13

The waters of the Afon Deheuol flowed swiftly passed the small boat, but the trees that bordered the river moved more slowly. The craft was fighting a strong current but it did so silently and as far as September could tell without any source of power whatsoever. She sat in the middle of the vessel, which was really a large canoe, while Tudfwlch crouched in the bows looking ahead. Cynddylig was in the stern, his right hand gripping the tiller. Overhead the sun was approaching its zenith and the sky was clear and blue. The air was very warm but wrapped in her silver cloak, September felt cool – Padarn had been correct that the metal reflected the sun’s rays.

Although they had been travelling for little over an hour, September was already bored. The river banks were unchanging and the trees blocked views of the countryside on each side. Conversation had ceased as the two men settled to the journey and there was nothing for her to do. Feeling drowsy, September recalled the preparations for setting off.

 

Arianwen had roused her shortly after dawn. She had washed herself and returned to the cottage to find a new set of clothes laid out for her, not the long, white dress that was always tripping her up, but a pair of calf length trousers and a long sleeved tunic top, both in a light beige colour.

“They are made for the men, but should fit you,” Arianwen said with a tone of mild disapproval. September couldn’t understand how the women put up with wearing the full dresses when the trousers and tunic would make it easier to move. Underwear didn’t seem to be in fashion however so she dressed quickly keeping the silver cloak around herself the whole time.

“I think you will need this,” Arianwen said, handing September a leather belt.

“Thank you,” September said, buckling it around her waist. She found that the scabbard of the knife Iorwerth had given her fitted onto the belt and the pouch with the small copper horn presented to her by Catrin slid onto the belt as well. With Eluned’s phial and the starstone around her neck, she had all her possessions on her body.

Arianwen brought breakfast – bread, cheese, fruit – and while September was eating, Berddig appeared.

“Ah, I’m pleased to see you are ready,” he said, “your boat is prepared and Cynddylig is impatient to make a start.”

“Is he?” September asked, “He didn’t seem too keen last night.”

“Oh, don’t worry about him. Cynddylig is a bit different to most people; he sees doom and gloom when others find hope.”

“He doesn’t think I can stop the Malevolence, does he?”

“He doesn’t have the faith in our powers of resistance to evil that most of us have. None of us know for certain, and we realise that we have little else to help us withstand the Malevolence, but the old stories tell us that the Maengolauseren is a powerful tool in resisting it and the Cludydd, whoever she is, has always protected us.”

“I wish I knew more of these stories and what I am supposed to do.”

“There will be time on your journey. Tudfwlch knows the tales – it is part of his training, and no doubt Cynddylig will have things to tell you. Now are you ready to leave?”

September swallowed her last mouthful of bread and lifted her cup to down the last swig of cool, fresh water.

“Yes, I think so.”

Arianwen held a large woven sack closed by a draw-string.

“I think you will need this,” she said.

“What is in it?” September asked.

“A change of clothes for your journey and for when you reach the Arsyllfa, and there’s a blanket for the cold nights.”

“Thank you. I hadn’t thought much about what I will need.”

“Of course not child. You have barely arrived and we are packing you off to face whatever destiny holds for you, and for us,” Arianwen looked serious, “I, we, will be thinking of you every day and sending our thoughts to support you in the trials that lie ahead. When all this is over, perhaps you will return to us here at Amaethaderyn, and we can be together in happier times.”

September felt a tear in her eye. She had hardly known this woman for more than a day and yet she felt as close to her as to her own mother. Arianwen opened her arms and September stepped forward into a hug.

“Thank you,” she sobbed, “I will try and do whatever it is that I’m needed for.”

“We know you will.”

They separated and September crossed to the bed at the side of the cottage where Eluned lay. Her eyes were open and she smiled at September.

“Good luck, Cludydd,” she whispered, “May all the stars and all the planets help you in your task.”

September’s eyes filled again. Eluned was her friend, perhaps her best friend but they had enjoyed so little time together. She leant forward and kissed the mercury bearer on her forehead.

“You get fit quickly. I’d like to see the tiger and the dolphin again if – when – I come back.”

Eluned smiled, “We’ll have lots of fun.”

September picked up the bag by its strings and hefted it over her shoulder. She, Berddig and Arianwen left the cottage and stepped into the bright, warm morning.

It was a short walk to the riverbank and many other people seemed to be making the same journey. When they reached the waterside September saw that a large crowd had assembled. The people made a path for them to pass through.

“Is everyone here to see me leave?” she asked Berddig.

“Of course.”

“Glad to see me go, I expect, after all the trouble I’ve caused.” There were signs of the damage caused by the Adarlwchgwin and the Gwyllian all the way through the village.

“That’s not the reason. Everyone knows how important your journey is. All their hopes for the future lie in the conference at the Arsyllfa. Don’t look so worried. Your strength is in the stone. It will give you all the power you need. Here now, let’s get you and your bag on board.”

September turned from Berddig and the crowd and saw the boat bobbing gently at the bank. It was smaller than she expected for a long journey, little more than a canoe with seating for three or four people. There were already a number of sacks, leather bags and small wooden barrels filling the available space so September’s sack made little difference.

Tudfwlch welcomed her brightly and helped her step into the middle of the boat. Then he took up a position in the bow. September looked to the stern where Cynddylig was fiddling with a grey metal box attached to a wooden tiller. She was determined to be friendly to the older man.

“Good morning, Cynddylig.”

“Hmm,” was the only reply. It seemed he was too engrossed to be polite.

“What is that box you are looking at?” she asked, trying to engage him in conversation. She had a little more success because after a moment he looked up at her.

“It is our source of movement, girl,” he said.

“Oh, an engine.” It didn’t look much like an out-board motor to September, not that she had ever had the opportunity to look closely at one, “it turns a propeller that pushes the boat forward,” she said to show that she wasn’t completely dumb and that she had some understanding of such things.

“Yes,” Cynddylig said returning to inspect the motor. September was confused because she had seen no other signs of machines run by engines in the village. All the work seemed to be done by the people themselves and wood was burned to provide heat.

“What fuel does it use?” she asked.

“Fuel?” Cynddylig looked at her with a sneer, “nothing is burned to make the boat move. We would need a boat twice the size if we had to carry wood to burn.”

“What makes the boat move then?” September asked.

“The power of Haul of course.”

“Haul?” September was confused. She had heard the word but had forgotten what it stood for. Cynddylig pointed to the sky.

“The Sun,” he said.

“Oh, you mean it uses solar power,” September was proud that she thought she understood but as she looked around she saw something was missing, “where are the solar panels?”

“I don’t understand what you are saying,” Cynddylig growled and returned to studying the motor, or whatever it was.

“I think I should explain,” Berddig said. September had forgotten that he was behind her as she had got into the boat and he had overheard the conversation. “I presume that you do not have artefacts of such ingenuity in your world,” he continued, kneeling beside the boat.

“No, I don’t think so” September shrugged.

“The engine, as you called it, is the peak of skill of the prif-cludyddau o haearn and aur.”

“You mean the Mordeyrn and Iorwerth.”

“The Mordeyrn, yes, he is the greatest bearer of gold, but not Iorwerth. He is powerful but not even he has the skill to construct this device. It is the work of the Prif-cludydd who lives with the metal miners in the Mynydd Tywyll. He wrought the iron into intricate shapes that turn the fins that push the boat through the water. The Mordeyrn provided the tiny nugget of gold that focuses the power of the Sun and causes the engine to work.”

“It sounds pretty special,” September was over-awed by Berddig’s reverential explanation. She couldn’t understand at all how a piece of gold could act as a solar power source – it was just magic, like so many things in the Land.

“It is. Our village has but two of the devices to drive our boats and many villages have none at all.”

“So once again, you are giving up something valuable and precious to the village to send me on my way.”

“As we have said before, Cludydd, you are important to us and we must ensure that you get to the Arsyllfa as soon as possible. Without the engine you would take many more days of paddling against the flow of the river. It is for all of our benefits that you should take the machine.”

“Well, thank you again, Berddig.”

“By the power of the Cemegwr! Are we getting started today, or are you going to waste more time in chatter?” Cynddylig said. Berddig looked startled then stood up.

“You are correct, Cynddylig, you should set off. Cast off Tudfwlch.” The young man undid the rope holding the bow of the boat into the shore while Cynddylig did the same with the stern rope. The crowd standing on the bank cheered and waved. September waited for a roar of the motor as Cynddylig got them started but there was no noise of an engine; there was no sound at all except for the swishing of the propeller. The boat moved smoothly away from the bank and into the stream with no sign of effort. September waved to the people while feeling amazed at the magic of the fuel-less engine.

Although the current of the river was strong the crowd was soon disappearing behind them as the little craft slipped quietly through the water. For a few minutes they passed fields and gardens on the banks of the river. September looked towards the opposite bank and beyond to the hill of the refuge and its blasted copse of trees, but then the trees crowded together at the water’s edge and her view was lost. She made herself as comfortable as possible sitting on a wooden cross-member, resting back against the bags that filled the hull. Tudfwlch too, wriggled into a position to look ahead along the river. She glanced back at Cynddylig who was sitting stiffly, staring ahead with his hand on the tiller. And so they began their journey.

 

September stirred herself. There was no change to the scenery but she needed some diversion. She knew she couldn’t spend the whole journey asking “Are we nearly there yet?” because she knew they weren’t. Her recollection of the conversation with Berddig before they had left had given her an idea for some entertainment.

“Tudfwlch?”

“Yes, Cludydd,” the young man did not stir from staring ahead.

“Everyone expects me to defeat the Malevolence because that’s what happened before. Is that right?”

“We don’t expect it but you are our hope, perhaps our only one.”

There was a grunt from behind her but no further comment.

“Berddig said you had stories which explained why you have this hope.”

“That’s right. Everyone is familiar with the stories of the fight against the Malevolence but those of us training to be a cludydd have to learn the tales in detail.”

“Well, we have a long journey ahead of us and I’m going to be pretty bored if it goes on like this, why don’t you tell me some of the stories? They may help me to understand what I’m supposed to be doing here.”

Tudfwlch turned to face her and smiled broadly.

“It would be a great pleasure to tell you the tales, Cludydd, but I shall have to watch the river while I do.”

There was another grunt from behind September but Cynddylig kept his silence.

“That’s fine, I can hear you. Let’s start.”

“Ah, now that’s difficult. Where shall I begin?”

“What’s the problem?”

“Well, you see there have been several times when the power of the Malevolence has grown, many lifetimes apart. The early stories are confused and difficult to understand and make more use of the old tongue.”

“Tell me the more recent ones then. How about the last time the Malevolence appeared?”

“That’s a good idea, although even that was a long time ago.” Tudfwlch coughed to clear his throat and knelt more upright on his seat of sacks. He took a deep breath and spoke in a loud and almost melodic voice as if reciting something he had heard many times.

“It was a time of sadness and anger in the Land. Man fought against man, woman against woman, and vicious monsters arose to kill, destroy and bring pestilence on the people. Men and women despaired that the Adwyth was growing in power. That’s the name for the Malevolence in the old tongue, Cludydd.”

“I know,” September said. Tudfwlch went on.

“They thought it would gain control over everyone and everything that lived in the seven regions of Gwlad. Then the Prif-cludydd o Aur, the Mordeyrn of Coedwig Fawr, the Great Forest...”

“Where’s that?”

Tudfwlch stuttered, his recitation broken.

“Uh, um, north of here. The forest lies between the northern river and Mynydd Tywyll. It is a vast area of tall, dark, pine trees. The people live there by cutting down the trees for timbers for the miners and charcoal for the metalsmiths in the mountains.”

“I see, and this Mordeyrn was not the Mordeyrn I’ve met.”

“No of course not. This was years and years ago. Our Mordeyrn’s name is Aurddolen. The Mordeyrn’s then was Heulyn, the ray of Sun.”

“I see. Go on.”

“Um... then Heulyn remembered the stories of yore and cried out to the heavens to send us our saviour once again, the Cludydd o Maengolauseren. For seven days and seven nights he stood on a great stump of a tree in the middle of the forest and voiced his appeal. And on the seventh night, when the moon was overhead she appeared. Clad in white with hair as white as the snows of the north, she ...”

“Snow? You mean her hair was white, like mine?”

“Yes, Cludydd, she was indeed white of hair and pale of complexion. She appeared holding the Maengolauseren in her hand. She was young and beautiful ... yes, like you Cludydd... but she was confused. She had no knowledge of the Land and was unfamiliar with the ways of the people of the Land...”

“Hold on. You’re saying that this woman, who looked something like me arrived in the Land, summoned by this Heulyn, just like the Mordeyrn summoned me. And she came from my world?”

“Perhaps. She was certainly not of this world but she came bearing the stone which you now carry.”

“How do you know it’s the same one?”

“There is no other starstone of the same size and power.”

“Right, I see.”

“Shall I continue, Cludydd?” Tudfwlch asked glancing at September.

“Yes please, but call me September.”

“Yes Clud...September. Heulyn instructed the Cludydd o Maengolauseren in her powers and very soon her skills were tested. Just a few days after her arrival amongst the people of the Land the forces of the Malevolence attacked. A Draig tân descended from the heavens and hordes of Adarllwchgwin hurled stones and fire at the people of Coedwig Fawr. There was great destruction and many died or were injured but the Cludydd triumphed. She fought off the beasts and destroyed the Draig tân. The Mordeyrn Heulyn realised that this victory was not enough however. The Malevolence had not been weakened, just held back for a time. Heulyn knew that the people of Gwlad and in particular the bearers of power must work together. He called the Prif-cludyddau to a conference in the Mynydd Tywyll and guided the Cludydd o Maengolauseren there himself. Their journey was beset with attacks from the evil; monsters of the earth, air, fire and water and also people who had turned to evil. I won’t go on with the tales of the journey, September.”

September was roused from the ancient times to respond to Tudfwlch’s last comment.

“Why not?”

“It is very long and while exciting to children to hear about how the Cludydd defeated the servants of the malevolence it is, um, a little repetitive.”

September realised that wasn’t quite what Tudfwlch meant. They were on a journey to meet the Prif-cludyddau, she was the bearer of the starstone, and the Malevolence was at large. They too may be attacked at any time.

“But perhaps there are clues as to how I should deal with the Malevolence and its servants?”

“Ah, yes, that is true,” Tudfwlch said, pondering, “I will tell you the stories later – we have plenty of time. I wanted to get to the part where the Malevolence was defeated.”

September was still thinking over the story.

“You say this earlier Cludydd was attacked all along her journey?”

“That’s right. The Malevolence sensed her presence and her importance and attackers manifested from the soil, the air, the rivers and lakes all along their route.”

“She didn’t have a cloak to hide her from sight?” September indicated the silver garment that enrobed her.

“No, that is a new invention of Berddig and Padarn suggested to them by the Mordeyrn.”

“But it hasn’t been tested except for last night?”

“How could it? It needs you and the Malevolence for its fitness for purpose to be proved.”

“Ah, yes.”

“We will have to wait to see if it works but the Gwyllian last night were unable to perceive you. If they had they would have come straight to Arianwen’s house instead of destroying all the other huts. I think that is a good sign, September.” Tudfwlch’s voice had a merry tone to it. Remembering all the destruction wrought by the Gwyllian, September wasn’t so sure. She turned to Cynddylig.

“Is Tudfwlch right? Is the cloak keeping me hidden from the Malevolence?”

Cynddylig shrugged.

“Perhaps the Cludyddau have been successful in making you invisible to the Malevolence but the evil knows that you are in the Land. We have a journey of many days. Who knows whether the robe will keep your whereabouts secret for all that time.”

September was not cheered by Cynddylig’s words but she realised that it was not in the character of the man to be encouraging. Perhaps he was being realistic and not defeatist. She turned back to Tudfwlch.

“There’s something else. They didn’t travel to the Arsyllfa?”

“It did not exist in those times. Although the Arsyllfa seems an ancient institution to us today, and indeed it is many hundreds of years old, it was only after the last rising of the Malevolence that it was established and the observatory built in the Bryn am Seren. After the Cludydd defeated the Malevolence it was Heulyn’s life’s work to set up the Arsyllfa to prepare for the next coming of the evil. But I’m getting ahead of the story.”

“No, wait. You’re saying that things are different to the last time.”

“Well, the Arsyllfa was established to collect knowledge of the Malevolence, to observe the heavens which control the waxing and waning of its power and to dispense instructions for preparations throughout Gwlad.”

“Why was nothing done before?”

Now it was Tudfwlch’s turn to shrug.

“We are an independent people, scattered across the Land. We work hard to maintain our homes and families. It is not easy providing sufficient food, and clothes, and tools. Each village largely looks after itself, with just a few people travelling from one to another.”

“Is there no government?”

“Government?”

Tudfwlch didn’t appear to understand the word.

“Leaders, laws, taxes. All that stuff.” September recalled her father ranting at the impositions of government.

Cynddylig spoke, “He doesn’t understand you girl. You speak words that have little meaning for us, as opaque as the thoughts of the Cemegwr. Each village has its rules of life and its tithes and the cludyddau are leaders of a sort, but the whole of Gwlad has no such organisation – well, until recently.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Mordeyrn Aurddolen has attempted to impose his views about the Malevolence on the other Prif-cludyddau. This conference of the Arsyllfa is his parliament of the whole of Gwlad.”

“Perhaps it is needed to oppose the Malevolence,” September said.

“Aye, maybe it is, but some think that it is itself the work of the Adwyth, to bind us in rules and control our deeds and thoughts.”

“That’s nonsense,” Tudfwlch said heatedly, “you can’t suggest that the Mordeyrn is a servant of evil, especially after the battle in which his gold plate was shattered.”

Cynddylig dissolved into mutters and grunts. “It’s what some say. I’m not saying I believe it.”

“The point, September, is that the Arsyllfa, and the Mordeyrn, have known that the Malevolence was growing in power for some time. He is trying to prepare for it hence his first appeal to you. But the Land is a big place; it takes a lot of organisation to get the seven regions working to the same ends.”

“OK, so go back to your story. How did this earlier Mordeyrn and the Cludydd win? What was her name by the way?”

Tudfwlch became dreamy. “The Cludydd o Maengolauseren was named Breuddwyd in her own world.”

“What! That’s unbelievable,” September was shocked and excited.

“What is it, September?” Tudfwlch turned to see her face.

“That name, Breuddwyd, it’s my mother’s name. I’ve never heard of anyone else with it. She says it means ‘dream’.” Something else occurred to September. “She’s a seventh child too. I’ve got six uncles scattered around Wales.” What did this mean? Could her mother have been the bearer of the starstone at the last rising of the Malevolence? But that was centuries ago, surely it couldn’t be. September recalled that the passage of time in the Land was different to her home as only a fortnight had passed for her between her visits while two years had passed for the people of Gwlad.

“You certainly bear a resemblance to descriptions of the former Cludydd,” Tudfwlch said apparently unexcited, “Why shouldn’t the stone be handed from mother to daughter?”

“But she never mentioned it to me.”

“Did you tell your mother of your first visit to us?”

“No, but...”

“There you are then; she had no reason to tell you.”

“But surely if what your story says happened to her, those great battles and things, she would have fantastic stories to tell.”

“Perhaps that was it. From what you have said your world is very different to ours. Maybe your mother thought it best to keep her tales to herself.”

September shrugged. She couldn’t believe it, couldn’t take in the possibility that her own mother, Mum, had once wielded the powerful stone that hung now from her neck.

“What happened at the end? She, this Cludydd Breuddwyd, won?”

“That’s right.”

“How?”

Tudfwlch took a deep breath and launched again into the story.

“Heulyn determined that the focus of the Malevolence was in the southern desert, far to the south of here.”

“But they were up north in the forests.”

“Yes, they embarked on a great trek, the Cludydd, the Mordeyrn and the other Prif-cludyddau. Along the way they gathered a huge army of village people who left their homes and their families to fight for good and to protect the Cludydd. After many months and many battles with the servants of the Malevolence they reached the edge of the Plains. The desert stretched in front of them. There would be no water or food for the army. The Cludydd decided to go on alone. Heulyn wanted to go on with her to defend her but she insisted he stay behind and look after the people. She left them, heading for the place and the time that Heulyn had predicted that the Malevolence would reach its greatest power. Heulyn and the army waited. Days passed and then on the night that Heulyn had foretold there was a huge eruption in the distance. The sky lit up with blue fire and after a time a great roar of noise blasted them to the ground and deafened them all. A vast cloud of dust rolled over the land burying each and every one of them and making them choke. Then there was silence. The sky went dark again and the stars reappeared. The army picked itself up and dusted themselves off. There was a feeling of release, of joy, of a weight lifted from them. Heulyn knew that the Cludydd had succeeded. The Malevolence was banished. They waited for the Cludydd to return. Days passed with no further attacks by the manifestations of evil and the villagers began to drift away, beginning the long journey home. Eventually just the Mordeyrn Heulyn remained. He walked out into the desert and arrived at a great area where the sand was turned to crystal but he found no sign of the Cludydd or the Maengolauseren. He returned to his home and set about his plans for the Arsyllfa and making preparations for the next visitation of the Malevolence. He knew that while Breuddwyd had been successful, evil will always rise again.” Tudfwlch fell silent, Cynddylig sniffed, and September sat still trying to take in the story.

“She didn’t die,” she said at last, “she went home.”

“That is what Heulyn presumed. Everyone was disappointed and hoped that she would return and enjoy the appreciation of the people. But Heulyn said that the Cludydd o Maengolauseren will only appear in the Land when the Malevolence grows strong. Only now has that time come again. You are with us September.”

“Hmm, if those stories have been passed on correctly,” Cynddylig growled.

September turned to face him.

“You don’t believe the stories are true?”

“Oh, there’s truth in them as in all old stories. I’m just not certain they are a guide to our future. They are tales told to frighten children or to teach them how to behave.”

“Don’t you believe in the evil?”

“Oh, there’s evil, in the world.”

“And what about the monsters, the Draig tân, the Adarllwchgwin, the Ceffyl dwr, Gwyllian? You’ve got to believe in those.”

“Aye, girl, I believe there are monsters in the world too.”

“So what don’t you believe then?”

“I can’t believe that those tales of the past have any meaning for us now.”

“What about the Cemegwr? You’ve mentioned them twice.”

Cynddylig was silent for a moment.

“You’re right girl. I do call upon them from time to time, but not out of belief or faith.

“What then?”

“The oldest stories of the Land tell how this world and all the others we see in the heavens were made by the Cemegwr. They made the land and the seas and the air. They provided the metals in the ground for us to use. They created all the living things, including us.”

“And...”

“That’s it; they are old stories, fables. They have never appeared to help us when the Malevolence has grown strong although some people, the misguided and the gullible, say that the Cemegwr made us to oppose the Evil.”

“What do you think?”

“I think that if they exist the Cemegwr are sitting on their backsides watching us and having a laugh at our futile attempts to plan for the next assault by the Malevolence. But no, I don’t believe that they are out there waiting to help us or that they even exist.”

“Do you believe in me?”

“Oh, you’re real and you bear a stone of power, but can you rid the world of the evil? I don’t know.”

Tudfwlch snorted.

“Oh, come on Cynddylig. Everything that the Mordeyrn predicted has happened. He said the power of the Malevolence was increasing and it has. In the last few years the attacks have become more frequent and there have been tales from elsewhere of diseases and disputes which are the work of the evil in the minds of the people. He summoned September and here she is; the bearer of the stone who has already wielded its power.”

Cynddylig shrugged.

“Let us hope then that the Mordeyrn’s plans are successful.”

“I have more than hope,” Tudfwlch asserted, “I believe in the Mordeyrn and the Cludydd.” He turned back to face the bow of the boat and fell silent. Cynddylig did not respond and returned to steering the craft silently.

September wriggled her bottom amongst the sacks making herself more comfortable. She closed her eyes to shut out the world and to be with her thoughts. Could she believe that Mother had once been in her position, had travelled across Gwlad and wielded the Maengolauseren in a fierce battle with the Malevolence? It seemed too fantastic to be true and yet here she was sailing along a wide river in a boat powered by a speck of gold and some kind of magic. Perhaps when Mother returned to her life at home she had thought that her experiences were too farfetched to pass on and had no idea that her own daughter could become part of the same saga. If only she could talk to Mother and learn more about the powers of the starstone. September realised that any conversation would probably have to wait until the completion of her task, if she was successful. She wasn’t her Mother, didn’t have the skills or common sense that she had; nevertheless if Mother succeeded, surely she could too. There was something else though, an added complication; her dead twin. Perhaps if her twin had been alive she might have been born after September and then she would be the seventh not September. It was all too uncertain.

September became aware of a change in the boat’s motion. She opened her eyes and realised that she must have been asleep. The sun was low in the sky and the boat was moving across the current. They were headed towards a break in the high bank, a shelving beach and a clearing in the trees. September sat up straight to get a clearer sight of where they were going.

“Ah, you’ve woken up. Just in time girl,” Cynddylig said. September turned to him.

“Are we stopping?”

“Yes, it’s time to make camp for the night. The light will be gone soon and it’s not a good idea to be on the river at night even when the Malevolence is not in its ascendency.”

The bow of the boat ground against the shingle. Tudfwlch leaped overboard with the rope in his hand. He splashed into the water but a few steps took him to the sandy beach. He hauled on the rope pulling the small craft ashore. September crawled over the sacks and barrels to the bow and jumped on to dry land. She joined Tudfwlch in tugging the boat further out of the water.

“That’ll do,” Cynddylig called, “Find somewhere to tie her to.” Tudfwlch took the rope and began tying it around the nearest tree trunk. “Here, girl, catch.” Cynddylig called again as he threw a sack in September’s direction. She caught it in her arms and was surprised to find how light it was.

“What’s this?” she said.

“Your bed,” Cynddylig replied, “put it down and catch this one.” September hurried to drop the sack on the dry ground well away from the water and arrived back to receive another similar package tossed from the boat. Tudfwlch joined her and together they gathered the sacks and barrels that Cynddylig threw to them.

“That’s enough for tonight,” Cynddylig said, looking at the half empty hull. He jumped from the bow and strode up the beach. “Now let’s get this camp sorted and some food on the fire.”

By the time the sun had sunk below the trees, the three travellers had made camp in the shelter of the forest edge. Tudfwlch had lit a fire of twigs and branches that he had collected and Cynddylig had set up a small cauldron over it. September could already smell tempting odours wafting from the vegetables and herbs that he had tossed into it. She had been pleased to discover that the ‘beds’ were sleeping bags packed thickly with wool. Tudfwlch had told her that she would appreciate the warmth because after the heat of the day the nights could be cold. Now she sat on her own sleeping bag with her silver robe wrapped around her watching Cynddylig at work. Tudfwlch handed her a wooden cup filled with water. She drank gratefully. Tudfwlch sat next to her and looked around.

“Should be safe; a quiet spot,” he said.

“Have you camped here before?” September asked.

“No, but he has,” Tudfwlch indicated Cynddylig, “he knows all the stopping points along the river, but this is my first time away from Amaethaderyn.”

“Are you looking forward to the trip?”

“Oh, yes. I know it will be hard and we may meet difficulties, but I’ve wanted an excuse to travel.”

“Your people don’t travel much then?”

“No, the village is all that most of us know. There’s just a few like Cynddylig who take away some goods and bring back other things. The cludyddau usually travel a bit, learning their skills from others and passing on their own knowledge. Perhaps I would have set off myself sometime soon to learn more of the craft of Haearn,” he hesitated, “of course, Iorwerth’s a great cludydd and a good teacher.”

“But you’d like to get away and see more of the world,” September said, “I know how you feel, I’d like to do something exciting when I’m older, perhaps even go to university.” She would love to study something but she didn’t know what and on her past record the chances of getting good qualifications seemed slim. She presumed she would be stuck at home looking for a boring job. She realised that Tudfwlch didn’t understand what she had said, “You’d like to go away from home, a place like the Arsyllfa I suppose.”

“Ah, yes. The trouble is that the Malevolence has changed things. People are more wary of travelling and meeting strangers. We’re not so sure that we trust people as much as we used to. You hear stories...”

“What sort of stories?”

“Oh, groups of people, possessed by evil, attacking villages and running off with their food and wares.”

“Can’t people defend themselves? What about the bearers of the metals? They have powers.”

“That is true but not all villages have cludyddau as skilled as those at Amaethaderyn and don’t forget that in two of the attacks it was your power that defeated the manifestations of the Malevolence.”

“Hmm, it comes back to the starstone, doesn’t it.”

“Yes, its power is so great that I feel we have no need to fear evil. Would you let me look at it?”

September reached inside her cloak and felt the weight of the stone in its silver clasp in her hand. She pulled it out for Tudfwlch to see.

“Put that thing away!”

Cynddylig’s roar startled September. She released the starstone and it slid back inside her cloak.

“If that cloak of yours is to do its job you must keep the stone hidden inside it.”

September saw anger and frustration pass quickly over Tudfwlch’s face to be replaced by a look of contrition. She couldn’t believe how stupid she had been to uncover the stone after all that happened last night.

“Of course. I was foolish to ask,” Tudfwlch said, “we must do nothing to attract the attention of the Adwyth.”

“That’s right, lad,” Cynddylig said more gently, “use the sense that Iorwerth’s tried to drum into you.”

September regained her composure and pressed her hand against her breast feeling the hidden pendant.

“There was no need to shout,” she said.

“I’m sorry, girl, but even a moment of exposure may be enough to awaken a manifestation of the evil.”

“Cynddylig’s right,” Tudfwlch said. “Who knows what monsters may be lurking nearby awaiting a sign.”

September stood up, “I need a wash, or a bath. It was hot and sticky sitting in a boat all day.” She felt a need to get away from Cynddylig for a while.

“You’re right,” Tudfwlch said, “Let’s get into the river.” He started undoing his belt and pulling his tunic over his head. September wasn’t sure whether to follow him and strip off her clothes.

“If you’re going in the water, Cludydd, don’t forget to keep your cloak around you,” Cynddylig said, “and don’t be long. The food will be ready soon.”

Tudfwlch was tugging his trousers off his legs and standing naked in the twilight.

“Come on,” he said, running to the waters” edge. September watched his slim, muscular body with interest and made a decision. With the body she had here in the Land she needn’t feel ashamed and anyway she would still be covered by the silver cloak. She removed her belt with the dagger and pouch, contorted herself to take off her top and wriggled the trousers down. Then gripping the cloak around her she ran to join Tudfwlch. He was already splashing in the water a couple of metres beyond where the boat was moored. His white skin caught the pale moonlight and the ripples of water around him sparkled. September stepped tentatively into the water.

“It’s not cold,” Tudfwlch called. He was right; it was nothing like as cold as she suspected a river in Britain would be at any time of year. The water still retained the warmth of the sun that it had collected on its long, meandering journey from the mountains. Holding the cloak around her September moved further into the river until the water was up to her waist. Then she sank down immersing her body in the water. The water’s touch reminded her of the differences between the body she had now and what she was familiar with at home. She felt fitter, as if her body had no excess fat and was used to much more exercise than she had at home. The body felt more mature, more looked after. She felt the same as Tudfwlch looked – a young person at the peak of their youthful health.

“How does that feel?” Tudfwlch said, swimming to her side.

“Wonderful,” she replied. “It’s great to wash all the sweat off.”

“Come and eat, supper is ready,” Cynddylig called. They waded out of the water and saw Cynddylig spooning the broth into wooden bowls. Tudfwlch pulled a couple of cloths out of a sack and they quickly mopped the water from themselves. It took further contortions to get back into her clothes but soon she was sitting with Tudfwlch and Cynddylig around the fire with a warm bowl on her lap.

 

Before long, September’s hunger was satisfied, hunger that she hadn’t been aware of until she took her first mouthful of Cynddylig’s soup. The flavours of various vegetables and cheese were so enticing that she drained two bowlfuls, as did Tudfwlch and Cynddylig himself. She helped wash up and then the three of them sat in their sleeping bags around the fire. Cynddylig began to sing in a soft lilting voice. September couldn’t follow the words but presumed they were of the old language that the people seemed to use for formal and cultural purposes. Tudfwlch joined in and September was enjoying just listening to the tunes.

The sound of a faint and distant horn clashed with the singing. September looked into the darkness all around but could not pick out the direction the sound was coming from. Neither of the men seemed to notice the sound and September became convinced that the notes of the horn were coming from very close to her. She looked at herself and her eyes fell on the leather pouch at her waist. Then she remembered. She opened it and pulled out the small copper horn that Catrin had given her. It was indeed the little horn that was producing the faint tones. She lifted it to her ear to listen more carefully and as she did so the music stopped.

“Cludydd. Do you hear me?” The voice was tinny and distant but she recognised the gentle, deep voice of the Mordeyrn Aurddolen.

“Mordeyrn, is that you?”

“Ah, you do have the speaking tube. Good evening Cludydd.”

“Good evening.”

“I am delighted to be able to speak to you and so sorry that I was not able to be present at your coming or to defend you during your first day in the Land.”

“Oh, that’s all right. Arianwen, Berddig and the others were very helpful.” September felt strange having this conversation with the distant Mordeyrn. The copper horn was not a lot like her mobile phone.

“That is good. I presume you have begun your journey.”

“Yes, we’re camped for the night.”

“Good. I had intended speaking to you before you left, but we had a difficult time yesterday.”

“What happened?”

“We met with some manifestations of the Malevolence on the river. It took all our powers to evade them and continue on our way.”

“But you escaped.”

“Yes. We are safe now and tomorrow we should reach Dwytrefrhaedr. However I am concerned for your safety. The evil is growing stronger and I fear that you will encounter its various guises as you follow behind us.”

“I have my cloak.”

“Ah yes, the cloak of plwm and alcam. A most amazing development. It will certainly protect you but you must keep it around you and especially keep the Maengolauseren within its folds. Even a glimpse of its power may attract the wrath of evil.”

“Oh yes. I’ll make sure I do.” September felt a rush of guilt about almost pulling out the stone to show Tudfwlch.

“But even hidden, you may still meet up with evil. The Malevolence has subtle ways as well as the aggressive monsters that you have seen already. Remain observant at all times.”

“I shall, I shall.”

“I look forward to welcoming you to the Arsyllfa and to having an opportunity to discuss the part you must play in helping us through our great danger. Hasten, but take care.”

“We will.”

“Good. We will talk again at this time tomorrow evening. Sleep well, Cludydd.”

The Mordeyrn’s voice faded. September looked at the little copper horn sitting in her hand wondering how such an instrument could carry a conversation over hundreds of miles. She noticed that the singing had also stopped and looked up to see Cynddylig and Tudfwlch looking at her.

“You have been speaking to the Mordeyrn?” Tudfwlch said.

“Yes. I don’t know how this thing works.” September said, still grasping the horn.

“The art of the Cludydd o Efyddyn,” Cynddylig said not particularly helpfully.

“What did he say?” Tudfwlch asked.

“Oh, he said that they’ve had to fight their way past evil things but should reach Dwytref... whatever, tomorrow.”

“Ah, that’s about right,” Cynddylig nodded, “he has kept to the schedule he set. We have many days of travel to catch him up.”

“They have met the Malevolence?” Tudfwlch was worried.

“Yes, he said we must take care as there is evil along the river and even with my cloak it may try to stop us. Oh, and he said to hurry.”

“He’s right,” Cynddylig said, “The evil will attack anyone, villagers or travellers, hidden or not. The sooner we can get you to the Arsyllfa and into his protection the better. I think it’s time to settle for the night. We must be away at dawn.”

A wave of tiredness came over September. She wondered why since she had spent the day just sitting in the boat, but she was grateful for the thick, soft, sleeping bag. She shuffled down inside.

“Do you want to take first watch or shall I?” Tudfwlch asked.

“You go first, then I can be making ready for the journey on my watch,” Cynddylig replied.

“Oh, do you want me to take a turn?” September asked already feeling dopey.

“No, girl,” Cynddylig answered. “You do not have the knowledge of the Land. You would be waking us up at every chirp of a bird or call of an animal. Get your sleep while you can. I am sure you will need your energy at some stage.”

September was happy to lay down her head. With the cloak, and the wool around her and a full stomach she felt warm and content. Soon she was asleep.