The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy

by Lowri Thomas

  ‘We’re on the A470 – not much farther now.’ Gwyn blinked and yawned. ‘There’s a road map in the glove box.’

  Anwen leaned forward and retrieved the battered and worn road atlas before spreading in out on her lap and flicking through the pages. When she had found the page she was looking for, she delved into the foot well and rummaged in her rucksack before pulling out a small black leather bound book. Setting it on top of the atlas she opened its pages and compared the two.

  ‘What you doing Anwen?’ Gwyn already knew the answer; he’d seen that book before. ‘What did Taliesin give you?’

  ‘Knowledge.’ Anwen didn’t look up. ‘He gave me knowledge, Gwyn. In here is the location of every Cerdd Carega in existence.’

  ‘So? We’re not going to be using them, are we? They’re all being watched; it’s too dangerous.’ His voice held an admonitory note of disapproval.

  ‘They can’t be watching all of them.’ Anwen turned her head towards him. ‘There are too many and besides, some are so old and unused they are probably forgotten.’

  ‘We’re sticking to the plan, Anwen.’ Gwyn sounded sterner than he’d intended.

  ‘And if the plan doesn’t stick to us?’ Anwen retorted. ‘Who owns this Gwiddon Farm anyway? What if they can’t be trusted? What if they’re not even there when we arrive? What then, Gwyn?’ Davy whimpered in his sleep and Anwen placed a calming hand on his forehead and hushed him.

  Gwyn gripped the steering wheel and ground his teeth. He knew she was right – she was always bloody right. ‘Service station’s just up ahead,’ he announced, as he flicked the indicator off and began to pull off onto the junction that led to the jarringly lit station squatting on the hillside. ‘We’ll grab breakfast and I’ll get some more petrol before we carry on to Gwiddon Farm.’ There. He’d said it. They were going to Gwiddon Farm just as Awel had arranged.

  Anwen gently shook Davy awake as Gwyn parked the van. Davy was bleary eyed and happy to be carried inside, resting his head on his mother’s shoulder as he sucked his thumb, again with that faraway look in his eye. Gwyn didn’t know much about children, but he knew something was wrong with the boy; maybe he’d ask Anwen later. He followed behind them and ordered breakfast while Anwen took Davy into the toilets.

  Gwyn sipped at his mug of tea and deliberated. What if Anwen was right? What if Gwiddon Farm wasn’t safe? It was his job to get Anwen and Davy back home and into the Dell – it was the safest place for them, wasn’t it? A worm of reluctance made his stomach lurch; if they went into the Dell he would be alone again. His thoughts turned to Bara. He wished he’d kept her with him. He hoped she wasn’t fretting while he was away.

  ‘The tea that bad?’ Anwen slipped into the seat opposite him, deposited Davy on the chair next to her and placed her rucksack at her feet. He was so small his eyes barely cleared the table top and Gwyn couldn’t help but smile. ‘The tea’s fine – wet and warm – no, I was just thinking about home.’

  The breakfast arrived and Gwyn tucked in with gusto. Anwen cut hers into small pieces and pulled Davy onto her lap, sharing toast and sausage while spooning the beans into Davy’s mouth with a teaspoon.

  ‘Listen, Gwyn,’ Anwen spoke over Davy’s head. ‘I need to get home faster than we’ve been travelling … I need to get Davy back into the Dell.’ Davy heard his name and raised his head from the plate and smiled. ‘Eat your breakfast all up so you can be a big boy like Uncle Gwyn.’ Davy returned to his plate.

  ‘You want to use the Cerdd Caregas don’t you?’ Gwyn pushed his empty plate away.

  ‘Yes.’ Anwen was calm, not her usual bolshy self. ‘He’s coming, Gwyn. Arawn is coming and I need to get Davy where he can’t get to him … The Druid back in Cardiff saw us – saw the van too – they’ll be looking for us … We’re in a race now and it’s going to have to be a sprint finish.’

  ‘What have you got in mind, Anwen.’ Gwyn sighed with resignation. ‘The Cerdd Carega are being watched.’

  ‘And so are the Gwrachod – you told me so yourself – and this Gwiddon Farm, I’m presuming they’re part of the Gwrachod too, but there are some Cerdd Carega that will not be watched, we can use them.’

  ‘How do you know which ones are watched and which ones are not?’ Gwyn leaned back in his chair and studied his sister over the rim of his mug as she used one hand to steady Davy and one hand to rummage in her rucksack.

  ‘Look.’ She placed the black note book between them and opened the pages. ‘Here’s a shocker for you,’ she ran her finger down the list of names and places all handwritten in brown ink by a precise hand. Next to each name, some of which Gwyn recognised, were an array of symbols, some in blue or black, others in red and the one Anwen stopped her finger at was a green circle with a cross within. ‘The green ones are churches.’ Anwen raised her eyebrows expectantly.

  Gwyn was lost – again. ‘I don’t understand.’ He scratched the back of his head and Anwen rolled her eyes.

  ‘Here.’ She flicked on a few pages and with deft fingers opened the centre of the book. ‘Pull out the pages; there’s a map.’

  He leaned over and gently unfolded both sides of the inner pages to reveal a skilfully drawn map. ‘It’s Britain?’ Anwen nodded. It was incredibly detailed; the shore line etched with tiny waves, hills, mountains and rivers all shown with precise hashed lines and curves, but the most intriguing where the symbols dotted all over the map, red, green, black and blue.

  Most of the symbols were black spirals, some were red spirals with a downward facing triangle, others were blue spirals with an upward facing triangle, and the green were a circle with a Christian cross in its centre. Gwyn was both fascinated and perplexed; he looked across the table to Anwen pleading enlightenment.

  ‘Red is Cerdd Carega only female Bwy Hir can use. Blue is only male. Black is both. Green … there the Cerdd Carega is positioned on holy ground – churches, Gwyn. There are Cerdd Carega in churches!’

  ‘Really? You sure?’ Gwyn was sceptical.

  ‘Yes.’ Anwen was enthused. ‘I’ve checked one or two out myself. Only in the ancient churches, but they are there, hidden in the graveyards or within the churches themselves … there is one in Llanrhychwyn Church, just on the edge of Gwydir Forest itself.’

  ‘But how do we get there?’ Gwyn leaned forward in his chair, urging Anwen to reveal more and she obliged by flicking over some more pages.

  ‘This book is like the road atlas in your van.’ She found the page she wanted and held it down so Gwyn could see for himself. This page held another map, one of Wales and it only showed green symbols. Each symbol was connected with a thin green line and beside each symbol was the name of a church. He found roughly where they were in relation to the map and then followed the line that connected to Llanrhychwyn. Only two jumps: a short drive, two jumps and three churches to home.

  Gwyn pursed his lips. ‘How do we get from Llanrhychwyn Church to the Cerdd Carega outside the Dell without being caught? The whole valley will be crawling with Druids, Bradychwr, Helgi and god knows what else.’

  Arawn shook her head and stared at the open book as if it would provide an answer. ‘I don’t know.’ Her shoulders slumped but her eye was caught by something dangling from Gwyn’s wrist. ‘Do you trust Awel, Gwyn? I mean, do you really trust her?’

  Gwyn rubbed his chin and thought long and hard before answering, ‘Yes. Yes I do.’

  ‘Good, ‘cause she knows where we are.’ Anwen smiled as she reached over and pulled back her brother’s cuff revealing the silver bracelet and the tiny acorn dangling from the chain. ‘And all we need to do is tell her where to meet us.’

  ‘I’d forgotten about that.’ He looked down at his wrist. ‘I need to make a phone call.’ He twisted in his seat. ‘I need to get a message to Liz.’

  ‘Tell her we’ll be at Llanrhychwyn Church by nightfall.’ Anwen pressed her lips together and remained in her seat as Gwyn stood up and traipsed off to find a public telephone.

  Fishing in his jeans pock
ets he pulled out some silver coins, grabbed the receiver, fed the coins into the slot, dialled the number and waited.

  ‘Hello?’ A harassed and upset voice spoke down the phone. Gwyn could hear raised voices and what sounded like occasional knocking on a window.

  ‘Hello, Dai? Is that you?’

  ‘Bloody hell, Gwyn!’ Dai hushed his voice and whispered. ‘Is that you, boy?’

  ‘Yes. What’s up? What’s all the commotion?’

  ‘Oh,’ Dai moaned down the phone, ‘It’s the bloody Ysbrydion! I didn’t do the salting, like Glyn-Guinea said and now my mirror’s beset by banging and scratching and I can see ‘em, the filthy buggers, just behind the glass!’

  ‘What?’ Gwyn couldn’t make sense of what he was being told. ‘Dai, listen, I need to speak to Liz.’

  ‘What?’ Dai shouted over another bang followed by a sinister tap-tap-tap that made Gwyn’s skin crawl. ‘Where are you Gwyn? Are you alright?’

  ‘Liz!’ I need to speak to Liz!’ Gwyn raised his voice and then hunched his shoulders hoping no one in the service station was staring at him.

  ‘Oh. Hold on, hold on.’ Dai called Liz’s name. ‘Come quick.’

  There was a silent pause and then Gwyn heard Liz’s shaky voice. ‘H-hello?’

  ‘Liz, its Gwyn – just listen – you need to get a message to Awel. Tell her we’re coming home but not the way she said. Tell her we’ll be in Llanrhychwyn Church by nightfall. You got that, Liz?’

  ‘Yes. I hear you.’ Another bang. ‘Oh, God, Gwyn, are you sure you should come back? All hell’s breaking loose here.’

  ‘We have to. All three of us – you hear, Liz – all three.’

  ‘Oh, oh, Okay. I’ll do it now. Look after yourself, all of you. Do you want to speak to Dai?’

  ‘No. Just get the message to Awel.’ He hung up.

  Anwen and Davy weren’t where he left them and that caused him a flutter of panic until he spied them in the open shop across from the café. He waved to catch Anwen’s attention and pointed towards the van as she handed over her money to the cashier while Davy stood absently beside her.

  By the time all three were together in the van it was full daylight and Gwyn realised he hadn’t slept at all. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his fists and yawned.

  ‘You’ll need to sleep at some point. Why don’t you let me drive for a while?’ Anwen clicked Davy’s seatbelt in place.

  ‘You’ve learned to drive?’ Gwyn blinked at her.

  ‘I can drive,’ she replied defensively, ‘I don’t have a licence, but I can drive.’

  Gwyn snorted, ‘I remember what you did to PC James’ VW Campervan … I’ll drive.’ He turned the key in the ignition and the engine spring to life. Anwen crossed her arms defensively and threw him a peevish scowl. Gwyn laughed out loud, put the van into gear and released the handbrake. ‘Where to?’

  Anwen tutted but pulled out her black book and consulted the road atlas. ‘St Tydecho's Church is in the village of Cemmaes – stay on the A470 until we see the signs for it.’

  Gwyn nodded and set the van in motion. ‘Are you sure about this?’

  ‘No,’ Anwen replied. ‘Are you?’

  ‘No.’ Gwyn pulled onto the motorway and with a grim nod of determination accelerated towards the village of Cemmaes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Dai was on the telephone speaking to one of the Chosen Elders. ‘No, I didn’t go through – Well, then it’s a good job I listened to Glyn-Guinea – I don’t care if your mirror is fine – Mine’s going bonkers – Yes, Ysbrydion – Just send a Druid will you? – I need to know what to do – Yes, I know most of the Elders are attending a summit, you’ve already told me that – Yes, yes, I’ll wait in – Fine, phone me back when you know.’ He slammed the phone down.

  ‘Well that got me exactly nowhere!’ he called to Liz who was busy in the kitchen. ‘Says he’ll phone me back.’ He shook his head, stuffed his hands in his cardigan pockets and shuffled into the front room to stare at the mirror.

  The cloying smog of burnt sage filled the room. Liz had tried to open a window to let the smoke out but Dai had insisted she didn’t – better safe than sorry. The mirror was exactly where he’d left it on the far wall and it looked the same too until it started again – until they started again.

  Tap-tap-tap. Dai took an involuntary step back. They were back; dark grey or red wisps twisting and darting from one edge of the mirror to the other before vanishing out of sight. ‘Dirty little devils,’ he growled under his breath, sounding more cavalier than he felt.

  ‘Someone’s here!’ Liz shouted from the kitchen as Dai heard a car pull into the yard as he retreated from the front room and closed the door shut behind him.

  He opened the back door and stepped out into the afternoon sunshine and was greeted by the sight of Saw-Bones Selwyn getting out of his car.

  ‘Oh, you’re back!’ Dai was pleased to see him. ‘How was your trip?’

  Selwyn shut the car door and put his hand out and Dai gladly shook it. ‘Come in, come in. Let’s get you a cup of tea. Liz. Liz, its Selwyn!’ he called ahead of himself and Selwyn followed.

  ‘Selwyn!’ Liz embraced him and ushered him to a chair at the kitchen table. ‘Good to have you back. How was it in London? Tea?’

  Selwyn gratefully sat down. ‘Tea would be lovely, it was a long trip back from London – I came straight here, I saw Trevor in the village, he says there’s been all sorts of trouble with the mirrors.’

  ‘Of course!’ Dai slapped his open palm to his forehead. ‘You weren’t here for the salting, so your mirror will be going bonkers too – Ysbrydion again – only this time they are only attacking the mirrors that were not salted and this time they’re madder than hell.’

  ‘I see.’ Selwyn waved a hand as if the mirrors weren’t important. ‘What of Anwen Morgan? Have they been found?’

  Dai shared a look with Liz. They had already discussed that only the “Triskele-within-the-Triskele” should be told about the news of the Morgans, but Selwyn was one of them and a quick nod from Liz loosened Dai’s tongue. ‘They are on their way home as we speak.’

  Selwyn sat forward in his seat. ‘How? Where are they now?’

  Dai hesitated a moment; something about Selwyn’s manner disturbed him. ‘They are meeting Awel this evening – I don’t know more than that.’

  ‘So, Selwyn,’ Liz interrupted with a feigned smile, ‘what happened in London?’

  Selwyn shook himself. ‘What? Oh, the flat was a wreck. The insurers are dealing with it all via the solicitors.’

  ‘And Mary?’ Liz urged.

  ‘Mary’s remains are being cremated and posted back up here for burial with her parents.’ Selwyn looked out of the window towards his car.

  ‘Is that what she wanted?’ Liz spoke softly, her hand gently clasping her own throat.

  ‘What? Yes. It’s in her will.’ Selwyn stood up. ‘I’ve just realised how exhausted I am, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go home.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Selwyn.’ Liz fussed and fretted. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you by mentioning Mary.’

  Selwyn made for the back door. ‘Don’t be silly, Liz,’ he opened the back door and let himself out, Dai and Liz trailing behind him. ‘It’s not as if Mary and I were close.’ He waved them goodbye and reversed his car out of the yard.

  ‘What the hell was that all about?’ Dai put his hands on his hips.

  ‘Why would he say that?’ Liz hugged herself despite the warm breeze blowing through the farm yard. ‘I thought he was close to Mary?’

  The phone rang and Dai rushed back inside to answer it, leaving Liz on the doorstep to ponder. ‘Oh, I’m jumping at shadows; these Ysbrydion have got me spooked.’ She spoke to herself, ‘Fancy me suspecting Doctor Selwyn Jones of anything underhanded and him just back from dealing with his cousin’s death – shame on me.’ She shook her head and chuckled as she went back inside, shutting the door behind her.

  Dai hung up the phone.
‘There’s a Druid coming tonight, they won’t come while they think you’re awake,’ he said tutting, ‘Gary will have to wait in for him tonight.’

  ‘Why, where are you going?’ Liz drew her eyebrows together and crossed her arms.

  ‘Did you get the message to Awel?’ Dai asked.

  ‘Yes. I used the Drych ysgrifennu. Why?’

  ‘’Cause I’m going to be there too … I’ve got a funny feeling, Liz.’

  ‘Do you think it’s safe?’ Liz touched her husband’s arm.

  ‘Probably not, but I owe it to Dafydd to see nothing happens to his family.’

  ‘Should you not take someone with you?’

  ‘Like who?’ He patted her arm. ‘Glyn-Guinea’s off putting his four-penny’s worth in at this summit thing and Gary has to stay here.’

  ‘What about Trevor? He was Dafydd’s friend too.’

  ‘We agreed the less people that know, the better it is.’ He kissed her on the forehead. ‘I’ll be better off on my own. Don’t worry, I’m too old and fat for any heroics.’

  Liz raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a long-suffering stare. ‘So why are you looking at your gun cabinet then?’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Awel was in her pavilion studying a small scroll held open between her fingers. Bara had decided to keep her company and Awel wondered whether the dog knew. ‘How could you possibly know?’ Bara pricked up her eyes and tipped her head to one side, her tongue lolling as she panted where she lay on Awel’s cot.

  ‘Talking to yourself again?’ Celyn-Bach poked his head through the tent flap. ‘May I come in?’

  Awel smiled and nodded her head. ‘You are always welcome and I was talking to Bara.’

  Celyn-Bach slipped in and made himself comfortable next to Bara on the cot. ‘I think she does know.’

  ‘Know what?’ Awel asked absently as she studied the scroll.

  ‘That Gwyn Morgan is on his way back.’

  Awel froze. ‘And how do you know that? I’ve only just found out myself?’

  ‘Bara told me.’ He gave her a mischievous smile. ‘If you want to keep it a secret, you’d better keep her away from Bran; they’ve been thick as thieves since he arrived.’