This Present Past

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This Present Past Page 27

by Traci Harding


  Upon his return to the guest room, Morvran heard sounds of movement coming from within, and so knocked. ‘Morwyn, I have some fresh clothes for you.’

  ‘How sweet of you. You may enter.’

  He opened the door only wide enough to extend his arm inside and offer her the items ‘How is your focus now?’

  ‘I believe I can see quite clearly . . . at least in the dim light. It’s a miracle, Morvran, I have been goddess blessed.’ He was relieved of the clothes and Morwyn’s tiny hands clamped around his large hand. ‘So can I see my saviour now?’ One of her hands let go to slowly open the door, and Morvran quickly held his free hand to his face to shield her from the full impact of his hideousness.

  ‘Lord . . .’

  She gently pulled his hand away, and Morvran was stunned to find her adoring expression unaltered from before. ‘You are just as I imagined.’ She smiled broadly and hugged him about his waist. ‘Thank you for this magic!’ She let go and took hold of his hand, leading him inside the room. ‘This,’ she pointed to the bedspread, is green, yes? The colour of the trees and grass.’ She let go and ran to open the window shutter, shielding her eyes against the fading sunlight to point out at her reference.

  ‘Yes,’ Morvran confirmed. ‘The colour of your eyes.’

  ‘Quite the improvement, I’m sure.’ She glanced back to him.

  He shrugged indifferent. ‘If it pleases you.’

  ‘It does please me, so much.’ She looked back to the view. ‘Sky is blue, the colour of cool . . . I love blue!’ She closed the window as her eyes had begun to water. ‘And you are red.’ She brushed her tears away and returned to take up his hand and look it over. ‘The colour of warmth.’ She served him a cheeky grin. ‘How apt.’

  ‘Most women don’t find that attractive.’ Repressing his smile was making his face ache, but his sharp pointed teeth were not his most comely feature.

  ‘Well I am not most women,’ she said proudly, ‘and I think you are wonderful.’

  Her words made his chest ache; it felt like his heart would slam right out through his ribs. Yet he still harboured concerns that she was somehow enchanted, or being kind out of gratitude. ‘That feeling is mutual.’

  ‘So, you don’t mind that your mother has invited me to stay a little while?’

  Was she teasing him? ‘You are safe here; knowing that makes me very happy.’

  ‘Your home is very beautiful. Will you show me around?’

  ‘Are you not weary?’

  ‘Not in the slightest. This is a whole new world for me, and I want to know everything!’

  As she was so very excited at this prospect, he agreed. ‘You change, eat, and I shall give you the tour.’

  ‘Yay!’ She pulled his hand down so that he might crouch lower and kissed his cheek.

  That did it; there was no repressing his goofy canine grin. ‘I have some chores to see to—’

  ‘I can help!’ She was amazed to say this. ‘I can actually be of aid now, rather than always a hindrance! This is so liberating!’ Morwyn threw her arms wide and did a twirl around, but lost her balance. Morvran caught hold of her before she collided with the bedpost.

  ‘That might be a bit ambitious.’ He set her back on her feet.

  ‘Or a sneaky tactic to end up in your arms?’ She gazed longingly up at him, and Morvran, completely stumped by her comeback, backed away.

  ‘I . . . I should leave you to . . .’ He motioned to the clothes and food as she grinned at him, eyebrows raised and nodding. ‘I’ll wait out here.’ He escaped into the hallway and closed the door.

  There was so much excitement brewing in his gut that Morvran thought he might be sick. He wanted to jump for joy, but was restrained by the fear that Morwyn was too good to be real. Would it matter if she weren’t? Yes, it mattered! He could not seduce a woman who had been coerced or enchanted, for that would not be love, so what would be the point? It was like she did not even see his cursed features. But then she had yet to lay eyes on a handsome man. Once she had a comparison, he feared her perception of him would alter dramatically, and if not, she was surely under a spell.

  Upon their arrival in the outer bailey, Creirwy drove the team straight up to the inner bailey where her brother would unharness the team from the carriage and see the horses to their stables.

  Gwion lingered in the outer bailey, and as the mist of their Otherworldly passage dispersed he spied a brand new dwelling on the hill beyond the bridge. ‘They’ve done brilliant work in our absence.’ The cottage appeared completed.

  Tacitus was seated on the hillside, smoking a large pipe, and gave Gwion a wave in acknowledgment.

  Gwion returned the gesture, and then made haste to the inner bailey to fetch Creirwy. As he rode in and dismounted, his lady was walking towards the castell entrance where Keridwen stood waiting to greet them in the guise of a crone. ‘How went the wedding?’

  ‘Very well.’ Creirwy scaled the stairs and Gwion moved double time to catch up as his mistress’s sights turned his way.

  ‘I delivered both your gift for the King and his new chief bard.’ He was dying to report, hoping he had in fact done as his mistress intended.

  The crone smiled. ‘You have good instinct, lad, you can trust it.’

  Her assurance was a huge relief.

  ‘Do we have company, Mother?’ Creirwy kissed the old woman’s cheek.

  ‘We certainly do. Your brother has a lady friend staying.’

  The news was a happy shock for them both.

  ‘We go away for a few days, and look what we miss,’ Gwion commented, heart warmed for his friend. ‘Not that we haven’t seen some action in the past few days.’

  ‘We can all swap stories over a family dinner tonight in the hall.’ Keridwen gave them notice.

  The family Tegid had not had dinner together since Gwion had arrived. ‘Are we celebrating something?’

  ‘No,’ Creirwy replied on her mother’s behalf. ‘Just endeavouring to seem normal. Will you not invite this lady into your realm, Mother?’

  ‘It is too soon to know if she belongs with us. And speaking of family—’ Keridwen directed her daughter back towards the portcullis ‘—your father has something to show you out beyond the bridge.’

  Creirwy was astonished. ‘Father is out beyond the bridge?’

  Keridwen nodded, smiling kindly. ‘Go and see.’

  ‘But Chiglas—’

  ‘Is sleeping like a babe.’ Keridwen gave her leave to follow her joy. ‘Go.’

  Creirwy, brimming with anticipation, grabbed hold of his hand. ‘Come, Gwion.’ She tugged him towards the exit into the outer bailey, but he stalled, awaiting his mistress’s leave.

  ‘We shall speak later; you may go.’

  Gwion allowed himself to be drawn away, but couldn’t help but note that he’d never seen the Mistress appear more content.

  ‘Who is this mysterious woman of my brother’s, I wonder?’ Creirwy slowed down to walk with Gwion, who was sore from riding – Moonlight was lovely but walking hurt less. ‘And what has drawn my father out—’ She gasped as they passed through the outer bailey exit to the bridge and she spied the cottage. ‘You did it!’ She turned about and hugged Gwion close to her breast.

  ‘I was with you; I did nothing,’ he confessed, despite enjoying the reward.

  ‘Only you could have coaxed Father out.’ She drew back and kissed his forehead. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Hey? Why does he get all the hugs?’ Tacitus had come to crouch at the far end of the bridge and the Lady released Gwion and ran like a young girl into her father’s awaiting embrace.

  ‘I can’t believe you came out here to do this for me.’ She snuggled her cheek to his.

  ‘Out here is not so bad as I remember.’ Tacitus stood and carried her like a wee toddler on his arm, along the road and up the new, less perilous path he’d stomped flat up the side of the mountain.

  Gwion high-tailed it across the bridge and directly up the steep hill, where he found a
retaining wall blocking where they used to climb up.

  ‘Need a hand?’ Tacitus gripped hold of the back of Gwion’s shirt and lifted him over into the small courtyard between the front of the house and the steep cliff face containing the entrance to the library.

  Thank you, Lord.’ Gwion straightened up his attire, and a heavy clack startled him. The source was Morvran, hammering a metal nail into a door hinge as a beautiful young woman sat on a wood stump near him, waiting to hand him another nail.

  ‘You’ve been busy.’ Gwion smiled at his friend, meaning that in more ways than one.

  ‘Gwion, Creirwy.’ Morvran put down his hammer as his sister was lowered to the ground. ‘This is Morwyn, a lady left stranded in these parts.’

  ‘The Goddess kindly offered to allow me to reside at Castell Tegid a little while.’ She wiped tears from her eyes. ‘Sorry, I was blind before yesterday and my eyes are still adjusting.’ She smiled broadly. ‘But I am sincerely very honoured to make the acquaintance of two such highly esteemed people as yourselves.’

  ‘What a lovely energy you have.’ Creirwy clearly warmed to her immediately and hugged Morwyn instead of allowing her to bow, holding her new acquaintance close for a moment. ‘Yes, I can see why nature elementals are drawn to you.’ The Lady pulled back to observe not Morwyn, but the space around her.

  ‘You see such wonder around me, Lady?’ Morwyn was enchanted.

  She nodded, surely. ‘You are pure of heart, just like my brother.’ Creirwy looked to Morvran. ‘I approve.’

  Morvran clearly felt his sister was assuming too much. ‘Approve of what, dear sister?’

  ‘Why, Morwyn staying with us of course.’ She neared her brother and gently kissed his cheek. ‘What else would I mean?’

  The siblings grinned at each other, both choosing to play innocent. ‘Be nice to me,’ Morvran appealed. ‘I built you a house.’

  ‘We!’ Tacitus shrank to normal human size and stepped out of his large trousers to join his children, pulling up the sleeves of his now oversized shirt that hung on him like a long dress.

  ‘You did!’ She kissed them both as she was hugged between them, and Gwion felt honoured to be so close to such an amazing family; the love and respect they showed one another was an inspiration to him. If he were ever to have a family of his own, he wanted to emulate their example.

  ‘Come, let me show you.’ Morvran lifted his sister up beside him with one arm and carried her inside; Tacitus followed.

  ‘Are you truly Gwion Bach, who raised from the dead a thousand men?’ asked Morwyn, and Gwion nodded.

  ‘Not a thousand.’

  ‘They’ve written a song about you, you know? Gwion Bach, our—’

  Gwion winced and held up a hand to entreat her not to continue. ‘Yes, I’ve heard.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ Morwyn laughed at seeing his aversion. ‘Singing was never my strong suit.’

  ‘Nor is being sung about mine.’

  ‘Oh I see!’ She was amused by her own turn of phrase as they followed the family inside the roundhouse. A hallway led to the open living space where the hearth sat beneath the centre of the roof. ‘But if you did not want to be famous, why did you do all those amazing things?’

  Gwion shrugged, his eyes fixed on Creirwy as she admired the view of the castell through her front window. ‘Because I could.’

  ‘Hmm . . . clearly there were some details left out of the ode.’

  Gwion shifted his attention to Morwyn to discern her meaning, but she had already moved to join the tour.

  ‘And what is this room?’ The entrance hall created two rooms to either side of the roundhouse. One could be opened to the main part of the house by drawing back a curtain, and this was where Creirwy’s bed was located. To the other side of the hallway was an enclosed room with a barred iron door that could be locked. It was this room that had drawn the Lady’s attention.

  ‘In case you need to go somewhere and need a safe place to store things in your absence,’ Morvran was quick to explain, though Gwion felt the entire family knew why they had incorporated what was basically a prison cell in his lady’s cottage. ‘Just in case,’ Morvran added gently.

  Creirwy forced a smile and nodded. ‘You have thought of everything. I cannot tell you both how much easier my life is about to become.’ She hugged both her brother and father at once. ‘My saviours! I feel truly blessed.’

  ‘Mother has even offered to take care of your babe for the night, so that your first night in your new home will be a peaceful one.’

  ‘Goodness, that shall be a treat.’ Creirwy found her smile again as she chanced a glance at Gwion.

  ‘Let us feast!’ Tacitus spurred them all to a cheer.

  Castell Tegid in its mortal form was nowhere near as hospitable to live in. Gwion was back to a wash bowl with lukewarm water, and a lumpy bed with no star view, but it was worth a little discomfort to see his friend romanced.

  Pulling his head out of the wash bowl, Gwion heard the rapping on his door, and did not have time to respond before Morvran came charging in and closed the door. ‘I need your help.’

  ‘If it is advice on women you seek—’ Gwion squeezed the excess water from his hair, and then shook his head like a mutt ‘—you may note I’ve not been highly successful in that department.’ He grabbed a cloth to wipe himself down.

  ‘I think Morwyn might be enchanted.’ Morvran was out with it.

  ‘With you? Yes, I noticed that.’

  ‘That’s what I mean. She is . . . beyond ravishing, and I . . . It’s like she can’t even see this hideous form I wear. She keeps looking at me longingly and I don’t know what to do.’

  ‘Call me stupid, but you could try a kiss?’ Gwion mocked his problems.

  ‘And where might that lead?’ Morvran challenged and stood tall. ‘Look at me! She is tiny! I’ll kill her.’

  Gwion had to admit that mental image was a little disturbing. ‘Look . . .’ He pushed Morvran to be seated on the bed, so that he could look him in the eye and not get neck strain. ‘I believe you are overthinking this. Just go with the flow, let her lead and if she wants to kiss you, let her.’

  ‘And if she has been unwittingly coerced to show me favour?’ Morvran was not appeased.

  ‘It’s just a kiss,’ Gwion urged his friend to lighten up. ‘It won’t leave any permanent damage.’

  Morvran was slightly encouraged before his anxious frown returned. ‘I have nothing nice to wear to dinner.’

  Gwion had to laugh, having never thought to hear those words come out of Morvran’s mouth. ‘That won’t matter one iota.’

  The amazing tales of the past few days were imparted over dinner to the amusement of the entire family. Gwion had been watching how Morwyn regarded Morvran throughout the evening, and if his instinct counted for anything he would swear the young woman was completely besotted.

  ‘In Viroco they shall be writing a new ode about how you vanished with the Lady Tegid and danced with the ghosts all night!’ Morwyn suggested, delighted by their tales of the wedding. ‘I shall write an ode about my saviour.’ She gazed lovingly up at Morvran alongside her. ‘Who saved me from a huge llewyn and a drop to certain death.’

  ‘A llewyn!’ Gwion had yet to hear that part of the story. ‘How did you scare off a wild cat?’

  ‘I scare everyone!’ Morvran jested, but Morwyn wasn’t convinced.

  ‘No, seriously, I know I heard more than one wild cat.’

  ‘Two llewyn?’ Gwion was starting to doubt this tale.

  The room fell quiet and Morwyn looked around at the family who were all smiling shyly – except Gwion, who wasn’t in on the joke.

  ‘What is amusing?’ Now Morwyn, who was a little drunk, chuckled nervously. ‘I need to know, so I can compose the song,’ she defended playfully, turning her large green eyes to appeal to Morvran.

  ‘Close your eyes,’ he prompted.

  ‘All right.’ She did as asked. ‘Now what?’

  Morvran appeared to
melt beneath the table and Gwion gasped, prompting Morwyn to open her eyes. Her gaze dropped to the seat beside her and she gasped again as she lifted a fluffy white llewyn cub from a pile of Morvran’s clothes.

  Gwion was stunned. Morvran had never mentioned this ability to him, but then he had been told they were a family of shifters and he had seen them all morph form in one way or another.

  ‘Aww . . . so adorable.’ Morwyn hugged the cub close to her breast and stroked him as he nuzzled underneath her chin. ‘Oh, you like that?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure he likes that.’ Gwion felt it time to take his leave, and stood to do so.

  ‘Walk me out to the cottage?’ Creirwy followed his lead.

  ‘I’m pretty tired myself, from all that building.’ Tacitus rose next.

  ‘I best check on my grandson.’ Keridwen also made a hasty retreat.

  ‘Thank you for the lovely dinner.’ Morwyn stood, still cuddling the wee wild cat.

  ‘Sleep well,’ they bid as they exited the hall and entered the foyer.

  ‘I’ll bring Chiglas out to you in the morning,’ Keridwen advised Creirwy. ‘Get a good night’s sleep as tomorrow you will be raising a child mortal fashion.’

  Creirwy pulled a nervous face. ‘It is the only way forward . . . but at least it is a way forward. I am so grateful to you both.’ The Lady hugged each of her parents in turn.

  ‘It was good to be needed for a change.’ Tacitus smiled. ‘I do so much learning and rarely get to put it to good use any more. Still, I must confess, I can hardly wait to get back to my quarters and shed this tiny body.’ He pulled at his skin as though it were a shirt that was too tight.

  ‘You could keep it on a little longer.’ His crone of a wife served him a wink. ‘It won’t take me too long to see to the babe.’

  ‘Right then.’ Gwion opened the front door to make good their escape. ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘It certainly is,’ Tacitus chuckled at the lad’s discomfort as they went their separate ways.

 

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