The Mammoth Book of Celtic Myths and Legends (74 page)

With that the Lord Huddour led the youth back into the castle and into the great hall, from which many doors led off.

“Do you see these two doors?” demanded Lord Huddour, pointing to them.

“I do.”

“These doors must never be opened by you. If you open them, you will regret it. Do you understand?”

“I do, indeed,” affirmed Koadalan.

“Good. As for the rest of the castle, you may come and go as you please and pass through any other door.”

Having given Koadalan all his instructions, the Lord Huddour mounted his horse and rode away along the avenue of yew trees through which they had come.

Koadalan was left alone in the castle. For a while Koadalan wandered the splendid apartments of the castle and was amazed at its riches and wealth. He wondered who this Lord Huddour could be,
for surely no one except the kings of the five kingdoms of Armorica could be so rich and powerful?

Time passed and the youth grew hungry.

Suspiciously, he picked up the linen napkin and examined it carefully.

“I wonder if it was a hoax,” he said to himself. He stroked his chin and then, holding the napkin at arm’s length he intoned: “
Lien
,
lien
, do your task,
bring me a joint of roast beef and a bottle of good red wine!”

At once, in the blink of an eye, a great sizzling dish of roast beef and a bottle of the finest red wine were placed on the table and, moreover, the table was properly laid for the meal.

Koadalan ate and drank his fill and, feeling soporific, he fell asleep at the table.

When he woke up and noticed the lateness of the hour, he felt a little guilty.

“I’d better do the work, exactly as Lord Huddour told me.”

He went to rekindle the fire under the great cauldron, causing the flames to leap higher and higher around its bubbling contents. Then he heard from the depths of the cooking pot the sound of a
moaning and agonising wailing, like the crying of souls in torment. He hesitated a moment and then remembered Lord Huddour’s words. So he ignored the strange sounds and went to the stables.
He gave the clover and oats to the young foal and then turned reluctantly to the mare, whose name was Berc’hed. He took off his jacket, took up the holly stick and set to the task of beating
the mare. He was not enthusiastic about this, for he was a kindly and considerate young man.

As the first strokes fell, the mare suddenly cried out and said: “Stop! Have mercy on me, young man!”

Koadalan took a step back in astonishment. “Do my ears deceive me?” he demanded, looking at the mare. “Did you speak?”

“Yes. I was not always in this shape, young man. I was once in human form.”

Koadalan dropped the holly stick and shivered. “In what evil place am I? Can you tell me, mare?”

“You are in the Castle of Huddour, the greatest wizard in all the world. If you are not careful, you, too, will have your form changed when he tires of you. The same thing that has
happened to me will also happen to you.”

“Save me! Can no one escape from this terrible man?”

“It is difficult, young man. Though, if you will trust me and help me, we may both escape.”

“Anything,” agreed Koadalan eagerly.

“
Bennozh Doue!
” replied the mare, which is the Breton for “thank you”.

“What must I do?”

“Did Huddour show you two doors, beyond which you must not pass?”

“He did.”

“Then go to them. In those two rooms you will find three books bound in red leather. Two books are in the first room and the third book is in the other room. You must enter and take the
three books.”

Berc’hed the mare suddenly was hesitant. “I do not suppose you can read, though? Huddour does not bring any helper here who can read.”

“I lied to him,” admitted Koadalan. “I can read.”

“Then all may be well. Read the books and, if you learn what is written there, you will become a great wizard yourself. When Huddour loses the books, he will lose all his
powers.”

Koadalan immediately hurried to the two doors. He opened the first and saw two red leather-bound books on a table in the centre of the room. He took these and went to the second door. Sure
enough, there was a third book there, lying in the manner of the first book. He took them into the dining room of the castle and sat down and began to read
them. He was amazed
at what he read and, curiously, found he was able to grasp all the intricate concepts of the books.

When he had finished, he went down to the stable.

Berc’hed was waiting impatiently. The mare seemed anxious and let out a sigh when she saw Koadalan.

“You have been a long time,” she admonished.

“There were three books to read,” replied Koadalan defensively.

“You have read them all?”

“I have.”

“Then we must leave this place. Firstly, you will find a great eagle perched on top of the highest tower of this castle. At the moment, it is sleeping with its head tucked under its wing.
But if we leave, it will wake and make such a din and cry out that Huddour will hear its cry, no matter where in this world he is. So therefore, you must go to it and tie it so that it cannot raise
its head from beneath its wing.”

Koadalan did as she told him and found the task comparatively easy.

“Can we leave now?”

“No. Secondly, there is a great bell in the square tower of the castle, which will start to ring if we leave and its ringing will be heard by Huddour, no matter what part of the world he
is in. You must go to the bell and remove its clapper.”

Koadalan went and found the bell and removed its clapper, so that when the bell started to move, it made no sound at all.

“Can we leave now?” demanded Koadalan.

“No,” replied the mare. “Thirdly, you must wrap straw and oakum around my hooves, so that I do not make any noise on the courtyard pavement as we leave.”

Koadalan did so.

“Can we leave now?”

“That we can,” replied Berc’hed, the mare. “But first, take that sponge you see in the corner, that bundle of straw, the currycomb – which is a comb of metal for
dressing a horse – and, above all things, do not forget to hold tight to your three red leather-bound books.”

Koadalan gathered all these things up.

“Now,” said Berc’hed, “climb on my back, and we shall leave.”

As soon as Koadalan was mounted, the mare left the stable and cantered through the courtyard and out of the gates and then they were away, galloping through the air. Koadalan hung on tightly
with his packages.

After a while the mare called: “Look behind us; can you see if we are being followed?”

Koadalan glanced behind.

“There is a pack of hunting hounds following.”

“Quick, then! Throw the bundle of straw at them.”

Koadalan did so. At once the hounds leapt on it and carried it off in triumph back in the direction of the castle.

After a while, Berc’hed called: “Look behind again; are we being followed?”

Koadalan looked behind. “There’s only a cloud coming towards us. But it is a black one, almost blotting out the daylight.”

“Huddour is in the middle of that cloud. Quickly, throw the currycomb into it.”

Koadalan did so.

Out of the black cloud he saw Lord Huddour stop and retrieve the comb and then disappear back in the direction of the castle.

After a while, Berc’hed called: “Look behind again; are we still being followed?”

Koadalan did so. “Save us, there is a great flock of ravens descending on us.”

“Then throw the sponge at them!”

Koadalan did so. The ravens seized the sponge, fighting over it, and flew with it back to the castle.

There was now a river ahead of them.

“Once beyond the river, we shall be safe, for Huddour’s power does not extend that far,” gasped the mare, for she was now tired out. “Is anything still following
us?”

Koadalan glanced around.

“Save our souls! There is a giant black dog, hard on our heels.”

Berc’hed sped on as hard as she could to the river and leapt
across, but as she did so the great black dog came close and managed to bite a great chunk of horse hair
from her tail.

Then they were across the water and the great black dog was forced to halt on the bank behind them, spitting out horse hair. It turned into the figure of Huddour.

Berc’hed stood exhausted but safe on the far bank, while Koadalan slid from her back.

“You are lucky to escape me, treacherous youth!” thundered the wizard from the other side of the river. “Nevertheless, I am willing to forgive you, so long as you return my
three books.”

“I know the secret of the books, Huddour. I am not likely to return them to you.”

“I will have them!” howled the wizard.

“Come and get them,” sneered Koadalan.

But the magician had no powers on the far side of the river now he had lost his books and so he left, cursing and angry.

Koadalan turned to Berc’hed and made sure the old mare was recovered from her exertions and then they both continued on their way. It was not long, however, before they came to a great
circle of standing stones. Berc’hed went directly into the centre of the stone circle.

“What is it?” demanded Koadalan. “Why have we stopped?”

“Because it is here that you must kill me, Koadalan,” replied the mare calmly.

“God save me! Not I. I would never do such a thing. Why, you saved my life. How do you expect me to kill you?”

“You must kill me, I tell you. If you do not, everything that has been done so far will be undone. You must cut my throat and slit open my belly.”

“What are you saying?” Koadalan was aghast.

“You must!”

Finally, the old mare persuaded Koadalan to do the deed and, as much as he felt repulsion, he followed her instructions. No sooner had he cut the mare’s throat and slit open her belly than
a most beautiful young woman emerged. She was radiant and shone with the ethereal beauty of a goddess.

“Who are you?” demanded Koadalan in astonishment.

“I have told you. I am Berc’hed, daughter of the Good God.”

“You are so beautiful,” gasped Koadalan.

The young woman looked at him sadly. “Yet I am not for you, Koadalan. You are destined to live in this world while I and my kind live in the Otherworld. Never fear, though, your destiny is
to have a wife, and one more beautiful than I.I will tell you this much. Your wife will be the daughter of the king of Poher. However, remember this. Should you ever need help at any time, come
here to this stone circle and call out three times – ‘Berc’hed! Berc’hed! Berc’hed!’ – and I shall return to aid you. Above all, Koadalan, remember that
you must not be parted from the three red leather-bound books. Always sleep with them at night under your pillow, for this is the only way of safeguarding them from the evil ones who will try to
steal them. Remember that, Koadalan.”

So saying, a great white cloud descended on her and she vanished in its brilliant light.

Koadalan was very sad but he had been told his destiny, so he set off for the kingdom of Poher. On his way, he used his new-found magic knowledge to bedeck himself in fine clothes, with jewels
and a good horse and weapons, so that by the time he arrived at the court of the king of Poher, he looked every inch a prince. He did not lie, but many took him for the Prince of Domnonée.
So he was made welcome at King Bertele’s court.

Now King Bertele of Poher was generally a good man, but he had seen the evil in the world and how young man of ambition sought to better themselves. King Bertele had a beautiful daughter, whose
name was Keredwen. She was of marriageable age, but rather than expose her to all the self-assertive social climbers, seeking status and her money, he had shut her up in one of his palace towers
with a maidservant to attend her wants.

Now after Koadalan had spent a few nights at King Bertele’s palace, and being called
keniterv
, that is “cousin”, by the king, he began to wonder why he had not seen the
princess Keredwen.

“I thought you had a daughter, Bertele?” he asked one day.

“No, cousin. I have no daughter,” King Bertele assured him.

It was later that day when Koadalan was walking in the palace gardens that a golden ball fell at his feet. He glanced up and saw the face of a beautiful golden-haired girl peering down at him
from the window of a tower. She smiled pleasantly and it seemed that she had tossed the ball deliberately to attract his attention. But just then, King Bertele came into the garden and the girl
withdrew her head immediately.

“What is this?” asked Koadalan, holding out the ball.

“Oh, it is nothing,” replied Bertele, but took the ball swiftly from him.

That evening Koadalan, alone in his room in the palace consulted his three red leather-bound books. By these means, he was able to materialize before the door of the room of the Princess
Keredwen. No one had heard nor seen him pass through the palace.

He tapped softly on the door.

“Who is it?” demanded the harsh voice of the maidservant. “I have taken an oath to King Bertele not to let any suitors in this room.”

“The King, Bertele, calls me
keniterv
,” replied Koadalan firmly.

“It is my cousin!” cried a sweet voice. “The Prince of Domnonée. Let him in.”

The door was open and Koadalan was admitted to the princess’s apartment.

Koadalan and Keredwen found that they had so much in common and, as Berc’hed had said, she was truly beautiful. Before they knew it, dawn had come, and Koadalan returned to his room by the
same magic means.

Each day for a week, Koadalan visited the Princess Keredwen and stayed with her until daybreak.

The day came, therefore, when Princess Keredwen began to manifest signs of eccentric behaviour and the maidservant summoned King Bertele and told him that, without any doubt, the princess was
pregnant.

King Bertele fell in a rage and demanded to know who the father was.

The maidservant felt she had said enough and pretended that she did not know.

King Bertele demanded to know from his daughter but she refused to tell him.