The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy

by Lowri Thomas

  Elder Tomas and the physician both nodded their heads. ‘Lord Cadno, should I watch Afagddu?’ asked Elder Thomas.

  ‘Like a hawk,’ Cadno replied, as he left the infirmary hiding his devious smile. ‘Oh, and Elder Tomas, see there is a full inventory of the Kennels. I want every Helgi and Seeker accounted for.’

  Cadno stalked the Halls of the Druid ready to put the next part of his plan into action, and for that he needed Taliesin. The Halls were quieter now, the missing Chosen had been found, the missing women would not demand as much attention as one of the Chosen and so the Halls had returned to the normal air of calm.

  Where was Taliesin? Cadno had paced the Halls from top to bottom, searched every nook and cranny, but Taliesin could not be found. The only place left unchecked was Aeron’s chambers. Cadno did not relish a visit with the king; Aeron had now reached his full strength and was more volatile than ever. Cadno could wait, at least for the time being, there were still a few days left.

  ‘Ho, Cadno!’ Gwrnach’s voice echoed through the halls. Cadno spun on his heels and smiled as his brother approached.

  ‘Gwrnach.’ Cadno grinned. ‘Finally, I have found someone to while away this late hour. Will you join me for a drink, maybe a game of gwyddbwyll?’

  ‘I have no interest in board games, nor any game that involves you as an opponent Cadno, but a cold glass of ale, now that sounds promising.’ Gwrnach’s eye sparkled with mirth as he clapped Cadno on his shoulder.

  ‘Good, then let us be about it.’ Cadno fell in step with Gwrnach as they headed to the Bwy Hir chambers. ‘Have you seen Taliesin, mayhap he would like to join us?’

  ‘He is cosseted with his father, I think Aeron is training him to wind cast.’ Gwrnach squinted. ‘Since when have you taken any interest in Taliesin?’

  Cadno shrugged his shoulders. ‘He is older now, more fun. I reckon he will blossom soon, and then I will have another ally to make merry with and get into all kinds of trouble.’ A grin split his face. ‘You lot are all getting old and boring, I need a new comrade, one who hasn’t learned not to play games with me!’ Their laughter filled the stairwell that led to upper hallways, Cadno kept a sharp eye out for any sign of Taliesin.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  Gwyn squirmed in the chair the nurse had brought for him. It was hard plastic and no matter which way he shifted, he could not find a comfortable position. He finally gave up and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at the still form of this father.

  Dafydd was stretched out on the metal framed bed, his arms resting on the white folded sheets, the green blankets tucked neatly under the white linen pulled up to his chest. A white pillow propped his head, a plastic wristband circled his left wrist, a faded hospital nightgown covered his shoulders and vanished beneath the covers.

  Bryn Wisgi was sitting in a much more comfortable chair on the opposite side of the bed. His eyes kept drifting open and closed, his head would loll to one side before jerking upright and repeating the circle, loll, jerk, loll, jerk.

  ‘Go home if you want,’ Gwyn said for the third time, ‘I’m here now, we’ll be okay.’

  Bryn’s head jerked upright again. ‘No, no, I’ll stay for a bit, anyway, I could do with a lift back. I’ll wait until you’re ready and go back with you.’

  ‘I might be a while. You look knackered,’ Gwyn pressed.

  ‘I’m no more knackered than you, Gwyn. No, I’ll stay a while. The nurse said the doctor would be here soon with some of the results, so I best wait with you, eh.’

  Gwyn shrugged and returned to staring at his father. He wished Bryn would just go home and leave them alone. Was Bryn being a good friend and neighbour, or was he keeping watch for the Chosen or Druids? Gwyn flicked a quick look at Bryn from the corner of his eye. Loll, jerk, loll, jerk. Gwyn scowled.

  ‘Mr Morgan?’ A brisk nurse approached the bed and began to draw the curtains. ‘The doctor will visit your father now. Could I ask you both to step out for a moment?’

  Both men stood up and shuffled outside the curtains. They stood outside the barrier of green cotton, studying their feet, their hands stuffed in their pockets. A mature man in a white coat nodded at them as he slipped inside the curtains. Gwyn strained to hear what was going on, what was being said, and as he leaned towards the curtains to eavesdrop, the nurse pulled back a part of the curtain and practically touched noses with a startled Gwyn. ‘Oh,’ the nurse started, ‘um, the doctor will speak with you now.’ She held the curtain back for Gwyn to enter, closing it again to bar Bryn.

  ‘Hello, I’m Doctor Wilson.’ They shook hands briefly, ‘Well, where do I begin?’ The doctor scratched his head and consulted the clipboard the nurse passed him. ‘We’ve x-rayed your father’s skull and I’m happy to say there is no sign of trauma, no indication of an epidural hematoma, no clotting or tumours, his brain and skull look perfectly healthy. His blood pressure and heart rate are normal. There is a small bruise on his collarbone, but nothing major. Blood tests are fine too … in short, your father is in some sort of coma, but we don’t know why.’

  Gwyn stared blankly at the doctor before blurting, ‘So, what the hell’s the matter with him then?’ The nurse frowned, but the doctor smiled. ‘Good question … we don’t know. He seems to be just asleep, it’s very strange. The only sign of any significant trauma on his body is an old scar on his chest. Do you know how he came by it?’

  Gwyn shook his head and absently rubbed his own chest. ‘No. I mean I’ve seen it, but I don’t know how he got it. It’s always been there. I don’t know.’

  ‘No matter, I was just curious.’ He handed back the clipboard to the nurse. ‘We’ll keep him under observation, see how he progresses before we do anything further, but the sooner he wakes the better.’ They shook hands again and the doctor moved to his next patient. The nurse pulled back the curtains after making sure Dafydd was tucked in and then followed the doctor on his rounds.

  ‘Do they know what’s wrong with him?’ Bryn inquired, although he must already have known the answer as the curtain wasn’t made of soundproof steel.

  ‘Nope.’ Gwyn took the seat Bryn had occupied before and leaned back in the comfy padding. Bryn reluctantly took the plastic chair and sat down awkwardly. They both watched Dafydd, they both watched each other and the silence stretched before Gwyn leaned over and whispered, ‘Did they do it, Bryn?’

  ‘Who?’ Bryn mirrored Gwyn’s actions, leaning over the bed to meet over Dafydd’s legs. ‘You mean …’ Bryn looked around to make sure they could not be overheard, ‘you mean the Druids, or the Bwy Hir?’

  ‘Yes,’ Gwyn whispered, checking over his shoulder. Bryn leaned in further, his voice barely audible. His eyes were serious and dark. ‘Be very careful, my lad, about what comes out of your mouth at the moment. Your father can’t school you in the ways of the Chosen, not until he’s on his feet, so take some advice from a brother who knows their ways: What you just suggested is enough to get your family pronounced Gwaradwyddedig: Shamed. You will be excommunicated, your lands given over to your neighbours, no-one will deal with you, no-one will stand beside you, you would be on your own, an outcast in your own community. Think before you speak, Gwyn.’

  Gwyn’s face drew down in a stubborn sneer. ‘The way I’m feeling right now, Bryn, I couldn’t care less if they released me from my vows and had nothing to do with us ever again.’

  Bryn shook his head. ‘You don’t understand, boy. They will never be finished with you. You don’t walk away from the Triskele. They can be your greatest ally or your worst foe, but you can never be done with them … not ever.’

  They leaned back in unison. Bryn shook his head once more and then turned his attention to watching Dafydd for any sign of improvement. Gwyn’s sneer had been replaced with a worried frown, he felt adrift in a torrent of confusion, but above all he felt lonely, he needed his family, he needed his dad whole and Anwen back home, safe and sound, he even needed Nerys, he would happily accept as many smacks around the
head with a tea towel if Nerys would just walk in the hospital right now and take control. He turned in his chair and watched the nurses coming in and out of the ward but Nerys wasn’t among them, and neither was Anwen.

  Gwyn leaned forward again. ‘Don’t you think it’s a little bit strange though? All this going on–’ A change in Bryn’s body language cut off Gwyn’s speech; someone Bryn recognised just entered the ward and Gwyn spun to see who it was.

  ‘Any news?’ Dai Jones stepped up to Dafydd’s bed with a bunch of grapes tucked under his arm. He looked tired but Gwyn noticed he’d changed his clothes and was clean shaven. Gwyn rubbed his own stubbled chin.

  ‘No change,’ Bryn answered, ‘he’s still out for the count.’

  ‘How are you doing?’ Dai patted Gwyn’s shoulder and passed the grapes over, flicking his gaze between Dafydd and Bryn.

  ‘Any news on Anwen and Nerys?’ Gwyn asked hopefully and Dai shook his head. ‘We’re still looking for them, at least the village men are, the Druids will start again at dusk, but there is no sign, Gwyn. It’s like they’ve vanished into thin air …’

  ‘Dai, don’t you think–?’ Gwyn started but was cut off by Bryn.

  ‘I told you, boy, we don’t think anything.’

  Dai raised his eyebrows, something had obviously passed between them, Bryn was unusually gruff and Gwyn looked ready to explode.

  ‘Uh, excuse me,’ said the nurse, as she entered the ward carrying a bedpan and a box of tissues, ‘only two visitors per bed please.’ She stood and waited, impatient to be about her business.

  ‘Right then, Bryn, off home with you.’ Dai waved Bryn out of his seat and passed him his car keys. ‘Take my Land Rover back with you and I’ll cadge a lift with Gwyn when he’s ready.’

  ‘Right-oh.’ Bryn shook hands with Dai and fixed Gwyn with a stern look before he left. ‘Phone me if there’s any change, will you?’

  ‘Same to you. Get a message to us when the girls turn up.’ Dai watched him leave and waved at the nurse who, once satisfied, pulled a curtain around the only other patient sharing the ward. There were four beds in total, but only two were occupied, affording a little privacy to speak openly, if only in whispers.

  ‘Has a doctor seen him?’ Dai nodded his head towards Dafydd.

  ‘Yes, they say they don’t know what’s wrong with him … Will he be alright, Dai?’ Gwyn looked lost.

  ‘Your father is a strong as an ox, he’ll be fine. The lazy bugger’s just having a rest, that’s all.’ Dai smiled reassuringly and Gwyn was glad Dai was with him.

  ‘Tell you what, Gwyn, how about I go and grab us a cup of tea and then you can tell me what’s on your mind?’ Dai waited for Gwyn’s nod and then stood up, jangling loose change in his trouser pockets. ‘Oh, and you can bloody well swap that chair I’m sitting on, go and swap it with another comfy chair like yours. I’m not numbing my arse on that thing.’

  Gwyn smiled and did as he was told. He did it as quietly as possible as he didn’t want a telling off from the nurse who was still hidden behind the curtain at the other end of the room. Dai returned, handed Gwyn a plastic cup and sat down, grateful for the extra padding.

  ‘So, then,’ Dai said between sips, ‘what’s on your mind?’

  ‘Anwen and Nerys are on my mind.’ Gwyn leaned over Dafydd and dropped his voice, ‘None of it makes sense, Dai, none of it. They wouldn’t just bugger off, not when Dad was still missing. Something’s happened to them.’

  ‘Like what?’ Dai focused on his tea.

  ‘I don’t bloody know!’ Gwyn hissed. ‘I left ‘em safe and sound in the house, they locked the door behind me when I left. I come back, doors wide open and they’ve vanished. It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘So where do you think they are, then?’

  ‘I don’t bloody know!’ Gwyn raised his voice and Dai raised an eyebrow. Gwyn swallowed and lowered his voice, ‘Something’s happened to them, they wouldn’t just leave. No way.’

  Dai kept his eyes on his tea and let the silence stretch. Gwyn sipped at his cup, frustrated and indignant. Dafydd’s steady breathing filled the void between the two men.

  ‘Did you talk this way with Bryn-Wisgi?’ Dai spoke over his cup, low and calm, but his body looked taught.

  ‘No, I just asked him whether he thought the, you know, whether they could have anything to do with it. He got all huffy and told me to be careful I wasn’t called Gwaradwyddedig.’

  Dai put his cup down on the floor and leaned back in his chair. ‘And he’d be right. You’d be a fool to call suspicion onto anybody without proof.’ Dai inhaled before speaking again and when he did he looked intently into Gwyn’s eyes. ‘I’ll admit things aren’t stacking up right, but,’ he said, lifting a finger in the air, ‘there’s nothing to suggest anything’s amiss. Anwen and Nerys are probably going to turn up in a field somewhere, worse for wear, and probably with stinkin’ colds – you saw the weather last night, it was not fit to be out in. As for your dad, well, he can tell us what happened when he wakes up, and there’s no reason to think he won’t. So that leaves us nowhere, nothing amiss, nothing underhand going on, unless you know something you’re not telling me.’

  Gwyn dropped his head, breathing in time with his father. ‘All I know is that since I joined them, everything’s gone pear-shaped … something’s not right. Have you spoke with them Dai, have they said anything?’

  Dai pursed his lips and studied Gwyn a little longer. The boy was hiding something. ‘Yes, I’ve spoken with them. They are as perplexed as us, but saying that, they don’t often have anything to do with the women, so if something was going on, they wouldn’t likely know anything anyway. Women, at least our women, don’t form part of the Triskele.’

  ‘You mean the women, like your wife, Anwen, Nerys, they don’t know anything about it?’

  Dai chuckled, ‘They’re not supposed to. They pretend not to, but you can’t keep things hidden from a woman, not for too long. Let’s just say that there is a pretence that is played out in every Chosen home, and for the record, I pretend not to know that my wife, as did your mother, have a relationship of their own with some of the female Bwy Hir, but I don’t know anything about that, so I can’t comment.’

  ‘Did Anwen?’ Gwyn shuffled forward in his seat.

  ‘You tell me.’ Dai shrugged. ‘Although, probably not, she’s a bit young yet. She probably will when she’s nearer marrying age.’

  ‘Did Nerys?’

  ‘I don’t know, Gwyn, I told you. I don’t know anything about women’s business.’ Dai picked his tea back up and took a sip before announcing, ‘I need a pee, back in a minute.’ He hoisted himself off his chair and walked back towards the hallway.

  Gwyn put his own cup down and reached for his father’s hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze and whispered, ‘What do you want me to do, Dad?’

  Gwyn felt Dafydd’s hand tighten and release, and watched as his eyes began to flicker beneath their lids. ‘Dad?’ he whispered and gently squeezed his hand again.

  Dafydd’s lips moved and Gwyn stood up, not knowing whether to call a nurse or not. Dafydd murmured and Gwyn leaned in. ‘What? Dad, say it again?’

  Dafydd’s eyes remained closed, but he managed to whisper one word before he lapsed back into unconsciousness, ‘Awel.’

  Gwyn sat down heavily, still holding his father’s hand. Who was Awel? Did he mean Anwen? Gwyn racked his brain, but the name was unfamiliar. Perhaps Dai would know.

  Dai returned to his seat and noted Gwyn’s hand in his father’s. ‘Any change?’

  ‘No, still out cold.’ Gwyn leaned back and released his father’s hand. ‘Dai, who is Awel?’

  Dai raised a bushy eyebrow. ‘Awel Ddu, you mean?’ Gwyn guessed so and so he nodded. Dai leaned back into his chair and folded his ankles. He lowered his voice, ‘Awel Ddu or as we know her, Awel Chan-y-Bant, is sister to Aeron Ddu, The Winter King. She is well known to us in the Valley. She, more than the others has taken time to get to know us, as people, not just as
… well, you know.’

  Gwyn didn’t know. He had never been to a Solstice or joined the Harvest, he wasn’t sure what it entailed. Gwyn looked at his father again. Did he mean this Awel? Were there any others by that name? What did his father want him to do?

  ‘I’m no use here,’ Gwyn sighed, ‘I need to get home, help with finding Anwen and Nerys, feed the animals.’ Dai tipped his head to the side and watched Gwyn for a moment. ‘Sounds like a good idea. You can drop me off as you collect Bara, she’s at mine.’

  They made ready to leave. ‘Gwyn,’ Dai hesitated a moment, ‘if you were looking for Awel Chan-y-Bant, you’ll find her in the forest between our two lands. Go past the tree where we found your father and head into the forest. You’ll see a lone standing stone, that’s where you’ll find her, not that I know anything.’

  ‘Thanks, Dai. I mean, thanks for everything.’ Gwyn seemed embarrassed and Dai chuckled, cuffing him on the back of his head. ‘Daft sod,’ he said, ‘we’re friends and neighbours, aren’t we? Anyway, being here saved me having to listen to my wife droning on and on about our son’s bloody wedding. It’s ages away yet! Come on, let’s go rescue Bara, I bet my wife’s talked her ears off!’

  Gwyn smiled, a small smile that just creased one side of his mouth, but it was a start. Hopefully Dai was right, everything would turn out fine.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  Anwen had lost sight of the coast as she dropped down the hill into the lower fields, but she had a good sense of direction and knew exactly where she was heading.

  She was still wearing her sodden church shoes and they were rubbing mercilessly against her heels and little toes. She’d thought about discarding them altogether but better to keep them, at least until she could replace them. She thought she would look ridiculous walking into the train station barefoot, if she got that far.

  Her feet hurt, the cuts on her legs stung, she was tired, tearful and hungry, the few berries she’d found had not satisfied her hunger and she craved for a bacon sandwich and a mug of tea. That thought sent a jolt of longing, she missed Ty Mawr and she missed her family.