by Lowri Thomas
‘See what?’ Gwyn whispered, alarmed at Taliesin’s sudden movement. Taliesin was looking into the sky. ‘I saw a streak of light, from the other Cerdd Carega nearby. Someone has just travelled through the Cerdd Carega from the Dell and then away … I must tell my father. Come.’
Gwyn’s heart beat quickened as they approached the stone. He could see the apprehension in the Druid’s eyes too but Bara had no such misgivings as she sat patiently at the foot of the stone waiting to go. ‘Take hold of my hands and do not let go.’ Taliesin said as he opened his hands to his companions. ‘Gwyn Morgan, you must hold Bara tightly.’ Gwyn nodded; he’d been through this before. He spiralled the lead around his fist before grabbing Bara’s collar securely, and then it began; the flash of blue-white, the terrible dragging sensation, the feeling of being drawn out, stretched and pulled, the sharp keening sound ripping at the ears: a whirlwind of ice and fire. When it stopped Gwyn’s knees buckled but he managed to stay upright. He felt sick, his skin prickled, but he was in much better shape than the Druid who was lying on the floor silently retching with his knees pulled to his chest. Bara wagged her tail happily and her tongue lolled out of the side of her mouth as she expectantly looked up at Gwyn for instruction.
‘Ah, Taliesin, it is good you have arrived,’ Elder Tomas said, waiting at the Reception Hall to greet them. ‘We were informed of your return.’ He looked down at the stricken Druid lying on the floor. ‘Oh dear, Brother Bryce, I believe the Cerdd Carega is not as painless as the mirrors, do you need help?’
‘No,’ Bryce wheezed, as he got to his knees, ‘I’ll be fine, thank you.’ He clutched his arms to his chest as he stood and with a small and painful looking bow he excused himself.
‘Gwyn Morgan?’ Elder Tomas turned his friendly face to Gwyn. ‘We are glad you are here, but I’m afraid I must deliver some terrible news,’ he said solemnly.
‘You’ve found Aunt Nerys.’
‘Indeed we may have, or at least what is left of her. I am sorry, my boy.’ Elder Tomas clasped his hands behind his back and signalled with his head for them to follow him. ‘It is terrible, just terrible … you will need to see if you can identify her, although the task seems impossible. There is however a scrap of material left, maybe you could … How insensitive of me, I must apologise.’ Elder Tomas tutted to himself. ‘You have suffered great loss and I’m afraid that I am too old and too thick skinned to have seen my error. I do apologise.’
‘No, no, it’s fine,’ Gwyn said, swallowing, ‘is she in a bad way? Her body I mean.’
‘I’m afraid so … perhaps it would be better if your father … ?’
‘Is he alright, my dad, is he okay?’ Gwyn asked eagerly.
Elder Tomas nodded. ‘He is, although he is still residing in Dduallt, something I’m sure we can remedy, but come, Lord Aeron himself wishes your company and as his new Councillor I am bade to take you there directly.’
Taliesin’s eyebrows rose slightly at his father choosing a new Councillor so quickly but Taliesin thought his father had made a good choice. They followed Elder Tomas through the cavernous hallways. Bara had her nose to the stone floor as they made their way up and up to the chambers of the Bwy Hir. Gwyn marvelled at the sheer size of the place, the huge staircases carved into the rock itself and how the higher they climbed the grander the hallways became, the walls decorated with fine and intricate tapestries, paintings, shields and crossed swords. The stone floors were decorated with richly woven rugs, some worn with age, others looked newly laid. Despite the slightly moist feel of the air, the bitter tang of torch smoke and the shadowy ceilings and crevices the place still felt imposing and ostentatious, Gwyn was captivated.
Elder Tomas led them up to Aeron’s personal chambers and rapped on the door before entering. Aeron was stood at a huge table with Celyn-Bach and two other Bwy Hir that Gwyn did not recognise. Gwyn felt his knees trembling and Bara was cowering behind his legs; they were tiny in comparison to the huge occupants in the room.
The Bwy Hir lifted their heads to view the newcomers, they gave a nod to Elder Tomas, a smile of welcome for Taliesin but for Gwyn and Bara there were curious stares. ‘I bring our mislaid travellers as requested, Sire.’ Elder Tomas bowed.
‘Taliesin,’ Aeron said, striding forward to clasp his son to him, ‘You are well?’
‘I am fine, father. I am glad to see Celyn-Bach is uninjured, I worried for him when the mirror closed.’
‘It was a tricky thing indeed.’ Aeron turned to view Gwyn. ‘And you, Gwyn Morgan, you too are well?’
‘Um, yes, sir.’ Gwyn looked up at Aeron like a child would an adult. ‘Where is my father, if you please, Sir?’
‘He is being brought from Dduallt.’ Aeron put his fists on his hips. ‘The body must be confirmed as your woman. I would have you both view her, to be certain.’ Gwyn swallowed and dropped his head. He was going to see his father!
stepped from behind Gwyn’s legs and cocked her head to one side. She was watching one of the Bwy Hir as if she was listening to him. Gwyn looked at Bara and then looked to Taliesin. ‘She is conversing with my brother Bran.’ Taliesin said matter-of-factly and Gwyn looked back to Bara. ‘What does she say?’ Gwyn asked sheepishly.
Bran lifted his head and spoke to Gwyn. ‘I asked her why she was on a lead. She says it is not she that is on a lead but you. She says you would get lost if you were not bound to her.’ Bran smiled and Gwyn chuckled.
‘I suppose that’s true.’ Gwyn fussed Bara’s head.
‘You do not need that lead, Gwyn Morgan of Ty Mawr, she would follow you to the ends of the earth – she has much love for you.’ Bran and Bara locked eyes for a few moments more.
‘Does she not like her lead?’ Gwyn asked Bran. ‘If she doesn’t, I will take it off, and her collar.’
‘She likes her collar around her neck, she sees it as a gift, but the lead she dislikes, but she sees it as a necessary burden to stop you getting lost.’
Gwyn knelt down, unclicked the lead and rolled it up ready to stuff it in his pocket and then he remembered. ‘I have Nerys’ knife.’ He stood up and pulled it from his pocket, holding it out.
‘This is the one she used to defend herself?’ Elder Tomas asked as he lifted it from Gwyn’s outstretched hands. Gwyn nodded. ‘I shall keep it safe, we may need it at the Triskele hearing.
‘No hearing will be necessary.’ Aeron’s voice was certain. ‘I will deal with him myself.’
‘Sire, do you consider that wise?’ Elder Tomas spoke with deference. ‘Would it not be prudent to allow the Triskele to come together first and judge him guilty before you meet out your justice. At least then it can be shown to all that there is no escape for lawbreakers who strike at our ranks, regardless of position or status?’
‘I agree with your Councillor.’ Gwrnach spoke for the first time since the newcomers had entered. ‘He speaks wisely. Let us have our hearing and then let the maggot burn.’
Aeron pursed his lips and looked around the group. ‘Then let it be so but …’ he said, holding up a finger, ‘he will stand in this very room and confess to his sins before the hearing. We need to know how contaminated y Gwag is and which mirrors are potentially threatened by the Ysbrydion that now walk y Gwag.’
‘A wise course of action, Sire.’ Elder Tomas bowed. ‘If I may, I shall take this young man down to the infirmary to wait for his father and then we shall see if they can recognise the remains.’ His face was tense as he spoke. ‘I also understand that the Hall of Mirrors is to be cleansed with white sage as a precaution and I would like to oversee that myself, if you have no further need of me at present?’
Aeron waved him away and returned to the table and the huge rolls of vellum they were studying. Gwyn stuffed the lead in his pocket and followed Elder Tomas out. Bara trailed along happily at Gwyn’s heel, looking up at him with affectionate eyes. ‘Is the infirmary far?’ Gwyn asked, leaning over the staircase to view the floor of the Halls beneath him, the staircase winding forever downwards int
o obscurity.
Elder Tomas was spry for his age and Gwyn had to hasten to keep up. ‘Not far,’ Elder Tomas called back, ‘just down the next flight … you know, I can’t remember the last time we had Chosen in the Infirmary, let alone two. You are very privileged to be roaming our corridors,’ he said jovially.
Gwyn didn’t feel very privileged; he felt wary, apprehensive and insignificant but definitely not privileged. He did however feel relief at being able to see his father again. He felt a flutter of excitement in the pit of his stomach at the thought of being reunited, even under these strange, dark circumstances.
‘And here we are!’ Elder Tomas pushed through a double door and ushered Gwyn into a room that smelt antiseptic and sterile. There were bays along both sides of the room filled with neatly folded bed. At the furthest end of the room were shelves of vials and jars, a long worktop and a centre island topped with slate. The slate was covered with a green cloth and something lay beneath it, too small to be a body, at least that’s what Gwyn thought. An elderly physician greeted the pair but insisted that Bara wait by the doors, which she did without too much fuss.
The physician wore the same black robes as all the Druids but he wore a pristine white apron over the top with matching sleeve protectors drawn at his wrists and beneath his elbows. He drew Elder Tomas aside and spoke quietly to him while Gwyn wandered off to wait by the doors with Bara.
A few minutes later the door swung inwards and a Druid walked in holding Dafydd by his elbow. Gwyn immediately embraced his father and Bara jumped and barked excitedly. Gwyn released his grip and noticed his father’s hands were bound. He shot a glare at the escorting Druid and turned to Elder Tomas.
‘Release him,’ Elder Tomas ordered, and the Druid obliged. ‘You may leave us for the moment, I shall see to him for now.’ The Druid bowed silently and withdrew. ‘Come forward, both of you – not the dog – we need to show you …’ He waved them forward.
Gwyn stood side by side with his father. Gwyn thought Dafydd looked smaller, thinner and so tired. Gwyn could have wept for him but instead he stayed focused and stood at the slate topped table. The physician peered over his spectacles, his face was grave. ‘I’m afraid there is not much left to show you … only the torso and a scrap of cloth … I must warn you, it is not very pleasant to look at … are you ready?’
Dafydd turned to his son. ‘I can do this alone if you’d prefer, Gwyn.’ Dafydd’s face was pale but his jaw was set.
‘No, we do it together, Dad.’ Dafydd nodded and they faced the table together, looking down at the small mound under the green cloth.
Elder Tomas looked away as the cloth was drawn back. He had seen it before and did not wish to again. He heard an intake of breath from both Chosen men and his heart went out to them. ‘Is it she?’ Elder Tomas asked with his head bowed.
‘What the hell did he do to her?’ Dafydd’s voice was tight, strained. ‘Where’s the rest of her?’ Gwyn turned and walked away, facing the wall and taking deep breaths.
‘Afagddu did not do all this … he put her in y Gwag, but this is how she came out. Can you identify her?’ Elder Tomas pressed.
‘How could anybody identify her from that?’ Gwyn asked the room, still facing the wall. Elder Tomas pressed his lips together. ‘So this could be anyone,’ he said to the physician.
‘No, there is a way.’ Dafydd was still looking at the lump of meat that lay on the table. ‘Nerys had a birthmark on her shoulder blade, bright red, looked like an acorn.’
Elder Tomas and the physician exchanged looks. The physician leaned over the table and rolled the torso onto its side, the back facing towards him. ‘As I live and breathe!’ he exclaimed. ‘Tomas come and look at this.’
Elder Tomas would rather not have but he skirted around the table and stood beside the physician. After a moment he signalled for Dafydd to join them on that side of the table. Dafydd slowly walked round, his boots echoing off the stone floor. The back was as ruined as the front, but a small red birthmark was evident. ‘So it is Nerys.’ Dafydd moaned as he dropped his head. Gwyn spun at the words and ran to grab his father. They embraced and Dafydd let Gwyn cry on his shoulder. ‘It’s alright, Gwyn,’ Dafydd soothed, ‘it’s over now.’
The physician gently laid the torso back down and recovered it with the sheet. Bara whined from her station at the door, keen to be included in the Morgans’ sorrow.
‘Take them to my study, would you?’ Tomas asked the physician. ‘Find them some tea, something hot and sweet to put inside them. I must report to Lord Aeron.’ He patted the Chosen on their shoulders before leaving quietly.
He sighed as he began the long trek back up to Aeron’s chambers. Never in his worst nightmares did he ever imagine one of his brethren, an Elder no less, to be
capable of murder. This would have a terrible effect on the brotherhood and he hoped the Chosen would not tar the brotherhood with the same brush as Afagddu. Woe and wreckage all around him, all at the hands of one man. Tomas shook his head. He had a feeling that worse was to come, there would be more bodies to retrieve, yet that in itself posed a problem. The Ysbrydion had been fed. They now had form, however ethereal and that was a danger, a terrible sin, an evil that should never have been allowed to happen. Did Afagddu know of the consequences of disposing of a body in y Gwag? Had his actions been deliberate? To what end the destruction of the Dderwydd Ddrych: the mirrors that connected them with the Chosen and the world beyond? Elder Tomas shook his head over and over again as he bounced suspicions around his head. He concluded that only Afagddu held the answers to his questions.
He reached Aeron’s chambers and again rapped on the door before entering. All the Host had now gathered around the table, all except Cadno. The Bwy Hir fell silent as Elder Tomas came to the table. ‘Sire, it is the woman from Ty Mawr, she has been identified by a birthmark on her back.’
‘Where are the Morgan men?’ Taliesin asked, leaning on the table as if this news hurt him personally.
‘In my office having hot, sweet tea, they are quite shocked – understandably so. What a mess.’ Elder Tomas shook his head once more.
‘Bring me Afagddu.’ Aeron’s words were ice. ‘Do the Morgans wish to witness Afagddu’s confession – it is their right.’
Elder Tomas sighed. ‘I think they are in no fit state, Sire. They can wait for the hearing … am I to release them and return them to their homes?’
Aeron’s eyes narrowed for a moment. ‘Yes, they are released.’ Taliesin smiled and Gwrnach nodded. ‘Remove their status too, they are Gwaradwyddedig no longer – but make it clear that it is my wish to speak with Anwen Morgan and it is in their interest to comply, Councillor. She has nothing to fear; Afagddu is imprisoned but I wish to speak with her.’
Elder Tomas nodded with relief. ‘I will inform them. This will go a long way with the Chosen. I shall see to it immediately. The cleansing is underway but I would not like the Ty Mawr mirror used yet. I shall fetch a Chosen from the nearest one to their home, I’m sure they will see them home safely.’
Aeron nodded. ‘Also explain to them that the remains of their woman will be prepared and delivered to the Chosen undertaker.’ Aeron creased his nose; the thought of a Chosen burial, boxed into the ground on holy ground was unnatural and vulgar. He dismissed the thought. ‘Councillor, I will have you here when Afagddu is delivered to me.’
‘Of course,’ Elder Tomas said, bowing, ‘I will be here.’ With heavy feet he made his way back down to the lower floors. ‘I am too old for this,’ he said to the stairs, ‘my legs and back ache furiously … but pain means I am alive, unlike that poor woman.’
The Morgans were relieved when he gave them the news. They were returned through their neighbours’ mirror and Dai Jones was elated to receive them.
The cleansing had been completed, but Elder Tomas ordered the Watchers to report any anomaly, anything out of the ordinary immediately.
Tomas noticed it was growing light outside, the small windows in the main lobby t
rickled the first rays of dawn through the grubby glass, lightening his passage as he made his way to the doors of the Dduallt and the Keeper. How on earth did Afagddu find the time and energy to commit murder? Elder Tomas puffed and panted. I have barely the energy left to put one foot in front of the other!
‘Elder Tomas!’ the Keeper called through the grate. ‘Or should I say Councillor Tomas, word reaches even here of your new elevated position.’ Elder Tomas waved the comment away.
‘Have a Seeker and the Helgi bring Afagddu to Aeron’s chambers immediately, though I want his hands bound to his body – I want no tricks from him,’ Elder Tomas said grimly.
‘Is he to be charged then?’ the Keeper inquired.
‘He is guilty, that is now proved.’ Elder Tomas went to move away from the door but returned. ‘Better make that two Seekers.’
‘Elder Madog is visiting him as we speak, will he do as an escort?’
‘Madog?’ Tomas’ forehead wrinkled. ‘Why would he be visiting Afagddu?’
‘He visits all the time,’ the Keeper said, shrugging his shoulders, ‘he’s driving me mad knocking at the door every day.’
Tomas was intrigued and he was also devious when necessary. ‘Two Seekers, two Helgi and Madog are to accompany Afagddu to Aeron’s chambers; an honour guard if you will. Tell them nothing more, Keeper.’ He wagged a finger as he withdrew. ‘An honour guard.’
Tomas was near exhausted by the time he returned to the waiting Bwy Hir. He had not slept at all the previous night and the sun was gleaming from Aeron’s balcony, promising a warm Autumn day. They all gathered in silence, some sitting, some standing. Tomas leaned heavily against the back of Aeron’s huge chair as the Seekers entered followed by a pale, tense Afagddu, two Helgi and Madog trailed in last.
‘Ah, Afagddu, do come in.’ Aeron’s voice dripped sarcasm. ‘How are you?’
‘I am well, considering,’ Afagddu answered coldly, as he looked around the room, noting its occupants. ‘Elder Tomas, I see you have replaced me already.’