Arthur pc-3

by Stephen R. Lawhead

  King Sechlainn thanked Bran graciously and was so well pleased with his new treasure that he forgot the insult done him. The feast continued as many days as before, and an enjoyable feast it was. But the time came to take his leave, and the Irish king embraced the British king like a brother and said, 'Come you to my court when you will, lord, and I will return the favours you have accorded me tenfold. You may prove me in this, and I hope you do.'

  Then, after many heartfelt farewells, King Sechlainn and Bronwen set out. Thirteen graceful Irish ships sailed from Aber Menei and flew away over the sea to Ierne where they were greeted joyously by one and all.

  Soon it became voiced about all the kingdom that Sechlainn had taken a wife of rare and surpassing beauty. And everyone who came into his court from the first day received from Bronwen's hand a ring of gold, or a polished jewel, or a fine enamelled brooch, or some such treasured gift as would please them. Oh, and it was a marvellous sight to see these precious gifts being carried off!

  Bronwen's renown as a kind and generous queen grew in the land, and small wonder. King Sechlainn's realm flourished as never before with goodness and peace. Great the honour thereof! And this king liked and loved his lady well.

  In due time Bronwen's belly swelled with child which she bore most regally, and at the end gave birth to a son named Gwern. After the custom of those days, the boy was sent to the best house in all the realm to be reared as a nobleman ought.

  Bronwen's cousin, Evnissyen, wicked as the night is long, bethought himself how things had turned out, and how Bran had healed the split he had made. And he became jealous of Sechlainn's happiness and good fortune. 'Govannon smite me with his hammer if I do not settle this matter between us for once and all.' And taking a small coracle, he set out at once for Ierne.

  There are trouble makers in Ierne, just as everywhere else. And Evnissyen had no great difficulty finding them and stirring them up with hateful words and false promises.

  This was only too easily done, for because of Queen Bronwen's kindness and honour, and the heir she had given their king, these small-souled creatures were already halfway down the trail to jealousy by reason of Sechlainn's happiness. In less time than it takes to tell it, the grumblers, led on by smooth Evnissyen, fastened on the insult done their king while in Bran's court. The more they thought about it – and they thought about little else – the angrier they became.

  Did they keep their anger to themselves? No, they did not.

  Very soon they were flapping their tongues here and there all over the realm, and causing others to do the same. This poison spread as it will do, and in time reached Sechlainn's ears. He grew sad to hear it, and at first refused to take offence at this insult that had been so handsomely redressed by the gift of the enchanted cauldron.

  But the evil words did not cease. And as the waves pounding on the rock wear it down bit by bit to pebble size, so too after a time Sechlainn could no longer look at his beautiful queen without thinking of the wrong done him.

  But the makers of trouble did not let it rest there. They continually hounded the poor king to his misery by demanding that the disgrace to his kingdom be avenged so that his honour, and theirs, might be restored.

  In short, they raised such an uproar and ferment throughout Ierne that in the end unhappy Sechlainn yielded to them – more to earn a space of silence than anything else. And this is the revenge he took: Bronwen was struck once on the cheek and driven from his chamber. A queen no longer, she was given a place in the kitchen and made to cook for the court.

  For this reason, the blow Bronwen suffered was ever after known as one of the Three Unjust Slaps of Britain.

  But, as everyone knows, it could not stop there. 'Now lord,' said the malcontents, 'word of this must not reach Bran or he will surely come and make war on us to avenge his sister.'

  'What do you propose?' asked Sechlainn sadly. He no longer cared what happened to him or his kingdom. The light had been snuffed from his life.

  'You must forbid all ships from going to Ynys Prydein, and all ships coming from there must be seized, so that no one can take word to Bran. Do this and we will be happy at last.'

  'You may be happy, but I will not. While you are at it you might as well call me Mallolwch, Most Wretched, from now on, for I can no longer be Sechlainn and feel the way I do.'

  'That is your decision,' replied the evildoers. 'We certainly never wanted it this way.' But of course they did.

  Evnissyen, having sown his evil far and wide, departed at once and no one knew where he had gone. Poor Bronwen, bereft of friendship and forsaken in her own house, grew weary and sick at heart. 'Lieu knows I have done nothing to deserve this. My kindness has been repaid with loneliness, and my generosity with endless work. This will not do at all.'

  As it happened, Lieu, flying overhead in his accustomed form – that of a huge, black raven – heard Bronwen's lament. Well he remembered her former glory, and so swooped down to see if the affair might benefit from his intervention.

  Alighting on Bronwen's kneading-trough as she toiled at the bread, he watched her with a bright black gem of an eye. She saw the raven and offered it a scrap of meat, which it gulped down at once and croaked its gratitude. She poured out some milk and gave it to the raven to drink, which it did with all speed. 'At least, my labours are appreciated by someone," sighed Bronwen mournfully. 'I give you good day, friend raven.'

  Up spoke the raven. 'Daughter, who are you to toil without ceasing? Surely, you were born for better than this?'

  'I am Bronwen, daughter of Llyr, and Bran the Blessed is my brother. You have spoken the truth, though you may not know it. For I was once a queen in my own land, and a queen here as well – and highly respected, though I say it myself.'

  'What happened to bring you to this low estate?'

  'You are wrong if you think that I caused my own undoing. I tell you truly, I am not loved in this place. Once, but no longer – owing to the wicked men who slandered me most cruelly.' She looked at the raven suspiciously. 'Not that it is anything to you.'

  'Indeed, Sister, it is everything to me.'

  'Who are you, bird, to take an interest in my sad plight?'

  'Never mind about me. What are we to do about you?'

  'A most vexing question. In vain have I sought for an answer through many long days of contemplation. For not only am I a slave here, no one may pass across the sea. My kinsmen might as well live in the Otherworld for all I can reach them.'

  'Say no more,' croaked the raven. 'Ships may be prevented from sailing, but no one yet has discovered a way to hinder a bird from flying where it will.'

  'Will you take a message to my brother, then?'

  'Is that not what I am saying?'

  'Well, I hope you speak more plainly to him than you do to me,' she snapped.

  'Give me the message,' said Lieu in his raven's guise. 'Then stand you back and watch what will happen.'

  So Bronwen told the raven all about her plight, then described Bran and what kind of man he was and where to find him. Away winged the big black bird to that fairest land across the sea.

  The canny raven found Bran in his stronghold and spoke to him in private. Bran listened, becoming most distressed and outraged at his sister's disgrace. He thanked the raven and in the selfsame breath called for his advisers and counsellors and druids and any within the sound of his voice to assemble, whereupon he told them what had befallen Bronwen at Sechlainn's hands.

  'How this could have happened, I cannot understand. I had the highest respect for that Irish king, and now this. Well, there is no trusting those quarrelsome dogs. Speak, Wise Sages! What say you, Counsellors? Advise me, Advisers! What am I to do about this?'

  They all gazed in dismay at one another, then answered with a single voice. 'Your way is clear, lord and king. You must take your warband across the sea to save your sister and bring her back if you are to end this disgrace.'

  Bran agreed. He raised his warband – and a better warband has not be
en seen on the Island of the Mighty from that time to this – and they steered their ships from Aber Menei to Ierne; each man among them armed and helmed, and each a better warrior than the last.

  Now, Mallolwch's swineherds were down by the sea tending the pigs and they saw Bran's fleet coming. They threw down their staves and let the pigs scatter where they would, and ran to their lord who was holding court with his advisers.

  'Lugh be good to you,' the Irish king said in greeting. 'What news do you bring me?'

  'We have seen a wondrous sight, lord. And a more wondrous sight would be difficult to imagine,' the swineherds said.

  Tell me then, for I would hear of it.'

  They answered straightway, saying, 'Do not think us drunk, lord, but we have seen a forest arising on the sea where never was seen so much as a single tree. What is more, the forest is hastening this way. Think of that!'

  'A strange sight, indeed,' replied Mallolwch. 'Did you see anything else?'

  'In the centre of this forest, surrounded by it, we saw a mountain. Lightning broke from its brow and its crags were filled with roaring thunder.'

  'A storming mountain surrounded by a forest,' mused Mallolwch. 'Coming this way, you say?'

  'We do say it. What do you think it means?'

  'On my life, I cannot think what it means. But the woman who was my wife is an intelligent being. Let us ask her.'

  So the king and his advisers besought her, saying, 'Lady, tell us the meaning of this wonder we have seen.'

  Though I am no longer a lady,' she replied, 'I know well enough what it is. Lieu knows it is a sight that has not been known in this worlds-realm for all these many years.'

  'Will you tell us yet?'

  'I will. It is nothing more nor less than the gathered warband of the Island of the Mighty, sailing to battle. I believe my brother Bran the Blessed has heard of my sore plight and is coming for me.'

  'What is this forest we have seen?'

  That is the masts and oars and spears of the ships and the warriors on them.'

  'What is this mountain?'

  That is none other than Bran himself in his towering rage.'

  The Irish men heard this and were afraid. 'Lord, you cannot allow them to make war on us. They will slaughter us most frightfully.'

  Mallolwch answered them bitterly. 'Lugh knows it is no more than you deserve for the trouble you have caused.'

  'Fret us not with that,' the evildoers answered. 'Rather do your duty and protect us.'

  'Because of you, that will not be easy to do. By Toutatis, you are a vile lot! I wish I had never known you. Nevertheless, I will do what seems best to me, and it is this: I will offer my kingship to my son, Gwern, Bran's own kin. He will not make war on his sister's son.' With this Mallolwch charged his messengers to bear these words to Bran when he came ashore.

  The messengers obeyed and greeted Bran kindly as he waded ashore, his sword naked in his hand. 'What answer shall we take to our lord?' they asked when they had delivered their message.

  'Tell your lord he shall have no answer from me until he brings me a better offer than I have heard just now.'

  Back went the Irish men to their lord with the sound of ringing steel in their ears. 'Lord and protector,' they said, 'Bran says he will not give you an answer until he hears a better offer than the one you gave just now. Our advice is for you to prepare a better proposal, for we are not lying when we say that he will have none of the one you sent.'

  Mallolwch nodded sadly. 'Then tell my brother Bran that I will build him the greatest stronghold this world has ever seen – with a hall big enough to hold all his people in one half, and all of mine in the other. Thus, he shall rule over leme and the Island of the Mighty, with me as his steward.'

  The advisers came before Bran with this proposal, which pleased him when he heard it. The result was that he accepted it at once. In this way, peace was made and work begun on the stronghold and its enormous hall.

  The men of Ierne toiled away to raise the timber, and they fell to discussing things, as workmen will do. Evnissyen, disguised as a workman, began complaining of the unfairness of Bran, and the harshness of his rule. Inspired by Evnissyen, they were soon saying things like: 'It is not fitting that our lord and king be made a steward in his own realm. This is a great dishonour for him, and for us as well, come to that.'

  So the workmen set a trap. On every peg of every timber of the hall they fixed a large leather bag; inside every bag they put one of their most ferocious warriors.

  When the hall was finished, Mallolwch sent word to Bran to come and take up residence. Evnissyen heard the summons and made certain to enter the hall before all the others. He scowled at the magnificent hall as if it were the most contemptible shepherd's bothy. And turning his cunning eyes on the leather bag nearest him, he said, 'What is that?'

  'Barley,' replied one of the workmen.

  On the pretence of examining the grain, Evnissyen reached into the bag, found the warrior's head and squeezed hard until he perceived his fingers crushing bone and sinking into brain.

  As he did to that first bag, he did also to each bag in turn, until every one of two hundred warriors were killed and none were left in the land of the living. 'Now,' he smirked to himself, 'let the Irish men find this and they will howl with rage to think what Bran has done to their kinsmen.'

  By this time the host had arrived. The men of the Island of the Mighty sat on one side of the great hearth, and the men of Ierne sat on the other. Peace was made and the Irish King removed his tore and held it out to Bran.

  When Bran saw this he relented and said, 'I have a tore, lord, and lands and people enough. Only let my sister be reinstated in her proper place and I will be content.'

  Mallolwch heard this and wept for joy. 'Truly, you are a blessed man,' he cried. 'You treat me better than I deserve.'

  'How should I treat my own kin badly?' answered Bran.

  'In token of your honour to me,' said the Irish king, 'let my son, your nephew, be brought forth. He will be crowned in my place, and I will serve him as I would serve you.'

  Little Gwern was brought forward, and Mallolwch placed the tore upon his son's neck instead. Everyone who saw the boy loved him, for a more fair and honest boy there never was.

  Up spoke Evnissyen, whose spirit writhed within him to behold the amity between the two peoples. 'Why does not my young kinsman come to me for a blessing?' he called, and the boy, fearing no harm, went to him gladly.

  Ha! said the evil trickster to himself – be assured there was not the smallest grain of goodness in him – not even Lieu himself could foresee the outrage I will perform next. So saying, he seized the boy and threw him head first into the enormous fire, before anyone could lay a hand on him to stop him.

  Bronwen saw the flames close about her dear little son and she cried out in horror and leapt towards him, as if to throw herself into the fire to save him. But there was nothing to be done. The flames were kindled hot and swiftly reduced the child to ashes.

  Up jumped the men of Ynys Prydein with a shout. And this shout was echoed by the Irish men who, with Evnissyen's help, had discovered their murdered sword brothers. And never was there a greater commotion in all this worlds-realm than the one that followed, as each man reached for his weapons.

  The fight, the battle, the slaughter that was made that night was worse – oh, far, far worse than any since the world began. The din sounded like thunder, the clash like a tempest. Blood rose to the thighs of the warriors and still they slew one another cruelly.

  Meanwhile, Evnissyen was not idle. For when the battle raged white-hot, he crept into the shadows, striking here and there, stealing a life with every blow of his poisoned dagger. He saw Bran protecting his sister Bronwen between his shoulder and his shield, and he struck them both from behind, laughing as they fell from his blade.

  More good men went to their deaths, and more good women were made widows than heaven has stars. When the men fell, their women took up arms, so that man
, woman, and child fought to their deaths.

  Bitter was the battle, and bitter the tears that followed. And long, long the mourning.

  The sun shone raw and red and the sunrise like a wound in the east when the last foe laid down his arms for ever. Seven men only remained, staring at one another with blood in their eyes and on their hands.

  Then the Bent One saw the survivors place the Cauldron of Rebirth upon the hearth, and they began putting the dead into it. Fearing that all his toil would be for nothing, Evnissyen crept in among the bare-bottomed corpses, lay down, and was tumbled into the cauldron with the rest.

  Once inside, Evnissyen stretched out full length, pressing hands and feet against the sides of the cauldron. He pushed with all his might until the marvellous cauldron burst into four pieces and was ruined. As it happened, the wicked man's heart burst also and he died ignobly.

  The survivors, all British men, came upon Bran who lay dying beside fair Bronwen. They fell on their knees and wept over him. 'Lord and king,' they wailed, 'the cauldron has burst and now we cannot save you.'

  'Listen to me, my brothers,' Bran said, 'and do what I tell you. When I am dead, cut off my head and take it back with you to Ynys Prydein. There let you bury it on the White Hill overlooking Mor Hafren, where it will guard that sea gate from any intruder.

  'I tell you the truth, for so long as you do not dig up the head no enemy will ever harm you. You will feast in the land of your fathers, Rhiannon's birds will sing to you, and eighty years will be as a single day. In this way, the head will be as good a companion to you as ever it was, for your joy and prosperity will be assured.

  'But let anyone uncover the head and plague and war will come once more to the Island of the Mighty. And, once uncovered, you must hasten to bury it again where no one will ever think to find it, lest worse befall you.

  'Now then, it is time for me to die. Do at once what I have commanded you.'