The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy (54 page)

CHAPTER
TWENTY NINE

By the time the Seekers had found him, Taliesin was unconscious. The Seeker had burst the barred door into flames and gained entry to the mirror. His sudden appearance in the Hall of Mirrors had caused alarm and nearly cost him his life as the Druids standing guard had been poised to strike as the mirror misted.

The Council meeting had been disturbed and disbanded as the Bwy Hir rushed to the Hall of Mirrors. Celyn-Bach had vanished into the mirror, reappearing with Taliesin in his arms.

Despite Aeron’s anger at Taliesin’s disappearance, he gently took his unconscious son from Celyn-Bach and carried him like a small, sleeping child up to Aeron’s own chamber and laid his son gently on the bed.

Mab was at Taliesin’s side, holding his hand as the blooming took its course. Aeron stood over his son, watching as Taliesin fretted in delirium, shook and sweated as his body began to slowly change.

Taliesin’s skin began to glow faintly, as his body stretched and filled, his muscles bunched and strained as they developed, as he grew. His raven hair became a mane, spilling across the pillow that held his head. His eyes suddenly shot open, his iris and pupils black as night, stark against the perfect white of his shining skin. His lips pulled back from his clenched teeth as he howled in agony and anger as his body changed and throbbed, every sinew screaming against the transition.

Aeron looked on passively as Taliesin became quieter and calmer as the blooming ebbed. All Bwy Hir knew the pain of transition. They were so far from Human; Bwy Hir didn’t slowly gain maturity, gradually changing from child to adult. Their transition was quick, painful and violent as they became what they were: Nephilim; part divine, part Human.

Taliesin had slipped into unconsciousness again. He lay still, his eyelids flickered and his veins pulsed, but it was slowing. It was over. When Taliesin woke he would be greeted and accepted in the Host, his mother’s hold on him had ended. Taliesin was part of the Winter Realm now. Aeron smiled.

Mab kissed her son’s brow and slipped from the room. Taliesin was hers no longer and she brushed away a tear at the loss. ‘It is over,’ she said to the Bwy Hir gathered in Aeron’s outer chambers. The Host smiled and embraced forearms, congratulating themselves on the addition to their ranks. The Pride were quieter, Taliesin had been the only child in the Pride and they had indulged, cared for and loved their little Tali, but that was over. They looked to Oli, her swelling belly was their only conciliation. ‘And what of Taliesin’s child?’ one of the Pride called out.

‘He is lost to us – for now. Anwen Morgan has vanished.’ Mab was vexed, she wanted her grandchild, Hanner-Bridia or not. Taliesin had made a grave mistake going to the girl. It would have been better to have brought her to the Pride. They could have protected her until the birth – kept them both safe until Anwen Morgan had delivered another child to the Bwy Hir. As it stood now, Anwen Morgan had vanished, removed her bracelet and left her mirror. There was no way to trace her and she was still in danger of being found by Arawn.
Foolish girl
, thought Mab. 

Mab turned to Awel and steered her away from the rest of the group so they would not be overheard. ‘Where will she go, Awel?’ Awel eyed Mab askance before she replied, ‘I do not know and now it makes no difference. Taliesin will become a part of the Host; he is full grown and his opinion regarding his child will matter – above that of his mother’s, and he does not wish her found.’

‘Aeron will have the last say in the matter and Taliesin will not be able to gainsay him.’ Mab was irritated by Awel’s lack of aid.

‘Aeron has enough to contend with without applying all his efforts to find Anwen Morgan, and even if she was found, she will not trust us and we have no right to hold her against her will. Added to that, a Druid has just killed her father – you can’t expect her to return to us willingly.’ Awel was furious when she had been informed of the Seeker’s actions. She would insist he face a Triskelion jury for what he had done. ‘Two deaths in the Morgan family, both at the hands of Druids – they go beyond themselves, and we are to blame for allowing them to.’ Awel calmed herself; it was ridiculous to allow herself to feel the loss of Dafydd Morgan.

‘The Druids are Aeron’s responsibility.’ Mab made to move away from her Councillor but Awel placed a restraining hand on Mab’s forearm. ‘We are
all
responsible for the actions of the Triskele. All of us.’

Mab raised an eyebrow and released her arm from Awel’s grip. ‘I have little care for the Druids, nor the Chosen men – my concern is for the Pride and the return of the child that belongs to it. My grandchild should be returned to the Pride.’

‘Even if it proves to be Human? With no trace of Bwy Hir? Would you still want it then?’ Awel’s voice was acid. ‘My advice as your Councillor is to let it go, Mab. Do not allow yourself to be consumed with this. Anwen Morgan’s child cannot replace your son, nor can it replace Artio.’

Mab glared at her Councillor and without another word stormed back to Aeron’s bed chamber and slammed the door behind her.

The Bwy Hir eyed Awel with interest, intrigued to know what had passed between them. With a heavy heart Awel removed herself from their inquisitive gaze and made her way to the Cerdd Carega. She refused to use the mirrors – she still didn’t trust using them, even though the Druids had been passed in and out of the Morgans’ mirror most of the morning, tidying up the Seeker’s mistake –
damn him
.

Awel wanted to be at the farm when Gwyn returned. Somebody had to deliver the terrible news and she would rather it came from her than out of the mouth of a Druid.

CHAPTER
THIRTY

‘Where’re we going?’ Gwyn asked with panic in his voice as he gripped onto the steering wheel. The car ploughed through the country lanes and even Glyn-Guinea would have been hard pressed to keep up with Gwyn’s driving.

‘I don’t know, Gwyn, just keep going!’ Anwen kept looking behind them, making sure they were not being chased. ‘Do you think Dad will be alright?’

Gwyn kept silent. He’d heard the shot. His dad would be in trouble with the Druids for firing a warning shot in their presence. It had just been a warning shot, hadn’t it? Gwyn spoke over the roar of the engine. ‘Anwen, I can’t just keep driving – I need to know where I’m taking you.’

Anwen spun back into her seat to face forward and watch the road ahead. ‘Take me to the train station, Gwyn. I’m going back to London. I’ll go to Mary.’

‘The woman you told me about?’ Gwyn huffed. ‘You think that’s safe?’

‘Safer than here.’ Anwen set her jaw. ‘Yes, do it, take me to a train station – one on the coast where there’s lots of people – where the Druids won’t be waiting for me.’

‘Okay.’ Gwyn relaxed his grip on the steering wheel; now he knew where they were going he felt less tense. ‘You’ll keep in contact, mind, won’t you? You’ll let us know you’re okay?’

‘Of course I will.’ Anwen’s bottom lip had begun to quiver. ‘I’ll phone you whenever I can.’

‘And you’ll look after yourself until me and Dad can straighten this out with the Bwy Hir and that?’

‘Yes, Gwyn.’ Anwen scrubbed at her eyes. ‘You just look after yourself and Dad – I’ll be fine.’

They were silent for rest of the car journey. As they pulled up to the train station Anwen felt her wrist and realised she’d left her bracelet in the bathroom, she’d left the mirror too and she felt somehow naked without them. ‘Gwyn, I’ve left my bracelet and a hand mirror at the house – look after them for me.’

They got out of the Land Rover together, scanning the area for any sign of Druids. ‘Sure. Do you want me to wait with you, just until the train comes?’ Gwyn had his hands stuffed in his pockets and he pulled out a small edge of bank notes and small coins. ‘Here.’ He passed it all to Anwen.

‘No. Go. Go back to the farm.’ Anwen grabbed her brother and held him in a long hug before releasing him and shoving him away. ‘Go on. Go.’ She urged him, brushing tears off her cheeks.

Gwyn walked backwards to the car. ‘Look after yourself, Anwen, and I’ll see you soon, right?’

‘Right.’ Anwen watched her brother leave, his hand waving goodbye out of the car window. She waited until he was out of sight before walking into the station.

The board said the next train due was to Manchester and Anwen boarded it as it arrived in the station. She would be able to get off at Crewe and get a direct train to London from there. She just hoped Mary would take her in again, until she could sort herself out.

With a weary sigh Anwen leaned back in her seat as the trained pulled off. She knew in her heart of hearts that this time there would be no returning home. This time there was no going back; the Bwy Hir would never leave her or her child alone and Anwen had no intention of giving her child over to them – not ever.

Anwen reached up to touch the scabby tattoo above her ear, she pulled her hair over to hide it. She couldn’t wait for her hair to regrow and hide it completely. Her leg still throbbed when she walked and the stitches had begun to itch, hopefully Mary would remove them for her.

Anwen delved into her cardigan pocket and pulled out the small book Taliesin had thrust at her back at the house. Opening the cover she scanned the handwritten pages but couldn’t bring herself to read Taliesin’s writing and so she closed it and returned it to her pocket. Maybe she would read later.

Anwen’s eyes were growing heavy as she leaned her head back to rest, but she couldn’t sleep for fear of missing her stop, so she instead went to find the buffet car, just as she had the last time she fled Wales. ‘I’m sorry, Aunt Nerys,’ she said to the train ceiling, ‘I’m going to have to miss your funeral.’

She sighed a heavy drawn out sigh as she stumbled towards the buffet car. She hoped her father and Gwyn coped alright at Nerys’ funeral, they would need each other for support and Anwen would not be there to help.
Dad will look after Gwyn
, Anwen assured herself,
he’d not manage without him – he needs Dad more than I do.

Anwen contented herself with the knowledge that Gwyn was not alone – not like her, but then Anwen wasn’t exactly alone; she had a baby growing inside her and she intended to do everything –
everything
– to ensure it was protected. ‘Tea and a bacon sandwich please,’ she said as she reached the buffet car and that made her smile: leaving wasn’t as painful the second time round.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

‘Dad?’ Gwyn called out as he turned the engine off and stepped onto the cobbles in the farm’s yard. ‘Dad? Bara?’ The yard was completely silent. ‘Dad?’ he called again as he trudged through the thawing snow towards the house.

A pitiful whining stopped him in his tracks and he spun on his heels. He followed the wretched noise to the barn and poked his head inside. ‘Bara?’

Bara was hiding behind a bale of hay. She was shaking and whining, her tail tugged underneath her and her head hanging low. ‘What is it, Bara?’ Gwyn stooped down and picked her up in his arms. ‘I got you,’ he soothed, ‘you’re alright now. Where’s Dad, eh?’

He carried her from the barn and pushed the back door open with his hip. ‘Dad?’ he called and then he noticed the charred door. He carefully put Bara down and she immediately pelted upstairs to Dafydd’s room.

The door to the front room was hanging in tattered pieces. There was no sign of Taliesin or his father. He stood in the hallway and wracked his brain.
Where is Dad? Do the Druids have him?

‘Gwyn Morgan.’ A familiar voice behind him made him turn around. Awel was stooped in the doorway. ‘May I come in?’ Gwyn nodded and Awel bent her head as she followed Gwyn into the kitchen.

‘What’s going on? Where’s Dad?’ he looked up at her with sad, mistrustful eyes.

‘I’m sorry, Gwyn Morgan,’ Awel said, dropping to one knee so she could look Gwyn in the eye, ‘your father is dead. I’m so sorry.’

Gwyn took a step back. ‘You’re lying!’ he blurted, as his hands went to his head. Awel shook her head sadly, and said softly, ‘I speak the truth. Your father shot a Helgi and aimed his gun at a Seeker. The Seeker used Derwydd yn tân to defend himself … I’m so very sorry, Gwyn Morgan.’

‘No. No. No.’ Gwyn took another step back until his back hit the Aga. ‘Oh no.’ Gwyn’s shoulder slumped and his face creased, and he began to sob. ‘No Dad, please, no.’

Awel rushed to him and enveloped the small man in her arms, consoling him as he cried. ‘Where is he?’ Gwyn blubbered, ‘Where’s my dad?’

Awel stroked his hair as she rocked him gently. ‘He and Nerys have been taken to the Chosen undertaker to await burial.’

‘Anwen doesn’t know,’ he sobbed, ‘she thinks Dad is alive. What am I going to do? Anwen’s gone.’

‘Anwen is safe – for now. I know where she has gone and she will be safe there. She need not be told of your father’s death, it will bring her back and she is not safe here, you must keep her away, Gwyn, you must.’ Gwyn nodded his head in her arms. ‘Gwyn, I have sent for Dai Jones and his wife to come to you here, they will help you, but I must go now. If you need me, ask Elizabeth Jones to contact me and I will help you any way I can but for now, I must leave.’

Gwyn withdrew from her embrace and wiped his face with his sleeve. He didn’t look up as she silently left him, he stayed staring at the floor. He didn’t look up as Dai Jones pulled his car into the yard, nor when Liz and Dai rushed to him and threw their arms around him; Gwyn was lost, completely lost in his own grief.

‘I’ve got you now,’ Dai said, as his huge arms squeezed Gwyn’s shoulders. ‘And me too.’ Liz’s muffled voice came from somewhere around his chest as she hugged him tightly. ‘We’ll look after you, Gwyn.’

Gwyn wasn’t listening to what they were saying. He was listening to the voice inside his head, a sad, bitter, voice repeating itself over and over again:
‘We of the Druid Order would vouchsafe to receive you and bless you, to release you from the darkness, absolve you of all former vows, to give you protection and grant you service to the Bwy Hir through us, their representatives. Do you freely of your own volition embrace the three in one: Chosen, Druid, Bwy Hir … I do so embrace.’

How Gwyn hated those words and so he added some of his own with all the conviction he could summon, speaking out loud he said, ‘I, Gwyn Morgan of Ty Mawr Farm do solemnly swear to ensure that Anwen’s child will never, ever suffer the yoke of the Triskele … I do so embrace.’