The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy (68 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY

Cadno struggled towards consciousness. Distant echoes floated through his awareness, rippling away before he could identify the sound or where it was coming from. He felt detached from his own body as he swam in the inky blackness of his mind.

Slowly, sluggishly he became aware of a throbbing pain in his right leg pulsing to a similar pain in his head. He began to make sense of sound; the drip, drip, drip of water nearby, the hushed whisper of voices. Voices. Cadno’s eyes snapped open.

He blinked. Despite his eyes being open he could see very little from where he lay sprawled on the ground. He felt the cool and moist soil beneath the palm of his hand.
Where am I
? He struggled to roll on his side, breathing hard as a wave of nausea threatened to send him back into oblivion.

From his new vantage point he could see the dim glow of torches in the distance and beside them ran wooden fencing he presumed were some sort of stock pens. Above him there was no sky, no stars or clouds, only oppressive darkness. He inhaled the smell of damp soil, of domestic animals, of
Human sweat all jumbled together in a fetid stew of staleness.

He blinked again. Closer to him was a line of white stretching away from his line of sight. He smelt candles and something metallic, something he didn’t at first recognise and then it dawned on him; the smell was blood.

He struggled onto all fours and finally onto his shaky legs, tottering where he stood as he looked around, trying to make sense of what his eyes were telling him. Then he heard the voice and his heart sunk.

Atgas’ mocking voice called from the darkness
. ‘You looked so sweet while you were sleeping, almost childlike. I didn’t have the heart to wake you.’ Her cold laugh peeled through the shadows.

‘You have a heart?’ Cadno stopped her mirth. He spun in a slow circle, followed the white line with his eyes. He was standing in a circle; he was trapped. ‘Alchemy, Atgas, really?’
He made his voice light and flippant but his pulse beat faster and faster. ‘A witch’s trick. You think this can hold me?’

Atgas stepped forward into the candle light that ringed the white circle etched onto the ground. Within the circle were five lines arranged to form a five pointed star. Runes spiralled between the lines all created using salt, mercury, sulphur and blood.

‘You like your new accommodation, Cadno?’ Atgas stalked around the outside of the circle. ‘I would very much like to see you try to escape.’

‘Now why would I want to escape?’ Cadno felt dizzy but he painted on a smile and followed Atgas with his eyes. She tipped her head to one side and studied him for a moment.
What game is he playing? Does he not realise where he is?

She changed her tack. ‘Arawn sends his regards, he’s very busy at the moment but I’m sure he’ll get to you sooner or later.’

‘I can’t wait.’ Cadno sat down on the moist ground and rested his forearms on his knees. ‘There’s something I need to speak to him about.’

Atgas pursed her lips. ‘And what would that be?’

Cadno chuckled and shook his head. ‘I want to speak to the king, Atgas, not the court jester.’

Atgas hissed in fury, threw her hand forward and aimed a flash of lightning at Cadno’s head. A flash of white light filled the cavern. The lightning dissipated as soon as it reached the circle’s edge.

Cadno shook his head and tutted. ‘You of all people should know that nothing can cross an alchemic circle, really Atgas, you should know better.’ With a venomous scowl Atgas vanished back into the darkness. He kept his smile in place but inside him hope flickered and then faded.

He remained seated, outwardly calm, inwardly panicked. His plan had been a simple one: find Arawn’s lair, offer an alliance and find the female Helgi. He had intended to spirit her away and find some way of restoring her to her original form – surely that would be payment enough? The evil undone? Then he would be able to enter the Dell once more before anyone found out and bring with him as much intelligence as he could deliver to Aeron and throw himself on his mercy. If he could not find the female, then should the opportunity arise, he intended to kill Arawn and thus not only rid the world of evil but restore himself in Aeron’s eyes. If he still couldn’t enter the Dell after destroying Arawn, well surely the Bwy Hir would believe his exile from the Dell was because of him killing Arawn and take pity. Surely that would be enough?

But that was before he had woken up trapped in an alchemy circle; prisoner not an ally. How was he going to wriggle out of his current predicament?

Cadno cursed his stupidity. He had been so intent on following the Wraith Warrior that he hadn’t realised the ambush until he had felt the arrow pierce his skin, not just any arrow but one laced with a toxin that had rendered him unconscious almost immediately. He presumed for that he had Atgas to thank. ‘Witch, hag, sorceress, sibyl.’ He cursed her under his breath. She was more dangerous than he had given her credit for.

Cadno was in a dire predicament; he didn’t know where he was, what Atgas had planned for him, nor any idea on how he was to escape. He needed a plan.

He heard a scraping noise behind him. Snivelling his head he watched as a torchlight bobbed and weaved in the darkness. As it drew closer he could make out two figures, both Human in stature; one carrying the torch and one carrying a book. Cadno’s eyebrow shot up as the two figures passed to the left of his circle. One was a Druid, one he recognised from the Dduallt – not a Seeker, but a lowly Kennel Keeper. He wasn’t the one that caused Cadno’s amazement, the one that shocked him was the preacher man. What was a man of God doing in the midst of Arawn’s stronghold?

‘Cristion! Cristion!’ Cadno called out. ‘I would speak with you.’

The preacher cringed as the Kennel Keeper gripped his arm tighter. ‘He speaks to no-one but Arawn,’ the Keeper said, sneering, ‘and you’re in no position to make any demands.’

Cadno glared as they moved on into the darkness. How dare a Druid speak to one of the Bwy Hir so? Cadno made a mental note that when he escaped his current confinement he was going to flay the hide off that traitorous “
Bradychwr”
.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Gwyn’s heart was in his mouth as he crept the van slowly along the road towards the church, keeping it in first gear ready to accelerate at a moment’s notice if he so much as sniffed a trap.

‘Please be you, Anwen, please, please be you,’ he whispered over and over again, as he peered through the windscreen onto the darkened rain slicken street. He used his sleeve to clear the mist from the inside of the windscreen as he came to a stop a short distance from the church.

The roads were deserted, the pavements abandoned, the church dark. The grass lawns that separated Gwyn from the church were shrouded in darkness. ‘Where are you Anwen?’ He wound his window down and squinted through the drizzle. He debated whether he should get out of the van and go to the church doors. What if she was waiting inside? He pursed his lips together and checked the van mirrors. He saw no sign of anyone approaching. He scanned the grass again but could see nothing.

He was about to turn the engine off and get out of the van when a blinding flash of light streaked past the windscreen. Gwyn instinctively raised his arm to cover his face. He heard the passenger door open.

‘Bloody drive!’ Anwen, it was Anwen! She threw a large bundle into the seat between them, jumped in and slammed the door. ‘They’ve followed you here – drive you idiot!’

Gwyn slammed his foot on the accelerator and the van lurched down the street. Gwyn looked into the rear view mirror as a Druid ran into the road behind them, raising his arm as if to shoot. Anwen was winding down her window and for a second Gwyn thought she was going to jump out but instead she swung out her arm and aimed a shot of white lightning from her palm. The Druid threw himself off the road and into the shadow of the church. Gwyn changed gear, threw the van around a corner and sped off. Anwen pulled her head back in and wound the window up before turning to Gwyn. ‘Keep going, don’t stop.’

‘Bloody hell Anwen!’ Gwyn’s eyes were wide, his expression conveyed a mixture of shock and relief as he flicked his eyes between Anwen and the road ahead. ‘You know how to make a bloody entrance!’

Anwen smiled. She had changed so much; her hair had been severely cut short, close to her head and had been died almost black, making her look more elfin than ever. Gwyn was amazed at how different she looked, but it was Anwen – he had his sister back.

She shrugged a backpack off her back before leaning over and pulling the bundle she’d plonked in the seat between them upright. Gwyn blinked and nearly crashed the van as the bundle pushed back a hood to reveal the most beautiful little face Gwyn had ever seen. ‘Davy!’ he blurted, ‘Bloody hell!’

The face split into an angelic little smile and his big eyes sparkled as he looked up at Gwyn. Anwen fussed with his seat belt and his little legs popped out from underneath him and stuck out like two stalks. He was tiny, much smaller than Gwyn had imagined him to be.

Davy’s skin was as smooth and white as a marble statue. His hair and eyes were raven dark, like his father’s, but his little nose and rosebud mouth was all Anwen.

Anwen smiled and pulled her own seatbelt over her shoulder while checking behind them in the wing mirror. ‘Keep driving for now.’ She kept her eyes on the road behind them. ‘Didn’t you realise you were being followed?’ Her voice held a tinge of accusation.

‘I didn’t see anyone until you made your entrance.’ Gwyn shot her a scowl. ‘Since when can you wield Derwydd yn
tân
?’

‘I don’t.’ Anwen sat back in her seat. ‘It’s similar but not the same, I’m not sure I can explain it … I can do lots of things if I put my mind to it – I’ve had a long time to practice. Where’s Dad?’

Gwyn stiffened. He knew he would have had to broach the subject sooner or later but he hadn’t expected it as soon as this. ‘Anwen …’

‘He’s dead isn’t he?’ Anwen pressed her lips together and smiled down sadly at her son who was looking up and swivelling his head between the two adults.

Gwyn swallowed. ‘Yes.’ He kept his eyes on the road ahead.

‘And you’ve come to take me back?’ Anwen held Davy’s hand and raised her head to watch the white lines of the road slip underneath the van and disappear.

‘All hell’s broke loose at home, Anwen. You and Davy are in danger until I can get you back to the Dell.’

Anwen snorted. ‘Nerys and Dad are dead and you think the safest place is back at home? Have you heard anything from Mary?’

Gwyn gripped the steering wheel, released his pressure on the accelerator and brought the van to a stop at the side of the road. He turned to his sister. She had changed so much; her hair had been cut so short, her face was harder somehow and she had lost weight. She looked tired but not frail, he could sense the steel lying just beneath the surface, but he still chose his words carefully so as not to hurt her, ‘Mary’s gone, Anwen, she died in a house fire.’

‘I had a feeling something was wrong … I dream, Gwyn, I see things … Mary in the fire, Bryn-Wisgi in a prison; he cries a lot.’ Her big grey-blues eyes looked into those of her brother. ‘I saw Dad, years ago, when I first left … burning – he was burning – there was no sound, no screaming, just silence as he stood and burned.’ Her voice trailed off.

‘Derwydd yn
tân
.’ Gwyn cleared his throat. ‘There was an inquest but the jury found the Seeker innocent – said it was self-defence.’

‘Were you there?’ Anwen whispered.

‘No.’ Gwyn wiped his eyes with a corner of his sleeve. ‘He died alone Anwen, I wasn’t there … I wasn’t there.’ He shook his head sadly.

‘Bara.’ Davy spoke but didn’t make eye contact; he just looked ahead as if seeing something in the distance. Gwyn blinked at the little boy perched in between himself and Anwen.

‘Did he say Bara?’ Gwyn looked into Anwen’s indulgent eyes as she patted Davy’s hand.

‘Yep. I’ve told him all about the farm, about Bara and Dad.’ She heaved a sigh, turned her head away and looked into the wing mirror. ‘We need to get going. I presume you have a plan to get us “safely to the Dell” – Where is Bara?’

‘With Awel in the Dell. I have instructions from Awel.’ He patted his chest and only then realised he was not wearing his jacket. ‘Bloody hell, where’s my jacket?’

‘Is this it?’ Anwen pulled a damp jacket from the foot well.

Gwyn nodded. ‘Check the pocket, there’s an address and they’re waiting for us.’ Gwyn pulled the van off from the side of the road and continued to follow the signs for the motorway as Anwen unfolded the piece of paper and read out loud, ‘
Gwiddon Farm, Cynghordy? That’s miles away, mid Wales, isn’t it? You are going to need to stop for petrol.’

‘Yes, I do know that.’ Gwyn growled. They had only been reunited for minutes and she was already telling him what to do. ‘I rescued you, remember?’ he said sarcastically.

Anwen raised her eyebrows. ‘I think you’ll find I rescued you – from the Druid, remember?’

‘He was after you, not me!’ he raised his voice incredulously
. ‘I’m the one who rescued you! I’m the one driving you back home!’

‘I can take care of myself,’ Anwen snapped back, ‘and I could get us back a damn-sight faster via the Cerdd Carega-’

‘No you bloody can’t,’ Gwyn replied with some satisfaction, ‘’cause all the stones are being watched by Bradychwr and Cwn-Annwn-Helgi-Dog-Things, so you don’t know everything, do you?’

‘Bradychwr? Traitors?’ Anwen’s eyebrows knitted
. ‘Cwn-Annwn? Hunting dogs from myths? What are you talking about?’

‘The Triskele is in pieces, Anwen.’ Gwyn lowered his voice
. ‘It’s all broken – they can’t use the mirrors because of Ysbrydion – the Druids stay behind their walls at Maen-Du – The Cwn Annwn things, they’re like Helgi, but meaner and they stalk the countryside at night ravaging anything they can get their teeth into – people are going missing – it’s all a bloody mess, Anwen.’

‘And Arawn? Where is he?’ Anwen twisted her head to stare in her brother’s face
. ‘Where is he?’ Her voice was urgent.

‘Nobody knows for sure.’ Gwyn scratched his head. ‘He’s in hiding in the Valleys somewhere. Anwen, you should know, he’s really real – I mean, he and Afaggdu, they are one in the same now. Annwn took his body … I can’t explain.’

Anwen turned deathly pale. ‘The raven and the deer.’ She muttered under her breath again and again, ‘The raven and the deer, the deer and the dragon.’

‘What?’ Gwyn felt his skin crawl. ‘What you saying, Anwen? What’s wrong?’

‘Y Ddraig Ddu yma?’ Davy piped up again, his voice dreamy and far away.

‘What’s he talking about, Anwen? Anwen?’

‘Stop the van, Gwyn.’

‘Anwen?’

‘Stop the bloody van!’ she shrieked.

Gwyn did what he was told and pulled the van over to the side of the road again. ‘What’s going on?’

Anwen had her hands pressed to her face, it took her a moment to begin speaking. ‘Gwyn, since Davy was old enough to speak he used to wake with nightmares – nightmares about a black dragon: Y Ddraig Ddu. I have those same nightmares, only I see the raven first, then a mighty deer swallows the raven and they become one.’ Anwen dropped her hands and rested one on her son’s lap. ‘Then the deer has huge raven’s wings and wicked black horns and it searches – sometimes for me and Davy – sometimes just for Davy. When he finds Davy he throws him to the floor and places a huge cloven foot on his chest and then the deer vanishes leaving the body of a dead raven behind. When the deer returns it has become Davy and Davy is a black dragon and then … all will be lost. He will destroy everything.
Everything
.’

Gwyn leaned over to rest a reassuring hand on Anwen’s arm. ‘It’s just bad dreams, Anwen.’

She pulled her arm away. ‘You don’t understand, Gwyn.’ She pulled Davy into an embrace. ‘Afagddu is the raven. Arawn is the deer. If he finds Davy he becomes the dragon n… you said before that “all hell had broken loose,” but it is nothing compared to the destruction he will unleash if he is not stopped.’

Gwyn felt helpless. Helpless to console his sister and nephew. Helpless for the right thing to say, the right thing to do. ‘What do you want me to do, Anwen?’

Anwen rested her chin on the top of her son’s head and looked in earnest at her brother. ‘We need to go home, Gwyn. Take us home.’

‘You sure?’  Anwen nodded.