Seventh Child

by Peter R. Ellis

  “I know what you are thinking, young lady. I have seen a naked young woman before, many times, but my years of yearning are over.”

  She realised how silly it was to feel modest at this desperate time. She held her nose in her right hand, put a foot on the side of the boat and stepped into the lake. The water of the lake enveloped her. She kicked her feet, not touching the bottom, and then she was rising back to the surface. Her eyes opened; the hull of the boat was nearby. She broke the surface and shook her head to clear her ears and nose. The water was colder than the river had been but not uncomfortable. She looked around. Apart from the boat and Cynddylig sitting anxiously in the stern there was nothing else to see. There was no sign of Tudfwlch and certainly no sign of the stone and its silver chain.

  September had never been a strong swimmer and she had always hated being under water. She had floated easily enough; her fat acted as a buoyancy ring. Now she felt different, determined, unafraid of the depth of water beneath her. She took a deep breath and dived. The water was murky and visibility quickly dropped. She kicked her legs to push herself deeper but the pressure of the water pushed her back to the surface. She broke into air again and clung on to the side of the boat, breathing deeply.

  “I can’t reach the bottom.”

  “The lake’s a good ten arms’ reaches deep,” Cynddylig said stretching his arms wide to demonstrate. That’s about twenty metres or more, September calculated; I can’t dive that far.

  “What can I do? The stone must have sunk to the bottom.”

  “It will find you.”

  “Yes, but it can’t move on its own. I’ve got to get to it.” She hung onto the boat, “Help me get on board please, Cynddylig.”

  He got up from his seat and came to the side of the boat. He placed his hands under her armpits. She saw the muscles in his thin, leathery arms tighten and he hauled her up. She hooked a leg over the side and pushed herself upright. They stood in the boat with her dripping breasts rubbing against his tunic. He looked down at her.

  “What’s that you have around your neck?”

  She lifted her hand to feel and found the phial that Eluned had given her. It had been there alongside the Maengolauseren for over a fortnight and she’d barely thought about it.

  “Eluned gave it to me. It contains mercury.”

  “Arianbyw.”

  “She said that although I couldn’t change into another animal like she can, it would change me and any material in any way that I wished.”

  Cynddylig released her and September sat amongst the drying bags. The old boatman returned to his seat by the tiller.

  “Perhaps it could help you now.”

  “I don’t know. To reach the bottom of the lake I’ll need to be able to push myself down.”

  “You’ll have to hold your breath a long time.”

  “I need to be a mermaid, don’t I?”

  September had an image of her lower body turned into the silvery body of a fish. Anything you wish, Eluned had said. Well, it was worth a go. She stood up and searched for the metal cloak. She found it and wrapped it around her middle.

  “What are you doing?” Cynddylig asked.

  “Trying something.”

  The cloak hung like a long skirt from her waist and folds of the metal cloth covered her feet. She took the phial from around her neck and loosened the tiny cork. She held the small crystal bottle at her waist and carefully tipped it. A drop of silver liquid formed at the spout and fell onto the metal cloth. It broke into tiny spheres that ran over the metallic threads then disappeared. She closed her eyes and summoned up the image of herself as a mermaid. Cynddylig gasped and she felt the cloak tighten around her legs and hips. Her feet felt strange and she half fell, half sank onto the baggage.

  “I don’t know how it happened, but something has,” Cynddylig said. September opened her eyes and looked down at herself. The cloak had certainly changed. Now her lower half was encased in smooth silver which ended with a broad fin covering her feet. She put the stopper back into the phial and replaced it around her neck.

  “I’m not sure how long this will last or even whether it will work,” she said hauling herself to the side of the boat, “but I’ll give it a try.” She filled her lungs with air and slipped into the water.

  With a flick of her tail she dived, descending rapidly. There seemed to be no pain in her chest as she held her breath and she felt no panic. The water grew dark and cold but still she dived, her eyes open, searching for the bottom. She started to circle as she descended, extending her search.

  The light appeared before she saw the dark, muddy bottom of the lake. It was a tiny pinprick of blue, deeper still and some distance to her right. Without hesitation she swam towards it. The light grew in intensity illuminating the surrounding silt. There were creatures down here, a starfish, a crab, a few small fish, curious about the strange glowing object. Now she was full of joy. She reached for it and picked up the silver locket and chain and its glowing stone. With the pendant held firmly in her hand she waved her tail and turned upwards. She rose like a bubble in a bottle of lemonade, faster and faster until she broke the surface. The boat was a few metres away. Cynddylig was sitting in the stern, his arm around the tiller and staring intently into the water.

  “I have it,” she cried joyfully, waving her arms. She swam smoothly to the boat. As Cynddylig leant down to grab her, a shiver passed down her spine and she felt different. She had feet again and her silver skin had become the metal cloak which dragged in the water. Cynddylig hauled her on to the boat and hugged her.

  “You were gone so long, I was worried,”

  “So long? It hardly seemed a minute. I had no difficulty holding my breath.”

  “You were gone for many, many heartbeats. I do not know how you didn’t drown. Eluned’s powers are evidently strong.”

  “Yes, Eluned has saved me again. Look, I have the stone. You were right; it was signalling to me.” She opened her hand. The stone no longer glowed and was hidden inside its casing. “But the chain is broken.”

  “Let me see. I have some tools for looking after our engine, which may be of use.”

  They sat together in the middle of the boat, the locket firmly in September’s hand while Cynddylig used a small pair of pliers taken from a leather wallet to mend the broken links of the chain. In moments he had it fixed and September gratefully hung it round her neck.

  “Now my girl, we must move. We don’t want to spend two nights on the lake.” Cynddylig moved to the stern and took hold of the tiller. Silently the boat slipped through the water with the Sun now overhead in a cloudless sky. September dressed herself in her clothes which had dried and wrapped the cloak around herself. Then she sat in her usual seat. Her discarded knife lay in the hull. She picked it up and looked at it then she looked ahead. The bow was empty. The memory of what had happened returned and she put her head on her knees and cried.

  “What’s the matter?” Cynddylig asked.

  “I killed Tudfwlch,” she cried, turning her tear stained face to the stern, and waving the knife at Cynddylig, “He was my friend and I killed him.”

  “It wasn’t your friend. It wasn’t the Tudfwlch you knew,” Cynddylig said sternly, “I should have recognised the signs, the change of personality, the misery, the defeatism, the unwillingness to help. He had become a servant of the Adwyth.”

  “But did I have to kill him?”

  “Yes. It was lucky you had a blade of Haearn to hand. If you hadn’t killed him he would have done for you and me.”

  “But how did it happen? How could he become evil? He wanted to help me so much.”

  “He did and that’s the Tudfwlch we must recall. It must have been the cut on his hand. We thought the arian had healed it but the evil must have got inside. He wasn’t the same after Glanyrafon was he?”

  “No, you’re right. First he was sick, then he seemed, well, different.”

  “The power of the Malevolence was growing inside him, like a magg
ot in an apple, destroying him and taking over his body.”

  “Couldn’t we have done something?”

  “Well, I’ve seen enough evil in my time and after what happened to the people of Glanyrafon I should have recognised the changes that were taking place in him; but, no, there was nothing we could do. We would have had to confront him sooner or later.”

  September grasped the Maengolauseren in her hand and thrust it out from its hiding place beneath the folds of the cloak. She cried out.

  “What about this? Couldn’t this magic stone have got rid of the evil in him?”

  “I don’t know lass. I don’t know of any way of drawing evil out of a person once it’s inside them but I don’t know what powers that stone has.”

  September sank back into the boat, still shaking.

  “Just remember, Cludydd, that despite what happened, Tudfwlch himself would rather have died than let you come to harm or allow the Maengolauseren to fall within the powers of the Adwyth. If anything you put what was left of him out of his misery.”

  September returned the knife to its scabbard on the belt at her waist. She realised the irritation in her side had stopped. The boat powered onwards, cutting through the calm waters smoothly and swiftly. The Sun, past its zenith, now pointed the way ahead, but still there was no sign of their destination. The waters of the lake surrounded them with no hint of land in any direction nor were there any other vessels in sight.

  “Is the lake always this deserted?” September asked.

  “Now, yes, but in the past no. When I was making frequent trips, Llyn Pysgod was a busy place. Many boats made the journey across it and there were boats moving from one community to another on its banks and the fishermen would cast their nets all across it. Now the people keep to the edges and the trading boats are few in number.”

  “All because of the Malevolence?”

  “Yes. As we’ve seen already, the evil troubles everyone even if they have not been attacked by manifestations. The breakdown of trust sets each community apart.”

  “Do you think this evil can be beaten?”

  “I don’t know lass. The Malevolence has grown so strong and will become more powerful yet. I do not know if the people have the strength to withstand it.”

  “And what about me? When we set off you said you didn’t know whether I would be of any help.”

  “I still don’t know, girl,” Cynddylig said gruffly, “I’m sorry, I wish I did. I have never been taught all the tales as Tudfwlch was and I’ve never been convinced that the goodness of the people was a strong enough defence against the evil. Not even the Cemegwr, if they exist, have opposed the evil. While the seasons went round, year after year, I couldn’t accept that the growing power of the Malevolence could be defeated as it has been before by the appearance of the Cludydd o Maengolauseren,” his voice softened, “but over the last couple of weeks I have learned that you do have power, that the stone can defeat the servants of the Adwyth. Whether it will be enough to drive the evil off the Earth and back above the sphere of stars, I don’t know. But lass, you have brought hope and that is important in itself.”

  September had listened to this speech feeling wretched and disconsolate, but his final words cheered her somewhat.

  “Thank you, Cynddylig. I hope that when we are with the Mordeyrn again, he will be able to show me what I have to do.”

  “Let us hope so, Cludydd.”

  They sailed on, as far as September could tell, in a straight line. The Sun sank below the horizon ahead of them and the sky quickly turned from blue, to violet then black. She lay back in the boat and looked up. Soon her eyes grew accustomed to the dark and she marvelled at what she could see. Camping each night beneath the trees had given little opportunity to look up at the night sky, but out here on the centre of the lake there was nothing between her and the universe. She felt that she was surrounded by a great dome of stars. She had never seen so many, had never been anywhere at night so free of light pollution. Astronomy had not interested her so she had never learnt the constellations, but she did recognise the Plough, up there on her right in the northern sky.

  “It’s wonderful,” she sighed.

  “Aye, it is lass.”

  “You can keep us on course by following the stars?”

  “I hope so.”

  “You know the stars?”

  “Well some. You don’t need a guide to navigate the river, but from time to time I crossed Llyn Pysgod at night so I’ve learned how to maintain our direction. I keep the Seren Gogledd to our right.”

  “Seren Gogledd?”

  “The star in the north that does not move.”

  “Oh, I think that’s called the Pole Star.”

  Cynddylig pointed to it and explained how to find it using the pattern of stars that she knew as the Plough. September recalled something she heard at school.

  “It’s right over the North Pole so seems to keep still while the Earth turns.”

  “What do you mean the Earth turns?” Cynddylig said, “The Earth is motionless and the sphere of stars revolves around us.”

  September recalled something similar said by the Mordeyrn on her first visit.

  “Oh yes, you think the Sun, Moon, planets and all the stars orbit around the Earth and that’s all there is in the universe.”

  “Of course, how else can it be?”

  “And what is beyond the stars?”

  “The realm of the Malevolence, from which all evil comes.”

  “And where the unborn go, is that what someone told me?”

  “So they say, I don’t know.”

  September shook her head. The beliefs of the people in the Land were completely at odds with what her teachers had painstakingly drummed into her. It still confused her. At home the Earth was just an insignificant speck in a vast, unfeeling universe while here it was the centre of a small and threatened enclave of good. At home there were no monsters, nor magic stones and spells that could turn her into a mermaid when she needed it, but here there were. At home her twin sister had simply been stillborn; here she may still exist amongst the stars in some evil guise. A thought came into her head.

  “What about those that have lived. What happens when they die?”

  “Their goodness sinks into the Earth to be reborn in new life.”

  “And what about the evil things? What happens to them when they have been killed?”

  “They are of the Adwyth.”

  “So are they dead?” September felt a sudden shiver, “Is Tudfwlch really dead?”

  “Is evil ever truly destroyed? I don’t know. As for Tudfwlch... well the boy you knew has gone, and what was left did the Malevolence’s bidding; I don’t know much more than that. Your blow with the knife was enough to kill a man. He sank into the depths and neither of us saw him again. He should be gone.”

  September was not convinced by Cynddylig’s reasoning and neither, she thought, was Cynddylig himself. The air had grown cool now that night was upon them.

  “Come next to me,” Cynddylig called, “we can keep each other warm.” September crawled over the bag to sit next to the old man with the tiller between them. He placed his right arm around her shoulders pulling her against him while placing his left hand on the tiller.

  “Thank you, Cynddylig.”

  “What for lass?”

  “For looking after me.”

  “I should be thanking you. You’ve saved my life enough times in the last weeks.”

  Later, they shared some fruit and nuts and water from their barrel. September took the copper horn from her pouch and placed it to her ear. She blew into it softly and very quickly the Mordeyrn’s voice came to her. As she told him of Tudfwlch’s attack her eyes filled with tears and once again she felt remorse and loss. She sobbed through her account of driving her knife into him and his fall into the lake. Aurddolen was sympathetic.

  “I am sorry, Cludydd. My guidance has been wanting. I too should have recognised the signs in what you have told m
e about Tudfwlch’s manner but even I, who should know so much, have been surprised by the rise in power of the Malevolence. I did not think that someone with Tudfwlch’s training and desire could so quickly fall into evil. Now I wish I had waited in Amaethaderyn for your arrival so that we could journey together, but I am weakened and of course I did not know when you would reappear.”

  “I wish you were here too, but Cynddylig has supported me a lot.”

  “I thought he would prove to be a strong companion as well as an able guide, but tell me what happened after you fought off Tudfwlch’s attack.”

  September recounted the loss of the Maengolauseren and her successful search for it aided by Eluned’s mercury. The Mordeyrn was surprised and complimentary about September’s resourcefulness.

  “It was Eluned’s spell,” she said.

  “Nevertheless, you have shown remarkable prowess in making use of it,” he insisted. He wished her a quiet night on the calm waters of the lake and she put the horn away. She settled amongst the sacks with her warm sleeping bag draped loosely over her and the gentle rocking of the boat soon lulled her to sleep.

  She awoke to find it still dark, the stars still shining overhead. She looked towards the stern. Cynddylig sat at the tiller impassive. Beyond him, away in the east, just above the horizon hung a crescent moon. Cynddylig saw her gazing.

  “Ah, you are awake. Come and take the tiller, while I get some relief.” September crawled to the back of the boat while Cynddylig moved carefully to the side and knelt on the gunwale. “Thank you, September. It won’t be long before daylight now.”

  “Are we on course?”

  “I hope so.”

  “I don’t really know where we are going except we have to find the river on the other side of the lake.”

  “Ah, you will shortly see one of the wonders of Gwlad. The great wall of Clogwyn Llwyd Uchel”

  “A wall? Clog...what?”