The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy (49 page)

He waited for the male Helgi to trot from his cell, Madog no longer. Arawn patted the heads of his two Helgi and sniffed the air, waiting.

Another explosion punctuated by a shower of rocks caused Arawn to laugh out loud. A hole had been blown through the walls of Dduallt to the outside of Eryri. Cadno could see the swirling clouds through the jagged hole and beyond that were Ysbrydion warriors mounted on Bwy Hir dragons. ‘You have everything we came for?’ Arawn called and his warriors nodded. He lifted the Helgi to one warrior and saddled himself behind the seat of another before the dragons were steered away from the mountains and hidden in cloud. Cadno stared after them, almost disbelieving his own senses. ‘Arawn.’

CHAPTER
TWENTY ONE

The horn blast had reached the Dell and Gwrnach and Taliesin had been torn as to whether to return to Maen-Du, or complete their mission to rescue the Pride. ‘We rescue the Pride.’ Gwrnach was adamant.

He gently set Anwen down in front of the huge
Cerdd Carega that led to the Pride’s lair. She staggered and redistributed her weight off her injured leg. The standing stone loomed above her and she suddenly felt fearful. ‘How do I wake them?’ she asked in a quivering voice.

‘There will be a small golden horn placed on a plinth, just blow it and they should wake,’ Gwrnach replied, craning his neck towards Eryri and the Halls of the Druid; they were running out of time.

Anwen nodded and reluctantly placed her hand on the Cerdd Carega’s
cold face and closed her eyes. Nothing happened. ‘Something feels different. I can’t get through.’ She turned to Gwrnach and Taliesin.

Gwrnach stared at her in disbelief. ‘But you’ve done it before,’ he said, kneeling down beside her, ‘you can do it again. Try, Anwen.’

Again, she closed her eyes and tried to focus, but the stone was dead, she could feel no pulse, nothing. ‘It won’t work.’

Gwrnach stood and began to pace. ‘Think … you can use the
Cerdd Carega between Gwydir forest and the Dell, so what is different? Your blood sings, so why can’t you go through?’ He paced as he spoke, muttering under his breath and pulling at his beard.

Taliesin watched Gwrnach’s frenzied pacing and thought about the question: what
was
different? And then it came to him and he groaned. ‘What is it?’ Gwrnach stopped his pacing.

‘The Triskele,’ Taliesin answered with another groan.

‘What about it?’ Gwrnach was confused and then he realised; only female Bwy Hir could use this Cerdd Carega and so it would require more than blood; it required the Triskele tattoo above the left ear to mark her as one of the Pride. ‘I’ll do it.’ Gwrnach felt less sure than he sounded.

‘You cannot!’ Taliesin was on his feet. ‘Anwen is not Bwy Hir, neither has she bloomed.’

‘She is
part
Bwy Hir and will in all probability never bloom.’ Gwrnach was scanning the hedgerow looking for a source of wood. ‘We need to rescue the Pride and therefore she needs a tattoo, besides it can always be altered later.’

‘Tattoo?’ Anwen shied away from Gwrnach and moved towards the protection of Taliesin.

‘Calm yourself, Anwen Morgan,’ Gwrnach said, trying to sound reassuring, ‘it will be the same as mine, just over your left ear.’ He twisted his head to show his tattoo. ‘You only need to shave one side though; in the same fashion as the Pride.’

‘Shave?’ Anwen grabbed Taliesin’s arm. ‘I want to neither be shaved or tattooed, thank you very much.’ Taliesin stood in front of her defensively.

‘If you have a better idea, either of you, let me know.’ Gwrnach spread his hands. ‘Otherwise, we need to do this now. The Druid horn has sounded and that spells trouble, we’re running out of time.’

Taliesin turned to Anwen. ‘He is right. We must do this.’ Anwen pulled from his grasp. ‘Anwen, your hair will grow back and hide the tattoo if that is what you want.’

‘What I want?’ Anwen’s voice raised an octave, ‘What
I
want? This is not about me,’ she shouted, ‘this is about the Bwy Hir.
My
feelings don’t come into it.’ She turned to Gwrnach. ‘Do it, just do it.’ She sat on an outcrop of rock and looked out on the view, waiting for Gwrnach to start.

Gwrnach had to admire this tiny woman, she was stronger and braver than she looked. ‘I’ll be as gentle as I can, Anwen Morgan.’ He turned to Taliesin and said, ‘Find some wood and make a fire, burn it hot, Tali, I need good ash.’

Gwrnach retrieved his knife and gently tipped Anwen’s head to expose her left side. Gently he began to cut away a portion of her thick red hair, letting it fall to the snow. Anwen shivered and swallowed hard. Next Gwrnach gently ran his sharp blade across the side of her head exposing the white skin beneath until Anwen had a bald patch that exposed above her ear to the height of her temple. Gwrnach pulled her remaining tresses over her right shoulder. ‘You might want to plait that out of the way.’

Anwen began plaiting her hair while Taliesin lit the wood he had scavenged for the fire. Anwen was startled when a small glob of fire erupted from his palm, but she remained stubbornly silent as she tugged at her remaining hair, ignoring the clumps of curls discarded at her feet.

Gwrnach was less impressed with Taliesin’s meagre flame and added a ball of his own. The wood erupted in hot flames and burned quickly and fiercely. Gwrnach inserted his blade into the flames to cleanse the metal.

‘Tali, once the flames have died down, gather the ashes in the palm of your hands and spit into it until you have a nice thick paste.’ Gwrnach smiled soothingly as Anwen pulled her face in disgust. ‘Now this might hurt a bit,’ he said to Anwen, as he tested his blade on his thumb. ‘Stay still and I’ll be as gentle as possible.’ Anwen gritted her teeth as Gwrnach began to delicately carve into the flesh above her ear. He brushed away the blood as he worked, grimacing and apologising as Anwen winced. ‘Quickly now, Tali, I need the ash.’

Taliesin held out his hand and Anwen closed her eyes, she did not want to think about what was about to be rubbed into her skin. Gwrnach worked quickly but skilfully and when he was finished he sat back to admire his work; a perfect triskele, a mirror of his own, gleamed above Anwen’s ear. ‘You are ready,’ he said at last.

‘This’d better bloody work.’ Anwen glowered at Gwrnach, her head now throbbing as much as her leg. She hobbled to the
Cerdd Carega and inhaled deeply as she placed her hand on stone. The throbbing was almost immediate, pulsing in time with her own pain. She focused and pushed with her mind, she opened her mouth to tell Gwrnach as the blue-white light erupted in her mind.

‘She’s gone,’ Gwrnach whispered. ‘She’s gone!’ he then said loudly, clapping Taliesin on his back. ‘We did it!’ He clapped his hands together excitedly.

Taliesin stood staring at the spot where Anwen had vanished. ‘Pray she returns, Gwrnach, pray they all return.’ They sat on the grass to wait, each swivelling their heads towards Maen-Du and back to the Cerdd Carega, worriedly waiting, impatient to return home.

CHAPTER
TWENTY TWO

Anwen stumbled into a tunnel, dimly lit and smelling earthy but fresh. Anwen couldn’t see where the light was coming from, but it leaked from further within and so Anwen followed it.

The tunnel was silent; nothing crawled or stirred as she tiptoed towards the light, brushing her hands on the tunnel’s stony walls as she hobbled towards her goal. The tunnel veered to the left and as she came to the opening she cursed, the tunnel split three ways. She stopped, turning her head towards each of the tunnels in turn. ‘Which way?’ She spoke softly but her words sounded out of place in the deafening silence. She decided to continue straight on, she considered if she stayed on a straight path, she could always retrace her steps back to the beginning if she became lost. ‘Famous last words,’ she whispered as she set off down the middle tunnel.

She felt the tunnel floor beneath her feet angling downwards and leftwards as she hobbled ever onwards. She came across another intersection but chose to continue straight on, this time the tunnel angled slightly upwards and again veered to her left. Twice more she followed the middle tunnel until she arrived at a cavern. The Cerdd Carega stood in the centre and she cursed out loud: she’d come full circle and ended up where she started.

Tears of frustration were starting to play on her eyelashes and she brushed them away furiously. She felt so stupid; she’d sensed the tunnels taking her ever leftwards and she hadn’t corrected herself for fear of getting lost. ‘Okay, start again,’ she told herself, and hobbled off once more.

At every intersection she felt which way the tunnel angled, if she didn’t feel she was going near-straight and downwards, she would backtrack and choose another tunnel, regardless of whether it looked dimmer or more foreboding than the others.

Anwen judged she had been walking for approximately half an hour and was growing worried. She was now lost with no idea how to return to the
Cerdd Carega. Her leg throbbed, the side of her head stung and she was thirsty, hungry and tired. She worried for herself, she worried for her baby inside her, she worried they would never make it home.

Downwards, ever downwards Anwen hobbled along, leaning more and more heavily on the tunnel walls. Where was the light coming from? She wondered frustratingly. It was coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. She stopped halfway down the tunnel she was travelling and leaned her back against a wall, taking the pressure off her injured leg.

She looked where she had come from and then where she was going. A small smile creased her lips. Where she was heading was lighter than where she had come from. With a boost of confidence Anwen started towards the light but all she reached was another intersection. ‘Again.’ She spoke out loud. ‘Follow the light.’ Off she went, constantly checking behind her, stopping and retracing her  steps when the light shone behind her, choosing another tunnel, gauging the light, striving towards it, ignoring her feet and all her other senses, only allowing the light to guide her way.

Anwen was experiencing the first flutters of claustrophobia. Her hands were shaking and her heart was beating in her chest, her throat was parched and she battled to fight down the urge to panic; a battle she was slowly losing. ‘Come on, Anwen,’ she encouraged herself as she panted and sweated, ‘one more tunnel. Choose.’

The light
was
growing brighter she convinced herself and again put one foot in front of the other, wincing as her injured leg took her weight. This tunnel steeped upwards and the pain increased in her leg as she trudged upwards towards the light.

By the time she reached the crest her face was pinched with pain, tears leaked from her eyes and left tracks on her grubby cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt pain throbbing through her leg and up into her back, finishing at her temple, pulsing in time to the rhythmic stinging above her ear. She raised a shaky hand to her newly acquired tattoo; it was still sticky with blood. She wiped her hand on her jeans and looked down to her throbbing leg, fresh blood oozed from her wounds, sticking denim to the bandages. Putting her head back against the tunnel wall she cradled her stomach and began to sob, wracking great sobs that echoed through the caverns and ricocheted off in every direction.

Anwen felt utterly wretched, utterly used and a complete failure; she was going to die in these tunnels and no one would ever find her. This was all Taliesin’s fault. She wished she’d never met him. Anwen continued to snivel and cry until a tugging sensation brought her to her senses. She felt it again; a gentle tugging on her right leg, she looked down.

‘Oh my God!’ she shrieked and kicked at the creature, dragging herself across the wall and away from the thing.

The creature did not shy away, nor did it come after her. It stood patiently watching Anwen, tipping its head from left to right, peering up at her with huge feral eyes that sparkled in the gloom of the tunnel.

‘What are you?’ Anwen shuffled back a few more f
eet, keen to keep her distance. The creature did not answer, it merely took a few steps backward and waited. The little creature was no taller than her waist, it was almost childlike in stature and yet perfectly proportioned, and lithe like a dancer. Its eyes were large and oval, its face small and handsome. It wore a small homespun robe and Anwen could not tell whether it was male or female, but the patient way it stood made Anwen believe that at least it was not threatening and so she took a step towards it. The creature took two steps back and again waited. Anwen moved forward again and the creature moved back.

From its behaviour Anwen presumed it wanted her to follow it and follow it she did, although she kept checking over her shoulder to make sure they were still headed towards the light and not from it.

Anwen limped onwards, following the creature as it purposefully scampered through the tunnels until it stopped and turned to face her. It smiled and then vanished out of sight. Anwen scrambled after it, keen not to lose her guide but she skidded to a halt as she reached a cliff edge.

Despite her exhaustion Anwen took a sharp intake of breath … she had found the Pride’s lair. Before her was the largest cavern Anwen had ever seen, its huge expanse was lit from above by what could only be described as 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 rainbow droplets.

Ferns grew in abundance along the water’s edge, moss covered boulders languished in golden rock pools and grassy knolls dotted the cavern floor shaded by ash trees and hazel thickets.

Anwen looked for a way down and spied a narrow stairway cut into rock face. She hobbled down the steps one at a time as her eyes drank in the beautiful setting. When she reached the cavern floor she became aware of chirping and whispering coming from the undergrowth and clusters of ferns. Hundreds of feral eyes watched her from their leafy covers as she followed a worn path deeper into the basin.

Cautiously and as quietly as she could she searched for what she had come for; the golden horn Gwrnach had told her to find. She spun on her heels as she limped through the hollow, looking for the plinth, the horn, or any sign of the Bwy Hir themselves, of which there was none until the path led her to a shaded glade.

There amongst the trees was the plinth and horn. She could hear scurrying in the ferns and eyes peeped between the leaves to watch her as she gently, reverently clasped the horn in her hands.

The horn was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. Engravings of Celtic knots and running deer coiled around the bell. Inlay of silver depicted ivy leaves wound around the curve of the stem and up to the mouthpiece. The horn was larger than Anwen had expected and was almost three feet in length, but it was light and easy to hold and so she put it to her lips and blew.

Chattering and tittering came from the bushes and Anwen creased her forehead. She set herself again, squared her shoulders and took a long, deep intake of breath before pressing the horn to her lips once more, blowing with all her might.

A loud clear note blasted from the horn and resonated through the cavern. The noise was so loud that Anwen instinctively ducked and the chattering from the undergrowth ceased.

Anwen listened intently, her huge, frightened eyes scanning the area but nothing stirred, not even the feral-eyed creatures made a sound.

Anwen clutched the horn to her chest and retraced her steps into a grassy clearing, looking behind her as she hobbled onto the soft, lush grass surrounding by tall boulders on two sides. ‘Hello?’ she called out.

‘Intruder,’ came the hiss front above her and Anwen spun round. ‘Thief.’

Above her was the most beautiful, terrifying creature Anwen had ever laid eyes on. A beautiful Bwy Hir crouched on top of a boulder, her haunting black eyes transfixed on Anwen and the horn.

‘No. No.’ Anwen shied away from the furious Bwy Hir. ‘I am Anwen Morgan, the Winter King has sent me to wake you!’ she screamed as the Bwy Hir leapt onto the grass. ‘Please, please, you don’t understand.’

The Bwy Hir slowly circled Anwen, poised on the balls of her feet, ready to strike. ‘Hold!’ a second voice rang out and Anwen spun in its direction. A raven haired Bwy Hir stalked into the clearing followed by another with white flowing hair carrying a staff. ‘Anwen Morgan?’ Anwen nodded. The Bwy Hir exchanged concerned glances.

The white haired Bwy Hir came forward, towering over Anwen. ‘My name is Awel and this,’ she said, motioning to the raven haired beauty, ‘is Mab Rhedyn Haf, Queen of the Summer Realm.’ Anwen dropped to a wobbly curtsy. ‘And you have already met Artio.’ Awel smiled towards the Bwy Hir who moments before had circled Anwen like a cat toying with a mouse; the cat relaxed. ‘What is the meaning of this Anwen Morgan and how did you enter here?’

Anwen began to stammer an explanation. ‘Gwrnach taught me to use the Cerdd Ceraga, but the one to here wouldn’t let me through, so he carved this on my head.’ Anwen paused to show the Triskele tattoo and the Bwy Hir frowned.

‘Why have you come?’ asked Mab, as others of the Pride came to join them.

‘Ysbrydion.’ Anwen gulped. ‘They are in the mirrors and in y Gwag, they’ve been fed–’ The Bwy Hir gasped in unison and Anwen continued. ‘The Winter King feared you were defenceless here and sent me to wake you, he asks that you return to Maen-Du.’

‘What nonsense is this?’ one of the Bwy Hir shouted angrily but Awel was silently looking to the lake in the centre of the cavern, the look on her face caused everyone to turn and follow her gaze.

Black and red wisps of light idly swam in the depths of the water hung suspended at the cavern roof, darting and twisting, rolling and gliding in the emerald waters. ‘She speaks the truth,’ Awel stated bluntly and the Bwy Hir moaned.

‘How can this be?’ Artio came to stand next to Anwen, her face turned upwards to watch the
Ysbrydion swim.

‘Afagddu is a murderer.
He fed the Ysbrydion in y Gwag.’ Anwen’s bottom lip trembled.

‘Is Maen-Du in peril?’ Awel asked, still looking to the lake.

‘When I left ...’ Anwen paused as the gathered Bwy Hir turned to stare at her; they all knew the Druids’ dislike of the presence of women, especially in Maen-Du. ‘When I left,’ Anwen began again, ‘the Druids were burning white sage and drawing runes. I know of one Druid that received cuts travelling through a Cerdd Carega with Taliesin … Before I entered the Cerdd Carega to come here we heard a horn blast and Gwrnach and Taliesin were worried, they said it was a call for all to return to defend the Halls.’

‘We must return at once,’ Mab called to her Pride, ‘gather your things – we return immediately.’

The Pride ran to gather their belongings and then the creatures appeared from the ferns and undergrowth. Awel was surprised but pleased to see them. ‘One of them led me here when I became lost in the tunnels,’ Anwen said to Awel. ‘What are they?’

Awel smiled as they gathered in clusters around her, ‘
These are the
Tylwyth Teg
.
’ She turned to Anwen. ‘And once again the Pride are indebted to them as we are to you.’

‘Faeries?’ Anwen was astounded. ‘Truly? Where are their wings?’

Awel chuckled in spite of the dire circumstances she had woken to. ‘Tylwyth Teg do not have wings; they are as earth bound as we are.’

A muted boom from overhead caused the Pride to stop their preparations and look up. The
Ysbrydion, who moments before had brashly swum in the waters, were now tearing through the waters, frenzied and manic in their flight. Huge balls of orange light tore through the water and lit the lake with a hellish glow.

‘Quickly, Pride, we must depart immediately!’ Awel called across the cavern, as they made their hasty escape towards the tunnels.

‘What is happening?’ Anwen stumbled after the Bwy Hir, clutching the horn to her chest as she hobbled behind them.

‘The Host are slaying the
Ysbrydion before they escape from the lake and into our lair, or worse, into the lands of the Chosen.’ Awel hurried Anwen along as they made their way up the stone steps and into the tunnels.

Bwy Hir and
Tylwyth Teg
scampered through the tunnels, surefootedly taking every twist and turn that led to the
Cerdd Carega. Anwen hobbled behind until Artio grabbed Anwen’s arm and slung it over her neck, practically carrying Anwen as they fled.