The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy (72 page)

BOOK: The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy
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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

‘Wake up Anwen!’ Gwyn raised his voice, watching with worried concern as Anwen twisted and whimpered in the passenger seat as they drove down the grey soulless motorway.

Anwen sat bolt upright. ‘He’s coming!’ Her voice quivered in fear, her eyes wide and terrified.

‘Anwen, it was a dream – just a bad dream, you’re okay.’ Gwyn kept his hands on the driving wheel but his attention swung between the tarmac and the inside of the cab. ‘You’re okay.’

Anwen rubbed her hands with her face as Davy whimpered in a nightmare of his own
, sleeping huddled between them in a bundle of coats. ‘Is he alright?’ Gwyn looked down on Davy’s face. A worried frown creased his tiny forehead and pulled at the corners of his mouth. ‘Should you wake him?’

Anwen sighed
. ‘Can you pull over at the next service station? I’ll wake him then. He’ll need to use the toilet and I’ll get him something to eat.’

Gwyn nodded
. ‘There’s one coming up in a mile or so. I could do with a break.’

‘Where are we?’ Anwen stared out of the window. It was starting to get light as the first rays of the morning sun blushed on the horizon and banished the darkness back to the shadows. A low mist hung over the fields that lined the motorway, encroaching against the fences and crash barriers as if attempting to reclaim its land.

‘We’re on the A470 – not much farther now.’ Gwyn blinked and yawned. ‘There’s a road map in the glove box.’

Anwen leaned forward and retrieved the battered and worn
road atlas before spreading in out on her lap and flicking through the pages. When she had found the page she was looking for, she delved into the foot well and rummaged in her rucksack before pulling out a small black leather bound book. Setting it on top of the atlas she opened its pages and compared the two.

‘What you doing Anwen?’ Gwyn already knew the answer; he’d seen that book before. ‘What did Taliesin give you?’

‘Knowledge.’ Anwen didn’t look up. ‘He gave me knowledge, Gwyn. In here is the location of every Cerdd Carega in existence.’

‘So? We’re not going to be using them, are we? They’re all being watched; it’s too dangerous.’ H
is voice held an admonitory note of disapproval.

‘They can’t be watching
all
of them.’ Anwen turned her head towards him. ‘There are too many and besides, some are so old and unused they are probably forgotten.’

‘We’re sticking to the plan, Anwen.’ Gwyn sounded sterner than he’d intended.

‘And if the plan doesn’t stick to us?’ Anwen retorted. ‘Who owns this Gwiddon Farm anyway? What if they can’t be trusted? What if they’re not even there when we arrive? What then, Gwyn?’ Davy whimpered in his sleep and Anwen placed a calming hand on his forehead and hushed him.

Gwyn gripped the steering wheel and ground his teeth. He knew she was right – she was always bloody right. ‘Service station’s just up ahead,’ he announced
, as he flicked the indicator off and began to pull off onto the junction that led to the jarringly lit station squatting on the hillside. ‘We’ll grab breakfast and I’ll get some more petrol before we carry on to Gwiddon Farm.’ There. He’d said it. They
were
going to Gwiddon Farm just as Awel had arranged.

Anwen gently shook Davy awake as Gwyn parked the van. Davy was bleary eyed and happy to be carried inside, resting his head on his mother’s shoulder as he sucked his thumb, again with that faraway look in his eye. Gwyn didn’t know much about children, but he knew something was wrong with the boy; maybe he’d ask Anwen later. He followed behind them and ordered breakfast while Anwen took Davy into the toilets.

Gwyn sipped at his mug of tea and deliberated. What if Anwen was right? What if Gwiddon Farm wasn’t safe? It was his job to get Anwen and Davy back home and into the Dell – it was the safest place for them, wasn’t it? A worm of reluctance made his stomach lurch; if they went into the Dell he would be alone again. His thoughts turned to Bara. He wished he’d kept her with him. He hoped she wasn’t fretting while he was away.

‘The tea that bad?’ Anwen slipped into the seat opposite him, deposited Davy on the chair next to her and placed her rucksack at her feet. He was so small his eyes barely cleared the table top and Gwyn couldn’t help but smile
. ‘The tea’s fine – wet and warm – no, I was just thinking about home.’

The breakfast arrived and Gwyn tucked in with gusto. Anwen cut hers into small pieces and pulled Davy onto her lap, sharing toast and sausage while spooning the beans into Davy’s mouth with a teaspoon.

‘Listen, Gwyn,’ Anwen spoke over Davy’s head. ‘I need to get home faster than we’ve been travelling … I need to get Davy back into the Dell.’ Davy heard his name and raised his head from the plate and smiled. ‘Eat your breakfast all up so you can be a big boy like Uncle Gwyn.’ Davy returned to his plate.

‘You want to use the Cerdd Caregas don’t you?’ Gwyn pushed his empty plate away.

‘Yes.’ Anwen was calm, not her usual bolshy self. ‘He’s coming, Gwyn. Arawn is coming and I need to get Davy where he can’t get to him … The Druid back in Cardiff saw us – saw the van too – they’ll be looking for us … We’re in a race now and it’s going to have to be a sprint finish.’

‘What have you got in mind, Anwen.’ Gwyn sighed with resignation
. ‘The Cerdd Carega are being watched.’

‘And so are
the Gwrachod

you told me so yourself – and this Gwiddon Farm, I’m presuming they’re part of the Gwrachod too, but there are some Cerdd Carega that will not be watched, we can use them.’

‘How do you know which ones are watched and which ones are not?’ Gwyn leaned back in his chair and studied his sister over the rim of his mug as she used one hand to steady Davy and one hand to rummage in her rucksack.

‘Look.’ She placed the black note book between them and opened the pages. ‘Here’s a shocker for you,’ she ran her finger down the list of names and places all handwritten in brown ink by a precise hand. Next to each name, some of which Gwyn recognised, were an array of symbols, some in blue or black, others in red and the one Anwen stopped her finger at was a green circle with a cross within. ‘The green ones are churches.’ Anwen raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Gwyn was lost – again. ‘I don’t understand.’ He scratched the back of his head and Anwen rolled her eyes.

‘Here.’ She flicked on a few pages and with deft fingers opened the centre of the book. ‘Pull out the pages; there’s a map.’

He leaned over and gently unfolded both sides of the inner pages to reveal a skilfully drawn map
. ‘It’s Britain?’ Anwen nodded. It was incredibly detailed; the shore line etched with tiny waves, hills, mountains and rivers all shown with precise hashed lines and curves, but the most intriguing where the symbols dotted all over the map, red, green, black and blue.

Most of the symbols were black spirals, some were red spirals with a downward facing triangle, others were blue spirals with an upward facing triangle, and the green were a circle with a Christian cross in its centre. Gwyn was both fascinated and perplexed; he looked across the table to Anwen pleading enlightenment.

‘Red is Cerdd Carega only female Bwy Hir can use. Blue is only male. Black is both. Green … there the Cerdd Carega is positioned on holy ground – churches, Gwyn. There are Cerdd Carega in churches!’

‘Really? You sure?’ Gwyn was sceptical.

‘Yes.’ Anwen was enthused. ‘I’ve checked one or two out myself. Only in the ancient churches, but they are there, hidden in the graveyards or within the churches themselves … there is one in Llanrhychwyn Church, just on the edge of Gwydir Forest itself.’

‘But how do we get there?’ Gwyn leaned forward in his chair, urging Anwen to reveal more and she obliged by flicking over some more pages.

‘This book is like the road atlas in your van.’ She found the page she wanted and held it down so Gwyn could see for himself. This page held another map, one of Wales and it only showed green symbols. Each symbol was connected with a thin green line and beside each symbol was the name of a church. He found roughly where they were in relation to the map and then followed the line that connected to Llanrhychwyn. Only two jumps: a short drive, two jumps and three churches to home.

Gwyn pursed his lips
. ‘How do we get from Llanrhychwyn Church to the Cerdd Carega outside the Dell without being caught? The whole valley will be crawling with Druids, Bradychwr, Helgi and god knows what else.’

Arawn shook her head and stared at the open book as if it would provide an answer. ‘I don’t know.’ Her shoulders slumped but her eye was caught by something dangling from Gwyn’s wrist. ‘Do you trust Awel, Gwyn? I mean, do you
really
trust her?’

Gwyn rubbed his chin and thought long and hard before answering, ‘Yes. Yes I do.’

‘Good, ‘cause she knows where we are.’ Anwen smiled as she reached over and pulled back her brother’s cuff revealing the silver bracelet and the tiny acorn dangling from the chain. ‘And all we need to do is tell her where to meet us.’

‘I’d forgotten about that.’ He looked down at his wrist. ‘I need to make a phone call.’ He twisted in his seat
. ‘I need to get a message to Liz.’

‘Tell her we’ll be at Llanrhychwyn Church by nightfall.’ Anwen pressed her lips together and remained in her seat as Gwyn stood up and traipsed off to find a public telephone.

Fishing in his jeans pockets he pulled out some silver coins, grabbed the receiver, fed the coins into the slot, dialled the number and waited.

‘Hello?’ A harassed and upset voice spoke down the phone. Gwyn could hear raised voices and what sounded like occasional knocking on a window.

‘Hello, Dai? Is that you?’

‘Bloody hell, Gwyn!’ Dai hushed his voice and whispered
. ‘Is that you, boy?’

‘Yes. What’s up? What’s all the commotion?’

‘Oh,’ Dai moaned down the phone, ‘It’s the bloody Ysbrydion! I didn’t do the salting, like Glyn-Guinea said and now my mirror’s beset by banging and scratching and I can see ‘em, the filthy buggers, just behind the glass!’

‘What?’ Gwyn couldn’t make sense of what he was being told
. ‘Dai, listen, I need to speak to Liz.’

‘What?’ Dai shouted over another bang followed by a sinister tap-tap-tap that made Gwyn’s skin crawl. ‘Where are you Gwyn? Are you alright?’

‘Liz!’ I need to speak to Liz!’ Gwyn raised his voice and then hunched his shoulders hoping no one in the service station was staring at him.

‘Oh. Hold on, hold on.’ Dai called Liz’s name
. ‘Come quick.’

There was a silent pause and then Gwyn heard Liz’s shaky voice
. ‘H-hello?’

‘Liz, its Gwyn – just listen – you need to get a message to Awel. Tell her we’re coming home but not the way she said. Tell her we’ll be in Llanrhychwyn Church by nightfall. You got that, Liz?’

‘Yes. I hear you.’ Another bang. ‘Oh, God, Gwyn, are you sure you should come back? All hell’s breaking loose here.’

‘We have to. All three of us – you hear, Liz – all three.’

‘Oh, oh, Okay. I’ll do it now. Look after yourself, all of you. Do you want to speak to Dai?’

‘No. Just get the message to Awel.’ He hung up.

Anwen and Davy weren’t where he left them and that caused him a flutter of panic until he spied them in the open shop across from the café. He waved to catch Anwen’s attention and pointed towards the van as she handed over her money to the cashier while Davy stood absently beside her.

By the time all three wer
e together in the van it was full daylight and Gwyn realised he hadn’t slept at all. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his fists and yawned.

‘You’ll need to sleep at some point. Why don’t you let me drive for a while?’ Anwen clicked Davy’s seatbelt in place.

‘You’ve learned to drive?’ Gwyn blinked at her.

‘I can drive
,’ she replied defensively, ‘I don’t have a licence, but I can drive.’

Gwyn snorted, ‘I remember what you did to PC James
’ VW Campervan … I’ll drive.’ He turned the key in the ignition and the engine spring to life. Anwen crossed her arms defensively and threw him a peevish scowl. Gwyn laughed out loud, put the van into gear and released the handbrake. ‘Where to?’

Anwen tutted but pulled out her black book and consulted the
road atlas. ‘St Tydecho's Church is in the village of Cemmaes – stay on the A470 until we see the signs for it.’

Gwyn nodded and set the van in motion. ‘Are you sure about this?’

‘No,’ Anwen replied. ‘Are you?’

‘No.’ Gwyn pulled onto the motorway and with a grim nod of determination accelerated towards the village of Cemmaes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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