The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy (79 page)

‘Do not misunderstand me, Atgas, I too am a killer and I will do it on a scale you cannot image, but I will not relish it – it is a necessity not a joy. Do you understand?’ Atgas shook her head mutely. Arawn sighed again and looked up at the sky. It had finally stopped raining. ‘Run.’

‘What?’ Atgas stumbled back a few more steps.

Arawn looked her straight in the eye, ‘I said run, Atgas, as if your very life depended on it – which of course it does.’

‘No. No, please,’ she pleaded, ‘I am your queen. I rescued you – without me-’

‘I said run!’ Arawn roared and Atgas pulled up her skirts, spun on her heel and ran as fast as her legs would carry her.

Arawn watched her flee. ‘One … two … three.’ He lifted his hand slowly, his fingers reaching towards her, his outstretched palm itching and burning. White hot fire erupted from his hands, punched into Atgas’ back and flung her like a ragdoll across the field. He smiled satisfactorily and looked down at Cadno’s body. ‘I have wanted to do that for a very long time … it is a shame she killed you, but no matter.’ He shrugged his shoulders and spoke conversationally. ‘Atgas was unaware of a secret my Seekers have just discovered: the child and the woman are nearby,’ he said, chuckling as if sharing a joke, ‘somewhere in the village. I am about to receive my Bwy Hir body.’

Arawn tucked the poisoned knife into the belt of his tunic and strolled into the darkness, heading towards Penmachno Village in search of his new donor.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Maen-Du was in chaos; Druids filled the Halls, scurrying to their stations, carrying messages, initiates threw themselves against the walls as Seekers and Helgi pounded past, eager to join the hunt. The Host had departed either on foot or on dragon back, leaving only Celyn-Bach to oversee the pandemonium. ‘I want those doors shut tight!’ he bellowed to the guards standing outside the Hall of Mirrors, ‘I don’t care if most of the mirrors have been salted – I will not allow a breach in our defences!’

‘Lord!’ One of the guards shouted, ‘One of the mirrors is misting!’

Cadno cursed. ‘Guard it!’ He ran towards them, shouting, ‘All eyes on the mirror! Stand ready to defend the Hall!’

One mirror began to mist; the glass melted and wisps of silvery vapour leached out from the surface. The Druids stood poised to strike should even a hint of a threat be detected – they would defend the Hall with their lives. First one leg appeared, determined and dirty and then a second leg, followed by bulky shoulders and finally the head emerged. ‘Help us!’

‘Hold!’ Celyn-Bach commanded and the Druids relaxed. ‘Gwyn Morgan is that you?’

‘Yes,’ he replied, as he staggered, walking backwards step by careful step, ‘Dai Jones has been shot – call the physician – he’s in a bad way!’

‘Help them,’ Celyn-Bach ordered, ‘get that man to the Infirmary immediately.’ Four Druids rushed forward, wrestled Dai’s limp body into their embrace and whisked him away with Gary trotting nervously behind them.

Celyn-Bach came to stand over Gwyn. ‘Where is your sister? Is Awel with you?’

‘Awel did not make it to the church…’ His words were cut off by a sudden horn blast sounding, reverberating through the Halls causing everyone to pause and still. A second and a third blast rang out, echoing through the antechambers bringing with it a chill of foreboding.

Celyn-Bach raised his head as he heard Aeron roaring his name, he sounded in foul temper. He spun on Gwyn. ‘You must leave here immediately.’ Celyn-Bach gave him a stern knowing look. ‘Get yourself back through that mirror and stay there, lay low, do you understand me?’ Gwyn nodded and practically jumped through the mirror and back into Dai’s home.

Celyn-Bach watched Gwyn leave. Had he made the right decision? Should he have let Gwyn go?

‘My Lord!’ A terrified voice preceded the appearance of Elder Tomas. He ran through the hallways, his hands held above his head, his skirts flapping and his rotund belly bouncing beneath his robes. ‘My Lord! I bring news!’ he wailed, as he flew into the Hall of Mirrors, ‘Shocking news!’

‘Calm yourself, Councillor,’ Celyn-Bach snapped, ‘what on earth is happening?’

Elder Tomas ignored Celyn-Bach’s indignation. ‘Aeron has returned, with Cadno and Atgas slung over his saddle no less!’

‘Was Arawn with them?’ Celyn-Bach stepped forward and grabbed Elder Tomas by the shoulders. ‘Tell me what you know.’

‘Cadno and Atgas are sorely hurt and on the brink of death. Arawn is nowhere to be found!’ Elder Tomas looked up into Celyn-Bach’s eyes. ‘The others still search but the smoke, the storm! It is pitch black out there! Aeron demanded that all the Host return immediately to Maen-Du to regroup – hence the horn blasts. He also wants Maen-Du defended with every available–’ He suddenly stopped mid-sentence and asked with alarm, ‘Why is that mirror misted?’

Celyn-Bach turned his shoulder. ‘Worry not, Councillor,’ he said reassuringly, ‘one of the Chosen, Dai Jones by name, has been brought through by his son, he has had an accident with a Chosen weapon and requires our aid.’

‘Is he seriously hurt?’ Elder Tomas’ eyes were hooded. Celyn could see his doubt.

‘Ask the physician.’ Celyn-Bach placed his hand on Elder Tomas’ shoulder and steered him away from the mirror. ‘Come, take me to Aeron.’

They walked together into the hallway and were greeted by the sight of Aeron striding down the corridor. He was soaked to the skin, dripping water onto the slate slabbed floor as he came, barking orders. ‘Bar every entrance. Man every battlement, every
balistraria
–
keep only the dragon bay open – Arawn must not gain entry into Maen-Du!’ Druids scrambled to do his bidding. The crashing of the warning gong boomed through the hallways and the horn began to sound across the valley calling the Host to return. ‘Ah, Celyn, there you are.’ He did not break stride. ‘Come with me and see what you make of our new prisoners.’

‘It is true then?’ Celyn-Bach fell in stride while Elder Tomas trotted behind them. ‘How did you capture them?

Aeron shook his head. ‘I did not. I found them lying in a field not far from Maen-Du.’ He paused at the top of the stone stairs that lead to the Infirmary corridor. ‘I don’t understand it; Cadno is unconscious but bleeding from a stab wound in his back. Atgas was lying a few yards away, I almost didn’t recognise her; she is badly burned, covered in stab wounds and barely alive.’

‘Who did this?’ Celyn-Bach asked. ‘How did they manage to attack two Bwy Hir and survive?’

‘It had to be Arawn.’ Aeron ran his hand over his face, wiping away the rain water that ran from his mane. ‘But how he did it? Only Cadno will be able to answer that when he wakes – if he wakes.’

‘Was there any sign of Arawn? Perhaps he didn’t survive the attack…’ Celyn-Bach’s mind was racing.

‘No sign.’ Aeron ground his teeth. ‘He is still out there somewhere, but with the smoke and the storm and the darkness…’ He clenched his fists. ‘We are hampered at every turn. We must regroup and plot our next move … is there any news from the Pride? Does Awel have the child and girl yet?’

Celyn-Bach shook his head. ‘I have heard nothing from the Pride.’ He made no lie but hid is deceit. ‘Perhaps the storm hampers Awel’s return … you raised quite a tempest.’

‘Half of the valley was going up in flames, what was I supposed to do?’ They had reached the doors of the Infirmary. ‘Let us see if Cadno can be woken, I am keen to hear what he has to say before the Host returns. If he knows anything of Arawn’s whereabouts I will have it out of him.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Gwyn stepped into a darkened room. All the lights of the house had been turned off. Only the luminescent glow of the mirror shining on his back gave him any sight. A sudden panic gripped Gwyn’s heart, his stomach lurched and he called out with a rasping voice, ‘Anwen?’
Where is she?
He’d left her here only moments ago. ‘Anwen, where the hell are you?’

‘Here, I’m here.’ She switched the light on and rushed to him. ‘Do they know I’m here? Are they coming?’ Davy stood beside her, his eyes focused on the swirling, churning surface of the mirror.

Gwyn took a deep breath. ‘Look Anwen, we have to go.’

‘Shh,’ Anwen whispered, ‘did you hear that?’

Gwyn’s eyebrows knitted together as he looked down at the frightened face of his sister. ‘Anwen, listen.’

‘Shh, Gwyn.’ She stepped away from him. ‘I heard a gate swing shut.’

‘It’s windy out there.’ Gwyn took a step towards her, ignoring Davy’s fascination with the mirror. ‘Listen to me, we have to leave.’

‘Someone’s coming.’ Anwen took a tentative step into the hallway and craned her neck to peer through the small glass pane in the front door. ‘Oh my God!’ Anwen jumped as a ghostly face appeared in the glass.

Gwyn pulled Anwen into the front room. ‘What is it? What did you see?’

‘Get off me, Gwyn!’ Anwen struggled free. ‘It’s Awel!’

They rushed to the door together, leaving Davy alone beside the mirror, its surface had almost solidified but a small white wisp pulled away from the mirror and drifted towards Davy’s face. Davy was transfixed; he had never seen anything more beautiful, more serene or more wonderful in his entire short live. He could hear its words, low, echoic, almost familiar, as it swirled and curled towards his face, brushing against his cheek and tickling his lips.

Davy smiled, nodded once, closed his eyes and then opened his mouth while listening to his mother’s voice in the hallway.

‘Awel you’re hurt!’ Anwen stepped aside to allow Awel to enter the house.

‘It will heal.’ Awel smiled as she ducked into the house. ‘I’m glad to find you both safe, I got to the church late, I saw the body and feared the worst.’

Anwen’s mouth pulled down in a frown. ‘The body is Selwyn’s – they tried to kill us; him and Trevor Edwards … they said we were an abomination … Dai is hurt, Gary and Gwyn took him to through the mirror to Maen-Du.’

Awel took a sharp intake of breath. ‘You’ve been to Maen-Du? Where is the boy, is he safe?’

‘Yes, he’s here.’ Anwen called into the front room, ‘Davy, come here. It’s safe, come here and meet someone.’ He didn’t come. Gwyn darted into the room, flicked the light on as Anwen and Awel piled in after him.

Davy was sitting on the floor, inspecting his arms and legs as if he was surprised to see them there. Anwen knelt down beside him. ‘What are you doing?’ She ruffled his hair. ‘Davy, this is Awel, don’t be scared, she is very kind. Why don’t you say hello.’

Awel leaned down slowly, keen not to frighten the boy. She smiled and gently lifted his chin so she could take a good look at him. At first he kept his eyes hidden from her and then he slowly raised his eyelids; she saw a challenge hidden in their inky depths.

‘Why don’t you say hello, Davy?’ Anwen frowned. ‘You know how to say hello, don’t you, Davy?’

‘Hello.’ There was no tone or expression in his voice, his eyes stayed locked on Awel’s.

‘I’m sorry, Awel,’ Anwen said apologetically, feeling like an intruder in a scenario she couldn’t understand,.‘I don’t know what’s got into him.’ Their heads swivelled towards her.

“Cadw yn graff a ddysgych.”
The Tylwyth Teg’s sing-song little voice echoed in Awel’s head.
“Keep securely what thou learnest.”
Was this it? Was this the moment to keep silent?
Awel removed her hand from the little boy’s face and stood. ‘Don’t worry, Anwen.’ Awel smiled but her words carried no warmth. ‘Whatever it is I’m sure we’ll get it out of him,’ she said, turning her head back to the boy, ‘sooner or later.’

Anwen looked puzzled but forced a smile. ‘He’s just tired – we’re all tired.’

Awel didn’t take her eyes off Davy. ‘I’m sure you are, but such a
spirited
little boy as this will
surprise you
with just how much boundless
energy
he processes.’ Davy silently held her gaze.

Gwyn and Anwen exchanged looks. ‘Is there something wrong, Awel?’ Anwen bit her lower lip. ‘Is there something you’re not telling us?’

Awel broke off the staring contest and brushed her hand over her face. ‘My apologies, Anwen Morgan. As you say, we are all tired and I am injured too, but I am here now and I will let no harm come to any of you.’ She turned to Gwyn. ‘You were at Maen-Du, how is it they have not stormed in here and taken custody of Anwen and Davy?’

Gwyn had wondered the same thing. ‘Celyn-Bach knows I’m here, but no one else – Maen-Du is in chaos – Druids running here, there and everywhere, horns blaring.’

‘I heard the horn.’ Awel caught her own reflexion in the Dderwydd Ddrych, she looked hideous. ‘Three blasts. Aeron calls the Host to return?’

‘He must have. I know he’s there ‘cause I heard him shouting in the hallway – that’s when Celyn-Bach told me to get out of there and lie low.’

Awel’s mind was whirring, thoughts were spinning and tumbling in her head. ‘We need to move,’ she said at last, ‘Anwen, go and find some hooded coats for you all to wear, the darker coloured the better. Gwyn, find some sort of lantern. I need to get you all to the Dell.’ There both stared at her mutely. ‘Quickly now, I will watch the boy.’

They scurried to do her bidding and she turned back to the boy. ‘
Pwy ydych chi
?
Who are you?’ she whispered. Davy remained silent. Awel scowled. ‘I’ll ask you one more time and then if you don’t answer me, I will drag you through that mirror and give you to Aeron Ddu to see if he can get any answers out of you.’

‘You do not need to know who I am,’ Davy replied, his tone and voice changed to that of one much older than the little boy before her, ‘all you need to know is that I mean neither him or his family harm; I have come only to stop Arawn.’ He looked at her without expression. ‘I can see you don’t trust me so I shall say this and no more:
Cadw yn graff a ddysgych. Keep securely what thou learnest.”

So, she had been right to hold her tongue; she nodded her head. ‘How can I aid you?’

He smiled and raised his little finger to point. ‘You must salt that mirror.’

Anwen’s feet pounded back downstairs, she erupted into the room laden with coats. Gwyn came behind her flicking a torch on and off, checking it worked. ‘We’re ready,’ Anwen said nervously.

‘Then we are set.’ Awel leaned on her staff. ‘One more thing; Anwen go and fetch me some salt from the kitchen, as much as you can carry in two hands.’ Anwen creased her brow in confusion but she dropped the coats on the floor, went into the kitchen and opened and shut cupboard doors until she found what she was looking for. Then she returned.

‘Gwyn open the mirror.’ Awel stepped aside to give them room. ‘Anwen, once it is open you must throw the salt into it.’

‘But why?’ Gwyn asked as he fished out the amulet Gary had given him at Ty Mawr. It seemed like such a long time ago.

‘In our absence most of the mirrors have been salted by the Chosen and Druids – this one has not – I would see it done now. Stop asking questions. Gwenllian Gwiddon was right; you are always querying things. Now do as I ask.’

He shrugged his shoulders and stepped up to the mirror. They watched it open and then Anwen stepped forward, flinging the salt into the misty depths. The surface flashed and hissed before growing still once more and it began to close. ‘Good.’ Awel watched it seal. ‘Now we must be away immediately, come.’

Awel waited at the back door as Anwen folded Davy into a coat far too big for him. ‘Gwyn, will you carry him?’ He scooped him up as Anwen pulled on one of Liz’s coats. ‘We’re ready.’

Awel opened the door, bowed her head and scanned left and right as they tentatively left the house. ‘We shall travel directly to the Dell from here, skirting your house and into the forest, that way we shall have allies within shouting distance.’

‘Allies?’ Gwyn swivelled his head, his stomach lurching as the wind rustled every hedge and tree – at least it had stopped raining. ‘Wouldn’t we be faster if we took the Land Rover? We could get to Ty Mawr much quicker.’

Awel stopped in her tracks. ‘Land Rover?’ she queried. Gwyn nodded towards the vehicle parked outside. Awel raised her eyebrows, shook her head and led them across the dark open fields. ‘To answer your first question regarding our allies: Glyn-Guinea and some of the Chosen wait at Ty Mawr. Bwy Hir and Seekers wait at the Cerdd Carega in the forest … To answer your second question: do not be an idiot Gwyn Morgan; do you have any idea how painful it would be for me to travel in one of those contraptions.’

Gwyn ignored her last comment. ‘So if Glyn-Guinea is waiting at Ty Mawr and the Bwy Hir and Seekers are waiting in the forest, what’s waiting for us in between?’ Gwyn asked as he pointedly looked at Awel’s rudely bandaged wrist.

‘Nothing we can’t handle between us,’ Anwen replied with grim determination, as she trudged at Gwyn’s side. She was keeping one eye on her son who sat passively in her brother’s arms and one eye on the hedgerows. She balled her fists. No-one was going to take her son from her … no-one.