The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy

by Lowri Thomas

She gasped as he suddenly sprang forward to grab her arm, she tried to pull from his grasp but he was too strong. Slowly he swung his legs off the bed and stood, towering over her. She shrank away from him as he gazed down at her, his lips moving as he whispered his incantation.

  The pain began almost immediately, a burning, searing pain radiating from her arm and up into her chest. Desperately she tried to call out, to pull herself from his grip, but she was helpless as the pain continued through her chest and into her spine, radiating down to her legs and up into her head. Throbbing, numbing, relentless pain. Her muscles contorted, her heart hammered, every fibre of her being screamed in agony as her body began to convulse.

  Cadno released her and she slumped to the floor, her body writhing and convulsing, lips pulled back as foam bubbled from her mouth, eyes rolling. Cadno watched impassively wondering whether he had failed to recite the incantation correctly and then he took an involuntary step back as her skin began to split, her muscles began to bunch and writhe and her bones began to snap sickeningly as she began to transfigure.

  Cadno was rapt, engrossed, fascinated in the metamorphosis. No wonder the Druids despise their fate. He tore his eyes away and cast a glance at the Helgi. They too were watching the transfiguration and Cadno wondered what they were thinking. Do they understand?

  A whimper caught his attention and he swung his head back to the girl. She was a girl no longer. A female Helgi lay panting on the floor, its coat slick with blood and viscous slime, lying on a bed of ripped and bloodied rags that were once its clothes. Cadno smiled. Success!

  As the new Helgi lay panting the other two padded over, sniffing and growling low in their throats. They stood over her, smelling and pushing at her coat with their huge muzzles. Her eyes were rolling, panicked and terrified as the two males stood over her, sniffing between her hind legs and almost immediately, the larger of the two tried to mount her, pushing the other aside, growling and readying himself. The other barged back, snapping at the other’s face, keen to take his place.

  Cadno stood back and folded his arms. He had done it! He had a female Helgi and the beginnings of a breeding pack. One more female was all he needed and then he would be ready to leave.

  He left his room and closed the door securely behind him, leaving the two males to fight it out over the new female: the first and only female Helgi in existence. Cadno hoped that Atgas wouldn’t be too displeased at the use of her servant, but she had promised him two females and as yet, he had only taken one.

  The hallways and stairwell were deserted as Cadno descended towards the cellar where he presumed Atgas would be, preparing for her guests. He had not been invited into Atgas’ inner sanctum and so, until now he had not ventured down into the cellar, but his curiosity coupled with his desire to share his transfiguration success spurred his feet downwards.

  ‘Atgas?’ he called into the shadowy recesses of the vaulted cellar. No reply. He ventured further into the cellar, his feet scraping on the cobbled floor. It was a surprisingly large cellar, spanning almost the entire width of the building. Red brick arches bridged the ceiling, meeting at the wall junctions and Cadno could not help but admire the architecture; there was an almost natural feel to the cellar, cleverly designed, yet earthy. Cadno could understand Atgas’ choice of venue, except for the high pitched electrical buzzing assaulting his ears. Why does Atgas allow electricity down here? The noise is almost unbearable. ‘Atgas?’ he called again, but there was still no answer.

  Movement. Cadno spotted movement ahead of him and small flickers of light – candles? He advanced towards it, pushing away the buzzing in his ears and concentrating on the source of light. He discovered that there was a large brick support column in the centre of the cellar and it was that which blocked his view.

  Cadno had a sixth sense, and it was warning him that something was wrong. He almost backtracked and returned to his room but his curiosity pushed him on. Tiptoeing to the column he pressed himself against it and listened. It was Atgas and she was whispering. To whom? There was only her voice and she was speaking in her native language: Welsh. He strained to decipher her words, but the electrical buzzing was interfering and so he took a chance and peered around the column.

  Atgas had her back to him as she leaned over a large copper bowl. A silver candlestick placed to her right shone its yellow glow, highlighting her raven tresses. Cadno recognised the bowl; it was not any bowl, it was a powlen ysbryd: a spirit bowl, and that meant one thing: not only was Atgas practicing in dark arts, whomever she was speaking to was in y Gwag. Cadno’s heart sank.

  He leaned back heavily on the column separating him from Atgas. Gwrnach had been right: Atgas’ heart was as black as her hair. Cadno cursed silently and then suddenly winced as the buzzing of electricity changed pitch to a squealing whine. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and he ventured a second look.

  Atgas had hold of a live feed of electricity, the cord snaked off into the shadows, but its end she held over the bowl, feeding it onto the bowl’s surface and the surface was alive. Cadno could not believe his eyes: Atgas was creating a doorway, exactly akin to the Druid Mirrors, only this doorway did not pass through y Gwag, but into it.

  Atgas took a jug with her other hand and lifted it over the bowl. Tilting the jug slowly, she poured its contents into the opening. Blood. Cadno concealed himself in the shadows and slowly, silently left Atgas to her machinations, retracing his steps back out into the light and up to his room.

  Atgas was a lost cause and more, she was an evil threat and he needed to get as far away from her as possible. What is she doing? Opening y Gwag was a dangerous thing, an evil thing. Who was she contacting? Why? He knew he should warn the Host, Atgas’ actions could threaten the Bwy Hir, the Druids and the Chosen. He knew to put blood in y Gwag was a foolish and wicked thing, to feed Ysbrydion was inviting trouble, but why? Why would she do it? Cadno seethed at his own stupidity: he should never have come. He should have stayed with the Host.

  Flinging the door open he began to gather his belongings as quickly as he could. The three Helgi were sitting together in the corner of the room watching as he began to empty drawers and pack. He had to leave: now.

  Whistling for the Helgi to follow he left his room, cantering down the main staircase and out of the back door that lead into the fields. It was nearly dusk and he hoped the gloom would conceal his presence from unwitting eyes.

  As he stalked through the fields he cast his mind out in search of the foxes. They were still there and they would take him to where he needed to go: the nearest Cerdd Carega to get him as far away from Caerlleon as he could.

  He fumed as he walked. Coming to Atgas had been a mistake. How could I have been so stupid? He kicked at the grass. He would have to change his plans: He had listened long and hard in the shadows of Gwydir forest the night he stumbled upon Mab, Awel and Taliesin deep in conversation with a Chosen. He knew about the girl with the Bwy Hir blood. She would be his mate. She would be the mother of the new order of Nephilim. All he had to do was find her.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Anwen stepped off the train and onto the platform. It seemed so long ago since she stood on this very station, alone and scared, but it was only weeks, not years. She followed Mary towards the exit and onto the streets of Chester. It was well past dark and Mary insisted they travel into the city centre by taxi.

  Mary had already booked a room in a small inn a short walk from the river and was eager to be off the streets and behind closed doors as quickly as possible. They checked into a dated but cosy twin room and Mary pulled the curtains.

  ‘Why are you acting so nervous?’ Anwen was sprawled out on her bed. Her feet and back ached.

  ‘There are rules, Anwen,’ Mary answered, ‘laws and rules. Being on the street of Chester at nightfall can be a dangerous business.’

  Anwen snorted. ‘We’re in Chester, Mary! It’s not exactly the most dangerous city on earth.’

  ‘It is when you’re Welsh, young lady
.’ Mary glared at her over the rim of her glasses and Anwen frowned. Mary continued. ‘We are in Atgas’ territory now. She is – was Bwy Hir … banished. She took up residence here and made a vow: any Welshman found on the streets after dark belong to her. She promised to shoot an arrow through the heart of every Welsh man or woman she found in her dark domain, she even made a pact, long ago with the rulers of this city and they made a law granting the same: any Welshman found within the city walls after midnight may be shot with bow and arrow … the law still stands.’

  Anwen tipped her head to one side. Am I supposed to believe that? she thought wryly. Yet judging by the look on Mary’s face, Mary certainly believed it. ‘Why did you bring us here, then?’ Anwen asked.

  ‘Where better?’ Mary shrugged her shoulders and began to empty her case into the wardrobe. ‘No Druid would dare enter Atgas’ domain. We should be safe here for now, until we can work something out.’

  ‘I still don’t understand.’ Anwen rubbed her swollen stomach. ‘Why am I hiding? I need to return.’

  ‘No.’ Mary shook her head as she neatly placed her smalls in one of the bedside cabinet draws. ‘We wait. You cannot be sure who sent that message. Maybe it was a trap? Awel said to keep you away and what I know for sure is that Druids are looking for you.’

  Anwen sighed – they were arguing in circles. ‘It was from Taliesin.’ She watched Mary shuffle around the room, fussing and straightening things that did not need straightening. ‘How many times? Taliesin needs me to return.’

  ‘How do you know it was Taliesin?’ Mary stopped her fussing and sat down on the opposite bed to Anwen.

  ‘Because I do. He gave me the mirror.’ Anwen set her jaw.

  ‘And if it was someone else? If it is a trap? What then, Anwen?’ Mary was tired of this endless argument.

  ‘But it’s not. It’s Taliesin and I need to return.’ Anwen was a stubborn girl and Mary had her hands full.

  ‘Your father told you not to return. I don’t think it would be wise to return, but as you are relentless in your quest for self-destruction I will make a telephone call.’ Mary held up her hand at Anwen’s animated happiness. ‘But if they say no, we stay here. Agreed?’

  Anwen nodded enthusiastically. ‘Agreed.’ There was no telephone in the room, nor a public phone in reception, so that meant a trip out onto the streets of Chester to find a telephone box. Mary pulled the net curtain away from the window and looked outside. It was nearly dark. ‘We should wait until the morning, maybe?’ she asked Anwen, as she closed the net curtains.

  ‘Oh, come on!’ Anwen rolled her eyes. ‘Anyway, I’m hungry so we need to go out anyway.’

  Mary pressed her lips together. Sometimes she felt like shaking some sense into the foolish girl. ‘Then I must be quick.’

  Anwen excitedly pulled on her jacket and ran a brush through her hair. ‘Let’s go!’

  Mary crossed her arms. ‘You are going nowhere, young lady. You will stay here, I will go and I’ll bring you something to eat.’ Mary was adamant. Anwen knew that stance and knew there was no point arguing so she shuffled off her coat and flounced back onto the bed while shooting Mary a withering look.

  Mary put on her own coat and would not leave until Anwen promised – cross your heart promised – not to leave the room and then she slipped out. Anwen threw a shoe at the closed door and swore under her breath. Jailed by an old biddy, she fumed and then she picked her coat up off the floor and rummaged through its pockets until her hand closed around her mirror.

  Sitting back on the bed she carefully opened the mirror. There was already a message: “Anwen, answer me, where are you?” it read.

  She brushed the surface with the heel of her palm and breathed on the glass. Is that you, Tali? she wrote and then wiped the glass surface. After only a moment a reply appeared: ‘Yes, Anwen, it’s me. Where are you?’

  She wiped the mirror a second time and breathed, misting the surface. She was so excited her fingers shook as she wrote her reply: ‘Tali, how do I know it’s you?’

  The reply confirmed it: ‘Are all Bwy Hir rude or am I just the exception?’

  It was him, it was Taliesin! She clung to the mirror and she could have cried she was so pleased to hear from him. She wrote her reply: ‘I’m in Caerlleon.’

  There was a long pause before he wrote again and Anwen was beginning to worry that Mary would be returning any moment. Finally the message appeared: ‘STAY WHERE YOU ARE – I’m coming to find you.’

  Anwen snapped the mirror shut as she heard footsteps in the hallway, she shoved the mirror under her pillow and sat back, feigning discontentment. Mary opened the door and the smell of fish and chips filled the room as she entered. ‘Hungry?’ She passed the paper wrapped meal to Anwen who accepted it gratefully.

  ‘So, any news?’ Anwen asked between mouthfuls of chips. Mary sat down on the edge of the bed and opened her own meal. Fish and chips were not exactly savoir-faire, but it was sustenance and Mary had not realised how hungry she was until now.

  ‘I’ve made the phone call and I’m not sure what to do, Anwen, not sure at all.’ Mary blew on a steaming chip before popping it into her mouth. ‘There is a bounty on your head Anwen.’ Anwen’s jaw dropped open and Mary continued. ‘Fifty marks to be exact. King Aeron himself has placed the bounty and demands your surrender to him … why? Also, the Druids have banned use of the mirrors and the general consensus is that they are contaminated in some way, tainted by Ysbrydion and this I believe as I noted a problem with our mirrors – runes to be exact … what a mess.’ Mary took off her glasses and rubbed them clean of condensation from the chips. ‘I suggest we do not use our mirrors at all for the moment.’

  ‘And Dad and Gwyn? Are they alright? Do they want me to come home? What about Nerys?’ Anwen discarded her meal, she was no longer hungry.

  Mary shook her head and replaced her glasses. ‘Dafydd and Gwyn are fine, but they do not want you to go home. They have refused to hand you over and there appears to be ill feeling between the Druids and the Chosen. An unprecedented mess Anwen, and you seem to be smack bang in the centre of it … what a mess.’ Mary continued to concentrate on her food. ‘The question is: what do we do? What would Awel want? Oh, how I wish I could speak with her.’

  Anwen listened to Mary as she explained the telephone call, but her mind was already made up. Taliesin needed her, the Pride needed her and she would be returning to Wales whether Mary agreed or not. ‘Mary, you need to listen,’ Anwen said, placing a hand on Mary’s arm as she spoke. ‘I am returning home … Taliesin is already on his way … I’m going home, Mary.’

  ‘What have you done?’ Mary pulled her arm away and stood up. ‘You’ve used the mirror, haven’t you?’ she said accusingly. ‘You silly girl, what have you done?’

  ‘It’s alright.’ Anwen tried to soothe Mary. ‘It really is Taliesin and he needs me–’

  ‘Oh, shut up!’ Mary snapped. ‘After everything I have done to keep you safe, this is how you repay me!’ Mary stalked the room. ‘You don’t know what you’re walking into. Even if it is Taliesin, do you think you can just breeze into Wales and back out again without Aeron Ddu having something to say about it? You are carrying a Hanner-Bridia in your belly, you stupid, foolish girl!’

  Anwen was taken aback by the venom in Mary’s words, she had never seen her so angry. ‘Mary, please, try to understand–’

  ‘Just shut up Anwen, just shut up.’ Mary stalked into the en-suite and slammed the door behind her. Anwen sat in awkward silence, unsure what to do or what to say to placate Mary. Anwen had made up her mind, she just wished Mary would accept her decision, she didn’t want to part ways with Mary this way, and after all she was genuinely grateful for all that she had done for her.

  ‘Mary?’ Anwen stood at the bathroom door. ‘Mary, please don’t be angry. I have to do this.’ But Mary refused to answer her and so she returned to sitting on the bed to wait for her to calm down and re-emerge from behind the locked door. She hoped they could ag
ree to disagree before Taliesin arrived, although how he was going to find her she didn’t know, she just hoped it was soon.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ‘Taliesin knows where she is, we’re going to get her, Taliesin and myself,’ Celyn-Bach said to Aeron, as they sat by a huge log fire.

  Aeron frowned and said, ‘Would it not be better to send the Seekers?’

  ‘Better if Taliesin goes. If Seekers turn up it may scare her. She trusts Taliesin and I can go with him to ensure his safety.’

  ‘Caerlleon, you said?’ Celyn-Bach nodded. ‘Should you wait for the sunrise?’

  Celyn-Bach shook his head. ‘There are still a few hours until midnight, it would be better to enter Caerlleon under the cover of darkness, I would not want to scare any Lost. Taliesin is still Human height, but I …’ Celyn-Bach spread his hands.

  ‘And you are sure you can find her?’ Aeron was unhappy to discover the girl was hiding in Atgas’ territory.

  ‘She has the mirror, we can track her through that as soon as we are close enough. We will be back before nightfall.’ Aeron nodded and Celyn-Bach stood. ‘I’ll look after him, at the first sign of danger we will retreat.’

  Aeron watched Celyn-Bach leave and then he sat silently gazing into the fire. He was still undecided as to the girl's fate. Had the Pride truly accepted her as one of them – preposterous – she was Human. And the child? What would that be, Nephilim, Human, something more, something less? Aeron snorted; no, the girl was not one of them, maybe the child, but not the girl.

  Problems were piling up around him and he set Anwen Morgan to the back of his mind. His new Councillor had reported the Chosen’s disquiet at his order to surrender the girl. How dare they?

  His ex-Councillor was under questioning in Dduallt as was his little conspirator, Madog. So far Madog had squealed like a split pig; five murders he confessed to knowing of, all by Afagddu’s hand of course, yet Afagddu had not succumbed to the Questioners yet and so was due to face torture and then a Triskelion court prior to facing the R’hela itself. Aeron had no doubt that Afagddu and Madog would face the R’hela, the Chosen would be as keen as the Druids to see a bloodthirsty end to Afagddu for his sins.