The Prince of Powys

by Cornelia Amiri

  Leri turned to Carthann. “Did you hear of our adventure?”

  “I was told you two took ill in the yard and your dresses were soiled.” Carthann leaned toward Leri. “What happened?”

  “Nothing to worry over, my Queen.” Leri pushed her hair behind her ear. “We ruined our dresses while we were in the tombs.”

  “We weren’t ill. It was merely the dust which made us cough.” Branda reached for her cup to ease her hammering heart as she recalled the cloud of black bats that swooped over her head.

  “The tombs?” Carthann raised her eyebrows inquiringly.

  “No one should be in the tombs!” Elisedd’s face turned red.

  “It’s due to Branda’s dream.” Leri’s eyes held a mysterious glint.

  All faces turned toward the Saxon Princess, who pushed a spoonful of stewed lamb and cabbage into her mouth. She chewed rapidly then swallowed. “Yes, I had a dream.” Why are they staring at me? she thought as she gulped her mead. “A giant head with no body told me his name was Bran and beseeched me to find the treasure hidden here.” She clunked down her cup of mead. “’That is all.”

  “God Bran appeared in your dream?” Carthann laid her spoon down. “Did you speak to Neilyn of this?”

  “Neilyn listened to me.” Branda was still amazed by that, considering the way he was usually so dismissive to everything she said.

  “I went with her. Neilyn said we could search the tombs,” Leri added, rapidly.

  “Why would he say that?” Elisedd leaned his elbow upon the table.

  “Be it the gods beckoned her on a quest.” Leri shrugged. “She has to do Bran’s bidding.”

  “What did you find?” Brochfael rubbed his firm chin.

  “Nothing.” Leri glanced from her husband to Carthann then Elisedd. “We cannot move the large standing stones.”

  “We must have help,” Branda pointed out. “There is a power in the tombs. I can feel it.”

  “I cannot send my men to look for treasure because you had a dream.” Elisedd leaned back in the heavy oak chair.

  “You won’t have to, Father. I will escort them.” Brochfael nodded with an upward tilt of his head.

  “Thank you, my husband.” Leri flashed him a warm smile.

  “My thanks.” Branda held up all the fingers of one hand except for her thumb and pinkie. “Three is good, a favored number.”

  “What treasure do you hope to find?” Carthann took a sip from her silver goblet.

  “I know not.” Branda inhaled. “I had thought the Grail, but Neilyn said neither the Grail nor the magic cauldron is at Dinas Bran. He does not believe the Grail exists and says the cauldron was destroyed in Bran’s last battle.” Who knows what this Celt god has me searching for, she thought as she took another gulp of ale.

  “This is true,” said Elisedd. “I know not what treasure the gods would want you to find.”

  “Indeed, but it is most interesting.” Carthann adjusted the thick gold torque at her neck.

  “You had quite an adventure.” Elisedd clear his throat. “First the daffodils and now a god’s treasure.”

  “Elisedd, don’t go down to that tomb.” Carthann shook her head.

  “Why not?” He looked at his wife askance. “How did you know I was thinking of joining them?”

  “It’s something you would do, but it is not healthy for you,” Carthann scolded.

  “Woman, I am a warrior. I do what I please.” He threw his shoulders back.

  “We will see about that.” Carthann sipped her cup of mead.

  Leri leaned over to Branda and whispered, “I will not return to the sunroom. Rather, I will spend the night in my husband’s chamber. We will meet you by the entrance to the tombs tomorrow at sunrise.”

  “Yes, of course. I will see you there.”

  Leri and Brochfael excused themselves from the table, and then Carthann walked Branda to the door of the sunroom.

  Carthann smiled at Branda. “Do you miss Blaise?”

  “Yes.” She tilted her head back. “I dreamed of him today.”

  “I see.” Carthann looked at her intently. “What did Bran promise you if you find this treasure?”

  “How did you know?” Her lips remained parted after she spoke.

  “I know.” Carthann crossed her arms.

  “He said this treasure is part of my fate and if I find it I can stay in Dinas Bran, where I belong.”

  “So the gods want you to stay in Dinas Bran.” Carthann relaxed her shoulders and arms. “It’s good. I thought you belonged here. I wish you luck in recovering this truly priceless treasure, Princess.”

  “My thanks, Lady Carthann.” Branda tilted her head back and with a nod, said, “I do want to stay here.” She smiled and entered the sunroom.

  Since I slept today I probably won’t sleep well tonight, she thought as she picked up her embroidery of daffodils and sat on the bed, but as she pulled the needle to and fro she was soon overcome with the haze of slumber. Tossing the embroidery aside, she lay down, pulled the coverlet over her and drifted into a dream of Blaise. She promised to find the treasure if he returned home as fast as he could.

  * * * *

  The next morning, dressed in an old tunic and a pair of braies, Branda sat on the corner of the wishing well to dangle her feet. The chirps of the larks resounded in the air scented with daffodils, foxglove, and dew-kissed heather.

  She gazed through the low-hanging mist to wave at Brochfael and Leri. “A merry morning to you. It’s a beautiful day. It seems a shame to go down into the dank, dark tombs.”

  “Yes, but you have to find the treasure.” Leri‘s face spread into an enthusiastic smile.

  “Yes, and fast, before Blaise returns.” She eased off the well and followed Leri and Brochfael as he rubbed flint and steel together, lighting the firebrands mounted on the wall while he walked down the stone-cut steps.

  He grabbed a torch and headed into an open area faced by blocking stones of various shapes. The three coughed as ancient dust clogged the back of their throats.

  Brochfael slipped between a space where two of the large stones didn’t meet. “Watch your step here,” he called back to Leri and Branda.

  “We know,” they retorted in unison as they jumped down to the stone-covered floor, surrounded by standing stones.

  As she entered the long passageway, Branda moved to the head of the trio and led them to the north tomb where the massive stone had fallen.

  “Brochfael, I think you need to bring the torch over here.” She knelt in the dirt and looked at the spiral and curvilinear patterns carved on the gray stone. When her gaze reached the edge of the long stone, she felt a jolt of excitement in her chest. “Look, these are different!” She traced the designs with her finger. “These markings are deeper than the others.”

  Leri leaned in to get a better view. “Made by a different instrument?”

  “I think so.” Branda nibbled her bottom lip. She could hardly wait for them to confirm the amazing find, the first clue to the treasure.

  “Could it be?” Brochfael bent down closer to examine the engraved tracery. “Mayhap these carvings are older?” He touched one of the markings.

  Branda ran her fingers over the engraving of a head of a man with his mouth open as if speaking. “It is Bran’s head—cleaved from his body and still speaking.” She pointed to a square shape with a doorway cut into the bottom and a symbol of a sword on top. “This looks like an entrance way.”

  Brochfael bobbed his head. “Bran is telling us to enter here.”

  “Wait, there is one more, but it’s hard to make out.” Branda squinted her eyes and peered closer. “It looks like a hand.”

  “Nuada!” Brochfael widened his eyes and gleamed with excitement.

  “Nuada of the sl
iver hand—an Irish King of the Tuatha De Danann.” Leri spoke in a rapt tone, just above a whisper.

  Brochfael stood up with a jolt and swung toward Leri. “Bran buried something of Nuada’s in this tomb.”

  Leri and Branda climbed to their feet. They all stared at the pile of small stones blocking the entrance.

  “I will take care of this.” Brochfael pulled the rocks out one by one.

  “Hasten, Brochfael!” Branda felt like thousands of tiny bubbles were popping inside her. “Hasten, oh hasten!”

  The entrance above the fallen stone was large enough to slide in headfirst. Branda crouched down and slipped inside with ease. She jumped to the dirt floor and landed on her feet with a loud thump. Leri tumbled in after her. It was pitch black. Brochfael handed Leri the torch, then pushed himself through the small entrance. Branda held the flame as Leri shook the dirt off her braies. No more than ten men could stand in this small chamber but she sensed it should be larger. Something wasn’t right.

  Holding the firebrand above the wall of rocks, Branda looked down at the floor of the tomb, which was strewn with human bones. In the cramped, musky area where they stood, she found nothing but a boulder. Holding the torch to the large white rock, she examined the faded line drawings of animal heads.

  Brochfael reached out and patted its smooth, hard surface. “Symbols of power; warning of a curse. The boulder cannot be moved.”

  A black creature crawled toward her, and she felt a shuddering jolt shoot through her body. She let out a piercing scream and leapt back.

  Leri grabbed Branda and shrieked, “What is it?”

  “A spider.” Branda panted, trying to catch her breath. She broke out in nervous laughter upon realizing she had been spooked by something so trivial. Bats and rats were one thing, but she could handle a bug or two.

  Leri swatted the hanging web and the spider jumped instantly to the dirt.

  “Are you all right?” Brochfael took the torch from Branda and checked the chamber out thoroughly.

  “Why would this god, this Bran, have me look for a treasure if he didn’t want me to find it?” Branda sighed in exasperation as she folded her arms across her chest.

  “The gods test your bravery.” Brochfael rubbed his chin. “God Bran wants you to find the treasure but he doesn’t mean for it to be easy.”

  “We cannot move the boulder.” Leri flung her arms in the air.

  “We need a board.” Brochfael arched his eyebrows. “For a lever. Like a catapult,” he said slowly as he looked at the women.

  “Why did you not say so?” Leri rolled her eyes upward. ”I know what a lever is.”

  “Brochfael, go. Get a lever. We must find out what is under the rock.” Branda raised her chin. “I am on a quest.”

  He shook his head. “You two wait here. Leri, study the carvings so you can tell me what the ancient ones were trying to tell us.”

  As he climbed out of the tomb, Leri and Branda knelt beside the boulder and ran their fingers slowly across the carved images.

  “Look; in the center is an eye.” Branda touched the curly drawing.

  “The eye of a dragon. It means there is power here.”

  Branda pointed to another engraving. “These look like wings.”

  “Yes. Each beast surrounding the dragon’s eye has wings. They are birds.” Leri pointed to one. “An eagle.” She touched another. “A crow.” She ran her finger down the third. “And a raven.”

  “The raven is closer to the eye than the others.” Branda nibbled on her fingernails.

  Leri nodded her head. “The raven, like the crow and eagle, symbolize gods and goddesses of death, but the raven is Bran’s symbol. The carvings warn us against trying to take his power. The gods protect whatever is buried beneath this rock.”

  “So, there is a powerful relic—something magical—buried here but if we take it we will die?” Branda let out an exasperated sigh. “Yet Brochfael said Bran means only to test me.”

  “Yes, but tests of the gods are hard.” Leri clasped her hands. “You must keep your wits about you while on this quest. Yet, it warns only. No one but the pure of heart can claim a relic of Bran’s power. Whoever finds this magic treasure and remains alive and whole has met the god’s test.”

  Branda rubbed her brow as she gazed at the lines of swirling feathers that made up the three birds. Her musings were interrupted by Brochfael when he pushed a wooden block into the chamber. She jumped as it struck the ground with a loud thud. Her heart sped up and then settled down when he crawled into the tomb. Before she could catch her breath, he stood and pulled through a long board held by two guards on the other side of the tomb.

  The guards also crawled through the tight entrance into the chamber. The rough-hewn men nodded at the princesses then greeted them with, “M’lady.”

  Branda and Leri bobbed their heads in return as they stood.

  “This is the lever?” Brochfael set the wooden block down. The guards lay the board on top. He slid one end beneath the boulder and dug up the dirt until it was half-way under. He stood and brushed off his braies.

  “Will it work?” Branda rested one hand on her hip.

  “Watch.” He stepped onto the far end of the board. Slowly, the plank lifted the boulder and dropped it with a crashing wallop, a little way from the original spot.

  Leri cupped her chest and closed her eyes as Brochfael jumped off the plank right before it fell with a loud thump.

  “It looks like fun,” Branda’s tone reflected her growing anticipation of finding the treasure.

  “You can do it next time, Princess.” Brochfael grinned but the upturned smile transformed into an open-mouthed look of shock as he stared at what had been underneath the huge rock.

  All five of them gulped at the same time.

  A nest of writhing, zigzag-striped adders, brown and black, as well as two-toned gray snakes aimed their flat heads in the trio’s direction. Leri, Branda and Brochfael stepped back as forty or more vipers slinked toward those who had disturbed them.

  Leri let out a piercing scream as adders crawled over her feet. Branda held her torch tighter and huddled against the wall of the tomb. The two guards backed up against the tomb’s wall beside the Princess.

  “Back!” Brochfael yelled at Leri.

  She stepped back until she was beside Branda.

  One of the adders was a span away from Branda’s feet. She stooped down, held the flaming torch to the squirming vipers and set them afire. She and Leri turned toward the wall as they coughed from the smoke and gagging odor of flaming adders. Brochfael and the two guards choked on the smoke as they drew out their swords and clubbed the vipers. The men tried to catch their breath while more adders crept toward them. Leri and Branda stepped forward and set more adders on fire. Finally, the vipers were slaughtered. Burnt and mutilated dead snakes scattered the chamber floor.

  Brochfael coughed as he scraped the hilt end of his sword in the dirt trying to see if anything lay beneath. Branda and Leri wrapped their arms around each other.

  Brochfael’s sword clanked against something.

  “It sounds like rock.” He knelt down and began digging.

  The two guards joined him.

  “Will you look at that,” one of the guards said when he uncovered a long box, carved out of stone with a lid engraved in ogham symbols.

  Leri held the torch as she read the ancient Druid script. “The man who steals this sword shall lose both his hands and no physician will be able to stifle the endless pain.”

  “Well, that’s morbid,” said one of the guards.

  “God’s teeth!” Branda shuddered.

  “Should we not open it?” Leri shrugged.

  “Do you think there are adders inside?” Branda asked.

  “I think this box holds something m
ore deadly than adders.” Brochfael grunted as he lifted the long, heavy box and set it on the ground between the bodies of the dead vipers. A heavy chain was wrapped around it with a lock. “Stand back.” He pulled his sword from its sheath.

  “Beware, Brochfael,” Leri yelled out as she and Branda moved close together.

  He swung the sword down in strong whacks until he broke the lock off. He unraveled the chains and pried the box open with the tip of his sword. The moment the lid fell off it tripped the cord attached to it and caused a board to rise with an axe blade mounted upright on it. That triggered another cord which propelled the deadly blade to swing side to side. All five of them gasped in unison.

  Brochfael took a deep breath. “The box was rigged, meant to sever the hands of anyone who opened it.”

  Leri exhaled. “Brochfael, thank the gods you are unscathed.”

  Branda held her hand over her pounding heart. Brochfael cut the rigging with his sword and the axe blade and the board it was mounted on dropped to the dirt. They all huddled around the box. She held out the torch and peered down.

  She saw a snake in the open box. “A viper!” She jumped back.

  Brochfael took the torch from her and held it to the box. “It’s a sheath encasing a hilted sword. Look, it’s engraved with two intertwined snakes.”

  The treasure! Branda stepped forward and lifted the sheath from the stone box. She studied the circular patterns inscribed on the bronze hilt. She held her breath as she slowly drew forth the long sword. It made a scratching sound that got her attention like a drum heralding an important event.

  The hilt was heavy, yet smooth and warm. Comforting. She wrapped her fingers around the sword. Many great men had held this blade. She was mesmerized and couldn’t tear her gaze away, couldn’t let go.

  “Let me see it.” There was a faint tremor in Brochfael’s voice.

  She paused, closed her eyes, and mustered her composure so she could let go and give it to him.

  He sliced the dusty air with the long silver blade. “God’s teeth. The old weapon has perfect balance. I have never handled its like.”

  The two guards let out a rapt sigh.