For Amber, because you like
listening to my stories,
from Fiona.
For Cousin Thelma, because you
told me stories to shorten the way,
from Ed.
(I especially remember the story
about the worms in the rain)
CONTENTS
Title
Dedication
Map: The Land of the Stories
Introduction
1 Two Dragons
2 Two Giants
3 Three Tasks
4 Three Wishes
5 The Oldest Animals in the World
6 Hen Wen the Pig
7 The Afanc
8 Another Dragon
9 Two More Giants
10 Dancing with the Fairies
11 Making Music for the Fairies
12 Six and Four are Ten
13 Bella Fawr
14 The Prince’s Wizard
15 The King of the Giants
16 King March
17 The Cloak of Kings’ Beards
18 King Arthur’s Horse
19 Branwen’s Bird
20 The Tale of Taliesin
Thanks
About the Author and Illustrator
Copyright
THE LAND OF THE STORIES
The numbers on the map are the numbers of the stories in this book. They show you where to find the places which are important in the stories. Some numbers are on the map twice, because there are two important places in that story. When place names are very different in Welsh and English, both are given.
1
Two Dragons
Dinas Emrys
2
Two Giants
Cadair Bronwen & Cadair Idris
3
Three Tasks
Betws Gwerful Goch
4
Three Wishes
Ynys Llanddwyn / Llanddwyn Island
5
The Oldest Animals
Cwm Cowlyd
6
Hen Wen the Pig
Maen Du / Black Stone, Aber Menai Straits
7
The Afanc
Betws-y-Coed
8
Another Dragon
Denbigh
9
Two More Giants
Dinas Dinlle
10
Dancing with the Fairies
Minera
11
Making Music for the Fairies
Mynydd Hiraethog / Denbigh Moors
12
Six and Four are Ten
Henllan
13
Bella Fawr
Denbigh
14
The Prince’s Wizard
Llanrwst
15
The King of the Giants
Wrexham
16
King March
Castellmarch
17
The Cloak of King’s Beards
Yr Wyddfa / Mount Snowdon
18
King Arthur’s Horse
Moel Arthur
19
Branwen’s Bird
Harlech & Aberffraw
20
The Tale of Taliesin
Llyˆn Tegid / Bala Lake
INTRODUCTION
Here are some of my favourite stories from North Wales. I hope you will like them too. They are folk tales and fairy tales – the kind of stories that nearly always begin ‘Once Upon a Time’ in English, ‘Amser maith yn ôl’ in Welsh.
Even though they aren’t true stories, most of them are set in real places in North Wales. If you know the places, or can visit them, I think the stories will really come alive for you.
I asked some friends aged between 5 and 11 years old to read some of the stories while I was writing this book. I wanted to be sure that young readers would like them. Here are some of the things they said:
Alex said,
‘Very exciting and strange …’
Mabel said,
‘This is a good book.’
Jonty and Llion said,
‘It wasn’t too hard to read.’
Millie and Connie said,
‘Very funny and good for children.
Well done!’
Aidan said,
‘I like how you use real places.’
William liked the first story in the book because it has a happy ending. Mia and Angel gave the same story a score of nine and a half out of ten. They said, ‘It would be good if there was a map for the locations.’
The map seemed like a really good idea, so Ed decided to make one to go with his beautiful drawings. We both hope you like his pictures and that they help you imagine the places and people in the stories.
These aren’t my stories. They are old, old tales and many people tell them. In this book I’ve told them in my own way, the way I would tell them if you and I were sitting by a campfire, or in my living room. If you like them, why don’t you tell them too? Tell them in your own way, in your own words. The great thing about these old, old stories is that no one can say to you, ‘You’re telling them wrong!’
Have fun reading this book,
and don’t forget to live happily ever after.
Fiona Collins
May 2016
1
TWO DRAGONS
There are many stories about the great wizard Merlin. This is one of my favourites.
When Merlin was a boy, his full name was Myrddin ap Emrys, and he grew up in Caerfyrddin, which in English is called Carmarthen. Its Welsh name means Merlin’s Castle. But Merlin had no castle there. In fact, he had no proper home.
His mother lived in a convent, with holy women who prayed all day and were not interested in children. And he had no father. Some people said his father was an evil spirit. Some said he was a good spirit. But Merlin didn’t know, and if his mother knew she didn’t tell him.
Merlin was not an ordinary boy, nor indeed a very happy one. Unkind people sometimes bully people who seem a bit different, and Merlin was very different, so he was often lonely or sad.
Although Merlin was still only young, he already had magic powers. So on the day that something strange began to happen, he knew what to do.
Some boys were playing with a ball, on the grass outside the city gate. Merlin wanted to join in, but the others wouldn’t let him. They shouted, ‘Go away, Merlin! You can’t play. You haven’t even got a father. Go away!’
Merlin knew it was no use arguing with them. He turned and went back through the city gate, back towards the convent where he lived with his mother and the silent sisters. But he hadn’t walked far when he realised he was not alone. Someone was following him, staying in the shadows; keeping him in sight, but keeping out of his sight.
Merlin knew, by his magic, that this was a king’s messenger, and that the king had sent the messenger to find a boy who never had a father. He knew why the king wanted such a boy, and he knew that he was the boy the king needed. So he wasn’t afraid. He let the messenger follow him to the gate of the convent. When the gatekeeper saw Merlin’s face through the bars on her window, she opened a little door in the gate and let him in, but she stopped the man who followed him, as Merlin knew she would.
‘Strangers may not enter this house,’ she said.
‘Lady, I am on a king’s quest and I carry a king’s ring to prove it.’
The messenger held up a ring with a large jewel set in it, and showed it to the gatekeeper through the bars on the window. ‘I have been sent to find a certain boy, and I believe that the boy who just went in is the one I am looking for.’
The old woman looked at the ring for a long
time. Slowly, as though she did not really want to, she opened the little door just wide enough for the messenger to squeeze inside.
‘Wait here, please,’ she said. ‘I will fetch the people you need to speak to.’
Merlin did not hear their conversation, but he knew how it would end. The nuns and his mother would agree to let him go to the king, waiting in the mountains of Snowdonia.
Sure enough, when the messenger rode out of the city and turned north, Merlin was sitting behind him on his great horse’s back. They rode through Wales until they came to the high mountains: Snowdonia, which in Welsh is called The Place of Eagles, Eryri.
The king was standing at the top of a hill. All around him were the ruins of a tower: tools that were scattered, stones that were shattered, wood that had clattered to the ground. Behind him stood seven wise men. They looked frightened. Day after day, the king had asked them, ‘Why does my tower keep falling down?’ The wise men did not know. But if you are a king’s wise man, you cannot tell him ‘I don’t know’. He won’t be very pleased! So the seven not-very-wise men had made up an answer to his question.
Merlin rode behind the messenger.
‘Your Majesty, you must find a boy who never had a father. You must kill him and bury his bones where you want to build your tower. Then your tower will stay strong. It will not fall down.’
They didn’t know if this was the right answer to his question. They didn’t care if it was the right answer. They thought it would be impossible for the king to find a boy who never had a father, so he would never know whether they were right or wrong.
But here was the messenger, and with him was a boy who never had a father … no wonder they looked frightened.
One person who didn’t look frightened was Merlin. He walked right up to the king. He looked straight at him. Then he said, ‘Your Majesty, I know why you have brought me here. But if you kill me and bury my bones, you will never find out why your tower keeps falling down. Ask your wise men what is under the ground here, and if they do not know, ask me, because I do.’
So the king turned to his wise men and asked them, ‘What is under the ground here?’
They looked at the king, they looked at each other, they looked at the ground. They didn’t know the answer, so they tried to guess, ‘Earth, Your Majesty? Stones? Worms?’
The king looked at Merlin. Merlin shook his head.
‘Your Majesty,’ he said, ‘just where you want to build your tower, there is an underground lake. If you don’t believe me, tell your workers to dig there. You will see if I am right.’
The king’s workers started to dig. It wasn’t long until their spades broke through the roof of a cave. In it there was an underground lake.
Merlin spoke to the king, ‘Your Majesty, ask your wise men what is under the lake, and if they do not know, ask me, because I do.’
So the king turned to his wise men and asked them, ‘What is under the lake?’
They looked at the king, they looked at each other, they looked at the water. They didn’t know the answer, so they tried to guess, ‘Mud, your Majesty? Weed? Fish?’
The king looked at Merlin. Merlin shook his head.
‘Your Majesty,’ he said, ‘under the lake, there is a great flat stone. If you don’t believe me, tell your workers to drain the water out of the lake. You will see if I am right.’
The king’s workers started to drain the water from the lake. Before long, the water was gone, and in the middle of the mud they all saw a great grey stone.
Merlin spoke to the king, ‘Your Majesty, ask your wise men what is under the stone, and if they do not know, ask me, because I do.’
So the king turned to his wise men and asked them, ‘What is under the stone?’
They looked at the king, they looked at each other, they looked at the stone. They didn’t know the answer. They just shook their heads.
The king turned to Merlin.
‘Your Majesty,’ he said, ‘under the stone, two dragons are curled up, fast asleep. All day they sleep, but at night they wake, and then they fight. Their battle destroys your tower each night. If you don’t believe me, tell your workers to lift the stone. You will see if I am right.’
They lifted the stone out of the mud, and found two small sleeping dragons, curled up like piglets. One was red, the other was white. When the stone was moved and the light shone on them, they woke up. They opened their eyes, turned their heads, and saw each other. Then their eyes flashed, their teeth gnashed and their claws crashed. They spread their wings and rose up out of the hole in the ground. As they flew, they grew, until they were huge fiery shapes above the heads of the king, his wise men and his workers. They all crouched down in fear.
Only Merlin stood tall, watching the dragons as they began to fight, turning and whirling in the air, tearing with their claws and blasting fire from their jaws.
Merlin shouted out, ‘Watch these dragons, and you will learn about the future! The red dragon is the dragon of Wales, and the white is the dragon of our enemies. They are fighting, and we will have to fight too. Sometimes it will seem as though the red dragon will win, and sometimes the white will be stronger. But even if the red dragon is wounded, she will not die. Look now, and you will see if I am right!’
They all turned their faces up to the sky, and watched the fight. Just as Merlin had said, sometimes the red dragon seemed to be winning, sometimes the white. The flames and smoke and noise were terrible! Then the white dragon gave a great slash with its claws, and the red one seemed to fall out of the sky. The white dragon spread its wings and flew away. Everyone looked for the red dragon. It was nowhere to be seen.
Merlin spoke again, ‘The red dragon is not dead, but she is wounded. She is the dragon of this land. Now she needs to rest and grow strong again. Then, when Wales really needs her, she will fly out and defend the land. It will not be in my lifetime, nor in yours, Your Majesty, but when she is needed, she will be there!’
Everyone stared at Merlin, and then at the hole in the ground where the dragons had slept for so long. ‘Now you can build your tower,’ said Merlin. ‘Nothing will disturb it.’
The red dragon of Wales.
Without waiting for a reply, he turned and went away down the hill.
Merlin’s red dragon is the dragon that we see on the flag of Wales. If you climb to the top of the hill where the two dragons slept, you will see a pool and the ruins of a tower. The hill is called Dinas Emrys.
Dinas Emrys is one of those places where the real world and the story world meet. In English, its name means Emrys’ Fortress, or maybe Emrys’ Castle. Who was Emrys? Go back to the beginning of this story and you will be reminded … and the names of places can remind us of the stories that happened there, long, long ago.
2
TWO GIANTS
Once upon a time, a long time ago, there were two huge friends. One was a giant called Idris, the other was a giantess called Bronwen. Bronwen lived in the hills called the Berwyns, near the river Dee, and Idris’ home was on the coast, because he loved the sea.
They didn’t see one another very often, because they lived far apart, and they missed each other. So one day Bronwen said, ‘Let’s each build a tower, so we can climb up and see each other and talk across the tops of the hills.’
Idris thought this was a really good idea, so they each chose a high place to build on.
They both made a good start on their towers, but the trouble was that they only had one hammer between the two of them. They had to share it by throwing it backwards and forwards. This worked well enough for a while, but soon Bronwen was getting on with her tower much faster than Idris. Idris was not happy about this, and began to get very grumpy.
‘Hey! You’re not sharing the hammer!’ he shouted to Bronwen.
‘Pardon? What did you say?’ asked Bronwen.
‘I said you’re not sharing the hammer!’ Idris repeated.
‘Sorry, I can’t hear you,’ called Bronwen, bashing away, with an
annoying smile on her lips.
‘I said I need the hammer!’ yelled Idris.
‘What?’ she yelled back.
‘I want the hammer!’ roared Idris.
‘Aren’t you going to say please?’ asked Bronwen.
This was too much for Idris, and Bronwen could see this. She thought she had better throw him the hammer, after all. She knew what his temper was like. But just to be annoying, she threw it short. Idris, his face like thunder, had to plod down from his tower to look for the hammer. No sooner had he stomped back up to his building site, hammer in hand, than Bronwen was calling for it once more.
Idris hurled the hammer with all his strength.
She went on teasing and pestering him until he lost his temper completely.
‘Keep the stupid hammer then!’ he yelled at her, hurling the hammer with all his strength in a long high arc. It crossed the Berwyns, flew right over Bronwen’s head, and disappeared behind her in the valley. It hit the ground with a great thump, leaving a big dent, which is still there today.
Without the hammer, neither of them could go on with their work. They went away and just left their half-finished towers. It wasn’t long before the towers fell down. Two great rocky heaps are all that is left today.
The one in the Berwyns is called Cadair Bronwen, Bronwen’s Chair. The other is the mountain Cadair Idris, above Dolgellau. People say that Idris sometimes comes back to Cadair Idris to sit in his chair, right on the top. Then he takes out his telescope and studies the stars.
Idris studies the stars.
3
THREE TASKS
Once upon a time there was a boy called Gareth who lived in a little village called Betws Gwerful Goch. He was an ordinary boy, and it was an ordinary village … except for the wicked wizard’s castle on the other side of the river.
North Wales Folk Tales for Children Page 1