5

The Sun was a great golden ball in front of her. As she got closer September expected the heat to become intolerable. After all, it was the Sun that warmed the Earth. How would she survive?

She wasn’t burned to a cinder. Although the growing Sun became brighter, making the stars invisible to her eyes, she didn’t feel heat. Was the blue glow that surrounded her protecting her? Now that the Sun filled her field of vision she realised that, like the Moon and the planets she had already visited, it didn’t look like what she might have expected. She recalled films showing huge flames leaping off the face of the Sun and a mottled, boiling appearance. Here the Sun was a uniform golden sphere.

She was on the surface. Well not exactly. She was floating a centimetre above the incandescent material that was the Sun. Even the air or gas around her glowed brightly, making it difficult to see far. She didn’t see the approaching spirits until they were close enough to speak. Their wraith-like bodies were luminous like the Sun itself and they had hair that varied from the yellow of daffodils to pale straw. There at the forefront was the spirit of Aurddolen, smiling warmly. September felt a spurt of happiness at seeing him.

“Welcome, Cludydd. You have travelled far and have a long way still to go but we are pleased because your arrival here shows that you have been successful in your first three tasks.” Aurddolen’s voice was formal but friendly.

“I think I am beginning to understand how things work,” September said, “I have to use my emotions to control the Maengolauseren and your tasks are teaching me the feelings I need.”

“That is correct, September. Only by drawing on the energy of the seven planets as well as the stars will you be powerful enough to overcome the Malevolence.”

“And Malice?”

“We have no knowledge of a spirit with that title.”

September was confused but before she could enquire further she noticed one of the most aged spirits stepping forward.

“I am Heulyn, Cludydd,” he said.

“The one who built the Arsyllfa?” This must be the cludydd o aur she had first heard of in Tudfwlch’s stories, who Aurddolen had told her about, whose book had set her on this trek through the solar system.

“That is correct.”

“The Mordeyrn who knew my mother?” He was ancient in appearance but still retained a power.

“I was honoured to accompany the Cludydd Breuddwyd. You are very alike. You and she are worthy bearers of the stone.”

“But she didn’t have a twin to make things worse.”

Heulyn ignored September’s comment as if he was reciting a recorded statement. “After Breuddwyd banished the Malevolence I devoted my life to preparing for the next Cysylltiad expecting it to follow the same pattern as before. All the cludyddau o aur that followed me including Aurddolen, continued my work.”

“You must complete your awakening, September,” Aurddolen said, “so that we can develop our plans.”

“So you have a task for me?”

“Of course. We are sure you will find the key to access the power of Haul.”

 

The noise was deafening; people shouting and screaming, the crash of stone pulverising stone, the roar of fires. A stench of burning wood and something else filled the air. Was it meat or human flesh? September felt dizzy. Where was she? It felt like she was on Earth or in the Land again. She rested a hand against a rough wall to steady herself. Men and women ran past, seeing her but taking no notice of her. She peered through the billowing clouds of dust and smoke that obscured her view. She seemed to be in a village or town. There were buildings of stone and wood although most now seemed to be in ruins. It was not a place she recognised.

She followed the people, picking her way over the debris of fallen stone and half-burned timbers that filled the streets and alleyways. There was a line of people ahead of her, their backs to her. They were kneeling or crouched down. A few held bows with arrows poised to fire, some grasped short swords, but most held rocks in their hands, ready to throw. September could see over their heads to hilltops and realised that the town was also on top of a hill. The people seemed to be gathered at the edge, looking down at something.

She edged forward until she was standing in the row of men and women waiting behind a low parapet. Then she saw what they were waiting for. Climbing the rough hillside, grasping at shrubs and outcrops of rock was an army, a motley, dusty, undisciplined army but a determined one. She couldn’t count their numbers but everywhere she looked she saw another figure, scrambling up the steep slope. They grasped all sorts of weapons in their hands – swords, knives, axes, scythes, burning torches, or simply heavy sticks. Some were close enough to see their faces. September recognised those faces. They were the same as she had seen at Glanyrafon, the faces of the servants of the Malevolence, faces that were distorted with hate. These people were driven with just one purpose – to do the bidding of the evil, to kill and destroy.

Beyond the attackers, lower down the hillside, September could see the reason for the town being a burning ruin. There were dozens of war machines. Each was different but each was designed to throw missiles of one sort or another. Even to September’s untrained eye they seemed makeshift and hastily lashed together from misshapen pieces of wood but they were effective. As she watched, one lobbed a boulder into the sky. It ripped through the air over her head and crashed into the unprotected town. Another fired a bundle of burning wood that passed over them dripping sparks and cinders.

“Get down, or you’ll get your head knocked off!” The man next to her tugged on the grubby gown that covered her body. He held a sling for flinging small rocks and looked to be in his fifties. “It won’t be long now before they’re at us.”

September saw the desperate look in his eyes. These people, these few people, were defending themselves against the hordes of the Malevolence with the rubble of their own homes and a few real weapons.

“Where are the cludydds?” she asked, wondering who was in charge.

“What are you on about? You know we have no cludyddau here.”

Not one cludydd, so there was no one to wield the power of iron or copper or lead or gold to defend these people from the power of the Malevolence. They were relying on their own strength and courage to repel the hate-driven attackers. September wondered why she was here. The noise, the smells, the eye-smarting smoke, seemed real but, she remembered, it was a test for her. What did the spirits of the Sun intend her to do?

She needed to pause to think, but the chaos around her, the missiles flying overhead and the knowledge that the army of the Malevolence was getting closer with every moment made her head spin. The starstone was still in her hand. She looked at it. It was cold and dark. What did she know about the power of gold? She had seen Aurddolen draw on its power to destroy the first Draig tân and a speck of gold powered the motor that drove her boat. Gold was a conduit for the energy of the Sun but it also seemed to imbue its bearers with the skills of leadership. Everyone looked to Aurddolen to guide the Land through the Conjunction and the invasion by the Malevolence as Heulyn had done before.

There was no gold here and no cludydd o aur. Very soon the townspeople would be fighting for their lives and their identities against the overwhelming numbers of the mindless attackers.

“Do you think you can defeat them?” September asked of the man beside her.

“How can we win against the Malevolence? We do not have the power.” A few of the defenders let fly with arrows. Each found its mark and the attackers fell but the vast numbers remaining took no notice and continued their advance.

“Why are you here then?”

The man showed surprise that she should ask such a question but answered her nevertheless. “There is no way of escape. We are surrounded. I will fight and die rather than become like them.” He nodded at the approaching horde now barely forty metres away. September recalled how the people of Glanyrafon had been turned to evil.

“They were ordinary people once.”

“That is true and some of our own folk have already been turned to evil in the same way. They killed their friends and families as well as destroying their own homes.”

“Is there no way they can be stopped?”

“A visitation from the Cludydd o Maengolauseren perhaps? Some hope.”

Hope. As he said it, September realised that was what Aurddolen and the other cludyddau o aur had within them. They radiated optimism and hope while the people trusted in them and had hope themselves. Wherever there was a cludydd o aur to plan and guide, the people were filled with the hope that they would succeed against the Malevolence. With the power of the Sun behind them, of course there was hope.

September felt the stone getting hot in her hand. She leapt to her feet raising her hand high. The dusty gown that had covered her dissolved into the air and she was clothed once again in royal blue.

“Cludydd?” the man cried out. Others surrounding her looked towards her, recognition dawning on their faces.

September took a deep breath and shouted, “Have hope!”

 

She was back on the Sun facing Aurddolen, Heulyn and the others. Her heart was thumping with the thrill of discovering how hope could defeat the enemy. She lowered her hand and gripped the starstone tightly again.

“Well done, Cludydd,” Heulyn said, “You discovered hope.”

“Yes, now I understand how you can prepare for a battle against something that seems impossible to destroy.”

“We know we cannot destroy the Malevolence, but you are correct, hope gives us the strength to stand against it and banish it from our world.” Heulyn said.

“Was I really there defending that town?”

“It was a vision of what could be,” Aurddolen said, “There are many places across Daear that have little defence against the manifestations and servants of evil other than what the people can provide themselves. They face pain, death or perhaps conversion to evil but yet they persevere. With the powers that you are acquiring you will be able to help them and give them hope.”

“Can’t you?”

“If I was there I could, but I cannot be everywhere and there are few cludyddau o aur.” September looked at the assembled spirits. There were many of them but she remembered that this included all the past cludyddau like Heulyn. Aurddolen was the only living one she had met or heard of. Then she noticed for the first time that they were all men.

“Are there no women gold bearers?”

“Aur and arian are the husband and wife of metals. The Sun and Moon determine who can become a cludydd. The Moon always chooses women, the Sun, men.”

“But your daughter, Heulwen, she carries gold and says she is your apprentice.”

Aurddolen looked sad.

“Heulwen certainly has a little aptitude for wielding gold and she has had a dream that Haul for whom she is named, will select her despite the rules.”

“Rules can be broken or changed.”

“Perhaps rule is the wrong word. It is a law of our universe that cannot be altered.”

“So Heulwen is wrong.”

“She is misguided. Her mother died when she was just a baby. As a child I taught her some simple ways of drawing energy from gold, barely more than anyone using an engine powered by gold can do. Then I had to leave her at the Arsyllfa while I toured the Land to spread the message of hope. I was absent for years during which Heulwen became convinced that she was my apprentice and would assist me in the struggle against the Malevolence. I have been unable to shake this belief.”

“She’s bananas.”

“I don’t understand.”

“She’s mad.”

“I hope not. Somewhat overconfident I feel.”

September didn’t say anything more as she felt that Aurddolen, or his spirit, had a rose-tinted view of his daughter. The opportunity passed as she felt herself lifting off from the Sun.

“Farewell, Cludydd,” called Heulyn, “Take our hopes with you for the rest of your journey.”

While Heulyn was smiling warmly, September saw that there was a frown on Aurddolen’s face. Perhaps his daughter is yet another worry for him, September wondered. Further thoughts about Heulwen slipped from her mind as the Sun diminished behind her. Now she was heading into the outer solar system; next stop, Mars. The planet was a red dot in front of her but it grew rapidly. A variety of vague but conflicting ideas about Mars flashed through her mind. Mars was the god of war but the planet was a dead, cold world covered in red rust. There was a link. There were three bearers of iron that she had met: Iorwerth, Iddig and Cynhaearn. They were also warriors as Tudfwlch had been.

 

The three cludyddau were at the front of the crowd of crimson spirits welcoming her as September’s feet touched the surface of the planet but she could not see the youthful features of Tudfwlch among them. The bright spot of the Sun, high in the sky, did not seem to dispel the ruddy gloom. September looked at the assembled cludyddau. There were women as well as men but they all looked strong and muscular and suited to wielding heavy tools and weapons too.

“Welcome, Cludydd,” Cynhaearn said, “We are eager for your presence among us.”

“Have you been waiting long?”

“Time has little meaning for us. The spheres of the planets continue on their endless rotation around Daear and the incursions of the Malevolence grow stronger but we do not measure hours or days. We knew the Cludydd o Maengolauseren would join us in the battle and we are delighted that you are here.”

“I am interested in what I have to learn here but first I wonder if Tudfwlch is with you?”

“I am sorry, he is not,” Iorwerth said, “News reached us that he had fallen to the Malevolence.”

“Then shouldn’t he be here?”

“Alas, Tudfwlch was an apprentice and not a cludydd. He hadn’t established the full connection with Mawrth that would have brought his spirit to us. It is a sad loss as I am sure he would have been a fine cludydd o haearn.”

“What happened to him when he died?”

“The spirits of the good return to the soil of Daear but those of servants of the Malevolence ascend above the stars.” Iorwerth said, “Do you know what death befell him?”

“I killed him – twice. First with the knife you gave me and then with the starstone. He was infected by the evil and attacked me.”

“Ah, that is a sad end. His spirit will now be full of hate and is merged with the Malevolence. You must remember his fate as you take the test that Mawrth has set.”

 

Again, September stood on ground somewhere in the Land. She was beside a river in a broad valley surrounded by snow-capped mountains. There were even patches of snow on the thin, sparse grass of the flood plain. This isn’t the Bryn am Seren, September thought, the mountains are far too tall. I must be in the Mynydd Tywyll. She noticed activity by the river a couple of hundred metres away. A party of people were climbing over a tangled heap of iron girders. September decided to join them. As she was again clad in luminous dark blue the people soon saw her and stopped their work in order to greet her. One man stepped forward. He seemed the oldest among the crowd.

“You are the Cludydd o Maengolauseren?” he asked.

“I am. What are you doing?”

“We have been attacked by the Malevolence. A Draig tân destroyed our bridge.” He indicated the wreckage. “It is haearn but our cludydd o haearn was killed by Llamhigwyn y dwr so we are unable to rebuild it.”

“Lam… what? That is a manifestation of the Malevolence I’ve heard mentioned but I haven’t met them.”

“You are lucky, Cludydd. They are immense creatures that have heads shaped like those of frogs, wings of skin like bats and tails of a lizard that carry a fierce sting. They arose from the river as the Draig tân struck the bridge. The cludydd attacked them with his great sword but one of the stings struck him down.”

September didn’t like the image she had of the Llamhigwyn y dwr.

“I see. The cludydd would have repaired your bridge, I suppose.”

“Yes. Our flocks graze on the other side of the river and the current is too strong for us to cross so the bridge is essential to our village. Without the cludydd we cannot rebuild the bridge. We have the cludydd’s tools but not his skill in manipulating haearn.” The old man struggled to lift a heavy hammer such as she could imagine Iorwerth wielding.

September was at a loss. How could she rebuild the iron bridge as the people expected? The Maengolauseren was useful for despatching manifestations and servants of the Malevolence, but how could it be used for manipulating iron? Of course, this was the task set by the cludyddau of Mars so she had to find a way. She had learnt how to wield the power of silver, mercury, copper and gold through the starstone, now it was the turn of iron. But as in each other task she had to find the correct emotion. She had seen Iorwerth brandishing his great sword, Aldyth, to kill the Adarllwchgwin. Iddig had shaken his sword at the Draig tân and Cynhaearn had made the iron framework of the Arsyllfa glow to withstand the attack lead by Malice. Each had bellowed oaths and imprecations against the attackers. But there was another side of the cludydd o haearn’s power. She recalled Tudfwlch telling of how he had been chosen as an apprentice after watching Iorwerth hammer red-hot iron into intricate shapes. How could they be both warriors and craftsmen? It was a puzzle and September couldn’t see an answer.

The old man escorted her to the heap of twisted iron that was the remains of the bridge. Some men were half-heartedly hammering at a girder, attempting to straighten it. The iron resisted their efforts. September guessed that to make the metal obey his commands the cludydd would have to assert his power, be aggressive even. She saw the red-faced angry Iorwerth fighting off the huge evil birds. Anger was the emotion of the warrior, but what about the peaceful ironsmith? No, September thought, though anger is the key it is not the wild anger of someone filled with hate or rage, such as the servants of the Malevolence, but a controlled aggression, a determination to make the iron fulfil its purpose. She could see the fierce, focussed anger of Iorwerth slashing with his sword or beating a red hot rod into shape. She was reminded of the fearful anger she had felt when Tudfwlch tore the Maengolauseren from around her neck and her iron blade had found its way into her hand and thrust almost of its own accord into his side. Wild, uncontrolled anger was bad, a tool of the Malevolence, but anger properly directed and tempered was a good emotion. She understood.

The stone responded and heated her hand. Stepping towards the ruined bridge she thrust her fist forwards, feeling her heart beating faster and her face glow with blood-red heat. She commanded the broken and bent bars of iron to remould themselves into their former shapes.

 

She was back amongst the ghostly red figures on the red planet. She panted.

“Did it work? Did the bridge rebuild itself?”

“Indeed it would have,” chuckled Iddig, “You commanded that iron like a true cludydd o haearn.”

“But it wasn’t real,” September said, “It was just a test to see if I could find anger.”

“Which you did,” Iorwerth acknowledged, “but you also realised that anger is a difficult emotion. Uncontrolled it is destructive. People who are angry are easy prey for the Malevolence if their anger is directed at their fellows out of disgust or envy.”

Cynhaearn added, “Even some cludyddau have succumbed to the Malevolence because our emotion of power can be subverted to hate,” September now knew why Tudfwlch had been converted by the Malevolence; when fighting the villagers of Glanyrafon his inexperience had allowed his anger to edge into hate and opened him up to infection by the evil.

Cynhaearn went on, “But kept under control and directed at the haearn itself the power of Mawrth is with you and you have the ability to bend haearn to your will.”

“And I’ve had another lesson in understanding my feelings. Thank you.” September felt herself moving away from the throng. “And now I think I’ve just got two more tests and two more planets to visit.”

“Farewell, Cludydd,” the men and women of Mars chorused.

September rose quickly from the surface. Her next destination was a distant bright spot in the star-filled sky. In fact it was some time before she was able to discern which of the stars was the planet until Jupiter took on the form of a silver-grey disc. Where are the coloured stripes and the great red spot? She wondered. All the pictures she had seen of the giant planet had pointed out the great storm cloud and she recalled how huge the planet was. But to her it was just a great dull silver sphere. Why did all the planets seem so featureless when telescopes and space probes showed that they were not? As she travelled through space unencumbered by a bulky space suit, September thought about the question. There were no telescopes in this world, she remembered, not even the astronomer of the Arsyllfa had one to look through. There certainly were no space rockets. She was seeing the planets as people had seen them and imagined them to be before telescopes changed astronomy. Before Galileo, she realised. This whole universe is a model of what people back home used to believe before Galileo and the others changed everything.

September felt triumphant that she had worked things out, but time for thinking was over. Her feet touched the dull silver surface of Jupiter. The anticipated ghostly figures quickly materialised around her. She looked for familiar faces and soon picked out the youthful features of Berddig, cludydd o alcam of Amaethaderyn and Betrys, the plump Prif-cludydd.

“Welcome Cludydd, it’s lovely to greet you, my dear,” Betrys said jovially.

“Thank you,” September replied, “It’s nice to see you too, but, Berddig, I’m so happy to see you again.” September felt that she wanted to hug the young cludydd but she didn’t think it was possible to grasp a spirit.

“And I too,” Berddig said, “I am pleased that you completed your journey to the Arsyllfa and that you are now learning the powers that the Maengolauseren gives you.”

September’s happiness was dampened by the memories of her journey.

“I wish I could have come on this magic journey without all the travel. Then perhaps Tudfwlch and Cynddylig and the others might still be alive.”

“Perhaps you needed those experiences to prepare you for your tasks and the trials that lie ahead,” Betrys said, still smiling.

“We celebrate your survival and praise the memory of Tudfwlch and Cynddylig,” Berddig said, “I hope the cloak of alcam and plwm carried out its purpose.”

“I think so. We just kept running into things where I had to use the starstone to protect myself. I wasn’t able to hide myself away under the cloak. But it is a marvellous thing.”

“And now you have come to learn how the power of Iau passes into alcam,” Berddig said.

“Alcam is a special metal,” Betrys explained, “Alone it has little power, but when its qualities are combined with the other metals they are stronger and can withstand forces of decay. There is greater power in a union between metals.”

Berddig nodded, “The same is true of people. Individually we can fall to the evil. Together we live in peace and prosperity and can oppose the manifestations of the Malevolence.”

“You were the one who made that happen in Amaethaderyn,” September said, recalling Berddig’s role in welcoming her and organising the villagers to protect and support her.

The young man smiled.

“Your memories are important. We hope our task will delight you.”

 

The crowd thronged around her. She hadn’t seen so many people in one place since she had arrived in the Land. They were in some vast room. She had a sense of a ceiling overhead but the walls were so distant that they could not be seen. The room, however big it was, was filled with people and they all seemed to be addressing her.

September was standing on a low dais so that she could just see over the heads of the men and women pressed together facing her. They raised their voices, each struggling to be heard.

“Help us!”

“You must do…”

“Strike them…”

“You are the Cludydd…”

She saw from the implements in their hands and the adornments on their bodies and clothes, that some of the crowd were cludyddau. Here was a cludydd o haearn shaking a hammer; there a bearer of copper holding a small trumpet; beyond, a wielder of silver with an amulet of the shining metal. Each and every one was shouting at her. No-one was speaking to their neighbour or waiting for a moment to take their turn. The sound of the raised voices was deafening. September held her hands to her ears, the stone still gripped in her left palm.

Crowds had always frightened her. She never wanted to be the centre of attention, had never performed on stage. At home she would have crumpled into a sobbing heap if just a few people had appealed to her in the manner of this multitude. She wasn’t at home though and September had learnt a lot about herself and about feelings. She didn’t collapse. She breathed gently and smoothly, shutting out the noise and the sight of the people, thinking.

What did the spirits of Jupiter intend by this task? Here was a bickering mass of people acting as individuals ignoring each other. Would a cludydd o alcam be able to calm them, bring order and get them to cooperate? Was that the power that Jupiter gave to the bearers of tin? If so, how did she draw on it?

What was the emotion that was the key to untapping the planet’s energy? She recalled Berddig’s last words to her. Which memories were important? Berddig had been efficient in organising the people of Amaethaderyn. The people, including the other cludyddau, looked to him for guidance and leadership which he provided cheerfully. Was there anything there?

She turned her thoughts to Betrys. She hardly knew the portly, jovial tin bearer but for the glee with which she had greeted her at dinner at the Arsyllfa. What was it Betrys had said to her? That her name meant ‘joy’. She seemed to be cheerful and jolly all the time. Indeed, although Berddig made serious decisions he too was always cheerful, always looking on the bright side, forever the optimist. What had he said? They would praise the lives of Tudfwlch and Cynddylig, not mourn them. Perhaps it was this feeling of optimism, of joy that drew people to them and gave them control over tin.

September was happy. She had the key to the power of Iau. She looked out again at the noisy, disparate crowd. She was not nervous of facing the mob. A feeling of elation filled her. She was jubilant. The stone warmed her hand. She raised her arms in the air and turned slowly in a circle radiating her smile.

“Friends. Listen to me,” she said.

 

She was facing the silver wraiths of Jupiter, each of them grinning broadly and clapping their hands with glee.

“Well done, Cludydd,” Betrys congratulated her, “You have indeed become a mistress of your emotions. You found the clues in our task most speedily.”

“Now you understand joy, you will find it easier to wield all the metals and to guide the people who support you,” Berddig said.

“Thank you,” September said ecstatically. She was filled with euphoria and confidence that she had all the tools for the task ahead of her. Well, almost all; there was one planet left to visit. She was already rising from the surface of Jupiter. The spirits waved their farewells.