Said Puil: “What rudeness and discourtesy have I shown, O Chieftain?” “Great rudeness and great discourtesy,” answered the stranger. “Greater rudeness and greater discourtesy I never saw than yours in driving away hounds that were killing a stag and then setting your own hounds upon it. That was indeed a great rudeness.” “A great rudeness indeed,” said Puil, acknowledging the wrong he had committed.
Then said Puil: “All that can be done I will do to redeem thy friendship, for I perceive that thou art of noble kind.” “A crowned King am I in the land that I come from,” said the stranger. “Lord,” said Puil, “show me how I may redeem thy friendship.”
Said the stranger: “I am Arawn, a King of Annuvin.1 Thou canst win my friendship by championing my cause. Know that Annuvin has another King, a King who makes war upon me. And if thou shouldst go into my realm and fight that King thou wouldst overthrow him, and the whole of the realm would be mine.” “Lord,” said Puil, “instruct me; tell me what thou wouldst have me do and I will do it to redeem thy friendship.”
The King of Annuvin then said to Puil: “I will put my own appearance upon thee and I will take thine appearance upon myself, for it is in my power to do these things. And in my semblance thou shalt go into my kingdom. There thou shalt stay for the space of a year from to-morrow, and thereafter we shall meet in this glade.” “Yes, Lord,” said Puil, “but how shall I discover him whom I am to do battle with?” “One year from this night,” said the King of Annuvin, “is the time fixed for combat between him and me. Be thou at the ford in my likeness. With one stroke that thou givest him he will lose life. And if he should ask thee to give another stroke, do not give it, no, not if he entreat thee even. If thou shouldst give another stroke he will be able to fight thee the next day as well as ever.” “If I go down to thy kingdom,” said Puil, “and stay there in thy semblance for a year and a day, what shall I do concerning my own dominions?” “As to that,” said the King of Annuvin, “I will cause, for I have such power, that no one in thy dominions, neither man nor woman, shall know but that I am thee. I will go there and rule in thy semblance and in thy stead.” “Then gladly,” said Puil, “will I go down into Annuvin, thy kingdom, and win thy friendship by doing what thou askest me to do.” “Clear shall be thy path, and nothing shall detain thee until thou comest into my kingdom, for I myself will be thy guide.” And saying this, the King of Annuvin, who had come into the wood with his hounds for no other purpose than to bring Puil into his realm on that day, conducted him into Annuvin.
And having brought him before the palace and the dwellings, he said: “Behold the court and the kingdom. All is in thy power from this day until a year from to-morrow. Enter the court; there is no one there who will not take thee for me. And when thou seest what is being done thou wilt know the customs of the place.” When he had said this the man who had been with Puil went from his sight.
Then Puil, Prince of Dyved, went into that strange court, and there he saw sleeping-rooms, and halls, and chambers, that were the most beautiful he had ever looked on. And there came pages to him who took off his hunting dress, and clothed him in a vesture of silk and gold. All who entered saluted him. Then they brought him into the feasting-hall, and he sat by the side of a lady who had on a yellow robe of shining satin, and who was the fairest woman that he had ever yet beheld. He spoke with her, and her speech was the wisest and the most cheerful that he had ever listened to. There were songs with the feasting. And of all the courts of Kings on the earth this court of Annuvin was, to the mind of Puil, the best supplied with food and drink, with vessels of gold and with royal jewels.
A year went by. Every day for Puil there was hunting and minstrelsy, there was feasting and discourse with wise and fair companions. And then there came the day on which the combat of the Kings was to take place, and even in the furthest parts of the realm the people were mindful of that day.
Puil went to the ford where the combat was to be, and the nobles of Arawn’s court went with him. And when they came to the ford they saw that Havgan, the King against whom the battle was to be, was coming from the other side. Then a knight arose and spake, saying: “Lords, this is a combat between two Kings, and between them only. Each claimeth of the other his land and territory. This combat will decide it. And do all of you stand aside and leave the fight to be between the Kings.”
Thereupon Puil in the semblance of Arawn approached Havgan. They were in the middle of the ford when they encountered. Puil struck Havgan on the centre of the boss of his shield, so that his shield was broken in two, and his armour was broken, and Havgan himself was flung on the ground over the crupper of his horse, and he received a deadly blow. “O Chieftain,” he cried, “what right didst thou have to cause my death? I was not injuring thee in any thing; I know not wherefore thou wouldst slay me. But since thou hast begun to slay me, complete thy work.” “Ah, Chieftain,” said Puil, “I may yet repent of what I have done to thee. But I will not strike thee another blow.” “My lords,” said Havgan then, “bear me hence, for my death has come, and I shall no more be able to uphold you.” “My nobles,” said Puil, speaking as Arawn, “take counsel, and let all who would be my subjects now come to my side. It is right that he who would come humbly should be received graciously, but he that doth not come with obedience shall be compelled by force of swords.” “Lord,” said the nobles, “there is no King over the whole of Annuvin but thee.” And thereupon they gave him homage. And Puil, in the likeness of Arawn, went through all the realm of Annuvin, and he received submission from those who had been Havgan’s subjects, so that the two halves of the kingdom were in his power.
Thereupon he went to keep his tryst with Arawn. When he came into the glade in the wood the King of Annuvin was there to meet him and each rejoiced to see the other. “Verily,” said Arawn, “may Heaven reward thee for what thou hast done for me. When thou comest thyself to thy own dominions,” said he, “thou wilt see what I have done for thee.”
“But since thou hast begun to slay me, complete thy work.”
Then Arawn, King of Annuvin, gave Puil back his own proper semblance, and he himself took on his own. Arawn went back to the realm of Annuvin, and Puil, Prince of Dyved, went back to his own country and his own dominions, and was lord once more of the seven Cantrevs of Dyved.
After he had been a while in his own country and dominions, Puil inquired of his nobles how his rule had been in the year that was past, compared with what it had been before. “Lord,” said his nobles all, “thy wisdom was never so great before, and thou wast never so kind or so free in bestowing gifts, and thy justice was never more worthily shown than in this year.” “By Heaven,” said Puil, “for all the good you have enjoyed, you should thank him who hath been with you, for this is the way matters have been.” And thereupon Puil related to his nobles all that had happened. “Verily, Lord,” said they, “render thanks unto Heaven that thou hast made so good a friendship.”
After that the friendship between Puil and Arawn was made even stronger. Each sent unto the other horses, and grey-hounds, and hawks, and all such jewels as they thought would be pleasing to each other. And by reason of his having dwelt a year in Annuvin he lost the name of Puil, Prince of Dyved, and he was called Puil, Chief of Annuvin, from that time forward.
Now when the story-teller had told of Puil’s life so far, Kai said, “By the hand of my friend, this hunting was a fair adventure for Puil.” Arthur had combed out Kilhuch’s hair with the golden comb, and now he took the scissors whereof the loops were of silver, and he began to cut the hair. Then the story-teller who was in the hall, told:
THE STORY OF PUIL, PRINCE OF DYVED
How Puil Won Rhiannon for His Wife, and How Rhiannon’s Babe Was Lost to Her
It is told of Puil that once, while a feast was being prepared for him in his chief palace, he arose and went to walk and came to a mound that was above the palace, and went to the top of it. “Lord,” said one of those who were with him, “it is peculiar to this mound tha
t whosoever sits upon it cannot go thence without receiving a blow or seeing a wonder.” “I fear not to receive a blow,” said Puil, “with so many valiant men around me, and as to a wonder, I should gladly see one. I will therefore go and sit upon the mound.”
And upon the mound he sat. And while he sat there he and those who were with him saw a lady on a horse of pure white, with a garment of shining gold upon her, coming along the highway; the horse seemed to move at a slow and an even pace, and to be coming towards the mound. “My men,” said Puil, “is there any amongst you who knows yonder lady?” “There is not, Lord,” said they. “Go, one of you, and meet her,” said Puil.
Then one of the men arose, and he came upon the road to meet her, and she passed by, and he followed as fast as a man on foot might follow. But the greater his speed, the further did the lady distance him. And when he saw that it profited him nothing to follow her, he returned to Puil, and he said to him, “Lord, it is idle for anyone in the world to follow her on foot.” “Then,” said Puil, “go to the palace and take the fleetest horse that thou seest, and go after her.”
The man went and took the horse and went forward on the highway. And he came to an open level plain, and he put spurs to his horse. But the more he urged his horse, the further was the lady from him. And yet she seemed to keep the same pace as before. Then his horse began to fail. The man returned to the place where Puil was, and he said: “Lord, it will avail nothing for anyone to follow yonder lady. I know of no horse in these realms swifter than this one, but all its swiftness did not help me to gain on her.” “Of a truth,” said Puil, “there must be some enchantment in this. Now let us go back to the palace.”
So they went back to the palace, and they partook of the feast that was prepared. The next day, after the first meal, they arose, and Puil said: “We will go as yesterday to the top of the mound. And do thou,” said he to one of his young men, “take the swiftest horse in the field and bring it along.” The young man did so, and they went towards the mound, taking the horse with them.
And no sooner had they sat down on the top of the mound than they saw the lady on the same horse, and in the same apparel, coming along the same road. “Behold,” said Puil, “the lady of yesterday. Make ready, youth, to learn who she is.” “My Lord,” said the youth, “that will I gladly do.”
The lady was opposite them then. The youth mounted his horse; and before he had settled himself in the saddle, she passed by, and there was a clear space between them. But her speed seemed no greater than it had been on the day before. Then the youth put his horse into an amble, thinking that for all the gentle pace that his horse went at, he should soon overtake her.
But soon he saw that this pace would not avail him, and so he gave his horse the reins. But still he came no nearer to her than when he went at a foot’s pace. The more he urged his horse the further the lady was from him, and yet she rode no faster than before.
When the youth saw that it availed him not to follow her, he returned to the place where Puil was. “Lord,” he said, “the horse can do no more than thou hast seen.” “I see indeed,” said Puil, “that it avails not that anyone should follow her. And by Heaven,” said he, “she must have an errand to someone, if her haste would allow her to declare it.”
They went back to the palace, and they spent the rest of the day in feasting. The next day, when it came towards evening, Puil said: “Let us go to the mound and sit there. And do thou,” said he to his page, “saddle my horse, and go with him to the road, and bring also my spurs with thee.” The youth did as he was bidden.
They went and they sat upon the mound, and ere they had been there but a short while, they beheld the lady coming by the same road, and in the same manner, and at the same pace. Then Puil said: “Bring me my horse.” And no sooner was he upon the horse than the lady passed him. He turned after her and followed her. His horse went bounding, and he thought that with the second step or the third he should come up with her. But he came no nearer to her than at first.
Then Puil urged the horse to his utmost speed, but that speed availed nothing; he could not come up with the lady. Then he cried out: “O maiden, for the sake of him whom thou best lovest, stay for me.” And when he said that, she turned around. “I will stay gladly,” she said, “and it were better for thy horse hadst thou asked me long since.”
She stopped, and she threw back that part of her headdress that covered her face. And she fixed her eyes upon him, and began to talk with him. “Lady,” he asked, “whence comest thou, and whereto dost thou journey?” “I journey on my own errand,” said she, “and right glad am I to see thee.” “My greetings unto thee,” said he. And saying that he looked on her, and he thought that all the beauty of all the maidens and ladies he had ever seen was as nothing compared to her beauty. “Lady,” said he, “wilt thou tell me aught concerning thy purpose?” “I will tell thee,” said she, “that my chief quest was to find thee.” “Behold,” said Puil, “this is to me the most pleasing quest on which thou couldst have come. And wilt thou tell me who thou art?” “I will tell thee, Lord,” said she. “I am Rhiannon, the daughter of Heveid.”
And then she said: “They sought to give me in marriage against my will, but no husband would I have, and that because of my love for thee, neither will I yet have one unless thou dost reject me. And hither have I come to hear thy answer.” “By Heaven,” said Puil, “this is my answer: If I might choose amongst all the ladies and damsels in the world, thee would I choose.” “Verily,” said she, “if thou art thus minded, make a pledge to meet me ere I am given to another.” “The sooner I may do so, the more pleasing will it be unto me,” said Puil. “I will have it that thou meet me this day twelvemonth at the palace of Heveid, my father,” said she, “and I will cause a feast to be prepared so that it will be ready against thy coming.” “Gladly,” said Puil, “will I keep this tryst.” “Lord,” said Rhiannon, “keep in health, and be mindful of thy promise; and now I will go hence.”
And so they parted. Puil went back to those who were in his palace. But whatever questions they asked him respecting the damsel, he always turned the discourse upon other matters. And so a year went by.
Then it came to the day that was a twelvemonth from the time that Rhiannon had spoken with him. Puil caused a hundred of his knights to equip themselves and go with him to the palace of Heveid. And when they came to that palace Puil was greeted with joy and gladness, and he saw that a feast had been made ready against his coming.
Heveid received Puil as the man to whom his daughter would be given as a bride. And when they went into the feast, Heveid sat on one side of Puil, and Rhiannon sat on the other side, and there were songs with the feasting, and Puil, talking with Rhiannon, found that she was as wise and mirthful as she was lovely.
Now when the feast was at its height, Puil saw a young man enter the feasting-hall; he was clothed in a garment of satin, and he had the bearing of one who had power and wealth. He came to where Puil sat with Rhiannon, and he gave salutation to Puil. “The greeting of Heaven be unto thee, my soul,” said Puil. “Come thou and sit down.” “Nay,” said the young man, “I have a boon to ask thee.” Then said Puil, without thinking because of the great joy that was around him, “Whatsoever boon thou mayest ask of me, as far as I am able, thou shalt have it of me.” “Alas,” said Rhiannon, “wherefore didst thou give that answer?”
But the young man said exultantly: “Has he not given me my answer in the presence of these nobles?” “My soul,” said Puil, disturbed now, “what is the boon thou askest?” “The lady whom best I love is to be thy bride this night; I come to ask her of thee—that is the boon I crave. And also I would have the feast and the banquet that is in this place.” Then Puil was silent because of the answer he had given. “Be silent now as long as thou wilt,” said Rhiannon, “for never did a man make worse use of his wits than thou hast done. This is the man to whom they would have given me in marriage against my will. Now thou hast given me to him. He is Gwaul, th
e son of Clud, a man of great power and wealth. And because of the word thou hast spoken, bestow me upon him, lest thou be shamed before these nobles for not keeping thy word.”
Then Puil was silent, not knowing what to say. “Lady,” said he, “never can I do as thou sayest.” Then said Rhiannon, speaking in a low voice, “Bestow me upon him, and I will cause that I shall never be his. Do this, I pray thee, and so keep thy word. But tell him that as for the feast and the banquet they cannot be given him, for they have already been bestowed. And I on my part will promise to become his bride this night twelvemonth.” “Lord,” said Gwaul, “it is meet that I have an answer to my request.” “As much of that thou hast asked me as in my power to give, thou shalt have,” said Puil. And then Rhiannon said, “As for the feast and the banquet that are here, I have bestowed them on the men of Dyved and the warriors that are with us. These I cannot suffer to be given to another person. But in a year from to-night a banquet shall be prepared for thee in this palace, that I may become thy bride.”
Gwaul was content with this. He went away. Then Rhiannon put into Puil’s hand a little bag. “See that thou keep it well,” she said. “And at the end of a year be thou here, and bring this bag with thee, and let thy hundred knights be in the orchard up yonder. And when he is in the midst of joy and feasting, come thou in by thyself, clad in ragged garments, and holding thy bag in thy hand. Go to him and ask of him for a boon your bagful of food. I will cause that if all the meat and liquor that are in these seven Cantrevs were put into it, it would be no fuller than before. And after a great deal has been put in, he will ask thee whether thy bag will ever be full. Say thou then that it never will, until a man of noble birth and of great wealth arise and press the food in the bag with both his feet, saying, ‘Enough has been put therein; and I will cause him to go and tread down the food in the bag, and when he does so, turn thou the bag, so that he shall be up over his head in it, and then slip a knot upon the thongs of the bag. Let there be also a bugle horn about thy neck, and as soon as thou hast bound him in the bag, wind thy horn, and let it be a signal between thee and thy knights in the orchard. And when they hear the sound of the horn, let them come down upon the palace.”
The Story of King Arthur and Other Celtic Heroes Page 3
