“We have been discussing how the Cludydd’s presence in Gwlad has itself attracted the attention of the Adwyth and called forth the manifestations that we have witnessed. The Mordeyrn requested that we prepare a shield that will make the Cludydd all but invisible to the evil. It has been a difficult task and I wish it had been ready for the Cludydd’s arrival, but Padarn has it now.”
The old lead-bearer got to his feet and went into the shadows at the walls of the cottage. He returned with a cloth draped over his arms. He walked right up to September and laid it in her lap.
“It is my pleasure to give you this cloak, Cludydd. Wear it at all times and you will disappear from the Malevolence’s perception.”
September looked at the silver-grey cloak in her arms. It was made of tiny links of metal each one sparkling in the light of the fire.
“What is it made from?” September asked.
“A mixture of plwm and alcam,” Padarn replied, now returned to his seat, “Plwm provides the shielding from the evil energies and indeed reflects all light and heat and repels forces. The alcam strengthens and reinforces the powers. Berddig and I have worked long to create the ideal combination and to channel the powers of the metals and planets. Casting the rings and fashioning them into this garment also took our apprentices a great deal of time.”
“Put it on. Let’s see it.” Berddig said.
September stood up letting the folds of the cloak fall out. Plwm and alcam, lead and tin. Mixtures of metals. September vaguely recalled chemistry lessons at school. Wasn’t the solder used by electricians a mixture of tin and lead? Or was that zinc and lead? She wasn’t sure. But solder was a very soft metal wasn’t it? There were other mixtures of metals, weren’t there? Her brain hurt from the effort of remembering lessons poorly learned. Now she wished she had listened more carefully or had more talent for recalling facts. A memory came to her of Mother taking her around some old house. There were lots of silver plates displayed on shelves; well September had thought they were silver, but Mother seemed to know a lot more. They were made of pewter she said, an alloy of tin and lead.
Pewter. That was it. But an alloy of tin and lead should be heavy, surely. She could barely feel the cloak in her arms. Each link was so tiny and thin that the total amount of metal making up the cloak was very small indeed. She unfolded it and threw it over her shoulders. It covered her from neck to feet, and there was a hood that she pulled up over her head. She could barely feel it.
Arianwen and Catrin clapped their hands.
“It is wonderful,” Arianwen said, “It shimmers and catches the light so much that your shape can hardly be made out.”
“It is so light,” September said, “I can’t believe that it’s made out of tin and lead.”
“Berddig and Padarn are very skilled bearers of alcam and plwm,” Catrin pointed out.
“It is as well that it is light and easy to wear,” Berddig said, “as you must wear it at all times to stay out of the Malevolence’s focus.”
“There won’t be any more attacks by those monsters?” September asked.
“Well, I can’t promise that you won’t meet any manifestations of evil on your way but they will not be drawn to you.”
“Won’t it be hot wearing this heavy dress and the cloak?” September asked again.
“I’ll find more suitable clothes for you to travel in,” Arianwen said.
“And the cloak will keep the heat of the Sun off you,” Padarn added.
September sat down again fascinated by the patterns of light made in the folds of the metal fabric.
Catrin stood up, crossed to where September sat and knelt at her feet.
“Berddig and Padarn have given you their gift. This is mine,” she opened a leather pouch slung over her shoulder and took out a small, shiny, orange object. She held it up for September to hold. September took it and examined it. It was made of copper shaped into a small curved horn. It was perfectly smooth. September admired the curves and the colour.
“Thank you,” she said, “but what is it?”
“A speaking horn. By the power of efyddyn you are linked to anyone else who possesses one. You speak at this end,” Catrin indicated the narrow end with a mouthpiece like a trumpet, “and listen at the other end.” September held the copper instrument to her face and found that when the mouthpiece was against her lips the open end of the horn was next to her right ear.
September searched the horn for controls, “How do I connect it to the person I want to speak to?”
“Just speak the name of the person and they will hear you – if they have their horn with them.”
“Thank you,” September said, “Will I be able to speak to all of you when we are travelling?”
Berddig laughed, “I’m afraid not, these speaking horns are very special. Few have been made.”
“I have the only other one in the village,” Catrin said.
September held the horn out to her.
“If it is so precious surely the village needs it?”
“We have discussed it,” Arianwen said, “we all agree that you need it to communicate with the Mordeyrn on your journey. It will take you many weeks and the Mordeyrn will be able to help you along the way.”
“He has one of these things?”
“Yes. As Mordeyrn and Prif-cludydd he has to communicate with people across Gwlad.”
“You’ve spoken to him since I arrived?”
“Briefly. He is travelling as fast as he can so has little time to talk. He suggested you follow him as soon as you can.”
“Take the horn,” Berddig encouraged September, “it will be of use to you.”
“Thank you. You are so kind and I’m worried about leaving you without a way of contacting each other.”
“We’ll manage,” Padarn said, “One is all we need to find out what is going wrong in the world.”
September replaced the horn in its pouch and rested it in her lap thinking that it was the strangest mobile phone she’d come across.
“Now you might think that Tudfwlch is my gift to you,” Iorwerth guffawed, and clapped the youth on his back almost knocking him from the stool he was sitting on, “You look after the Cludydd, lad.”
Tudfwlch recovered, “Of course. It’s an honour to be the Cludydd’s protector,” he winked at September, “it will be an adventure won’t it.”
“I’m not sure.” September had not decided if she was looking forward to the journey even with the cloak to protect her and the horn to keep her in touch.
“Ah-hm,” Iorwerth tried to regain their attention, “but here there is something just for you.” He produced, from where September wasn’t quite sure, a bundle of cloth. He unrolled it and there in his hands lay a knife in a leather holster. September stared at the weapon. She estimated the blade to be about twenty centimetres long and five wide.
“Take it, girl, it’s yours,” the iron bearer insisted.
Gingerly, September lifted the leather-bound handle and held it in her hand. Carefully she slid the cover off the blade. The knife was heavy but she realised that it was exceptionally well balanced. Gripping it firmly the blade seemed to be an extension of her hand. She admired the surface of the blade which had a blue sheen. The edge looked so sharp she was afraid to even touch it.
“I know you have the Maengolauseren to defend yourself with but everyone needs a good sharp knife when they’re travelling.” Iorwerth said.
“It’s wonderful,” September said, astounded by the functional beauty of the knife, “Did you make it?”
Iorwerth raised his head proudly, “Yes, forged in my own fire. There’s no sharper blade on this stretch of the Southern River. And it possesses the power of haearn. It will slice through any manifestation of the Malevolence.”
September carefully pushed the blade back into its scabbard.
“Thank you,” she said, resting the knife with the speaking horn in her lap.
“You already have my gift,” Arianwen said.
> “I do?”
“Yes, it’s around your neck. The chain and locket which holds your starstone.”
September drew the ornate silver pendant from inside her dress.
“You made this?”
“I did. When the Mordeyrn said he was going to summon the Cludydd o Maengolauseren he said such a thing would be needed and so I made it ready for your appearance.”
“Thank you, it’s beautiful.” September caressed the heavy locket.
“And don’t forget that as it is made from arian it has its own powers. It is not just a holder for the starstone.”
“Powers?”
“It can heal injuries and relieve ill health. Just hold it against the affected part.”
“Thank you Arianwen. I’ll treasure it.” September felt quite overcome by all the kindness that she had received. There were tears in her eyes.
“You’re crying,” Arianwen said.
“I’m sorry,” September sobbed, “I should be happy with all these presents. You’ve been so kind to me but I know you are expecting me to do amazing things and I don’t think I can. I’m just a silly, fat girl back home who doesn’t do anything special.”
Arianwen placed her arms around September’s shoulders and leaned forward to hug her.
“Now, child. We know you are inexperienced and confused. You have been plucked from your own world which we have little knowledge of. We can understand how you feel but those feelings will pass. You are not silly. The ability to bear the Maengolauseren does not rest on whether you are fat or slim.”
“Do not be afraid,” Iorwerth said, rising to his feet and clenching his fists, “The prophecies say that a new Cludydd will appear when the Malevolence grows in strength and the bearer of the starstone will have the power to defeat the evil.”
“What Iorwerth means,” Catrin said in a more soothing voice, “is that we have faith in you and that the Maengolauseren will guide and protect you.”
“That’s correct,” Padarn added, “and the time will come soon, when you will learn the powers of the starstone and no longer have need of us or any other citizen of the Land to assist you.”
September sniffed. She still had no idea what she was supposed to do but the support and tender words of the cludyddau cheered her. She smiled thinly.
“Thank you. I will try to be what you want me to be.”
“We are sure you will, Cludydd,” Arianwen said resuming her seat.
“Now,” Berddig said, as if returning to the business of the evening, “Tudfwlch has his orders to protect you. Cynddylig will guide you to the Arsyllfa. Your boat has been prepared and stocked with all that you will need for your journey. Of course, food and water you will have to collect as you travel but you will pass other villages and they will offer you assistance. It is just your other needs that we must see to.”
It seemed that a lot had been going on that September did not know about. She felt a bit hassled.
“I don’t want to travel wearing these long dresses,” she said, repeating herself, sure that a bit of irritation had entered her voice.
“Don’t worry,” soothed Arianwen, “you will have the light clothes that you need for the journey along the river, but you will need sturdier clothes and shoes for when you reach the Bryn am Seren.”
A moan came from the bed set against the wall of the house. Arianwen ran to Eluned.
“Ceffyl dwr. Cludydd,” Eluned’s voice was weak.
“It’s all right, Eluned. The Ceffyl dwr is gone,” Arianwen rested a hand on Eluned’s forehead.
“The Cludydd, she’s in danger,” Eluned spoke more strongly. September got up, placed the knife and horn on the seat and ran to the side of Eluned’s bed.
“I’m here, Eluned. I’m safe. You’re back in the village.”
Eluned’s eyes opened. She saw September and tried to sit up. Pain made her wince and she fell back on to the mattress.
“Rest my dear,” Arianwen said, “your back is injured. You need to lie still.”
Eluned puffed out a breath and seemed to awaken. She looked up into Arianwen’s gentle face and then saw September looking worried.
“Ah, you are safe. I’m glad,” she sighed, “what happened to me?”
“You dived into the lake and became the dolphin, then threw yourself at the horse monster,” September explained, “but it shook you off.” She described briefly how the horse had been destroyed and how the villagers had come to rescue them.
“Thank you, September. You saved my life.”
“No, you saved me. If I hadn’t been frozen with fear I could have blown up that stupid horse and you wouldn’t have got hurt.”
Eluned looked confused.
Arianwen rubbed her silver amulet against Eluned’s forehead.
“Sleep now my dear and you will recover soon.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow before I leave,” September said.
“Ah, your journey,” Eluned said, struggling to keep her eyes open as Arianwen’s soothing began to take effect, “I must give you my gift.” She tried to raise her arm to her neck, the effort giving her obvious pain. She gripped the phial of mercury on her necklace, “Please, take this.”
Arianwen reached under her neck and pulled the leather thong over her head. Painfully Eluned lifted her hand holding the phial towards September.
“I can’t,” September said.
“It’s for you.”
“But how can I use it? I can’t change into a tiger or a dolphin. What did you call it – trawsffurfio. You said you were born with the skill and trained for years.”
“No, you won’t become another creature but it will change you and any material it’s mixed with – make hard metals soft, heavy things float – anything you wish. I want you to have it, to remember me on your journey.”
September reached out and took the small crystal tube from Eluned’s hand. It was cold and although just a couple of centimetres long felt heavy in her hand. Eluned’s head sank back against the cushions, her eyes closed and her breathing became gentle and even.
“She will sleep well now. Perhaps tomorrow she will be able to sit up.” Arianwen said.
“Will she get back to how she was? I mean, be able to change and things?” September asked.
“Oh, yes. She’ll soon be leaping about and swimming. She’s a strong young woman. Like you, September.”
With no pockets in her dress or the cloak, September put the necklace bearing the phial of mercury around her neck then felt she had to get away for a moment, be on her own.
“Excuse me, I need the loo,” she turned away from Arianwen and ducked out of the door. It was dark outside and the village was quiet except for the murmur of conversation behind her. The Moon was just rising above the trees, almost, but not quite full. I’ve been here a whole day, she thought. She took out the pendant from under her dress and the cloak, undid the clasps and opened it up. She held the starstone up to her eye. It was clear and dark. She lined it up with the Moon and saw the image slide into view, but that was all. No rush of light, no disorienting shift. She lowered it. The Land and the village were still around her. Apparently it was her destiny to stay and carry out whatever the task was before her. She closed the locket, hiding the stone from view and hid it once again inside the cloak. She hoped that Padarn was correct and that the cloak would prevent the creatures of the Malevolence from finding her.
She hurried to the washroom and then returned to Arianwen’s cottage. The other cludyddau, Tudfwlch and Cynddylig, were on their feet and saying farewell.
“Goodnight, girl,” Cynddylig growled. “Be ready to travel come morning.”
“Sleep well,” Tudfwlch said as he skipped out of the door. The others wished her a pleasant night and left. Arianwen was busy piling up the empty wooden dishes.
“I’m afraid it’s the chairs or the ground for both of us tonight,” she said.
September realised that she was exhausted after the long day and all the confusion and strange ha
ppenings. She lifted the knife and horn from where she had left them and held them to her chest.
“I think I could sleep anywhere,” she said.
Arianwen laid cushions around the fire and brought blankets.
September laid herself down, placed her gifts under a pillow and curled up with the silver cloak wrapped around her. Despite the strange bed she felt her eyes closing moments later.
11
There was shouting and screaming, the sound of feet running, of destruction. Was she dreaming? September opened her eyes. She was awake but it was dark. The dying embers of the fire provided no illumination of the hut. The noises were real. Outside, people were panicking, running hither and thither. Arianwen stirred beside her and was on her feet immediately.
“The Malevolence, it must be the Malevolence,” she said. “What form of evil is attacking us now?” Barely had she spoken than there was a hammering on the wooden door and a young man entered brandishing a short iron sword.
“Pardon, Cludydd,” he said, wild eyed and breathless, “Iorwerth sent me,”
“Calm down, Meuryn, tell us the news. What is happening?” Arianwen replied.
“The village is being attacked, Cludydd.”
“I gathered that. By what, where?”
“Gwyllian, three or four of them, all over the village.”
“Gwyllian?” September asked. What were they?
“Dark spirits in the form of old women not long in the grave,” Arianwen said.
“Dead people? Like zombies?” September said, shivering and scared.
“I do not know the word zombie, but Gwyllian are not dead, for they have never lived.”
“But, what can they do?”
“They are manifestations of earth. Not the soil that brings forth new growth but the decay and decomposition of the cesspit. Anything and anyone that they touch turns to decrepitude. You must not get within their reach.”
The noises outside the cottage were continuing. People were running from the hideous creatures. There was a distant sound as if of thunder or a wall crashing to the ground.
“What is Iorwerth doing?” Arianwen asked.
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