The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy

by Lowri Thomas

  ‘Who the hell are you?’ Anwen asked bluntly from the hallway, her head tilted to one side.

  ‘Dear me. You must be Anwen. I am your Great Aunt Nerys, you may address me as Aunt Nerys and I shall be staying here for a while.’

  ‘First I’ve heard of it.’ Anwen asked suspiciously, ‘Who said you could have this room?’

  ‘My, how you’ve grown, Anwen.’ Nerys words were honey coated. ‘I remember when you were just a little girl, a bit awkward and certainly not the prettiest child, but you were at least polite.’

  Anwen’s eyes couldn’t have got any wider. How dare she? ‘We’ll see about this!’ She threw herself past Gwyn and ran off to find her father. Gwyn was nonplussed, standing motionless at the top of the stairs. ‘Would you like to flounce down the stairs like a spoilt child too?’ Nerys asked civilly. ‘Or have you learned better?’

  Gwyn stammered noncommittal gibberish before bolting down the stairs to catch up with his sister. With a smug grin, Nerys casually swung her door closed, humming to herself as she unpacked.

  ‘Dad!’ yelled Anwen as she flounced out of the house followed closely by Gwyn with Bara bringing up the rear.

  ‘Now, Anwen,’ Dafydd braced himself, ‘there is nothing I can do. Nerys is family and she’s staying until, well until she goes, there’s no use mewling about it, what’s done is done and she’s staying,’ he said in a rush.

  ‘But, Dad!’ Anwen whined.

  ‘But, nothing.’ Dafydd pulled himself up to his full height and folded his arms.

  ‘Fine,’ Anwen hissed, ‘she can stay, but she better stay out of my way!’ Turning on her heels she stormed back into the house slamming the door behind her.

  ‘Again, you have my condolences,’ said Dai solemnly. ‘I expect I’ll be seeing you more often in the pub?’

  ‘Shhhh!’ hissed Dafydd. ‘That Nerys has the ears of a bat, don’t be mentioning the pub.’

  ‘Oh,’ Dai said, ‘so that’s why she wears her hair all puffed up like that.’ They all burst out laughing, shushing each other and stifling giggles.

  ‘So, in one door and out the other,’ Nerys said to herself, as she watched Anwen through the bedroom window dashing through the fields away from the house. Little minx, she thought, just like her mother.

  The thought of Anwen’s mother brought with it a wave of grief, how Nerys missed Emily so. The two of them had become steadfast friends from the first time they met, despite the age gap, an unlikely duo who had spent many an evening gossiping and giggling over a bottle of wine at the farm.

  Nerys had been a frequent visitor to Ty Mawr back when her sister still ruled the roost and Dafydd and Emily had newly married, Emily joining the family and moving in to start her new life on the farm. The old house used to be full of laughter, neighbours bustling in and out, farmhands rushing to and fro; a hive of activity.

  Those days are gone, Nerys chided herself, the dead don’t come back. First to pass was her sister, so suddenly that no-one saw it coming, a sudden heart attack had killed her outright and that was that, she was gone. Nerys had heard the terrible news for a farmhand sent to fetch her and had stayed at Ty Mawr until after the funeral, watching her brother-in-law as he faded, refusing to eat or even leave the house. She and Emily had done everything they could to console the grief stricken man and encourage him to eat or at least sleep, but no-one can keep a body alive whose spirit is dead and longing for the next life, so Nerys had once again been summoned to Ty Mawr Farm for yet another funeral.

  The only good news that year was the announcement of Dafydd’s and Emily’s first child. Emily was pregnant and had waited until after the second funeral to share her revelation. Dafydd was thrilled, as was Nerys. Ty Mawr had become hollow and vacant with only the two of them living there and the pitter-patter of tiny feet would once again bring the old house to life.

  Emily went into labour shortly after the New Year. The midwife was called, as was Nerys, and after much toil a pink and healthy baby boy was brought into the world, wailing the moment he arrived.

  Dafydd was thrilled, he had a healthy son and his wife had come through the birth unscathed. The old farm was brought to life once more and Nerys was again a frequent visitor and witnessed Gwyn’s first steps, his first bout of measles and his first ride on a tractor nestled in the strong arms of his father as they laughed and whooped bouncing along the fields together.

  When Gwyn was nearly five, the announcement of the second child was celebrated at the farm. Gwyn couldn’t have been less bothered and was far more interested in the arrival of the spring lambs. The whole farm rallied during this busy time, hiring in extra farmhands to replace the ones that had been let go when Dafydd’s father had died. Even Nerys joined in helping wherever she was needed and had stayed at the farm well into the Summer.

  Come Winter the weather took a nasty turn for the worst; gales and flooding battered the valley, followed by hail, sleet and snow. Vicious frosts stalked the night, crusting the snow already blanketing the fields, making the feeding of the sheep and cattle a constant battle. Emily was nearly at full term and had asked Nerys to return to stay at the farm and help with looking after Gwyn as Emily felt so unwell.

  When Nerys arrived she had been shocked at how poorly Emily had looked. Her skin was pale, there were dark circles under her eyes and an ugly swollen cold sore disfigured her bottom lip. Nerys was worried and the doctor was called.

  ‘She needs to eat more red meat and get plenty of rest,’ said the dismissive doctor as he listened to the baby’s heartbeat through an ear trumpet before declaring “all was well” and departing, but Nerys had a feeling the doctor was wrong.

  Dafydd fussed around his ailing wife, plumping her pillow and checking in between his work on the farm while Nerys took care of the boy and the housework, cooking and cleaning between walking Gwyn to and from school wrapped up in their warmest clothes.

  Emily’s condition improved only slightly, she was still pale and tired and so they all were relieved when early Spring finally arrived, melting the snow and bringing life back to the land and making the call to the midwife a less worrisome task, at least she would now be able to reach the farm. Emily had reached full term, her swollen belly making her waddle as she went from room to room preparing her nest.

  Emily’s waters broke early one Spring morning and she took to her bed. The midwife was called immediately and they all presumed the labour would be quick with this being her second. They were wrong.

  Hour after terrible hour Emily battled, sweating and screaming as she fought. Dafydd and Gwyn waited fearfully downstairs as Nerys and the midwife urged Emily on. By late afternoon Emily was nearing exhaustion and Nerys went downstairs to advise Dafydd of the situation that was becoming increasingly dire. Dafydd received the news numbly before snatching his cap and flying through the door into the onset of evening.

  He was gone less than an hour and returned demanding that the midwife leave immediately. He bundled her out of the house and ordered Nerys to take Gwyn into the kitchen and stay there until he called. Nerys was outraged and fought Dafydd tooth and nail while he practically carried her and a tiny Gwyn into the kitchen before slamming the door. Nerys was incensed; he had obviously lost his mind. What the hell did he think he was doing?

  Nerys could hear Emily’s painful cries, Dafydd’s low voice, and another? Could she hear someone else? Gwyn began to bawl and Nerys cuddled him until he was mollified. It had gone quiet upstairs and Nerys let her tears fall too.

  Suddenly a thin wail pierced the silence, the child had been born! Nerys ran to the door and threw it open, racing up the stairs two at a time with Gwyn clambering behind her. She burst into the bedroom and met a scene that will be etched in her memory forever: Emily was sitting up in bed nursing her baby to her breast, her cheeks were rosy and Nerys had never seen her look more beautiful. Dafydd was kneeling at the bedside looking relieved and content. Gwyn slipped past Nerys’ legs and joined his family at the bedside peering at the new arrival
. Nerys had never seen a more perfect picture.

  ‘Come and greet your great niece, Nerys, we’ve named her Anwen.’ Emily beckoned her over. She tiptoed over and stared at the tiny little girl nestled in Emily’s arms. She was small and wrinkly with a few wisps of red hair stuck slick to her precious head.

  ‘I thought we’d lose you both!’ Nerys suddenly sobbed.

  ‘We were safe once Dafydd took over.’ Emily’s eyes were calm, almost serene. ‘Dafydd has delivered far more souls into this world than that midwife ever has … he saved our lives, Nerys.’

  Only Emily’s life hadn’t been saved, just prolonged. She died a few days later still holding her tiny daughter in her arms. Nerys’ heart broke that night and never truly mended, she stayed at Ty Mawr for the funeral and until Anwen was feeding properly and sleeping through the night, she left and hadn’t returned until now.

  Nerys roused herself from her reminiscing and scolded herself for not returning sooner. The damn girl was almost feral. She set about putting the rest of her belongings in place before she went down to the kitchen to prepare a nice casserole for the evening meal. She deliberately rearranged the cupboards and reshuffled the spices huddled in their rack. Anwen would soon learn that when it came to being obstinate Nerys was way out of her league. Anwen would need to submit to Nerys sooner rather than later; struggling would only prolong the misery.

  Nerys tasted the rich meaty sauce with a teaspoon, added a bit more pepper and returned the pot to the oven. She would give Anwen another hour and then go and find her herself, dragging her back if necessary. She could not afford to upset Dafydd too much and risk being thrown out of the house all because of a cosseted little minx. I’m getting too old for this, she thought to herself and she prepared another tray of tea to take outside to keep the men out of the house until Anwen returned or was fetched. Nerys pursed her lips as she slammed the teapot lid into place.

  Judging an hour had passed Nerys checked on the men through the kitchen window and made to sneak out of the front door in search of Anwen. As her fist clenched the handle she felt the door push inwards and Anwen barged her way through. They eyed each other for a moment, before Anwen caught the smell of cooking and with a hiss, stormed upstairs and slammed her bedroom door shut.

  Nerys sighed and closed the front door. Smoothing her dress over her hips she slowly climbed the stairs and slipped into Anwen’s bedroom, closing the door silently behind her.

  ‘Get out of my room!’ Anwen screeched from behind the pillow she hugged in her lap as she wriggled on her bed. ‘You’ve no right being in my room! You’ve got no right to be in my kitchen either.’

  Nerys raised a single eyebrow at the tirade and then plonked herself down on the edge of her bed. Anwen was livid.

  ‘Firstly madam,’ Nerys began quietly and calmly, ‘if you choose to vanish from the house without telling anyone where you’re going or when you’ll be back, how can anyone know whether you will be returning to prepare a meal. Secondly, it is not your kitchen, it is your father’s and then it will be Gwyn’s, it will never be yours. Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, you need to consider why I am in this house and who requested my presence … little girls who play with fire often get burnt.’

  Nerys waited until she was sure Anwen didn’t intend to answer back and then she hauled her considerable bulk off the bed and left as silently as she’d arrived, leaving Anwen to ponder her words.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ‘It is time,’ announced Awel, as she entered Mab’s pavilion dragging her ceremonial staff behind her. ‘We are gathering at the Cerdd Carega, the Tylwyth Teg carry the Chronicles to surrender to the Host.’

  ‘Host,’ scoffed Mab, ‘they are a Decagon! Long gone are the ages they could have been named Host. We are diminishing Awel. I can see an age when the Bwy Hir will no longer roam these lands.’

  ‘Do not speak so!’ Awel snapped. ‘The Bwy Hir will endure. I too felt the same as you, but that was before. Taliesin has brought us new hope.’

  ‘It’s a slim hope, Awel. What would you have us do? Poison all the pregnant Chosen with our blood, use their bodies as hosts to breed Halfling women capable of carrying Bwy Hir seed? Or do you believe Taliesin’s ateb can replace the Druids’ brew and help us sire more children of our own?’ Mab’s questions demanded answers.

  ‘I would not have the Chosen used so, Mab, you know me better than that. I worry the Chosen are dwindling as swiftly as we are.’

  Awel thought that someone or something was slowly killing off the Chosen. Too many deaths in recent years had plagued the Chosen. Many of the Chosen’s women had suffered untimely deaths. She couldn’t prove it but she suspected the Druids’ hands in it somewhere. ‘But what if Tali’s ateb is a better one? What if the Druids’ vile brew had something in it to cause our seeds to fail? What if Tali’s ateb does not cause the violence the Druids’ one does? What if Tali’s ateb actually works and we could cut one more Druid bond?’

  ‘What if, what if!’ Mab retorted, ‘what if it doesn’t work at all?’

  ‘It worked for Taliesin,’ Awel pressed.

  ‘Taliesin is not yet full grown. What if it doesn’t work on the fully matured? Taliesin hasn’t even gained his height yet, never mind his powers,’ Mab pointed out.

  ‘But what if it does?’ crooned Awel. ‘What if it does?’

  ‘And how do you propose we find out?’

  ‘Gwrnach could be persuaded to put it to the test, I know that Oli would be more than willing to offer her services too, she has a soft spot for Gwrnach and it has been a long time since she was chosen to couple at the Solstice.’

  ‘There is good reason for that, Awel!’ Mab pointed out, ‘Oli is rarely sober!’

  ‘Perfect, then should she spill the beans on our little experiment, all will think it's just drunken rambling.’ Awel grinned.

  ‘And you sure you can persuade Gwrnach? You can trust his discretion?’ Mab was warming to the idea.

  ‘Gwrnach will hold his tongue. If the ateb works we can reveal it to the others. If Oli actually becomes pregnant, well, it would change everything.’

  ‘Come.’ Mab grabbed her cloak. ‘The Host awaits, let the Bwy Hir unite … and Awel, see to our plan. I would have this trial over and done with this very night.’

  They both left the pavilion and made their way to the Cerdd Carega to join the rest of the Pride. ‘Pray this works Awel, for the sake of all,’ Mab whispered.

  ‘To whom, Mab? Our prayers do not reach the ears of heaven. But I will keep my fingers crossed and my hopes high for the sake of all except the Druids. To bring them down would be a blessing beyond measure.’

  The Pride parted as Mab and Awel approached the Cerdd Carega. Mab took her place at the head of the assembly as Awel approached the centre stone, raising her staff to touch the spiral with its tip. The stone sprang into life, the white-blue spiral pulsing with energy. A lone Tylwyth Teg came forward lifting a curled horn to his lips and blew a perfect single note, a twin horn sounded in reply from within the Cerdd Carega and the Pride began their procession, disappearing one by one to meet their counterparts at Mynydd y Gelli, the sacred meeting place of the Bwy Hir.

  One by one the Bwy Hir entered the ring of ancient stones adorning the grassy windswept hilltop, silently taking their rightful places within the stones until all had entered and the portals closed. Members of the Pride outnumbered those of the Host as they stood facing each other in a ring with Mab and Aeron standing opposite each other in the centre.

  ‘We have come! We have come!’ Mab Rhedyn, Queen of the Summer Realm’s voice echoed through the vale. ‘Let the mountains quake and the seas recoil, the Pride is come.’

  ‘We have come! We have come!’ Aeron Ddu, King of the Winter Realm intoned with a strong deep voice. ‘Let the lightning strike and thunder crash, the Host is come.’

  ‘We have come!’ all the Bwy Hir called in unison. Once the incantation was complete the assembly relaxed and moved forward to greet each othe
r.

  ‘And so ends the sway of Summer,’ Mab intoned, as she presented the Chronicles to her opposite.

  ‘Let every leaf and stone, beast and fowl, fish and crawling creature bear witness to the advent of Autumn.’ Aeron reverently took the leather bound tome and bowed solemnly.

  ‘Let us come together, Pride and Host to swear our steadfastness to the Covenant.’ King and Queen spoke as one.

  The Bwy Hir recited the covenant together:

  ‘We adhere to the command of the Alpha and Omega:

  Thou shalt not spill the blood of my children.

  So we have obeyed.

  Thou shall not cross the shallowest of seas.

  So we have obeyed.

  Thou shalt not suffer the creation of any living creatures accept at my hand.

  So we have obeyed.

  Thou shall not seek out the devil or his foul minions; there is but one God.

  So we have obeyed.

  Thou shalt not seek the gates of heaven; this way is barred to the Nephilim.

  So we have obeyed.’

  Their solemn voices echoed through the valley and died upon the wind, leaving silence in its wake.

  ‘And so the Bwy Hir stand fast.’ Aeron’s eyes sparkled like beacons in the darkening sky. ‘Until we are absolved of our father’s sins … Let us now rejoice at the reunion of the Bwy Hir, long may we reign!’

  ‘Amen,’ they shouted in unison as they broke from their positions and came together in greeting, a chattering of salutations filled the circle. The Bwy Hir were one again.

  The preamble of these greetings was an important element of the Bwy Hir society: friendships rekindled, alliances re-forged and objectives established. Awel made a beeline towards Gwrnach, taking his elbow and steering him towards a quiet corner while Mab entertained her King and eternal mate.

  There was no such thing as true love among the Bwy Hir. They mated, the King and Queen would mate for life, the others were free to choose at each Solstice, not immediate brother and sister, but other than that close bond, they were free to choose whomever they wished, but there was no love involved in coupling, only the desperate need to reproduce.