The Bwy Hir Complete Trilogy

by Lowri Thomas

  Dafydd hadn’t thought that far ahead. ‘I do.’ Glyn-Guinea piped up. ‘Come on, I can take you.’ He grabbed his walking stick and made for his car.

  ‘You’re both bonkers!’ Dai called. ‘Be careful!’ he shouted as an afterthought.

  Glyn-Guinea started the engine. ‘We can’t use the mirrors and the Druids need to be told what’s happened. That’s why I’m going to Maen-Du – what you do when we get there is your own business.’

  ‘Agreed.’ Dafydd put on his seat belt and clung on as Glyn sped out of the yard and back onto the lanes.

  Gwyn saw them coming as they sped up the lane between the fields. At that speed, he knew something was wrong and so he hurried down from the top field to meet them with Bara bounding ahead of him.

  ‘Get in!’ Dafydd called as Glyn brought the vehicle to a standstill.

  ‘Where’re we going?’ Gwyn asked as he jumped in the back and slammed the door behind him, wrestling Bara for a seat as Glyn-Guinea reversed, just missing a stone wall.

  ‘I’ll explain on the way,’ Dafydd shouted back at his son. ‘Put your seatbelt on – we’re going to get Anwen.’

  ‘Yes!’ Gwyn pumped the air with a fist. ‘About bloody time!’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Anwen woke to find herself in strange surroundings. Am I in hospital? she thought to herself. She was in bed and there were green curtains surrounding her. The place smelt clinical and sterile, but there was an underlying aroma of damp.

  She sat up in bed and winced as she moved her leg and it all came flooding back: the huge Bwy Hir, the Druids, the fire and arrows. Where am I? ‘Hello?’ she called out in a timid voice. ‘Anybody there?’

  She heard footsteps and the curtain parted to reveal an old man dressed in a habit: a Druid, she thought and shrank back in her bed.

  ‘Ah, you’re awake,’ he said, in a reedy but kindly voice, ‘good, good. How are you feeling?’ He stepped up to her bed and placed a cool hand on her forehead. ‘You certainly look better.’

  ‘Where am I?’ Anwen followed the man’s every move; she presumed he was a doctor of some sort.

  ‘You are in the Infirmary of Maen-Du,’ he answered as he peered over his spectacles. ‘How is your leg?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s fine … thank you.’ She pulled the blankets tight around her chest as she noted she was naked.

  ‘May I check your stomach?’ he asked patiently. ‘After such a nasty fall I’d like to check the health of your baby.’

  ‘I’m naked,’ Anwen said bluntly, feeling her cheeks beginning to heat.

  ‘Your clothes were dirty and blood stained.’ He shook his head. ‘Let me find you something.’ He shuffled off and Anwen heard drawers being opened and closed, he returned and handed her a linen shirt. ‘It will be too big, but it will save your modesty.’

  She wriggled it over her head and once her chest was suitably covered, she pulled the blankets down to reveal her swollen stomach.

  The doctor gently pressed against the sides of her stomach. ‘You are quite advanced,’ he said with a frown as he probed and pressed. Anwen pushed his hands away and hurriedly covered her stomach. ‘Did I hurt you?’

  ‘No.’ Anwen pulled the covers closer. ‘I’d just rather you didn’t – I mean, I’m fine, really, thank you.’

  ‘May I at least check the wound on your leg?’ The physician waited patiently with his hands clasped in front of him. Anwen nodded her head and the physician lifted the blanket from the bottom of the bed to reveal her legs, one of which was swollen and bruised under a sterile dressing.

  The physician carefully unravelled the bandage and gently touched her calf muscle. Anwen flinched. ‘The arrow pierced straight through the muscle. A clean wound with no signs of infection. Your stitches will be removed in a few days or so, until then you will need to stay off your feet.’ He carefully redressed the wounds and tenderly tucked the sheet and blanket back under the bed.

  ‘Where is Taliesin?’ Anwen asked, as the physician finished tucking her in.

  ‘The prince?’ The physician shrugged his shoulders. ‘With his father I would imagine.’

  ‘When can I go home?’ Anwen felt tears welling up in her eyes and the physician patted her gently on her hand. ‘Soon, I’d imagine,’ he replied, ‘you need to rest for now.’ He ducked behind the curtain and was gone, leaving Anwen feeling lost and lonely in her little cubicle.

  Anwen tested her leg. It was incredibly painful and her calf muscle felt tight and leaden. She placed her hands on her swollen belly and began to fret. The physician had said she was “quite advanced”, but she wasn’t even half way through her pregnancy yet; how big am I going to get?

  Anwen let the tears fall, perhaps Mary had been right; perhaps she should have stayed away. When she woke up she had expected Taliesin to be by her side but she was alone, forgotten, in a strange place. She wanted to go home.

  The curtains parted again and for a moment Anwen’s heart lifted. ‘Taliesin?’ But another strange face greeted her. He was dressed the same as the physician and was of similar age. Anwen’s heart sunk.

  ‘Anwen Morgan?’ Elder Tomas peered at the forlorn little waif burrowed in her blankets. ‘Oh dear child, don’t cry.’ He produced a handkerchief from his robe and passed it to her. She gratefully accepted the offering and blew her nose and wiped her eyes. ‘May I come in?’ he asked gently and Anwen nodded.

  He perched himself on the end of her bed. ‘Well, well, what a sorry sight you are!’ Anwen burst into tears again. ‘Oh dear, I’m sorry child, I do have a tendency to say the wrong thing, especially with women, I’m afraid I’ve had little experience with speaking to women – I meant no offense, I just meant that you look, well …’ He spread his hands and Anwen smiled a small wan smile.

  ‘Let me start again.’ Elder Tomas leaned forward and extended his hand. ‘Anwen Morgan, my name is Elder Tomas and it is a pleasure to meet you.’

  Anwen shook his hand and smiled through her tears. ‘Well, that was a better start, wasn’t it?’ He smiled and Anwen gave a little laugh. ‘Good,’ he said, ‘I’m getting better at this already!’ He released her hand and sat back, shifting his weight on the bed. ‘Now then, I am here to bring greetings from Taliesin ap Aeron Ddu, Prince of the Winter Realm.’ Anwen blinked at his formal title. ‘He apologises for not being at your bedside but I’m afraid his attention is required elsewhere.’ Anwen’s shoulders slumped and her bottom lip began to wobble. ‘But, never fear, he will be here as soon as he can. I’m afraid you find us all in turmoil at present.’ Elder Tomas tutted and seemed lost in his own thoughts for a moment.

  ‘Elder Tomas?’ Anwen said timidly, ‘Can I see my father? Can I go home?’

  Elder Tomos sighed. ‘At present the answer to your questions must be no.’ He fretted when Anwen’s tears began to stream down her cheeks. ‘But, that is not to say you can’t see your father, or go home for that matter, what I mean is there is no way to contact your father at present.’ Anwen looked confused. ‘There is a small problem with the Dderwydd Ddrych, I’m afraid we cannot use the mirrors at present … do you know about the mirrors?’ Anwen nodded. ‘I see … I can try and arrange for a message to be taken to your father via one of our Seekers, would you like that?’ Anwen nodded again, more enthusiastically this time. ‘Good.’ He stood up. ‘You get some rest and I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Anwen sighed and Elder Tomas vanished behind the curtain again. She could hear him talking in a low voice, presumably to the physician. She couldn’t hear what was being said but a few moments later the physician reappeared with a cup and handed it to Anwen. ‘This is a pain killer and a mild sedative.’

  ‘I’d rather not.’ Anwen tried to pass the cup back but the physician was insistent. ‘It is harmless,’ he assured her, ‘and your leg will begin to throb as the local anaesthetic wears off, please drink it.’

  Anwen looked into the cup at the thick brown fluid swilling within it and then she upended the cup into her mo
uth, grimacing as the liquid slid down her throat. She handed the cup back to the physician and swallowed a second time, keen to get the foul taste out of her mouth. Almost instantly she felt her muscles relax and her eyelids grow heavy, the physician watched as she slowly slipped into a heavy sleep. ‘Good.’ He nodded his head. He left her bedside and returned to Elder Tomas. ‘She sleeps,’ he confirmed.

  ‘Poor child.’ Elder Tomas sighed. ‘What is to become of her?’

  ‘That will be for the Bwy Hir to decide.’ The physician rinsed the cup and replaced it on a shelf. ‘Though I wonder, can it be true? Is she really carrying a Bwy Hir child?’

  ‘That is what I am told and you are to keep that to yourself.’ Elder Tomas warned and the physician nodded.

  ‘Will they return her to her family?’ the physician inquired.

  Elder Tomas pursed his lips. ‘Maybe, but not until she has fulfilled her duty.’

  ‘Can a Human use the Cerdd Carega?’

  ‘She is slightly more than Human, my friend, or at least as I understand it, but whether she can use the stones remains to be seen.’

  ‘Is it safe for her to even try, especially considering the problem with y Gwag?’

  ‘Aeron insists she tries, but who knows the risks?’ Elder Tomas sighed again. He was so very tired at present. ‘Poor child.’ He shook his head and patted his friend on the shoulder. ‘Look after her. I will check back later if I get the time.’

  Elder Tomas left the Infirmary and made his way to the Hall of Mirrors. There had been an incident earlier that had the Hall in unrest; one of the Chosen had made an appearance through a mirror, yet on his return to his home the mirror had behaved unusually. The mists had turned suddenly red and black, closing quicker that it should have. It was unknown whether the Chosen had returned home safely and as yet the mirror had not been reopened. For the safety of all, Elder Tomas had forbidden any mirror to be used until it could be ascertained whether the Chosen had returned safely.

  That meant a Druid had to be escorted through the Cerdd Carega to the nearest point of the village by a Bwy Hir and from there, travel on foot to the Chosen’s home. Taliesin had been selected for the duty and as yet they had not returned with the news. Elder Tomas hoped the Chosen was unharmed; they did not need further unrest between the Chosen and the Druids.

  ‘Anything to report?’ Elder Tomas asked the Druids on duty in the Hall. Every mirror was being monitored by a single Druid and they in turn by more Druids who had assembled tables, chairs and reams of paper to note any anomalies. The Hall buzzed with activity as each event, anomaly or happenstance was recorded, checked and where possible, countered. White sage was being burnt and a thick, pungent smog hung just above the ceiling.

  Counter runes were scrawled on every surface, the chanting of incantations echoed through the hallways. This unprecedented state of affairs had the entire brotherhood shaking in their cowls.

  ‘We have summoned the king.’ Elder Nissyen presently observed the scores of Druids as they worked. ‘A number of mirrors have received some sort of assault.’

  ‘What?’ Elder Tomas was dumbfounded. ‘What do you mean “assault”?’

  ‘Something is striking at the mirrors.’ Elder Nissyen’s face looked worried, he did not take his eyes off the mirrors as he spoke. ‘Twelve bangs have been noted on three of the mirrors, one of the mirrors being Ty Mawr’s … something is trying to break through, I am sure of it.’

  ‘How can this be?’ Elder Tomas wrung his hands. ‘Afagddu could not have killed that many people! The Ysbrydion cannot be that strong – this makes no sense.’

  ‘Elder Tomas!’ A young Druid flew shouting into the Hall. ‘You must come! Prince Taliesin has returned and our Druid is hurt!’

  Elder Tomas spun on his heels and rushed after the young Druid. They hurried into the Reception Hall where Taliesin was standing with the Druid sent to gather news from the Chosen. ‘What has happened?’ he barked.

  Taliesin stood apart from the Druid and turned to Elder Tomas. ‘I am unharmed, but he has received … cuts.’ He pointed to the Druid who stood on shaking legs. ‘and the Chosen we sought did not return, he is lost in the mirrors.’

  The injured Druid held up his right arm, three clean, long, paper thin cuts covered his forearm. They trickled with blood but did not look deep. ‘How did this happen?’ Elder Tomas inspected the cuts.

  ‘He was fine when we entered the Cerdd Carega to return but when we arrived here, the cuts had appeared. What does this mean?’ Taliesin was concerned, the Cerdd Carega were considered safe … until now.

  ‘Come.’ Elder Tomas waved them to follow him. ‘We must advise the king.’ They rushed to the Hall of Mirrors where Aeron and a number of the Host stood over the Druids, deep in conversation. Aeron looked up as they entered.

  ‘My Lord,’ Elder Tomas said, bowing, ‘more bad news – a Druid has sustained injury whilst travelling through the Cerdd Carega and the Chosen did not return home – he is lost to y Gwag.’

  Aeron looked grim as he surveyed the cuts on the Druid’s arm. ‘You are unharmed?’ he asked Taliesin.

  ‘Yes,’ Taliesin said, nodding, ‘but I carry a protective rune.’ He lifted his arm to show the small stone rune dangling from a leather cord attached to his wrist. ‘Celyn-Bach thought it prudent.’

  ‘And he was right.’ Aeron turned to Elder Tomas. ‘See to it that every Druid wears the same.’

  Bran, Gruff and Gwrnach exchanged looks. ‘The Cerdd Carega are no longer safe? What of the Pride? They slumber on the other side of a Cerdd Carega – they must be woken!’ Gwrnach fretted.

  ‘Indeed.’ Aeron looked to his son. ‘Fetch the girl. There is no time to lose.’

  ‘But, my Lord,’ Elder Tomas intervened, ‘she can hardly walk and she is under sedation – she sleeps as we speak.’

  ‘Wake her.’ Aeron was insistent. ‘She must receive instruction immediately and attempt to travel the Cerdd Carega.’

  ‘But it is not safe!’ Taliesin challenged his father’s decision. ‘How can you send her through?’

  ‘How can I not?’ Aeron towered over his son. ‘The entire Pride is at risk and defenceless, she is our only hope of reaching them.’ He dismissed his son’s concerns. ‘Wake her, Councillor and bring her here to me.’

  Elder Tomas bowed and went to do his master's bidding. Taliesin threw a glare at his father and followed Elder Tomas to the Infirmary. Aeron continued his discussion with the Druids monitoring the mirrors. Gwrnach slipped away and followed Taliesin.

  Elder Tomas reached the Infirmary and relayed Aeron’s orders. The physician raised his eyebrows but did as he was told and retrieved the smelling salts ready to wake Anwen.

  Taliesin entered the Infirmary second and pushed past the Druids and threw back the curtains. Anwen lay fast asleep, curled on her side with her arms surrounding her bump. Taliesin had never seen her look more beautiful; he could have cried.

  He walked up to the bed and slowly reached over Anwen, pulling a strand of hair from her face before holding her hand and waiting for the physician to do his work.

  Anwen woke with a start and for a moment felt panic rise within her chest. ‘It’s alright.’ She heard Taliesin’s voice and relaxed as his face came into view. ‘Tali,’ she whispered sleepily, ‘I thought you wouldn’t come.’ She closed her eyes but opened them again as he gently shook her.

  When she opened her eyes for a second time, she noted the presence of Elder Tomas and beyond him – Anwen jumped up in her bed. Standing behind Elder Tomas was the biggest being she had ever seen. He stood head and shoulders above the Druid, his huge head and shaggy beard made him look almost savage. ‘I am Gwrnach,’ he boomed, ‘you are smaller than I expected.’ He smiled.

  Anwen looked to Taliesin and back to Gwrnach, her eyes practically popping out of her head. ‘He is my brother and friend.’ Taliesin tried to soothe her.

  ‘Oh my God!’ Anwen breathed. ‘What have I done?’ She tried to escape Taliesin’s grip, to ge
t out of bed, but they crowded in on her and pressed her back down.

  ‘What is the matter?’ Taliesin tried to calm her. ‘You are safe, Anwen, calm down.’

  ‘Will you be like that?’ She pushed Taliesin’s hands away from her and nodded towards Gwrnach, her eyes filled with horror.

  ‘Like what?’ Gwrnach said, affronted.

  Elder Tomas waved his hands. ‘Enough, you’re frightening the poor child.’ He leaned in and took Anwen’s hands. She tried to pull away but he firmed his grip and looked into her eyes. ‘You must calm yourself, Anwen Morgan.’

  Taliesin stood back, feeling ashamed and guilty, hurt and saddened by Anwen’s reaction. He let Elder Tomas take control of the situation. ‘Look at me, child. If you mean will Taliesin one day be as … substantial as Gwrnach, then yes. One day he will bloom and take the same form as all of the Bwy Hir.’ Anwen stared into Elder Tomas’ eyes, afraid to look anywhere else. ‘But,’ he continued, ‘if you are worried as to the size of your unborn child, then fear not. The Bwy Hir are the same size as Humans until they bloom. Your child will be normal … ish, when it is born.’

  ‘Ish?’ Anwen whispered, ‘What does “ish” mean?’

  Elder Tomas released her hands and sat down on the bed. ‘There has never been a Hanner-Bridia: a half breed, as far as we know, your child will be the first. It is not known whether it will become … well like the Bwy Hir, like Gwrnach – eventually. Or whether it will be simply Human … we don’t know.’

  ‘Oh my God.’ Anwen covered her face with her hands. ‘Oh my God.’

  Gwrnach stared down at the little female huddled in the bed. She was so small, so Human. What had Taliesin been thinking? He looked to Taliesin. He stood away from the bed, looking wretched and remorseful. Gwrnach gave him a sympathetic smile and then moved closer to the bed, kneeling down so as not to frighten the girl further. ‘Little woman?’ Gwrnach began and Anwen looked at him through her fingers. ‘Taliesin and I are both expectant fathers.’ He beamed but Anwen sat unmoving. ‘You see, I – we, have a terrible problem … the mother of my child is sleeping and thus is defenceless in her current state. She will be about as pregnant as you are now.’ He nodded to her belly. ‘And she carries my first child, just as you carry Taliesin’s.’