Seventh Child

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Seventh Child Page 6

by Peter R. Ellis


  “The Malevolence grows,” Berddig said sadly, “Let us set off to the village and I will try to describe what has happened.” He took her hand and guided her along a path that had been made through the fallen trees. They reached the open hillside and headed down the grassy slope into the broad valley. September looked to see where she was putting her feet while Berddig strode on through the night.

  “After you and the Mordeyrn defeated the Draig tân,” he began, “we had some months of peace, but the Mordeyrn warned that the evil was growing and that we should prepare for more attacks. In the spring the first Draig tân appeared. The Mordeyrn destroyed it with his golden plate but then two more came.”

  “Three comets, all at once?” September was amazed, “That can’t be natural.”

  Berddig looked at her as if she had said the obvious.

  “Of course not. The Draig tân are the weapons of the Adwyth.”

  “Yes, I see. Didn’t he need my help to destroy the comets?”

  “They came in the daytime when the Sun gives the Mordeyrn his full power. He dispelled the second Draig tân but it took a lot of his strength. He was too drained to protect us from the third.”

  “Oh!”

  “It burst over the Cysegr – you can see what it did. But it also spread pestilence over the valley. Many cattle have died and some of our people too.”

  “Oh dear. I wish I had been here to help,” although the thought of the destruction scared September and she didn’t know what she could have done to stop it.

  Berddig stopped mid-stride, turned and smiled at her.

  “We would have appreciated your presence but the Maengolauseren did not bring you. You are here now. There will be many more occasions when your power will be needed.”

  September felt disturbed by Berddig’s words. There was a knot of fear in her chest, fear of danger and fear of not knowing what she should do.

  “What about the Cemegwr? Don’t they help you when the Malevolence comes?”

  Berddig snorted, “The Cemegwr! That old myth. Oh, some people still believe that they created everything but hardly anyone believes that they are here now watching over us.”

  They fell silent and September contemplated what Berddig had said. Perhaps belief in the Cemegwr was the same as belief in God at home – just held by a few of the remaining faithful. The hillside had levelled out and now they were walking across a meadow towards a line of trees that marked the river bank. She looked out across the river. It was wide at this point, the opposite bank just a dark line in the night. Ripples of water caught the moonlight and she could see that the river flowed sluggishly. It was a peaceful scene and for a moment September forgot about the Malevolence and the threat it posed. The gently moving water was calming. They reached the bank and Berddig left her, telling her to stay still until he called. He disappeared, another shadow amongst the trees. Then Berddig called out and September saw him gesturing to her from a few metres along the bank. He was standing in a flat bottomed boat, rather like a large punt, and gripping a thick rope that was wound around a sturdy tree trunk. The other end disappeared into the river some metres from the shore.

  “Come and get in. This is the ferry that will carry us across to Amaethaderyn.” He held out a hand to guide her from the bank into the boat. It was broad enough to be steady in the water and she was able to take a seat on one of the cross benches without worrying about her balance. Berddig moved to the other end of the boat and pulled on the rope. The ferry moved out into the river. As he tugged, more of the rope rose from the surface dripping water. September watched with interest as the young man hauled the boat across the river. As they approached the middle of the stream the current began to tug at them. September could see that Berddig was having some difficulty.

  “Can I help, Berddig?”

  “Thank you, yes. This boat is big for one person to haul. We have a team of boatmen when the village travels across for gatherings at Cysegr. Stand behind me and pull on the rope.”

  September gingerly groped her way to the front of the boat. She stood up behind Berddig placing a hand on his shoulder to steady herself and then began tugging on the rope. With the power of two people the ferry quickly moved out of the faster flowing stream and approached the bank and another line of trees. The hull grated on the gravel of the riverbed and September grabbed hold of Berddig to stop herself toppling over. He turned to her.

  “Thank you, Cludydd. Let me help you ashore.” He stepped onto the bank and held out his hand for her to follow him. It made her feel grown up to be treated in such a courteous way and nothing like the silly girl she felt at home. He took a thinner rope tied to the front of the boat and fastened it around the nearest tree.

  “Not far now,” he said, “the village is just through the trees, by the lake.” He set off at a fast pace along a well worn path with September trotting to keep up. The trees were widely spaced so the moonlight made the way easy to follow. In a few moments they emerged into a clearing and September saw ahead of them a cluster of round buildings. They were dark shadows in the night but she could see that many were ruined, their roofs fallen in and walls flattened.

  “This is your village?” She asked. Berddig paused and looked at her. There was a deep sadness on his face,

  “It is not as it was, I am sorry.”

  “What happened?”

  “A month ago we were attacked again, this time by Adarllwchgwin.”

  “Adarluck what?”

  “Adarllwchgwin. Giant birds ridden by red-skinned servants of the Malevolence. The birds carried huge rocks and flaming bushes in their talons which they dropped on the village. Houses and workshops were damaged and many men, women and children were killed by the rocks and the fires.”

  September was horrified.

  “I saw it in my dreams but didn’t understand. I didn’t think it was real. What about the Mordeyrn? Couldn’t he stop them? And what about the other, what do you call them, with the metals, don’t some of them have powers to defend you?

  “The Mordeyrn tried as did the Cludydd o plwm and haearn and arianbyw. I fought too using my skills and the power of alcam to support the warriors. They did well, bringing down some of the Adarllwchgwin, but there were too many and they were too powerful. A group of the evil birds attacked the Mordeyrn. Their riders carry three-pronged spears that throw out cosmic fire. The Mordeyrn tried to defend himself but the golden plate disintegrated in the onslaught.”

  “The Mordeyrn’s gold plate was damaged?”

  “Destroyed.”

  “But what happened to him?”

  “He was winded and without the plate his power is limited, but he lives. The attackers left then but many homes were damaged and people died or were injured.”

  There was a call like an owl that disturbed the silence of the night. Berddig answered with a similar cry. Very quickly as they moved amongst the buildings, there were other voices and the sounds of people stirring. Men, women and children emerged from the huts, pulling on jackets, rubbing eyes, peering into the dark. They gathered around them. In the moonlight that illuminated their faces September could see weariness, sadness, fear but there was also joy and expectation directed towards her. Berddig stopped the people from pressing close.

  “My friends, as you can see, the Cludydd o Maengolauseren has returned to us. She will help us in our fight against the Adwyth, but now it is late and we are tired. Return to your beds, we will meet in the daytime and welcome the Cludydd in our accustomed manner.” Berddig urged people to return to their homes and gradually the crowd dispersed. A tall white haired lady came forward. September recognised her as the silver bearer.

  “Cludydd. I am delighted that you have come amongst us. I am Arianwen, Cludydd o arian,” she said and nodded her head.

  “Hello,” September relied, “I remember you from the last time I came. You gave me the cover for the stone.”

  “That’s correct, Cludydd. It was a great honour for me.”

  September
felt embarrassed and foolish beside this graceful woman.

  “Please call me September, or just Ember, I am not sure about all this cludith stuff.” Berddig and Arianwen smiled at her.

  “I am sure you are tired and confused,” Arianwen said, “let us find you a bed and give you time for some rest.” She and Berddig led September amongst the round houses.

  “We had a house prepared for you,” Berddig said, “but the Adarllwchgwin burnt it to the ground.”

  “So I invite you to my home,” Arianwen said. They stopped at one of the buildings. In the moonlight they were all dark shadows and September could not see any difference between them. Arianwen pushed on a low, wooden door and invited September to enter in front of her. September saw the whole room in one glance because of a small fire that burned in the middle of the floor. Smoke rose and disappeared somewhere in the thatched roof. The round walls enclosed a space about six metres across. There were mats scattered on the floor and a cluster of three chairs filled with cushions. The fire only really illuminated the centre of the house. Against the circular walls were the dark forms of other pieces of furniture, including a low, single bed.

  “Please sit down,” Arianwen said, pointing to the chairs by the fire. September sat in a wicker seat. The late night walk had made her feel weary and the cushions felt soft and comfortable. Arianwen went to a table set against the wall of the house and poured liquid from a jug into a cup. She brought it to September. “Are you thirsty after your journey?” she asked.

  September found that she was and recalled the refreshing clear water she had drunk on her previous visit. She took the cup and drained it.

  “Thank you, I didn’t realise how thirsty I was.”

  “I will leave you now,” Berddig said, “I will see you in the morning when we will discuss what we must do.” He knelt at her feet, took her hand in his and kissed it. September felt embarrassed again.

  “Why do you do this?” she asked.

  “Because I am grateful that you have come to us,” Berddig said, “and because I know you will help us.”

  “But you’re treating me like a princess, bowing and kissing my hand.”

  “I do not know what a princess is but you are the Cludydd o Maengolauseren. I, we, respect you and honour you.”

  “But I don’t deserve it. I haven’t done anything.” September felt Berddig’s attention as a great burden on her.

  “Not yet perhaps, but you will. The Maengolauseren gives its bearer power and strength. You will deserve all the honour we give you. Now you must rest.” He stood, nodded to Arianwen and left.

  September felt a tear trickle down her cheek. Arianwen noticed and came to her side, kneeling and placing an arm around her shoulders.

  “What is it, my dear?”

  “Everyone expects me to be some kind of hero, but I don’t know what to do. I’m not special, I’m not strong, or clever,” September sobbed into Arianwen’s sleeve.

  “Oh, that young man. He doesn’t understand,” Arianwen said as she hugged September, “he doesn’t realise what a burden we are placing on you. Of course you don’t know how you can help us. But he is correct; the Maengolauseren has selected you and brought you to us. You will discover how to use its power as you did when you helped the Mordeyrn destroy the first Draig tân. But all that is in the future. For tonight you need to rest because there is a great deal that lies ahead for all of us.”

  Arianwen stood up, took hold of September’s hands and drew her to her feet. She guided her to the bunk set against the wall of the hut. It was covered with a woollen blanket.

  “This is your bed for tonight. Sleep well,” Arianwen said. She pulled back the blanket revealing another beneath. September sat and swung her legs onto the bed. The mattress was firm but comfortable. She rested her head on a soft cushion. Her mind was fuzzy with tiredness but full of all that she had seen and all that had been said. Arianwen rested a hand holding her silver amulet on her forehead.

  “Sleep, child, sleep,” she said softly.

  8

  It was the unfamiliar noises that woke September. Voices nearby calling out and talking, sounds made by animals and of large pieces of timber being hit with heavy mallets, the clang of metals, and the birds. There was the sound of chickens clucking, ducks quacking, songbirds singing, rooks cawing and many other screeches and tweets that September couldn’t identify. There were smells too, wood fires and food cooking, animal odours and scents of plants hanging in the air. She opened her eyes and recalled at once that she was not at home in her own bed but lying in a wooden bunk snuggled in wonderfully soft, woollen blankets on a mattress of goose-down. She stirred, stretching and yawning.

  “Ah, you have awoken,” Arianwen approached the bed. Her kind, lined face with its curtain of silver-white hair looked down at September. “You slept well.”

  September realised that she felt thoroughly refreshed and eager to see what the day had in store. Her muscles felt taut and ready for exercise. She was quite surprised as she recalled her tears of the previous evening.

  “Yes, I did, thank you. Is it late?”

  “Well the Sun has been up for a couple of hours, but no, you are not late. There are many things for the people to do to rebuild our village but for you there is just rest until we meet.”

  September felt an urge to go to the loo. She sat up and swung her legs off the bed.

  “I need to wash and um...”

  “Attend to your needs?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go out of the door and circle around the house to the left till you find a small wooden building. That is the lavatory. You will find all you need there.”

  September got to her feet and opened the door. The bright sunlight dazzled her at first but as her eyes adjusted she took in the sight of the village at work. Men and women hurried past Arianwen’s cottage carrying wooden posts and baskets; others were working on the ruined huts, removing timbers and thatch. Many of the people looked at her as she emerged from the hut. They smiled at her but seemed to understand that she was not ready for conversation. They resumed their errands or jobs. The day was warm and September felt beads of sweat under her linen dress. She followed the directions and found the washroom.

  Inside there was a wooden box with something resembling a toilet seat over it. There was a supply of tufts of grass in a basket beside it. There was also a washbasin and a stand holding jugs of water and a small stove with a kettle of water warming on it that made the temperature inside quite stifling. September couldn’t see any way of locking the door, so finally gave up in desperation, hauled up her dress and sat on the loo. Having relieved herself and got over the experience of wiping herself with handfuls of grass she considered how she should wash herself. It was obviously a communal washroom and anyone might come in, but she felt sticky and needed a shower. At home she was nervous of taking off her clothes and showing her rolls of blubber to other people but here she felt different. She had a confidence that she did not feel at home so she stood up and pulled the linen dress over her head. If anyone came in now it was tough. She poured the hot water from the kettle into the basin and refilled it with cold water from one of the jugs. She added cold water until the temperature felt right and began splashing water onto herself. There was a bar of hard grey soap beside the basin. September expected it to be useless but it lathered easily and gave off an aroma of the woodland. She noticed that the floor was made of earthenware tiles laid so that the water she poured over herself drained into a gulley that ran out of the washroom. At last September felt clean.

  While she dried herself on the soft woollen towels that she found hanging next to the stove she puzzled over her body. It was her, but not her. She still had her birthmark; the red, crescent-shaped mark on her right hip. Her muscles and breasts were firmer than usual, her skin more taut, there was no spare hanging flesh, and of course her hair was much longer than back home. She hadn’t had waves of white hair over her shoulders and down her back since she was a littl
e girl. Without a mirror she was not sure what she looked like but she imagined that she must look quite striking. It was as if her body was tuned and ready for the purpose that Berddig and the Mordeyrn had spoken of but which she could only guess at. She took the pendant in her hands and opened it up. The starstone was transparent but dark. She held it up to her eye and looked into it. Tiny lights flashed and moved but she could see no image. She closed it up and let it fall between her breasts. She pulled the dress over her head and felt clean and comfortable. The dress itself though was annoying. She was not used to such a long and loose garment that tripped her up. She returned to the house and opened the door to welcoming smells.

  “Do you feel better?” Arianwen asked.

  “Yes, but what about replacing the jugs of water?”

  “Oh don’t worry. Attending to the lavatory is one of the jobs we take turns to carry out. Someone will be in there very soon checking on what needs to be done. Are you ready for some breakfast?”

  “Oh, yes please.” September realised that it had been at her birthday party the previous evening that she had last eaten. That seemed so long ago and far away. She looked on hungrily as Arianwen placed bread and cheese and poached eggs on a wooden plate and handed it to her. Briefly she remembered her diet but the food looked so tasty and satisfying that she gobbled it up quickly. She saw Arianwen looking at her with a smile on her face.

  “You certainly were hungry, Ember, would you like some fruit now?” She offered a bowl filled to overflowing with strawberries, raspberries, oranges and other fruits that September didn’t recognise. She took a selection, relishing their varied sweet, juicy flavours. There was a cup of the fresh water to wash it down and September, sitting in a chair felt full and satisfied. She fingered the shapeless dress.

  “Do I have to wear this?” she asked.

  Arianwen looked confused, “What else would you wear? All women wear similar dresses.”

  “I’m used to shorter, lighter, skirts and blouses, and trousers.”

 

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