Chronicle of Ages

by Traci Harding

  Then I shall consider this matter resolved. Tory’s form lowered to the ground, and as her true features returned she blacked out and fell to the ground.

  The King and Selwyn both rushed to her aid, but the Queen of Gwynedd was out cold.

  I have plans for thee, Dragon, Gwyn advised. Leave thy queen on the bed to recover. Amabel will stay with her.

  The King placed Tory comfortably on the bed. ‘Best that thou art dreaming through this,’ he uttered, and taking up her hands to draw upon her strength, he pressed her fingers to his lips.

  Gwyn noticed Amabel become all teary-eyed as she observed how the King doted on his Queen. All right, break it up. Gwyn beckoned with a finger for Maelgwn to follow him.

  As his King moved off, Selwyn chanced a glance at Amabel, who smiled back at him, teary-eyed. ‘I handled this situation very badly, Amabel. I had no right to judge thee,’ Selwyn said, near choking on the lump of remorse welling in his throat.

  Thy judgment wast just, she admitted, making no move to approach him, nor to pursue the conversation further.

  Selwyn shook his head. Amabel hovered but a few feet away, but the distance between them felt suddenly vast. What had the Goddess said to her that had caused Amabel to distance herself from him like this? Or had it been his own cutting words that had done it?

  Coming, druid? Gwyn yelled back to Selwyn and he was forced to make a move.

  ‘Forgive me,’ Selwyn implored the nymph as he backed up to take his leave.

  There be nothing to forgive, she wholeheartedly assured him. ’Twas my mistake.

  Her words drove a stake through his heart, which Selwyn closed his eyes to endure. So that was the tack the Goddess had taken, that their love had been nothing but a sad misunderstanding. Surely the Goddess was right, and at some distant point in time, Selwyn would come to see that. But for the present, the event was still too fresh in his mind, and the only aspect of that memory that he found sad or regretful was that Amabel would never again sing her siren song with him.

  8

  Elementary

  The Lord of the Night led the would-be High King and his Merlin to an extraordinary grove of old oak trees that stood like huge sentinels from the dawn of time. The moon glowed with a violet hue, and as the brightly-coloured terrain emitted its own glow, the night was near as bright as the day in Annwn.

  Upon scaling a steep embankment, they came to a ring of oaks that encircled a large clearing of soft moss-like grass.

  ‘I imagined somewhere far more ominous,’ Maelgwn commented as he followed the Night Hunter into the clearing. ‘So what shall my test be? A quest? An errand?’

  ’Tis more a trial really … elementary. Gwyn ap Nudd came to stop in the centre of the clearing and conjured a magnificent chalice from the ethers, which he offered to his initiate. I know thou art valorous and diplomatic, Dragon. Thy past deeds are not unknown to me. But I am not interested in the king of legend, the Maelgwn Gwynedd everybody sees at present … I wish to discover the essence of the man known only to thy higher self.

  The King removed his weapons and excess clothing and walked over to accept the chalice from his host. ‘Then I have nothing to fear.’

  Gwyn ap Nudd smiled, admiring the Dragon’s fortitude. Our test be one of observation, the Lord advised, so just relax and enjoy the ride … I shall be with thee all the way.

  ‘Just a moment.’ Selwyn stopped the King from drinking the brew, as he wasn’t sure he understood the proceedings. ‘What exactly art thou planning to subject my king to? And what,’ the Druid gazed into the chalice filled with glowing ultra-violet fluid, ‘purpose will this serve?’

  The elixir will aid the separation from his physical form, whereby his inner sight will allow thy king to proceed to trial and see his jurors, Gwyn advised, bracing the druid’s shoulders in both his hands and pushing him back to a seat out of the way. His physical body shall keep thee informed of his progress and mental state of health.

  ‘As he did at inauguration?’ Selwyn clarified.

  Just. Gwyn backed up to join Maelgwn as the King downed the glowing brew. So kindly keep quiet and enjoy the show. The Lord raised his brows a couple of times to heighten the druid’s anticipation and then turned to his initiate to suggest, Thou had best sit down.

  ‘Whoa!’ Maelgwn held his head and staggered back a few paces before finally stumbling to a seat. ‘Everything’s gone white!’ The King dropped the chalice and used both hands to steady himself.

  Be still Dragon, Gwyn advised calmly. Thou shalt see soon enough.

  ‘My sight hast returned!’ Maelgwn announced as he went very still. What Selwyn thought peculiar was that the King’s eyes were closed.

  ‘I am floating high above myself,’ said Maelgwn.

  Selwyn looked up above the King, but saw nothing.

  ‘Higher,’ Maelgwn advised the Merlin.

  Selwyn raised his sights, and gasped upon sighting a floating spectral form, which was not really recognisable as his King. He maintained his vow of silence, however, as the Night Hunter raised his hands into the air to announce:

  The north wind blows across the earth

  carrying the secrets of past and future.

  With the Lord’s words Selwyn felt a stirring movement in the breeze. A glowing green mass of vapours was seen to rise out of the forest floor to the north of the clearing and it began to weave its way towards them through the trees.

  ‘There are masses of lights rising out of the forest,’ Maelgwn’s physical form stated. ‘Green lights, very bright … they art singing so beautifully,’ the King informed, sounding quite enchanted by what he was hearing.

  Selwyn, however, heard no such song nor did he see the green lights. Perhaps the green vapour he observed was some by-product of what the King was seeing?

  As the glowing green mass entered the clearing, it rose high above the King and encircled the spectral being that hovered above him.

  ‘They art little beings! Every one of them,’ Maelgwn enlightened Selwyn, sounding most enchanted. ‘They art taking me somewhere … it be the room of court at Degannwy.’

  Selwyn settled in to commit to memory all the information that the King conveyed during his out-of-body episode. Gwyn ap Nudd stood, eyes closed, telepathically following every thought and emotion the King experienced — Selwyn assumed this as the Night Hunter mimicked Maelgwn’s reactions to the letter.

  ‘I am seeing through a looking glass,’ Maelgwn continued, raising a hand as if holding up the item — as did Gwyn who was standing behind him. ‘I see Taliesin appearing as young as myself. He comforts my queen, and I am angered as I watch them together.’

  Why am I not surprised, Selwyn thought to himself, yet he was intrigued by what the King said next.

  ‘My jealousy sickens me. I am wrong to mistrust her, despite the secret she withholds from me.’ Then, even though Maelgwn’s eyes were still firmly closed, he raised both hands as if to shield his sight from a bright light. ‘Ah!’ he cried, pained briefly. ‘I am somewhere else now, looking down a stream of light. Beneath me I see Tory, lit up like an angel. She cries for me. Nay! I am not ready to leave her.’ Maelgwn’s hands dropped into his lap as he began to weep. ‘Twenty years, ’tis not enough.’

  Gwyn ap Nudd waved a hand over Maelgwn’s head whereby the King calmed immediately. The Lord of the Night took longer to recover from the overwhelming emotions the Dragon was experiencing.

  The west wind brings the mist,

  inspiration of water and light.

  Selwyn looked to the west where a great blue mist came crashing down a gully like a huge ocean wave. Upon reaching the ring of oaks the torrid mist fused into a steady stream of swirling light matter that wound itself up and around the blanket of green haze that harboured his King’s soul.

  ‘Water,’ said Maelgwn. ‘Oceans of water. I am swimming in a beautiful blue ocean. A blue lady swims with me. I am stunned at the ease with which she moves through the water. My love for this woman overwhelms me. Ho
w can it be wrong?’ Maelgwn appealed, becoming upset once more.

  Selwyn had lost the King now. He had no idea what he was talking about. But he committed each word to memory as was his task; maybe some day it would all make sense.

  Again Gwyn ap Nudd quieted his initiate before continuing.

  The east wind be of the air,

  travelling at the speed of thought.

  ‘Uh-oh,’ Selwyn uttered as he was seated to the east. The druid threw himself to the ground and barely managed to duck below the golden streak of wind that whipped over him and spun itself around the hovering blue ball of watery mist.

  Maelgwn gripped his knees, as if holding on for dear life. ‘I am in some manner of transport being propelled through the heavens at an amazing speed.’ The King seemed to be finding it difficult to squeeze his words out. ‘I cannot explain the feeling … better than sex.’ Maelgwn smiled in conclusion, as did Gwyn ap Nudd. The Lord set the King at ease before calling in the last of the four elemental winds.

  The south wind of primordial fire,

  blows forth from the dawn of life.

  The Lord of the Night pronounced this, and Selwyn looked to the south, considering that this wind sounded more ominous than those that had been summoned before it.

  It took the form of a ball of glowing orange fire that came charging out of the forest to collide with the golden whirling body of energy above Maelgwn’s head. The mass exploded into flame.

  The King’s physical body rebounded with the impact of the flaming orb on his psyche, and yet he drew a deep and satisfied breath. ‘I behold an amazing city in the middle of a paradise. A bright blue-green planet, the colour of which be beyond my meagre powers of description. I love this place.’ Maelgwn suddenly stiffened. ‘I am travelling away from the planet now, far away.’ The King then relaxed again, his tone becoming very calm. ‘I float among the stars and before me I see a great whirling, spiralling vortex of glowing mist-like matter. I am at one with her now.’ A tear trickled down Maelgwn’s face as he said this. ‘I am at peace.’

  This soul hast won our blessing,

  let him reign as our High King.

  A curse on all who would oppose him,

  for the elemental winds have spoken.

  As Gwyn decreed this, the flaming ball of energy exploded in a shower of orange sparks, then a shower of gold sparks, blue sparks and finally green. Each wind dispersed in the direction and manner from which it had come. The glowing spectral form of Maelgwn’s soul-mind descended back to earth to join with his physical form, whereby the King collapsed unconscious upon union.

  Gwyn looked down upon the human warrior, staggered by his capacity to grasp, accept and deal with a destiny that was far beyond his current comprehension. Our High King be a truly extraordinary individual, druid … although he be totally clueless to the fact. The Lord found this point amusing. I shall keep it that way for now. Only thee and I shall recall thy king’s wee exploration into his future. Gwyn held his palm to the druid’s forehead but Selwyn was quick to step away. I have need to speak with our High King on a certain matter that thee would not care to know about. Gwyn explained his reasons for wanting to place the druid in a dream state.

  ‘Amabel,’ Selwyn concluded, but the momentary distraction of her image proved fatal. Gwyn reached out and made contact with Selwyn’s forehead.

  Sleep, druid.

  … how dost one win the heart of someone whose sole purpose in life be to make mischief?

  Selwyn woke to the sound of Gwyn ap Nudd’s voice.

  ‘I know what thou doth mean,’ Maelgwn was heard to reply. ‘Tory be exactly the same. Still, most of her mischief usually proves justified in the end.’

  Not the case with Amabel, said Gwyn. There be no end to her torment. Thy druid will not be the last on her long list of broken hearts … someone must make an honest nymph of her.

  ‘I believe,’ Maelgwn placed a hand on Gwyn’s shoulder to assure him, ‘thou art the man for the mission.’

  ‘Not if I have anything to do with it,’ Selwyn stood, outraged by the lies the God was feeding his King.

  Thou art way out of thy depth, druid. Best get out of the water before thou art drowned, Gwyn suggested.

  ‘I would gladly drown,’ Selwyn admitted, ‘if it meant Amabel wast not forced to marry someone she doth not love.’

  ‘Selwyn.’ Maelgwn’s tone urged him to proceed cautiously.

  Nay. Gwyn prevented the King from intervening, and calmly looked to Selwyn to enlighten him with a few home truths about the female he was prepared to give his all for. Amabel wast born of the branch of the Tylwyth Teg that art akin to the elementals of the air. Hence, I can assure thee, the nymph in question loves no one. Amabel hast yet to understand love as thou dost understand it. Which be why she hast taken to dwelling near the water lately. She longs to know the depths of emotion. She appears to be emotional, only because she reads thy mind and knows what thou dost want to see … to her, love be a momentary thing, like the twinkle of moonlight on water, or a pretty tune well played.

  ‘I think thou art the one who hast no idea about Amabel, Lord —’ Selwyn knew different. Why would she have freed him from the tree and tried to help him, if she did not truly care?

  Believe what thee will, druid. Only time will teach thee. It be not my place. Gwyn waved off the argument.

  ‘I want to see her,’ Selwyn demanded.

  If Amabel wishes to seek thee out in Abred, she may do so. But right now it be time to fulfil the will of the Goddess. The game be over and I have won, Gwyn looked back to Maelgwn, a new and powerful ally.

  Selwyn’s memory went a bit hazy at this point, but when his senses returned to him, he found himself standing atop the rise at Craig-y-Ddinas. The Lord of the Night was at his side, addressing the leaders of allied Briton.

  Most of the events of this night will be a blur, for ye will maintain only that knowledge required to carry out the resolve we have reached this day. Except thee, druid. Gwyn ap Nudd turned his attention to Selwyn. Thy memory remains intact, for it be thy penance to remember. Then Gwyn willed that the druid alone hear his final words. Thou shalt be haunted by Amabel for as long as it pleases thee, Selwyn.

  As Selwyn bowed his head to accept the Lord’s punishment, he had already made up his mind to find Amabel.

  As Gwyn ap Nudd ascended into the air the mist lifted from the construction site exposing the full extent of the bloodbath there. The dawn light began to stream through the departing cloud cover as the Night Hunter unleashed the elemental dominions to resurrect the bodies of the butchered.

  Down in the vale, Selwyn observed the leaders of the alliance, confused by their lack of recall of the previous night. The last thing Selwyn wanted was to answer their questions, at least until he’d had time to think the night through himself. He needed to be elsewhere and so willed himself to the first place that came to mind.

  The grove was nowhere near as beautiful here in the cold, harsh reality of Abred and for the first time ever, the golden sun above seemed an inferior energy source. The lush, mossy grass was just a patch of dirt and the oak trees themselves seemed miniature in comparison to their etheric world counterparts.

  Alone with himself, Selwyn could finally begin to sort out the matted web of emotions that had taken over his heart in the matter of a day. Now he wanted to cry, the tears wouldn’t come, just flashes of Amabel’s tenderness that teased his joy a moment, before paining him to the core.

  Put Amabel from thy mind, Selwyn.

  It was the voice of Keridwen that disturbed his self torture, and it angered Selwyn that he could not even savour this small fragment of Amabel without a reprimand.

  ‘Why art thou so opposed to the idea of us?’ he cried out at the top of his lungs, demanding an explanation as he had never done before.

  Amabel’s destiny and thine lie in different worlds, Selwyn. Thou shalt find —

  ‘Please do not speak of me falling in love with another.’ Selwyn began pacin
g around furiously. ‘In all of Abred there be none to compare with Amabel.’

  If thou dost feel so much for this nymph who was merely a lustful whim for thee, just imagine how extraordinary thy true love shall be?

  Selwyn didn’t want to accept his disassociation from Amabel as part of his destiny. ‘I refuse to forget her,’ he swore in defiance, collapsing onto the ground to lie on his back and embrace everything he was feeling.

  Thou hast a great life ahead of thee, Selwyn … if thee would neglect thy destiny to pine after this waif, that be thy choice. But destiny waits for no man and will move on to a more willing and receptive partner if kept waiting too long.

  The druid felt the Goddess depart his company, and the atmosphere within the circle of trees became notably bleaker to his senses. ‘Amabel!’ he yelled as loud as he was able, knowing Gwyn ap Nudd would not allow her to come to him as vowed.

  The strum of his harp prevented Selwyn wallowing further into a state of depression. He sat up to find the instrument with its skin laying on the ground alongside it.

  ‘Amabel?’ Selwyn lowered his voice now, not wanting to scare the nymph off if she was looming about.

  A gentle breeze stirred in the wake of the question.

  Selwyn rose and walked to the harp. If anything would draw Amabel out, it would be their tune. As there was no suitable seating arrangement within the circle of oaks, Selwyn knelt down beside his instrument and leant it against his shoulder to play. Their tune came to him at once and he played it over and over, solo.

  When finally the druid stopped strumming, he returned his harp to its skin. He had never before felt lonely and now his loneliness was all consuming.

  Jolly good show, hey what?

  Selwyn didn’t recognise the pompous tone of this voice. ‘Who said that?’

  Aye, rather good, said a second voice, that was rather old and croaky. He could use a larger repertoire, perhaps?