by Lowri Thomas
Cadno wasn’t aware of that promise, but he did not consider himself Welsh so brushed the threat aside as he twisted his head. He couldn’t see her; she had positioned herself out of his line of sight. ‘I have left the Host. I am no longer part of the Triskele. I came to rekindle our friendship, so how are you faring, Atgas?’
‘Better than you.’ Again she sounded wary, cold and distant. ‘I do not have an arrow trained at my head.’
Cadno had been expecting a frosty welcome but he hadn’t expected Atgas to be this cold. He did however, have a back-up plan. ‘You have the arrow, I have the Helgi.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘You can’t kill all three of us before at least one of us reaches you.’
Atgas didn’t reply at first and when she did her voice came from another direction, this time it was dead ahead of him. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure, Cadno, I’ve had a long time to perfect my aim … what do you want?’
Cadno squinted into the trees but he still couldn’t place her and so he pretended to relax, leaning against a tree trunk in a nonchalant manner. ‘I’ve told you what I want, to rekindle our friendship. We used to be friends, didn’t we?’ His eyes flitted over every leaf, trying to pinpoint her.
‘Have you been declared Gwaradwyddedig, Cadno?’ Atgas drawled. ‘What did you do? Why did they banish you?’
It was Cadno’s turn to laugh. ‘I wasn’t banished or declared shamed, Atgas, I left of my own free will.’ He smiled into the darkness. ‘Although, if Aeron gets his hands on me, banishment would be the least of my worries.’ He leaned into the darkness and spread his arms wide. ‘Look, Atgas, I am getting cold, hungry and tired, I am going to light a fire right here and now – it is up to you whether you wish to join me and hear my tale, otherwise you can go, either way is fine with me.’ He waited and then snorted before summoning fire onto the logs he had already prepared.
He kept one eye on the Helgi, watching their reactions as they stared into the darkness, their ears twitching and swivelling. He fed more sticks into the fire and then leaned back, waiting. ‘The Triskele is failing, Atgas, we are all failing …’ There was no reply. ‘So, I have done what is needed to survive, I have left the Host.’ Silence. ‘Do you know how many Bwy Hir have been born since you left, Atgas?’ Nothing. ‘One,’ he shouted into the trees, ‘only one, but that is about to change, there is a new ateb, Atgas … Atgas?’
‘I am here.’ Atgas appeared before him, as beautiful as she always had been. Only one blemish marred her perfection, a scar that ran from the corner of her eye, across her temple and into the hairline above her left ear.
‘You no longer show the Triskele?’ Cadno asked as she stepped into the firelight.
‘I am no longer part of it.’ Atgas stayed standing. ‘Besides, Mab ensured her blade cut through it, it is a Triskele no longer, or it is a broken one.’
Cadno looked up at her. Her hair was raven black, as were her eyes. Her skin was as white as the first snows of winter. Her scar was evident on her beautiful face, it had healed but it was shot through will blue, typical scarring for the Bwy Hir and yet, despite the obvious injury, instead of defacing her beauty, it somehow enhanced it. Cadno marvelled at her exquisiteness. Aeron made a mistake when he chose Mab over Atgas. Cadno pursed his lips appreciatively. ‘You look more beautiful than ever.’
‘English blood suits me,’ she said, smiling wickedly, ‘as you will soon discover unless you have another supply?’
Cadno frowned – he had worried about this, it was his only stumbling block. ‘You still … take blood?’
Atgas threw her head back and laughed throatily and the Helgi growled. ‘I take nothing, Cadno. Everything I want is surrendered to me … everything.’ Her eyes glittered in the firelight. ‘I have carved myself a perfect niche here, Cadno.’ She licked her lips. ‘Will you share in the delights … or will you run back to the Triskele with your tail between your legs?’
Cadno shifted uncomfortably in his seat. There was something different about Atgas, her hair wasn’t the only difference, she no longer wore it in the Pride fashion, she had grown it out, thick, long and un-braided to spill around her face. No, the difference was in her eyes: they were wild, slightly savage, ferocious, and Cadno felt uneasy. ‘Surrendered?’ he asked cautiously. ‘You don’t have to take it or touch it? How do you absorb it?’ He poked the fire with a stick.
Atgas grinned. She looked vulpine in the firelight, something that had first drawn Cadno to her, it still enticed him, even now. ‘If you’re worried about your oaths you should have stayed with the Host.’ She leaned forward, showing her cleavage immodestly. ‘However, you need not worry,’ she said, as she traced her lower lip with her fingers, ‘I don’t drink blood anymore – there is no need. I don’t even see the donors, my blood is delivered fresh and cleaned of impurities and then injected directly into my veins by another’s hand.’ She leaned back with a smug, licentious smile.
‘How?’ Cadno sat upright – he was intrigued. ‘How is that possible? You have Druids?’ Cadno was aware that a small number of Druids deserted their ranks on occasion, but he never thought for a moment that they were gathering to Atgas.
Atgas shuddered. ‘I despise Druids, I have no need of them – any of them.’ She flicked her hair over her shoulder. ‘No, I have my own … cult. As equally as clever as any of your Druids, they are renowned and respected in the world of the Lost and they worship me. It is a most … agreeable agreement.’
‘Just like that?’ Cadno breathed out sceptically. ‘No bargains? No Ransoms? They just hand over their blood, no questions?’
‘There is an exchange, of course, I don’t expect anything for free.’ Atgas folded her arms beneath her breasts. ‘They give me their blood and I give them mine.’
‘What?’ Cadno shot to his feet. The Helgi got to their feet, sensing his concern. ‘Our blood is poisonous to Humans, Atgas!’
Atgas shook her head. ‘Not if administered in the correct quantity.’ She unfolded her arms and leaned forward. ‘It has taken a lot of trial and error, but given in the right quantity, the effect on Humans is quite astounding. Do you know our blood acts as a narcotic?’ Her eyes were wide, bright and intense. ‘And not only that, it is incredibly addictive.’
Cadno raised an eyebrow. ‘Our blood is of value to them?’ He was already plotting these new discoveries in his mind, making plans and filing them away, tying them to his own objectives, opening new possibilities that served his purposes.
A feline grin split Atgas’ mouth, her feral eyes sparkled. ‘You see, I have been very busy in my exile.’ She pursed her lips and considered him before saying, ‘Do you wish to share my boon, Cadno? What do you have to offer in return?’
Cadno smiled and took his seat. ‘So we are to Ransom, Atgas?’ She raised an eyebrow of her own and smiled. ‘Very well,’ he said, ‘I think what I bring you will be of interest.’
‘Helgi are of no interest to me.’ Atgas crossed her arms again.
‘I’m not offering them to you, the Helgi belong to me. ‘What I have here however,’ Cadno said, patting his rucksack, ‘will be of interest … I have two atebs.’
Atgas tipped her head to one side, her hair spilling across one side of her face. ‘You wish to mate with me, Cadno? Why? The ateb has never worked on me before?’
Cadno’s lips quirked. ‘But there is a new ateb now, Atgas, one that works, it even works with Helgi blood and not Human, hence my Helgi.’
Atgas’ eyes narrowed. ‘Who created this ateb? Why use Helgi blood instead of Human?’ She pursed her lips. ‘You only have two Helgi, Cadno, they will not last forever, what then?’
Cadno leaned back and stretched his legs, crossing them at the ankles, he felt smug and very pleased with himself. ‘I know how the transfiguration works … all I need is two Human women and then I have my own breeding pack of Helgi – an endless supply of Helgi. They will be my protection; bred to keep the other Bwy Hir away from me, that and to supply blood for the new ateb that works, Atgas – it works
!’
‘But you need me.’ Atgas watched Cadno, she had always been attracted to him, but she didn’t trust him, she’d never trusted him. ‘You need me to be willing to mate with you, to sire your child and supply the Human Solstice blood … what if I say no?’
Cadno shrugged his shoulders. ‘I have other plans if you do not want to create our own line of Bwy Hir – you as my queen of course … yes, I have other plans … it’s up to you, just give me a yes or no.’
This meeting had been unexpected and although the possibilities were enticing, Atgas had plans of her own, she had made a new life for herself in Caerlleon and she didn’t know how well Cadno would fit into it. ‘I need time to think, Cadno …’
‘This is a Ransom, Atgas, I need a yes or no and I need it now.’ His eyes were intent; all his plans wavered on her next words. Atgas and Cadno stared into each other’s eyes across the fire, both hiding their own thoughts and concerns. Will this work? Can we work together? Cadno thought. They stared for a few moments more until Atgas dropped her gaze to watch the fire spit and crackle. ‘I have spent a very long time alone, Cadno, I have rebuilt my life and it is a good life … what if the ateb doesn’t work?’
‘Then we go our separate ways with no hard feelings.’ Cadno feigned indifference but his heart was hammering in his chest. ‘What do we have to lose, Atgas? We are both exiles, this is a chance to create our own clan.’ He leaned forward.
Finally, Atgas stood and squared her shoulders. ‘This is my Ransom: we will stand together for four seasons and see how we fare – if either of us are dissatisfied after this time we will go our separate ways; you will leave Caerlleon and not return. I rule Caerlleon, Cadno, not you. We will try the new ateb and you will share the ingredients with me, and how the transfiguration works. I will supply you with Human blood for the Solstice and a roof over your head – the nights grow colder. This is my Ransom.’
Cadno stood up and came to stand in front of her. ‘The Helgi are mine, Atgas, and remain mine. Other than that, I agree.’ He held out his right arm and they each sealed their pact by clasping each other’s forearm. ‘Done,’ they said in unison.
CHAPTER TEN
Dafydd was glad to be home. He sat on the sofa as Gwyn fussed about making tea and preparing the fire. Dai Jones sat in the chair next to the fire looking tired but relieved to have his friend back. Bryn-Wisgi sat on the opposite chair with a glass of Penderyn single malt, his second of the evening and it was not yet six o’clock, although it had already grown dark outside and a bitter frost was threatening to descend upon the valley.
Gwyn brought a tray in and set it on the small side table, he handed mugs to Dafydd and Dai and took one for himself; Bryn was happy with his whiskey. Bara was sprawled out in front of the fire with her head resting on her paws, her eyes were closed but her ears swivelled as the men spoke.
‘It’s a dark business, Dafydd,’ Bryn-Wisgi said into his glass as he took a swig, ‘who’d have thought a Druid was capable of murder … you sure it was Nerys?’
‘Sure as I can be, Bryn. There wasn’t much left.’ Dafydd hugged his mug of tea and sighed.
‘But why, Dafydd? Why would he kill her?’ Bryn-Wisgi shook his head. ‘He must have known he would have got caught sooner or later?’
‘Bryn, shut up with your questions will you?’ Gwyn tutted as he rested his mug on the arm of the chair. ‘How is Dad supposed to know what was going on in the Druid’s head? I’ve always thought there was something tricky about that one – y Gigfran they call him – I’ve never liked the look of him, he’s a wrong’en and that’s all there is to it.’
‘Yes, but what I’m asking is: why Nerys? Does that mean Anwen can come home now he’s been caught?’ Bryn-Wisgi asked as he eyed his now empty glass.
‘Anwen can stay where she is for now until that bastard faces the R’hela. She can come home once he’s dead, I’ll not risk her coming home until then.’ Dafydd’s face was grim.
‘But they’ve got him! Surely she’ll be safe – unless you think there are more of them out to get your family?’ Bryn leaned forward in his chair, suddenly unsure whether he should be associating himself with the Morgans if there was still unfinished business.
‘For cryin’ out loud, Bryn, put a sock in it!’ Gwyn said gruffly. ‘Dafydd’s got enough on his plate without you going on with yourself.’ Gwyn shook his head at Bryn. ‘You can ask as many bloody questions as you want but you won’t get any answers. The Triskelion Elders will decide y Gigfran’s fate based on their hearing – leave it to them.’
‘Alright, alright,’ Bryn grumbled, ‘only, what are we telling everyone else though? People will be asking about Nerys and Anwen and not just the Chosen.’
‘As far as the Chosen know, well there’s a meeting this evening at your pub and the announcement will be made then. As for everyone else, the story is Nerys had a heart attack and was found in a field – dead, obviously. Anwen is so distraught she’s gone to stay with relatives for a while, she can’t stand to be at the farm knowing it was where her favourite aunt died.’ Gwyn, Dai and Dafydd had already rehearsed the lie.
‘Will it wash?’ Bryn didn’t seem to think so.
Dai pursed his lips. ‘One more bloody question from you and I swear I’ll box your ears!’
‘Alright!’ Bryn said indignantly as he set his glass down. ‘Anyways, I have to be going, the wife wants me back to change the barrels before this evening.’ He stood to leave, shaking hands with Gwyn and Dafydd before leaving. ‘I’ll see myself out.’ He cast a huffy glare at Dai before he stalked out of the room.
Dai waited until he heard the back door click shut. ‘Bloody gossip, he only came here for the bloody gossip.’
‘Why’s he asking about Anwen?’ Gwyn asked suspiciously. ‘She’s got nothing to do with Nerys’ murder.’
Dafydd stared into the flames. He was bone tired. ‘It’s like Dai says, he’s just fishing for gossip to spread down the pub.’ His mind was ticking away, thoughts were whirling round and round like tiny cogs, only they didn’t sit right with one another and the cogs kept jumping out of sync: something felt … wrong.
‘You alright Dafydd?’ Dai watched his oldest friend and closest neighbour. ‘Something on your mind, my friend?’
Dafydd sighed. ‘I guess I’m just knackered, Dai. It’s just … I don’t know, something feels wrong – more than Nerys and y Gigfran … I’ve just got this feeling … ah, ignore me, I’m just tired.’
The three men sat in silence listening to the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway and the crackling of the fire. Gwyn took a slug of tea. He felt the same way as his father but he couldn’t vocalise it. Something felt askew, something felt wrong in some way but he couldn’t express it. Gwyn thought it felt like trying to describe something you can only partially see – maybe he was just tired too. Gwyn was always sullen when he was tired.
Dai tapped his finger on the edge of his mug. Since childhood Dai had always trusted Dafydd’s judgement. He broke the silence. ‘I think you’re right, Dafydd, something is definitely amiss.’ Dafydd and Gwyn both swivelled their heads towards him. ‘Why did they send you through my mirror? Why not yours? Why were you suddenly released, no more questions, just “sorry about that, you’re no longer Gwaradwyddedig, off you go!”’ Dai rubbed his chin. ‘Did you see what the Druids were laying when you came through the mirror?’ Dafydd and Gwyn shook their heads. ‘Well, I saw it when I came to bring you back. They were laying white sage,’ he said ominously.
Dafydd and Gwyn stared at each other for a moment, confusion was evident on their faces. ‘So?’ Dafydd asked.
Dai rolled his eyes. ‘Use your noggin’ – white sage … they’ll be smudging and you know what that means?’ Again Dafydd and Gwyn were confused. Dai leaned forward. ‘Smudging! They’re smudging and that means they’ve got a problem with Ysbrydion.’
Gwyn bounced in his seat. ‘That’s what the Bwy Hir shouted before the mirror closed: “Ysbrydion! Dark Spirits!” –
that’s what he said.’
Dai nodded, knowingly, satisfied his hunch had been correct. ‘That’s why they wanted you out of there, they’re hiding it from us Chosen too. There’s something fishy going on, on their side of the mirrors there’s trouble afoot, you mark my words.’
‘Is a murderous Druid not trouble enough?’ Dafydd drew his eyebrows down. ‘Evil spirits … do you think y Gigfran was possessed or something, or has he something to do with the Ysbrydion? But what is that to do with the mirrors?’
Dai leaned back in his chair, Gwyn and Dafydd did likewise. ‘All I know is,’ Dai said, in a near whisper, ‘the Druids are keeping something from us and I don’t like secrets.’
Dafydd winced inside, he hated keeping secrets from his best friend, but it looked like everybody was keeping secrets lately. He didn’t know whether he truly wanted to know what was going on in the Druid Halls, he hated politics and intrigue. “Ignorance is bliss” had been one of his favourite sayings in times past, but the past was gone and so he looked to his friend and recited, ‘”But our innocence goes awfully deep, and our discreditable secret is that we don't know anything at all, and our horrid inner secret is that we don't care that we don't.''’
‘I care,’ said Dai cheerlessly, ‘I care.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Taliesin sat in silent study in the Great Library. Open in front of him on a worn oak desk was a large leather bound book, faded with age but little used. The book was titled “Grimoire o gyfrinachau”: Grimoire of secrets.
There were many Grimoires in the Great Library, but this particular tomb dealt specifically with evil spirits and how to combat them. There were many chapters in the ancient tomb spread open on the desk, some discussed the use of herbs and plants required to dispel evil: holly, mistletoe, hawthorn and white sage to name but a few. Other chapters listed the incantations required, or the creation of protective amulets and the prerequisite runes.
