad. She enjoys inflicting pain, but then you already know that.’ Cadno spun around. Arawn stood at the edge of the circle, arms folded, feet planted apart. Cadno was shocked to see how much Arawn had altered since he last saw him in Dduallt. He had decayed somehow; his skin, or as Cadno reminded himself – Afagddu’s skin had withered and had taken a grey cast. His eyes were bloodshot and sunken, his veins stood out on his forearms, varicose and engorged. The two huge antlers fixed to either side of his head were dull and desiccated, his spine had begun to recoil and he stood slightly stooped. Cadno cringed at Arawn’s wasted state.

‘He never liked you.’ Arawn stood as if listening to a far off whisper. ‘In fact, he hated you.’

‘Who?’ Cadno was cautiously intrigued.

‘Afagddu.’ Arawn frowned as if Cadno had asked an absurd question.

Cadno tried to keep his face blank. ‘The feeling was mutual.’

‘He didn’t like the way you grabbed his neck in the Druids’ Hall of Maen-Du when you dragged him to Dduallt.’ Arawn smiled at Cadno’s obvious discomfort. ‘I however, thank you. It made it so much easier for me to find him.’

‘Is he … is he in there?’ Cadno grimaced. ‘Inside you?’

Arawn pursed his blue-tinged lips. ‘Actually, when you think about it, it is I who is in him.’

Cadno shuddered, aware of how Arawn was looking at him, hungrily, covetously. He turned his face away from Arawn’s scrutiny.

‘Why are you here?’ Arawn broke the silence.

‘It wasn’t exactly my choice.’ Cadno slowly turned his face back to Arawn. ‘What do you intend to do with me?’

‘Will you surrender your body to me?’ Arawn’s voice held a tinge of challenge.

‘No,’ Cadno replied flatly, ‘although for the right price I may be able to help you secure another.’

‘Oh?’ Arawn took a step closer to the circle’s edge, careful not to get too close. ‘And how do you intend to do that?’ He waved a hand towards the invisible wall between them.

Cadno rubbed his chin and tilted his head towards the ceiling as if thinking aloud. ‘Well, the way I see it, there are two ways, both of which will require my release.’

Arawn threw his head back and laughed but Cadno talked over his mirth. ‘I am still one of the Bwy Hir. I can enter the Dell, lure a female out and deliver her to you here – a fertile female – one who has just provided a daughter to the Pride. You can take her – sire a child – sire your own Bwy Hir body.’ Cadno shivered inwardly at the thought. ‘Or set me free and I will track down Taliesin’s Halfling sprog.’

Arawn leaned in and whispered in a comparative manner, ‘Atgas will not set you free … she wants me to have your body.’ He made the pantomime of looking over his shoulder. ‘I would hate to disappoint her.’

‘My answer is no.’ Cadno scowled and took a step back away from Arawn.

‘I thought that would be your answer.’ Arawn shook his head sadly but a smirk played on his lips. He turned on his heel and walked away from the circle as Cadno looked on bemused and unnerved. Whatever game Arawn was playing Cadno had no idea on the rules or how to plan the next move and that left him terrified.

‘Bring me the Cristion.’ Arawn’s voice bellowed through the cavern. Cadno watched and waited as the little Christian man was frogmarched past the circle.

‘Cristion!’ Cadno called to him, ‘I am Cadno. Think me not evil, Cristion. “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone” – eh, Cristion!’

The Cristion walked past without even raising his head. Had he understood? Cadno sat on the ground and waited.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Celyn-Bach was frustrated by Glyn-Guinea’s slowness as they jogged towards the Cerdd Carega at the edge of the Dell. ‘We must hurry, Chosen. Time grows short.’

Glyn-Guinea puffed and panted as he tried to keep up with the Bwy Hir loping ahead of him. ‘I’m going as fast as I can.’

‘We would make faster progress if I carried you.’ Celyn-Bach rolled his eyes.

‘Damn it!’ Glyn-Guinea stopped in his tracks. ‘Do it then – but only until we get to the Cerdd Carega leading to Maen-Du and then I stand on my own two feet.’

He felt ridiculous as Celyn-Bach threw him onto his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and took off at speed. He didn’t even put him down as they hurled through the Cerdd Carega and exited into Gwydir Forest. Celyn-Bach didn’t break step as he tore off at speed through the trees in a straight line. Glyn-Guinea bounced and bobbed, the ground whizzing past his face until he was set down, his head spinning and his stomach lurching.

‘We are here!’ Celyn-Bach announced without the need to catch his breath. ‘Take my hand.’

Glyn-Guinea stuck out a shaking hand, quailing at the anticipation of the terrible sensation of travelling through another Cerdd Carega. Then it began;
the flash of blue-white, the terrible dragging sensation, the feeling of being drawn out, stretched and pulled, the sharp keening sound ripping at the ears: a whirlwind of ice and fire.

Glyn-Guinea gritted his teeth and hunched over as his feet touched solid ground. A high pitched keening filled his ears and bile filled his mouth, before he could stop himself he toppled forward as he fainted.

‘See to the Chosen,’ Celyn-Bach called over his shoulder to the Druid standing watch in the Travelling Hall. ‘I will return presently.’ He loped off towards the Hall of Mirrors. ‘Hold!’ he cried as he approached the doors. ‘Hold the salting!’ He burst into the Hall and threw his head back in despair at the scene before him: Scores of mirrors flashed into life, one after the other as Chosen men stepped through one by one.

‘My Lord?’ Elder Nissyen rushed to Celyn-Bach’s side
. ‘Is there a problem? We have done as was agreed. The salting has commenced.’

Celyn-Bach shook his head
. ‘I am too late – it is not your fault. We’d hoped to stop a mistake before it happened … I am too late.’

‘Lord Celyn-Bach?’ Elder
Tomas rushed into the Hall. ‘Have we done wrong?’ Concern twisted Tomas’ face and wrinkled his brow.

‘No, Elder.’ Celyn-Bach’s voice was melancholy as he raised his hands to his head and he watched the last few Chosen step from the mirrors. ‘The mistake is ours. You did only as you were instructed. The blame lies with the Host alone.’

‘Was Elder Chosen Glyn Williams correct?’ Elder Nissyen lost all colour in his face. ‘Was he right?’

‘We believe it may be so. I came to stop the
salting. I was too late.’ Celyn-Bach heaved a huge sigh. ‘How many mirrors have been salted?’

Elder Nissyen shuffled over to the line of Druids leaning over a table and checking the census. He returned with heavy feet
. ‘All but twelve.’ Elder Tomas let out a moan of despair. The sea of Chosen milled around the base of the mirrors, huddled together, whispering in hushed voices.

Celyn-Bach cast his eye over the assembly before raising his voice for all to hear
. ‘All is well.’ The Chosen visibly relaxed. ‘I am here to call six Chosen Elders to attend King Aeron Ddu this very night. I call seven Druid Elders to attend also. Decide among yourselves and come forward.’ He lowered his voice and spoke to Elder Nissyen and Tomas together. ‘You both are called by name. Choose another five and meet me at the Travelling Hall. Bring the other Elder Chosen with you – I already have Elder Chosen Glyn Williams with me.’ He paused before leaving. ‘Do not allow any other mirrors to be salted – protect the remaining twelve.’

Elder
Tomas and Nissyen were devastated; they had been warned by Glyn-Guinea and chose to ignore his counsel. Neither voiced it, but both dreaded Aeron’s wrath when he was informed of what had happened. ‘Nissyen, gather the Elder Druids of your choosing and bring them with the Elder Chosen to the Travelling Hall whilst I gather a few things together, and bring your ceremonial staff with you. I don’t know where we are going but I expect it may be the Dell.’ He left with a look of trepidation.

The noise of the gathering rose louder and louder as they began to arrange themselves into a semblance of order. ‘Come to order!’ Elder Nissyen called over the cacophony
. ‘Come to order!’ He milled through the crowds and gathered those he required to him. ‘All Chosen not selected are to return to their homes! Druids – see it is so!’

The
mirrors sprang into life and the Hall slowly began to empty. Satisfied with the selection of Elder Druids and Chosen gathered about him Elder Nissyen led the procession of men into the outer hallways and proceeded towards the Travelling Hall sending a fresh faced initiate scurrying ahead to collect his ceremonial staff.

Elder
Tomas joined the procession as he struggled to adjust the leather strap across his chest that attached to a bulging satchel at his hip. ‘Unprecedented.’ He pressed his lips together. ‘My duty is here. There are problems enough stacking up against me without the added hindrance of my absence.’

Elder Nissyen nodded
. ‘Not to mention that it is well past midnight and I’d hoped to be in bed by now.’

‘Bed? Bed?’ Elder
Tomas side stepped to allow the initiate to skid to a halt and pass Nissyen his staff before retreating into the background. ‘It has been so long since I had a full night’s sleep that I’m beginning to forget where my chamber is!’

They rounded the corner and stepped into the Travelling Hall. Glyn-Guinea stood by Celyn-Bach’s side with his arms folded and glared at each man as the Watchman handed out the lanterns. Elder Nissyen refused to meet his eye and Glyn-Guinea snorted in disapproval and contempt.

Celyn-Bach placed a calming hand on Glyn-Guinea’s shoulder before addressing the Hall. ‘Greetings to you all.’ The men bowed in unison but Celyn-Bach waved them upright. ‘You have been called and you have answered with honour. Each of you are called forth to represent your branch of the Triskele as we, for the first time in living memory, reunite with our allies and come together as one to face our common foe: Arawn.’

Celyn-Bach
quelled the swell of murmured questions. ‘All your questions will be answered when we arrive at our destination, but first we must use the Cerdd Carega and for some, especially those unused to travelling, it will be an unpleasant sensation.’ He pressed his lips together in a consoling smile. ‘Elder Chosen Glyn Williams will explain the sensation to you so you will know what to expect.’

Glyn-Guinea scowled at the expectant faces, keeping his arms folded
. His annoyance with them was palpable. ‘The sensation of travelling through the Cerdd Carega is not like travelling through the mirrors,’ he said, his scowl deepening, ‘it is like being ripped apart, shoved in a bag, shaken into a jumble of jelly and then spat out.’ He turned his scowl into a sneer. ‘And it serves you Druids right for not listening to me in the first place. I hope you vomit your own hearts out.’

Celyn-Bach was momentarily speechless. He looked around the sea of faces and saw dread etched in every one of them. ‘Do not be alarmed, it is not as bad as that.’ He shot a warning glance to Glyn-Guinea who was st
anding with his jaws stubbornly clamped together. ‘We shall travel to the edge of Maen-Du via this Cerdd Carega and then it is a short walk to the Cerdd Carega that leads to the Dell. I need not remind any of you what an honour it is to be invited into the domain of the Pride … Let us commence. Please loop your lanterns over your wrists and take the hand of the person next to you – we must be joined together in order for me to take you through ... are you all ready?’

There was a shuffling of feet and general disorder as they prepared themselves. Heads turned from left to right as each man ensured his was connected to the man next to him. Celyn-Bach took hold of Glyn-Guinea’s hand who in turn reluctantly offered Elder Nissyen the other as he struggled with a lantern on his wrist and
the staff tucked between his arm and ribs. ‘Come on, man,’ Glyn-Guinea snapped, ‘stop faffing about and give me your hand.’  Elder Nissyen threw Glyn-Guinea an acid glare before grabbing his hand; their temporary alliance utterly terminated.

‘Prepare yourself!’ Celyn-Bach called over the chain of men, ‘And have your wits about you when we emerge on the other side. I do not need to remind you that the night is now a hostile place.’ He placed his hand on the Cerdd Carega, the flash of white-blue light marked their departure.

They erupted in a tangle of chaos that spilled out onto the edge of a dark and ominous forest. Celyn-Bach strolled a short distance away from them and stood poised, listening and watching for any hidden foe lurking in the darkness.

Glyn-Guinea gritted his teeth, forcing himself to remain upright as he inhaled and exhaled through his nose. Elder
Tomas was upright too but others were strewn on the ground, moaning and retching. Glyn-Guinea took great pleasure in watching Nissyen sprawled on the grass gulping for breath.

‘Come
,’ Celyn-Bach ordered, ‘on your feet. We must be away from here. Keep a sharp eye out and be prepared to use Dderwydd Drych should I call for it.’ He waited impatiently as men struggled to stand, leaning heavily on each other as they caught their breath or wiped their mouths with the back of their sleeves. Once the last one gained his footing Celyn-Bach led the way into the forest interior, the others following close behind, some opening the shutters of their lanterns to light their way, others swivelling their heads from left to right, scanning the shadows.

The Chosen huddled together, keen not to be left lagging behind. The Druids had
Derwydd yn tân at their disposal; the Chosen had a few lanterns and a pen knife between them – no defence against a Wraith Warrior or rogue Helgi.

The forest was silent and the pine needles underfoot were moist and soundless as the procession stumbled and strode long the pathway. Each held his own counsel and not a whisper passed between them to break the ominous stillness, only the hushed
whisk, whisk
of clothing and the occasional creak of a lantern’s sway could be heard.

Celyn-Bach led the procession deeper into the forest towards the Cerdd Carega that would see them safely to the Dell. As they approached the clearing a drawn
out doleful howl echoed through the trees. Celyn-Bach spun to his left and braced himself, squinting into the darkness.

The Chosen clung to each other, hearts hammering, like harried sheep they bleated and circled together as the Druids formed a defensive ring. A second howl answered the first and then a third. Celyn-Bach understood: this was a three pronged attack and the triangle was closing fast.

‘Gather to me!’ They scurried to form a circle around him. ‘Form a defensive group. Close and discard of the lanterns.  Chosen take a stance in the middle, Druids on the outside. Chosen face outwards, back to back in two rows and link arms. Druids on the outer, one hand holding a Chosen, one hand free to shoot. Pace slowly towards the Cerdd Carega over there.’ He pointed towards the clearing, temptingly close for a sprint finish. ‘Stay linked. When we reach the Cerdd Carega I do not want anybody left behind. Stay linked.’

They began a slow, crablike march, one step at a time. Celyn-Bach spun in a slow circle as he matched their pace. A gust of wind stirred the treetops and rustled the undergrowth causing the men to hold their breaths in anticipation of an attack that didn’t come.

Again, one howl was raised and answered by another, much closer now. ‘Be ready to shoot anything that moves,’ Celyn-Bach whispered, his arm drawn back. The little group marched steadfastly closer to the clearing, blinking into the darkness, awaiting the first sighting of their attackers. 

Unleashed by their
masters the Cwn Annwn snapped at each other’s flanks with razor sharp teeth, desperate to be the first to reach their target. Tearing through the undergrowth, churning up pine needles and soil in their wake they snarled and snapped, foam flying from their maws and their hackles spiked. With a frenzied roar of triumph the pack of Cwn Annwn burst through the trees to harry their quarry on three sides.

Celyn-Bach was the first to react. A bolt of blinding lightning flashed from his hands to strike at the three hounds hunched snarling and growling between him and the Cerdd Carega
. With a howl of pain two hounds were hit but the third lurched to its right and vanished into the darkness.

Fire flared and roared drowning the bewildered shouts of the Chosen and the furious bellows of the Druids. ‘Run!’ Celyn-Bach yelled, ‘Run to me! Stay together and run!’
He danced towards the Cerdd Carega, swinging his arms away from his body ready to strike should the other hound show itself again.

They ran towards hi
m in a tangled huddle, all gripping to whosever arm or shoulder they could latch on to. Glyn-Guinea’s hand flew out and gripped Celyn-Bach’s outstretched hand and together they pressed into his body as he touched the Cerdd Carega and vanished.

Tumbling into the Dell, Celyn-Bach pushed away the pressure of the tangle of men and took a step away from the melee. ‘Is anybody hurt?’