‘These days my mother is considered a crone, I know,’ Creirwy sympathised. ‘History is a very ambiguous affair. But in this day and age that persona suits her better.’
‘Well then . . . that’s one curiosity crossed off my list.’ It was rather satisfying, even though he’d not discovered the information himself, and may never have, if Creirwy had not been kind enough to put him out of his misery.
Ten miles down the old Roman road, the sun was low in the sky and there was naught but trees, cows and birds to witness their passage.
‘Shall we take the shortcut home?’ Creirwy suggested.
‘I thought you’d never ask.’ He could think of only one thing better than avoiding a long ride home. ‘Yet . . . another camp-out alone with you would not be entirely undesirable.’
Creirwy delighted in the thought for a second, and then pulled a sad face. ‘Tempting . . . but home is less perilous.’
Gwion nodded, in complete sympathy with what his lady meant. It was quietly alarming that Creirwy considered getting close to him more dangerous than dealing with an infant with bloodlust. But he too desired to be beyond the Night Hunter’s sight, an advantage Creirwy would soon lose when she moved into a cottage beyond the island bridge. This was a sobering thought to muse as his lady sang forth her mist.
Yet, every move made in life had pros and cons and Gwion was happy to forgo their few moments of stolen romance beyond the Night Hunter’s sight if this new living situation would bring Creirwy some peace with her parenting struggle.
A billowing barrier gathered upon the road before them, forming a gateway of white, wispy splendour, beyond which they would find the outer bailey of Llyn Tegid.
Between shifts in the sanctum, Morvran had been working very hard with his father to finish his sister’s new dwelling. This opportunity to labour towards a common goal in the great outdoors had brought father and son closer together than they had been in some time. Tacitus – shrunk into a body that was half his normal size – took care of sourcing, shaping and placing materials. Morvran, who stood a head taller than the tallest of men, was still only half the size of his father at present, and so was taking care of all the fine work, interior finishing, sealing and painting. The structure itself had turned out rather larger than originally intended, but only because the greater scope made for more comfortable working conditions for them both – Creirwy would certainly have all the space she needed to raise her son.
‘We should go into business, Father.’ Morvran exited the fully constructed dwelling to address Tacitus, who was finishing hammering together the doors and shutters.
‘Aye,’ the giant grinned. ‘I’ve only to finish the boundary walls to protect the babe from wandering anywhere he ought not. That shall be done before day’s end.’
A shrill scream echoed around the valley, and both men froze to determine the direction from which it hailed.
‘Someone is in trouble. Go, lad,’ Tacitus urged.
‘My appearance may frighten them even more.’ Morvran hesitated.
‘Mine certainly will.’
His father had a point. Hence Morvran took off, following the cries for help to a steep ledge, in front of which a large, wild cat with a short tail and tufted ears was pacing, growling low and swiping.
In the local tongue these cats were called llewyn, meaning ‘white lion’, although their fur was more silvery in colour. His mother claimed this was another breed of big cat altogether, referred to in Latin as a Lynx. These cats were normally fairly shy of humans who prized the fur of their silvery winter coats. But winter was also breeding season, and this female had probably mated already and was hungry to feed the cubs growing inside her.
‘What have you found, friend?’ Morvran made himself known.
The cat turned to Morvran and gave a snarl of warning.
‘Help me!’ came the call from over the ledge.
The voice was female, and if she thought a cute, fluffy cat was terrifying, only the Goddess knew what she would make of him. ‘You don’t want to wrestle with me, sweetness. Go.’ He directed the cat back towards the wood. ‘Seek your supper elsewhere.’
The feline’s ears drew back and she made a growling sound deep in her throat, then swiped her front paws in his direction as she roared in warning.
‘You want to play tough, hey?’ Morvran called upon his insight of these creatures – he could assume the same form, but that might only encourage her to fight for her prey. Thus he only employed the larynx of her species to roar back at the smaller female at twice the volume.
Startled witless, she bolted for the wood. The llewyn were all front and would usually retreat under threat if that option was open to them.
That was the easy part done – the next stage of this rescue could prove more problematic.
‘The threat is gone,’ he advised. ‘It is safe to come up now.’
‘I cannot!’ she cried, sounding desperate. ‘Please! I can’t hold on much longer!’
‘I am afraid my appearance may frighten you,’ he advised as he neared to peer over at the woman in peril – she was hanging from a tree branch above the deep void of a rocky gorge.
‘Fear not. I see nothing.’ She looked up to him and he saw her eyes were white – like pearls. He gasped at how beautiful she was. ‘I am hideous—’ She quickly looked away. ‘Perhaps it is the will of the Goddess that I die.’ The branch began to crack under the strain of its load. ‘Ah!’
Morvran grabbed her wrist and lifted her into the safety of his huge form, then backed away from the edge and sat her down safely. ‘Your eyes are exquisite – like jewels of the sea. The Goddess would never wish such a treasure ill.’
His words made her gasp as if she would cry, but no tears were forthcoming. Her hair was a mass of unbound and unruly brown curls that were tinged red in the light. Her pale skin was reddened by the elements, the lips of her tiny but full heart-shaped mouth were cracked and dry from the weather, and still Morvran felt he’d never laid eyes upon a more comely being. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘No. Just rattled. I heard rocks crashing below where I hung, and they took a long time to hit the ground. I owe you my life.’
‘How do you come to be wandering Llyn Tegid alone and—’
‘Blind?’ she finished the sentence for him.
‘Unaccompanied,’ the young lord stated his intended meaning, gently.
‘I flee from all who would accompany me. I came to seek the Goddess, to implore her to give me the gift of sight.’ She began to whimper, in shock from her ordeal. ‘I trust fate will either lead me to the Great Mother, or to my death; either are better options than returning whence I came.’
‘But why should such a blessed vision wish to depart this wondrous existence?’
‘Wondrous?’ His view was clearly baffling to her. ‘Would you not rather die than be given to old men for pleasure?’
The query and the imagery it invoked in Morvran’s mind made his heart ache and his blood boil.
‘No suitor will tolerate my deformity for risk to their offspring—’ Her breath broke over her despair and made her wheeze.
‘Lady,’ his tone urged calm, for he could assist. ‘My name is Morvran.’
She gasped. ‘The—’
‘Monster son of Keridwen, yes,’ he finished her thought for her.
But she was not recoiling, she was elated. ‘When you said that your appearance might scare me . . .’ She reached out in search of him, so Morvran offered her his hands, huge in her tiny grasp. ‘I was quietly praying that the Goddess had sent her legendary son to my aid.’
Her words made Morvran smile. ‘You cannot see me. If you could, you might well have let go of that tree branch rather than make my acquaintance.’
‘I can hear your gravelly voice . . .’ She sounded charmed and intoxicated. ‘I feel sure it strikes fear into the hearts of mortal men.’ She smiled broadly at this notion. ‘Something I have desired to do many times.’
‘If you are in ne
ed of such service, Lady, I should happily oblige.’ The offer made her laugh with delight, but Morvran suspected she was a wee bit hysterical.
‘I am no lady.’ She referred to her shabby attire, which Morvran quite frankly hadn’t noticed. ‘My name is Morwyn.’
‘Mor’ could mean sea or so, ‘wyn’ – white, hence ‘sea white’, ‘so white’ – the name pertained to her eyes.
‘I never did care for it much, until I realised how well it resembles your name, Lord,’ she confessed with a shy smile.
‘That it does.’ He was having trouble wiping a smile off his face himself, although the parallel seemed just a little too coincidental; he suspected his mother was behind this seemingly ‘chance’ meeting. ‘And if you would rather meet with the Goddess than the Lord of Annwn this day, I shall be more than happy to escort you, Morwyn.’
Her face lit up like a radiant morning sky. ‘I would be eternally grateful for such an opportunity, Lord—’
‘Morvran, please,’ he insisted.
‘Morvran,’ she repeated the name as if it were a great wonder just to say it. ‘Do you think your great mother will see me?’
‘My dear mother sees all.’ He rose and aided Morwyn to her feet. ‘I expect she is expecting you.’ He kept hold of her left hand and locked his right arm about her waist – he had to crouch rather awkwardly to do this.
‘Does my lord think it might be easier if you just carried me?’
‘Thank you so much . . .’ Morvran promptly bundled her up in his arms. ‘Don’t mind if I do.’
Her squeals of delight were pure joy to his ears and heart; could he dare hope that Morwyn would be the woman who would break his accursed life of loneliness? To know what it was to truly love was the reason Morvran chose to dwell in the middle kingdoms, for no pure Fey could feel such emotion, let alone understand it. The potion they were brewing to enhance his knowledge and foresight was only to the end that humans might see Morvran’s worth and perhaps grow to value him as much in peacetime as they did in war. Morvran had never gone so far as to imagine a human woman could love him. If his mother granted Morwyn’s desire and restored her sight, it was highly likely she would run home and seek a young, handsome husband. But regardless of what happened when she saw the ugly truth, this beautiful being deserved a better life.
‘Mother!’ Morvran walked into the grand foyer with Morwyn still in his arms. ‘Look what I found.’ He set the lady down and the sound of the audience chamber unlocking and opening startled her. ‘Fear not . . .’ He took her hand. ‘That is the sound of the Goddess opening her doors for you.’
His words made her smile beam once again. She felt over her face, hair and clothes and lost some of her lustre. ‘I must look a fright.’
‘To the contrary . . . you are the most comely being ever to enter Castell Tegid.’
She shook her head, her eyes squinting as she suppressed a smile. ‘I hardly think so; they say your sister is the most beautiful woman alive.’
‘They have obviously never seen you.’ His argument made her giggle. ‘Shall we?’
With a deep breath, she nodded, and then hesitated. ‘Whatever happens, I am so grateful for this kindness; you are living proof that the Goddess is truly merciful, Morvran.’
Morvran never had a woman look at him the way Morwyn adoringly gazed up at him now; the trouble was she couldn’t see him. ‘As are you, Morwyn.’ He stole the opportunity to brush his fingers across her cheek. ‘Best not keep the Goddess waiting.’
‘This is really happening,’ she uttered as they moved off. ‘I am walking into my dream.’
As they proceeded inside the audience chamber, Castell Tegid’s grand Otherworldly facade assumed its dark age form, and his mother awaited them in the guise of the crone. Why would Keridwen bother transforming for a blind girl, unless she planned on granting her wish? Morvran’s heart shot into his throat; this little fantasy he was having was about to end miserably.
‘Mother.’ Morvran came to a stop, and would have let go of Morwyn’s hand, but she held firm. ‘This is Morwyn, who has made a very perilous journey of faith in the hope that you can heal her blindness. But you knew that,’ he challenged, and his mother frowned and cocked her head sideways.
‘My dear boy, I am a student of the grand plan, I am not the grand plan itself,’ she replied, most indignant. ‘Are you implying I sent this innocent child into peril, just so you might meet?’
Morwyn gasped on the implication, and Morvran was embarrassed. ‘I would never attempt to deliberately mislead you, Lord. I have nothing but admiration for your family, for I too have been considered a monster—’
‘Ladies, please . . . that is not what I was implying.’
‘Good,’ Keridwen huffed. ‘Now keep quiet and stop spoiling Morwyn’s dream.’
‘I . . .’
‘Shush,’ his mother insisted. ‘Bring our new friend forth.’
Morvran bit his tongue and did as instructed. On the outside he was frustrated, but on the inside he was terrified – his mother was well aware of this.
‘Well, my dear, you don’t appear anything like a monster to me.’ Keridwen touched her chin to direct the young woman’s head gently about. ‘It is rather a shame to lose such pretty eyes.’
‘Lose, Great Mother?’ Morwyn queried, her voice quivering in awe.
‘They were meant to be green.’
‘Green!’ the young woman gasped ever so quietly, clearly pleased by the news.
‘The unfortunate fact of the matter is this . . . if I restore your sight this instant, the first thing you will ever see is an ugly old crone and her demonised son. So perhaps it is best that yours is a gradual recovery, whereby we can return you home before your sight is fully restored and thus avoid giving you a great fright.’
Morvran found his mother’s offer alarming but it was comforting that Morwyn was forewarned and given the option.
‘With all due respect, Great Mother, I will never return home while I live, sight or no. I want the face of my saviour to be the first thing I ever see.’ Morwyn turned her head towards where Morvran was standing.
‘Mother, can’t we—’
‘No.’ Keridwen flattened his desire.
He wished his mother to invite Morwyn into her Otherworldly realm where he could appear as his Fey self. ‘But what harm?’
‘No,’ she insisted more adamantly.
Was she trying to thwart his first true shot at happiness? Admittedly, Morvran didn’t know the restrictions the Night Hunter placed on his curse, only his mother did; perhaps this was why she refused him?
‘This is Morwyn’s choice.’ Keridwen turned her attention back to the woman in question.
‘Only if that is pleasing to you, Morvran. I understand completely if you are wary of exposing your uniqueness to a mortal, for we can be so very cruel.’
‘I fear turning your dream into a nightmare,’ he explained his hesitation, and his mother served him a look that encouraged him to be more constructive.
‘You could not possibly,’ Morvran assured. ‘I have known monsters, and you are not one of them.’
‘As long as my presence gives you ease, I am here for you, Morwyn.’
Her smile returned, hence he resolved to comply to her will, for better or, more likely, worse.
‘Regardless of how you feel about our appearance, this healing is going to be a little shocking.’ All the torches in room dimmed at his mother’s unsaid bidding. ‘You may need to stay with us here at the castell until you are fully recovered.’
Morvran served his mother a cautioning look as she was blatantly trying to throw them together now, but she only shrugged, wearing a mother’s caring smile.
Meanwhile Morwyn was gulping. ‘You are too gracious.’ The young woman moved to bow, but Keridwen touched her shoulder and prevented it.
‘How very brave you are, to place your fate in the hands of the Gods so completely. Your faith and devotion to us, despite your life trials, brings me great joy. B
y sheer will you have brought your dreams into being and we could not be more proud.’ Keridwen closed Morwyn’s eyelids gently, and as she held her fingertips over the young woman’s eye sockets, tears began to stream from them.
‘I can cry.’ The realisation brought a flood, thus Keridwen conjured up a soft cloth and handed it to her. ‘Thank you, Great Mother.’ Morwyn dabbed the tears from her face and as she did, turned to face Morvran.
‘Slowly now.’ Morvran held off the urge to cover his face with his hand, to see her brilliant green irises between her frequent blinking and tears.
‘It’s so bright!’ she gasped, excited and overwhelmed. ‘I have never had need to blink so much in my life! No more sleeping with my eyes open.’ She laughed nervously and wavered about in her stance. ‘Your fears were unfounded, my Lord, everything is just a blur of brilliant colour. But I see it!’ She grinned at him and abruptly passed out. It was only that he still had hold of her hand that he managed to scoop her up before she hit the floor.
‘That’s probably for the best.’ Keridwen transformed into her younger human form, and stood to get on with her day. ‘Poor little mite is exhausted.’
‘Did you somehow arrange this? Have you put a spell on this poor girl, or—’
‘Morvran,’ she gently interrupted. ‘Why would I have bothered spending a year brewing a potion to bring you such happiness, if I could just bring you such happiness?’
She made a sound argument.
‘I knew nothing of this woman until you brought her into my sphere.’ His mother’s expression melted into a devious smile. ‘But I can tell you, this one has been dreaming of meeting us, and of you in particular.’ She left him feeling decidedly awkward. ‘I shall entrust her care and feeding to your ever so capable hands.’
‘But I don’t know anything about women.’
Keridwen found this amusing, halted and turned back around to impart her motherly advice. ‘Just dote on her as you do all those pets of yours, and she’ll be more spoilt than any woman on earth!’
Thus, while Morwyn slumbered in one of the guest rooms, Morvran set about finding anything he thought his guest might need when she awoke. He’d left a clean bedpan by the bed – and a bowl, wash cloth, some apples, bread and mead on a table. He then set off to raid his sister’s wardrobe to find some fresh clothes. As his mother refused to allow Morwyn into their Otherworldly dwelling, everything had to be done and sourced manually.
This Present Past Page 26
