The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy

by Lowri Thomas

  ‘Why what?’ barked Aeron from the doorway to his chamber. He glared at Afagddu with mistrust. ‘And why are you sitting there with derwydd yn tân in the palm of your hand, Afagddu?’

  For a moment Afagddu stared down at his hand in confusion before willing the flame to be extinguished. Closing his hand into a fist, he looked directly in Aeron’s eyes and lied. ‘I’m sorry my Lord, I lost myself for a moment. I bring dark tidings. The Seeker I sent to Ty Mawr has been killed and the family’s barn has been destroyed. What is worse, the Seeker was inside the barn and we have been deprived of a hound – I was imagining what I would do if I caught the persons responsible for upsetting your chosen donor when you disturbed my thoughts. My sincere apologies my Lord, it will not happen again.’

  Aeron was looking for the lie but saw none, so he patted his councillor on his twisted shoulder and motioned for him to enter his chambers. ‘We are diminishing are we not, Afagddu?’ Aeron strolled to the huge fireplace built into the walls of the mountain and with a nonchalant glance caused the logs within to erupt into flames. ‘All the Triskele are fading; Chosen, Druid and the Bwy Hir alike. We are being punished through every age, Afagddu. We keep the covenant, and yet the heavens rain down their retributions but we will not falter!’ Aeron spoke with conviction. ‘We will not falter, will we Afagddu? We will all keep the covenants, won’t we Afagddu?’

  Afagddu felt a sensation he was unused to: angst. So he slipped into an auspicious demeanour of compliant servant. ‘We shall always keep the covenants, my Lord,’ Afagddu answered with equal vigour. ‘Our duty is to serve the Bwy Hir, follow the path of true knowledge, guard the Chosen, and pledge our lives to the service of our rightful masters.’

  ‘Good,’ Aeron crooned. ‘You remember your vows well. Are we not worthy masters, Afagddu? Did we not bestow upon you the most illustrious of gifts? The derwydd yn tân you so expertly wield, knowledge beyond your wildest imaginings, did we not shelter you from the onslaught of the Romans and their Christian beliefs, did we not bestow upon you the delay of death?’ Aeron’s eyes flashed dangerously, cruelly.

  ‘We are ever grateful to the Bwy Hir, my Lord.’ Afagddu’s bow was low and servile, his eyes fixed on the floor in front of him. Why was Aeron baiting him?

  Aeron studied his councillor a moment longer before turning his back on him and returning to his balcony to observe the veils of cloud gathered at the mountain peak as they began to blacken and boil. ‘I feel strong,’ he said over his shoulder, ‘a full moon is rising. Prepare a feast and call my brothers, I would meet with them this night.’

  ‘As you command.’ Afagddu bowed once more before parting on silent feet.

  Aeron inhaled the cooling, crisp evening air deep into his lungs, inhaling and exhaling, savouring each breath. He closed his eyes to the resonance of the horn blast reverberating through the valleys. His brothers were being summoned. Autumn had been declared.

  Riding on the wind the call was lifted up and away, rippling over the hills and mountains, through field and vale carrying its message far and wide. Down it sped to the shores of Llanberis Lake, throbbing through the darkest waters to the hidden caves beneath, reaching the sleeping occupant cradled within. Gwrnach’s sparkling eyes snapped open, his black plaited beard splitting to show a broad toothy smile.

  On it flew to the Coed y Brennin forest, sweeping through the trees and skimming the forest floor until it pierced the mossy mantel of Cadno’s lair, where he stirred and stretched luxuriously.

  On and on, rushing, rippling. Gwydion, Gryff, Brenig, Llud and Celyn-Bach were the next to hear the call, yawning and stirring from their slumber. Last to be summoned was Bran, short tempered and inimical, he growled at the intrusion and flexed his fleshy fists. Its purpose complete, the call faded into the darkening sky, spent and silent.

  Afagddu wiped the spittle off his lips as the last note faded, carried away on the evening breeze that blew through the saddle of the mountains.

  Druids were sent scurrying in all directions in preparation for the arrival of the Bwy Hir soon to descend upon the Halls of the Druid.

  The vast kitchens housed in the lower floors sprang into action. Cooks and lackeys alike bustling to stoke fires and prepare a feast magnificent enough to sate the most ravenous of the assembly just woken from sleep.

  To call the male Bwy Hir from slumber this early was rare and Afagddu couldn’t fathom the reasons for Aeron’s sudden haste. Afagddu flinched at the knot in his stomach. Aeron had unsettled him, his new found strength and sudden vitality were disturbing enough, but this new guile and peevishness was unnerving and Afagddu hated how it left him feeling so vulnerable.

  Afagddu descended from the bartizan and made his presence felt in every nook and cranny of the halls below. Nothing would go wrong tonight, everything would be perfect for the reunion of the Bwy Hir Host, he would see to it himself. He would give no reason to anger Aeron further. Afagddu hadn’t missed Aeron’s deliberate display of power as he’d dismissively lit the fire – his antagonistic reminder of the vows undertaken by every Druid initiate and the barbs hidden within every Bwy Hir bequest. He ground his teeth in vexation; he preferred it when Aeron slept.

  Afagddu strode past the Hall of Mirrors and twisted his head to watch Druids passing in and out of the ranks of mirrors fastened to the walls. He was always drawn to the marvel of glass melting into mist and solidifying to reflect the perfect moonlight shining onto each mirror from the ingenious system of angled reflective plates rigged in perfect angles up through the ceiling to reach the open sky far above their heads to reflect the sky back down to each of the Druid mirrors that had a twin in every Chosen house. These were the doors to the Chosen; a Druid could be standing in a Chosen house in a second by simply walking through the misted mirror to the other side. These were another gift from the Bwy Hir and although they were a poor cousin to the Cerdd Carega, they were invaluable to the Druids nevertheless.

  Satisfied nothing was amiss in the Hall of Mirrors, Afagddu continued on into the Great Hall to oversee the preparations personally. Berry-sprinkled garlands were draped from the huge candlelit iron sconces suspended from the cavernous ceiling. A roaring fire blazed in both fireplaces set at each end of the hall, barrels of beer and mead were rolled into position against another wall next to tables laden with bread, cheeses, fruits and cold meats.

  A feast of venison and swan was being prepared by the most senior of cooks, the lesser relegated to preparation of the copious quantities of accompanying vegetables.

  The most accomplished bards would be summoned to entertain later in the evening and the sound of harps and strong tenors in song could be heard echoing through the Halls as they rehearsed.

  Ten oversized seats were placed around the huge oval oak table that dominated the centre of the room. Eight were high backed and richly carved and the ninth was a throne set at the head of the table where Aeron himself would sit. Afagddu would be in attendance, inconspicuously waiting in the shadows behind the throne ready to do his master’s bidding should it so be desired. The remaining chair, smaller than Aeron’s but no less adorned was reserved for Taliesin and positioned directly across the table at the opposite end.

  This early preparation had Afagddu off balance. He decided the most prudent course of action was to put his plans on hold, at least for now. He would bide his time, he was patient when necessary. Afagddu tasted the bitter tang of disappointment when he realised the Morgan boy would now get to live, at least as long as the Solstice, but after that? Well Afagddu would have to wait and see. The boy had won only a reprieve, and that brought Afagddu at least some solace.

  Finally satisfied everything was in order, Afagddu made his way to his own meagre cell to prepare himself for the evening ahead. His body servant had already pressed his finest black robes and laid them carefully out on his bed. Warm water filled the bowl on his washstand and a small fire already graced the hearth warming the room.

  Of his servant there was no sign – he knew that Afagd
du allowed no-one to watch him disrobe, a habit carried from his childhood. He hid his deformities away from a cruel, judgemental, ignorant world. Not even his own reflection was permitted to gaze upon his naked body, his private shame.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Mab stood naked in the centre of the clearing, immodestly twisting and turning to gaze at her body from every angle in the huge bronze mirror held by two beautiful Bwy Hir handmaidens. They cast encouraging glances to their queen as they stood passively on either side of the mirror supporting its weight.

  Tylwyth Teg roamed through the clearing bearing refreshments for the Bwy Hir or tidying around them, keeping the place neat. Much smaller than the Bwy Hir, smaller even than Humans, the Tylwyth Teg where childlike in stature and most pleasing to behold. Both male and female were perfectly proportioned with the grace of dancers. They were shy and discreet, polite and capable. Humans called them fair-folk or fairies.

  Mab critically viewed her reflection, running her hands over her sumptuous hips and thighs, tensing the muscles on her long, shapely legs, squinting and pulling her face checking for any hint of a wrinkle. ‘Oh, I’m fading!’ she wailed, as she threw her hands up, storming to gather her flowing green robes around her.

  Awel clicked her tongue. ‘You are not fading, Mab,’ she said testily. ‘Must we do this every year? There is time before the overwinter yet, time before we slumber.’ Awel fussed at her own robes, wishing she was half as beautiful as her queen until she checked herself. I’m as vain as she is! she thought, as she wriggled in her seat.

  ‘I am fading! I can feel it.’ Mab shuddered dramatically. ‘I can feel him too,’ referring to Aeron, ‘he is awake and potent. I can feel his strength from here already.’

  ‘So soon?’ questioned Awel. ‘He gains power quickly.’

  ‘As quickly as I wane!’ Mab moaned, wringing her hands.

  A sudden gust buffeted the dell, sending leaves and petals spiralling into the air. Upon it came the sound of the horn calling the male Bwy Hir to Council and announcing the imminent conclusion of Summer’s reign.

  The unexpected shock of the blast shattered the tranquillity of the glade and left chaos in its wake. The two Bwy Hir holding the mirror had released their grip, the mirror toppled backward to explode into glittering shards, the crash of breaking glass drowned by Mab’s frantic howl.

  Awel jumped to her feet and straight into action. Grabbing the nearest handmaiden, she spun her round and shouted her instructions. ‘Gather the Pride!’ she yelled. ‘Call them to Council immediately!’ she cried, sending her off with a push. ‘You!’ She pointed her finger at the other. ‘Bring Taliesin to me!’

  Next was to tackle Mab who was sitting in a crumpled heap, head bowed in the middle of the clearing. Gently kneeling beside her, Awel placed a tentative arm around Mab’s shoulders. ‘We are running out of time my Queen. You must prepare your Pride.’ Awel’s voice was soft and gentle, a shelter in the coming storm.

  Mab slowly raised her head. Soft lines had appeared on her face, etching crow’s feet at her eyes and deepening the lines around her mouth. She wiped a solitary tear from her cheek and sighed before slowly getting to her feet. ‘I need a moment, Awel,’ she said, fondly squeezing Awel’s arm in thanks. ‘Go on ahead, they will be already gathering.’

  Awel nodded, patting Mab’s forearm reassuringly. ‘If I were you I would take time to set my crown upon my brushed hair, maybe even change into a dress befitting my station before I joined the gathering …’

  Mab let out a small chuckle. ‘Oh don’t worry,’ she replied, ‘I will remind everyone who is Queen, including Aeron if I must.’ Squaring her shoulders, Mab left the clearing with regal bearing and slipped from sight.

  Awel was left alone to ponder for a brief moment before Taliesin skidded to a halt in front of her, panting and flushed. More like a puppy than a grown man, she mused. ‘Well,’ she said with a raised eyebrow, ‘I suppose you will finally be leaving us.’

  Taliesin’s face belied his words. ‘I look forward to seeing my father once again.’

  ‘Of course you do.’ Awel endured the lie and continued. ‘But your mother must speak with you before you depart. She hadn’t anticipated you leaving so soon. Come with me to address the Pride and then we will go to your mother.’

  They made their way together following the path that led to a shaded hollow among the trees. The dozens of lanterns swinging idly from emerald branches that formed the roof had already been lit, the orange glow from the central fire pit flickered and danced, white smoke twined up through the gap in the canopy into the dusky sky above.

  Fifteen anxious faces greeted them as they entered the hollow and a hush fell over the gathering as Awel began to speak:

  ‘My fellow Bwy Hir, my Pride, my sisters of the Summer Realm, I give you thanks for your prompt attendance … As you all know, the Winter King has sounded the call to our brothers.’ There was a murmur of unrest at these words but Awel motioned them to quiet before she continued. ‘We are all surprised by Aeron’s early actions, but despite his impertinence, the Solstice is fast approaching and we must be prepared.’ Awel stole a sideways glance at Taliesin who stood quietly at her side; hopefully he would repeat her words to Aeron verbatim. There were giggles and whispering through the gathered Pride at her jibe at Aeron and she smiled. ‘Your Queen will join us presently, but while we wait she has bidden us to eat, drink and celebrate another successful reign.’ A cheer went up and she closed her speech.

  Somewhere in the hollow a flute sprang to life and was quickly accompanied by the beat of a Bodhran. As the merriments began she accompanied Taliesin to his mother’s pavilion. The grand silk tent was held aloft by stout hazel poles braced with barley coloured ropes and staked into the ground with copper pickets. His mother’s richly embroidered tent was the biggest of the Pride’s and placed slightly apart from the rest to safeguard her privacy.

  Taliesin presumed the lightly scented climbing roses and creeping ivy decorating the guy ropes were his mother’s doing, as were the night scented stock nestled around the base. The thorn bushes surrounding the tent on three sides were definitely Awel’s contribution.

  As they neared the entrance of the pavilion they could hear Mab’s doleful voice singing a lament to all living things that must soon pass away with the fall of Summer. Awel gently brought Taliesin to a halt outside until his mother had finished the refrain, only then did they enter the antechamber.

  ‘I have Taliesin with me,’ Awel called through the curtain leading to his mother’s bedchamber.

  ‘I know,’ replied Mab, as she pulled back the curtain and invited them into her chamber. Kissing her son on both cheeks she motioned for them to sit on the silk trimmed cushions scattered around a low mahogany table.

  They marvelled at her transformation. She wore an amber flowing gown, the bodice laced with gold and studded with tiny golden stars, over her shoulders was an ermine trimmed cloak with an embroidered sun emblazoned on the back, woven through her golden tresses were perfectly formed tiny dewy yellow roses, and a thick twisted gold torc befitting her status graced her neck. Mab looked resplendent.

  ‘You’ve come to say goodbye?’ Mab pouted at her son.

  ‘Only until we are reunited come Spring,’ replied her son, with a lump in his throat.

  ‘Early Spring!’ quipped Awel, in an attempt to break the mawkish mood. ‘Let’s see how Aeron likes his reign cut short.’

  ‘I will slumber soon my son, once the Solstice is complete, and there will be no time to say our farewells during the gathering.’ Mab smiled sadly at her son. ‘But before you go with my blessing know that I will watch over you in my dreams, as always.’ Mab sat down gracefully next to her son. ‘There is one thing I must know before you leave … how did you do it?’

  Taliesin almost missed the question. His mother had slipped it so cleanly into the conversation he didn’t have time to think of an evading answer. He stuttered and balked, blushed and stammered until Awel lost her patience.
‘Oh come on now, Tali!” she blustered in her usual gruff manner. ‘You are Bwy Hir! Just tell us how you managed to treat your impotency.’

  Taliesin’s jaw dropped open before trying to spring to his feet. Awel and Mab had neatly wedged him between them and pulled him back into his seat.

  ‘You will answer me, Taliesin,’ his mother warned. ‘Now, how did you do it? Did you steal the ateb from the Druids?’

  ‘I did not!’ he replied. They waited eagle-like for him to continue. ‘I made my own.’

  Both women descended on him, demanding in unison, ‘How?’

  Taliesin rolled the words around his head deciding where to start. ‘I studied hard all through last Winter,’ he began, ‘I practically lived in the Great Library when not attending lessons with that relentless Druid Madog. So many tomes hinted and suggested at so many meanings, and with trial and error, mishap and mistake I finally stumbled upon a concoction that worked …’

  ‘How?’ they shrieked. ‘What are its ingredients?’

  ‘Um, mistletoe and goatsweed are the two main components.’

  ‘Horny old goat weed?’ queried Awel excitedly.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied, feeling them pressing closer to either side of him. ‘Hemlock, dwale and lovage in lesser quantities, belladonna …’

  ‘How is it bound, Tali?’ His mother’s voice was hushed.

  Taliesin swallowed. ‘… blood,’ he whispered.

  Awel threw herself back amongst the cushions in disbelief.

  ‘What kind of blood?’ Mab’s voice had an edge of danger to it.

  ‘No, No!’ he exclaimed. ‘Not Human, not even Druid – I would not break the covenant!’

  An audible sigh of relief escaped from Awel before she knitted her brows in confusion. ‘Whose blood was it then? Oh no, you didn’t use an animal did you?’

  But Mab did not have to wait for the answer, she already knew. ‘You used a Druid hound, didn’t you? You used the Helgi?’