Cai glowered at Culhwch. “It is wrong that you call my lord’s honour into question. He has done all he can to seek word of Olwen. Now I suggest that we go forth ourselves to seek her. I will accompany you, on Arthur’s behalf. We shall find this girl, if she exists. My oath on it.”
Then Bedwyr of the One Hand, son of Pedrawg, volunteered to accompany them. He was a handsome man and, with his one hand, he could kill more warriors in battle than any three. When he thrust his spear at the enemy, it made nine more thrusts of its own.
Then came Cynddelig, the greatest guide and tracker in all the kingdoms of the Cymru. He also volunteered to help.
Then came Gwrhyr Gwalstawd Ieithoedd who, as his name stated, knew all the languages of men as well as those of the birds, beasts and fishes. He also volunteered to accompany Cai and the others.
Then came Gwalchmai fab Gwyar, whom the Saxons called Gawain and he was Arthur’s nephew, who never returned without that which he had set forth to find. He, too, said he would accompany Culhwch.
Lastly, there came Menw son of Teirgwaedd, who was a Druid and a magus, who could even cast a spell that made men invisible.
So Culhwch was much impressed by these six able warriors and agreed that they should go with him in his quest. The seven of them set out from Arthur’s palace at dawn the next day.
The journey was long and arduous and, initially, without any reward. No one had heard of Olwen nor of her formidable father, the Chief of Giants.
One day, however, the warriors came to a broad plain and from it there arose a large castle. They set out towards it but, after several days riding, it seemed as far away from them as it had been when they started. They were passing by a hill when they spied a shepherd on it and with the shepherd was a great hound, as big as a full-grown stallion. His breath scorched the very grass and trees before him and yet he was able to keep the flock in order. He was a fierce beast.
“Gwrhyr,” said Culhwch. “As you are our interpreter, go and ask that shepherd if he has heard about Yspaddadan Pencawr?”
Gwrhyr hesitated, one cautious eye on the fierce hound. “I only volunteered to accompany Cai and the others,” he muttered. “Not to put myself forward alone into danger.”
Cai grinned. “Then I will come with you, in case the hound prove too fierce for you.”
Menw took a step forward. “If you are worried about that hound, I will cast a spell so that it will neither see nor scent us.”
So it was that they all went forward under Menw’s spell and came to the shepherd without his hound scenting them or raising a cry.
“Greetings, bugail,” Cai said respectfully. “By the size of your flock, all goes well with you.”
The shepherd snorted indignantly. “May they never be better with you than with me,” he replied. The words made little sense to them and they pondered on his reply.
“Are these flocks not your own, bugail?” Gwalchmai asked, realizing that the shepherd might be tending them for some great lord.
“Ignorant men!” snapped the shepherd. “Do you not know in whose domains you are? These are the lands and flocks of Ysbaddadan Pencawr, whose castle lies yonder.”
“Ah, of course,” agreed Cai quickly. “And who are you, then?”
“I am Custennin Heusor yr Bugail, who was once a mighty warrior but am now ruled by my lord and doomed to be his shepherd.” The shepherd suddenly realized that his dog had ignored the seven warriors and not attacked them. “What men are you, that my hound has not harmed you?”
Cai glanced at Culhwch and received a brief nod to indicate that he should hold no truth from the man.
“We are warriors of Arthur and we are in search of Olwen, Ysbaddadan’s daughter.”
Custennin looked grim. “If you wish to throw your lives away, then I shall not stop you. But better you quest for anything other than the daughter of Ysbaddadan Pencawr.”
Then Culhwch spoke for the first time. “Custennin, I am Culhwch son of Cilydd, and my destiny is to marry Olwen or no woman in this world.”
The shepherd started at the mention of his name. He came forward and peered carefully at him. “You are Culhwch son of Cilydd and Goleuddydd?”
“I am.”
Then the shepherd threw his arms around the surprised Culhwch. “Then you are my nephew, for my wife was sister to Goleuddydd.”
So Culhwch and Custennin embraced with joy.
“Where is your wife, that I might greet my aunt?” cried Culhwch.
“I will bring you to her directly, but I must warn you, my wife is the strongest woman in the world and does not know her own strength. So avoid being hugged by her until she has calmed her joy.”
With that warning, Custennin ordered his hound to stay on guard over his flock and then led them to his house.
“Woman, it is your nephew Culhwch who is come to see us,” cried the shepherd.
A great muscular woman came bounding out of the house. “Tender is the heart in me, for he is my sister’s own flesh and blood,” she thundered. Then she looked at the seven warriors who had dismounted before the house. “But which one is Culhwch?”
Her husband, realising her grasp might hurt Culhwch, pointed to Cai, who seemed the strongest. The woman rushed on him with arms outstretched. Cai, however, seized a great log and threw it at her. A second later it lay splintered where she had caught it.
Cai shook his head wryly. “Woman, had I been squeezed like that log, there would have been no further need for you to express your love for Culhwch.”
The woman, realising she had misjudged her strength, looked at the splinters in dismay. “There is a lesson in this,” she agreed.
Then Culhwch identified himself and all were introduced to the woman.
They went into the house and sat down to a feast. Culhwch told her why they had come and his aunt shook her great head.
“Better you find some other quest to go on, or else all your lives will be forfeit.”
“I will not go unless I find Olwen,” replied Culhwch firmly.
The woman’s face was sad. She went to a cupboard and opened it and out stepped a handsome youth, with golden hair.
“This is Gorau, my best and only son. Once I had twenty-three fine strapping young boys. Ysbaddadan Pencawr slew them and if he finds this lad he will also slay him.”
“Then I offer Gorau my protection. Let him join me and my companions and, if he should be slain, it will be because I and these six brave warriors are already dead.”
Cai and the others shouted their approval and young Gorau, whose name did actually mean “best”, joined their band.
“Now to our task,” cried Culhwch, who was enthusiastic that his quest seemed so near an end.
“I can tell you how you may see Olwen,” said the burly aunt of Culhwch.
“How?”
“See the pool and waterfall just beyond this house? It is there that Olwen comes alone, without attendants, to bathe every morning.”
“Will she come tomorrow morning?”
“She will, indeed.”
“Then I will wait by the pool.”
So it happened that Culhwch hid himself beside the pool and, the next morning, there came to the pool a young girl. She had hair the colour of burnished gold, her flesh was whiter than the foam on the waves, foxglove-red tinged her cheeks and the juice of berries stained her lips with crimson. She wore a necklace of coral and bracelets of red gold and, wherever she walked, white trefoils grew behind her, marking her path. It was for this reason she was called Olwen, meaning “of the white track”.
Culhwch lost his power of speech as he watched the girl come to the bank of the pool and, dropping her red silk dress from her, stepped into the waters, white as the snowy breast of a swan.
The young man rose and came to the bank. “Ah, maiden, it is you that I have loved all my life, although I have not seen you, not until this moment.”
Olwen started in surprise but she did not cry out. She regarded him carefully as she trod wat
er. “You have advantage of me, fair sir,” she replied, for Culhwch was, as we have said, a handsome young man and she was not displeased at his greeting.
“I am Culhwch, son of King Cilydd. You are my fate. The pulse of my heart. You are my destiny, to return to my land and marry me.”
“Alas, young prince, I am under a prohibition. I can never leave my father’s house without his consent, for he was told that he would only live until I take a husband. Thus have the Druids foretold that when I wed, he shall die. So no man can wed me.”
“Then I shall challenge him.”
The girl shook her head seriously. “No; what you must do is this. Go and ask my father for my hand in marriage. He will give you several tasks to perform to prove your worthiness. If you perform them, then you will win my heart. If you do not, then I cannot go with you and you will surely die.”
So Culhwch left her to her bathing and returned to tell his companions what he must do.
“You shall not go forth alone,” cried Cai.
“Indeed,” Bedwyr said. “We have come thus far and so we shall all go to see this Ysbaddadan Pencawr.”
So, at midday, they went to the great castle. Cai and Bedwyr slew nine gatekeepers, without a man crying out, and nine great hounds, without one of them barking. And they went forward into the great hall where Ysbaddadan Pencawr, a fierce giant of a man with one great eye, reclined in slumber.
Culhwch marched forward and smote the giant on the leg with the flat of his sword to wake him.
“Who is it?” demanded Ysbaddadan, without opening his eyelid.
“I am Culhwch, son of Cilydd, and I have come to ask the hand of your daughter Olwen in marriage.”
Ysbaddadan roared with laughter, causing the entire room to shake as if an earthquake had hit it.
“Where are my servants? For I would see you, you presumptuous little man.”
The servants came running into the hall in answer to the giant’s bellows and they had two great poles with which they raised the giant’s eyelid. The one great eye glared down, red and baleful.
“So you are Culhwch?” he demanded in a roaring tone.
The young prince acknowledged his name.
“Then depart and return tomorrow at this hour. I will answer you then.”
Could it be that simple? What of the tasks? Still, Culhwch turned and with his companions began to leave the hall. At this point Ysbaddadan seized a great spear next to his chair. It was tinged with poison. He cast it straight at Culhwch. But Bedwyr seized it in mid-flight and hurled it back towards the giant. It hit Ysbaddadan in the knee-cap.
The giant screamed in agony. “I shall never be able to walk again. Cursed be the smith who forged this iron and the anvil on which it was wrought!”
Culhwch controlled his anger at the sly attack. “We shall return for your answer tomorrow,” he said firmly. “Let no more tricks be played on us.”
They spent that night with Custennin and his wife and the next morning they went back to the giant’s hall.
“I have come for your answer, Ysbaddadan,” announced Culhwch.
“I cannot give it,” replied the giant. “I can give no permission over the marriage of Olwen until I have consulted with her four great-grandfathers and four great-grandmothers. Come back tomorrow; I will give you an answer then.”
So Culhwch and his companions turned to leave the hall.
Then Ysbaddadan seized another poisoned spear and hurled it at Culhwch. This time it was Menw who caught it in mid flight and hurled it back at the giant. It pierced his breast, coming out in the small of his back.
Ysbaddadan screamed. “I will be in pain in my chest and my back from this cast. Cursed be the smith who forged the steel and the anvil on which it was wrought!”
Then Culhwch turned in anger at the giant’s duplicity. “We will return on the morrow to hear your answer. Yet I warn you again, do not vex us further.”
They stayed again with Custennin and his wife and the next morning went back to Ysbaddadan’s hall.
The giant’s eye was closed.
“I cannot look upon you and so cannot give you my answer. Come back tomorrow and I shall do so then.”
As Culhwch and his companions turned to go, the giant took up a third spear and hurled it at Culhwch, in spite of his claim not to be able to see him. This time it was Culhwch who, hearing the noise of the metal in the air, turned, caught the spear and hurled it back with such force that it pierced Ysbaddadan’s eyelid and the ball of his eye.
Ysbaddadan screamed. “Oh, I shall be blinded forever. Cursed be the smith who forged the metal and the anvil which wrought it!”
“We will return tomorrow for your answer,” Culhwch said angrily, “but if we do not receive it, you or we shall be dead thereafter.”
So they stayed again with Custennin and his wife and the next morning went to the giant’s hall.
“Cast no more spears at me, Ysbaddadan,” warned Culhwch at once, “for the next time, you shall surely be slain.”
Ysbaddadan called for his servants to prop up his eyelid and his one baleful eye stared angrily at Culhwch.
“You must prove to me that you are worthy of my daughter, Olwen,” he thundered.
“I am willing to do so.”
“Then you must promise to fulfil whatever task I set you.”
“Easy to promise. Tell me what you require that I should do.”
The giant smiled grimly. “The first task is to go to the great forest that lies to the east. Cut down the trees, plough the land and sow it with wheat and, out of the wheat, bake bread for the wedding guests. That task must be done in a single day.”
Culhwch bowed his head. “It shall be done.”
“The second task is that you find two vessels to be used at the wedding feast.”
“Easy enough.”
Ysbaddadan chuckled harshly. “The first vessel is the horn of Gawlgawd and the second is the cup of Llwyr son of Llwyrion.”
Culhwch bowed his head. “It shall be done.”
“The third task is that you obtain a hamper for me to eat from on the wedding day.”
“Easy enough.”
Ysbaddadan smiled cruelly. “It is the hamper of Gwyddno Long-Shank, who ruled the Drowned Kingdom. If thrice times nine men sit around it they would not go away hungry.”
Culhwch bowed his head. “It shall be done.”
“The fourth task is that you get a veil for Olwen on her wedding day.”
“Easy enough.”
Ysbaddadan smiled thinly. “When I first met with Olwen’s mother, I sowed nine hectares of flax seed in an overgrown plot. But it has vanished. The seed must be resown, grown, gathered and spun and made into Olwen’s veil.”
Culhwch bowed his head. “It shall be done.”
“The fifth task is to bring me a razor to shave on the morning of the wedding.”
“Easy enough.”
“Ah,” Ysbaddadan was grinding his teeth, for no task seemed to make an impression on Culhwch or cause him to be fearful or refuse it, “the razor must be the tusk of Ysgithyrwyn, the chief of boars, and the man who must shave me is Cadw of the land of the Pictii, who refuses ever to leave his kingdom. And I can only dress my beard from the blood of the Black Witch who dwells in the Valley of Grief in the uplands of Hell.”
“It shall be done,” agreed Culhwch.
Ysbaddadan now began to grow angry. He enumerated no less than thirteen difficult tasks, together with no less than twenty-six less difficult tasks, all to be accomplished. To each and every one of them, Culhwch agreed to perform the deed.
Ysbaddadan wanted the comb and shears that lay between the two ears of Twrch Trwyth, the king of Otherworld boars, who could not be hunted until the hound Drudwyn was obtained, and the hound could not be held until a leash owned by Cors Hundred Claws was taken. No collar would hold the leash, save that of Camhastyr Hundred Hands and only the chain of Cilydd Hundred Holds could hold both collar and leash.
No one could a
ct as hound-keeper to Drudwyn except Mabon ap Modron, who had been stolen from his home when he was three nights old, and his whereabouts not known. Only Eidoel, his kinsman, had known where he was but Eidoel was in the secret prison of Glini, and no one in the world knew where that was. And even Mabon could not hunt Twrch Trwyth, save on Gwyn Dunmane, the steed of Gweddw, who would have to be fought for him.
Twrch Trwyth could further not be hunted until the dogs of Aned and Aethlem were obtained, for they were never unleashed on a beast they did not kill. To use the hounds, only Cyledyr the Wild Son of Hetwyn the Leper could act as huntsman. Cyledyr was nine times wilder than the wildest beast in the world. Nor could Cyledyr be obtained without the agreement of Gwyn son of Nudd, whom the gods had made guardian of the demons of the Otherworld. He could not leave his charge, in case the world was destroyed by the demons.
Further, no leash in the world would hold Aned and Aethlem, the hunting dogs, unless it was made from the beard of Dissull son of Eurei, the bearded giant. Even that would be useless, unless it was plucked from his beard while he was still alive and then with wooden tweezers. He would certainly not allow anyone to do so unless he was dead.
Neither would Twrch Trwyth be hunted until the services of Bwlch, Cyfwlch and Syfwlch be obtained, together with their three shields, three spears, three swords and their three hunting-horns that sounded so dreadful a note that no one would care if the sky tumbled on them in order to stop the sound.
However, Twrch Trwyth could not finally be slain except by the sword of Wrnach Cawr, a mighty giant, and he would never part with it. Lastly, Twrch Trwyth could not be hunted without the full backing of Arthur and all his huntsmen.
Culhwch’s companions’ faces were growing longer and longer at the recital of Ysbaddadan.
However, Culhwch stood his ground, calmly nodding and agreeing to every condition.
“It shall be done,” he said simply.
Ysbaddadan cursed him, for he had now run out of difficult tasks.
The Mammoth Book of Celtic Myths and Legends Page 39
