Chronicle of Ages (12 page)

‘Nay, Lord, I beseech thee, there must be some way I can pay for my own offence.'

Oh, thou shalt pay for it, druid,
Gwyn assured.
And thy beloved queen shall pay with thee.

 

Grief-stricken, Selwyn sat pondering his misdeed from within the darkness of a hollow tree trunk. This was serving as his prison cell whilst Gwyn fetched Tory to his trial. The Druid had tried willing himself out of his entrapment to no avail; Gwyn ap Nudd must have enchanted the tree somehow.

He worried for the King and Queen of Gwynedd, whose blissful married life was to be destroyed on his account. The Dragon had sent him to appease the Tylwyth Teg and Selwyn had only served to offend their Lord even more grievously than Conan had. He didn't feel he could contest the charges, for in truth he could not say just who had seduced who. Still, had he known she was the object of the Lord of the Night's affection, he would never have allowed the affair to take place — or so Selwyn would like to have thought.

The trunk of the old tree parted, allowing the light from outside to flood in and blind him momentarily.

‘Selwyn!'

His heart sank at the sound of Tory's voice. Gwyn ap Nudd had succeeded in taking her prisoner. As his sight returned he came to focus on the Queen of Gwynedd, dressed in a beautiful gown of flowers that had her rooted to the spot.

‘Let me out of this thing!' she demanded, as she pulled at the train.

Beyond his Queen was a small army of winged beings, amongst the ranks of which he spied Amabel. Gwyn ap Nudd was conversing with Tory in another language, so Selwyn failed to follow a single word that passed between them. His Queen appeared most
confused, and kept looking to him for answers. Selwyn wished with all his being that he had some explanation, some comfort, or a means to rescue her from this unjust situation. Gwyn was appearing most pleased with himself as his attention turned to Selwyn.

Be this the woman who means more to thee than any other in thy world?

The way the God had phrased the question served to maximise Selwyn's humiliation. The tears he'd struggled to contain, feeling he did not deserve such a release, overflowed to trickle down his cheeks. ‘I have failed thee, Majesty.'

‘Nay, there must be some misunderstanding.' Tory jumped to his defence as she had always done, whereby Gwyn ap Nudd waved his hand and the neckline of the Queen's dress grew to smother her to silence.

Just answer my question, Bard?
Gwyn roared.
I know she be the one. I just want to hear thee declare it.

Selwyn glanced quickly from Tory to Amabel, before lowering his sights, unable to look either woman in the face. ‘Aye,' he conceded stubbornly. ‘This be the woman who means more to me than any other in existence.'

The Lord laughed with satisfaction. ‘Enough,' he decreed, holding a hand to Tory's third eye, whereupon she began to fade into a ghost that glowed a bright shade of violet.

‘Hey! Hello! Where did everybody go?' Tory looked down at herself, and noting the colour change she looked up to the sun. ‘Ultra-violet light,' she uttered with delight.

The Queen's enchanted gown of flora allowed its restraint to lapse and she began to wander around aimlessly in search of the assembly, as if they had vanished instead of she.

‘What hast thou done to her?'

The Otherworld hast many subtle levels, druid.
Gwyn replied.
No need to worry for her safety.

As Tory wandered aimlessly into the woods and out of sight, Selwyn chanced a glance in Amabel's direction. Her expression was nothing short of crushed in the wake of him professing his undying devotion for the Queen of Gwynedd.

‘Damn thee, Gwyn ap Nudd. I do not care if thou art a God, thou hast no right to toy with the emotions of others in this fashion.'

I did not do the toying, druid, I only exposed it. But I shall avenge thy deception after I see to the travesty that began at Craig-y-Ddinas. Denizens of the Otherworld prepare for battle.
Gwyn excited the winged masses to riot, whereupon they cried out their acknowledgment and vanished, Amabel with them.
Thy queen will be my victory dance, when I have taught thy kings a lesson in otherworldly relations.
Gwyn brought his hands together, whereby the tree trunk enclosed Selwyn in his dark prison once more.

Alone in the silent darkness of the tree, Selwyn's weeping seemed amplified, and despite his desire to calm and focus himself, the tears just wouldn't stop. Everyone he'd ever cared about was in peril and he could do naught to aid them.
I am a complete and utter failure.
He bowed his head, defeated, when the ground
suddenly dropped from beneath him and Selwyn found himself sliding at an amazing speed down into the underground.

The druid skidded to a stop in a dimly-lit subterranean cave. The light therein was provided by several large glowing fireflies that danced about Amabel's glistening form.

My love, art thou alright.
She flew to his side, her siren song conveying her deep concern.

‘I am not thy love!' Selwyn pulled away from her and rose. ‘Why did thee not tell me about thy connection with Gwyn ap Nudd?'

I do not love him, and I have never done anything that would lead him to believe otherwise, I swear it.

‘I have failed in my mission here, betrayed my king and country, and offended the Gods because of thee!' Selwyn accused, suddenly unburdening his anxieties. ‘I do not know much about thy kind, Amabel, but thou art able to perceive the thoughts of others. Thee must have known I had a greater purpose in Annwn. Why did thee cause me to forget it?'

The only answer Amabel had seemed very selfish in retrospect. She had not expected to fall so deeply in love with her patsy. ‘I shall help thee make amends,' she proffered in her defence.

‘Thou hast helped enough,' Selwyn declined coldly, closing his eyes to wish himself elsewhere.
I must get back to Craig-y-Ddinas in Abred at once.
As the ethers enfolded him, Amabel's haunting song transformed into a wail of anguish. But Selwyn had shut his heart off to her influence. Thus her cry moved him not.

 

The mist over Craig-y-Ddinas was heavier than ever and an eerie silence now prevailed. All the sounds of men at labour were mysteriously absent.

The first thought that occurred to Selwyn was that he'd manifested at the wrong location.

‘Hello!' The druid moved off, taking small, cautious steps. He shuffled along, avoiding obstacles that his feet encountered, when he heard a strange sound, like that of a large bird swooping in to land, heading in his general direction. Selwyn threw himself to the ground as a huge beast passed overhead, stirring up the mist in its wake.

Now the druid beheld the blanket of corpses on which he lay and screamed out his horror as he scrambled over the mass of body parts to a patch of unbloodied ground. As he paused to collect his shattered sensibilities, he began to tremble uncontrollably. ‘The Goddess hast abandoned us,' he uttered, leaning down to inspect a couple of the corpses more closely. The body closest to him was that of the mason who had been so helpful earlier, and Selwyn was shocked to discover that he'd fallen victim to his own masonry tools.

‘The Tylwyth Teg art deceivers beyond compare,' the druid decided as he rose and wandered in the direction the beast had been headed. If it wasn't King Maelgwn, as he suspected, then perhaps the beast would eat him and put an end to his nightmare.

‘Who goes there?'

Selwyn halted upon hearing Maelgwn's voice and turned to face the direction it had come from. A warm
wind swept over him, clearing a path through the mist to the King of Gwynedd and his dragon.

‘Selwyn.' Maelgwn neared, appearing relieved to see him. ‘Praise be. Thou art alive!'

Selwyn was horrified to see his King waving a sword about. ‘Put the sword away and do not draw it again in this mist. It will kill thee.' When Maelgwn committed his sword to its scabbard, Selwyn breathed a little easier. Thank God he had found Maelgwn; if anyone could save Tory he could. ‘Hurry.' He began to hobble back towards the steep incline that led to the vale.

‘Stop.' Maelgwn pulled the Merlin to a standstill. ‘Tell me thy woes first.'

Selwyn started falling apart again, crying and shaking uncontrollably. ‘How can I tell thee Gwyn ap Nudd hast stolen thy wife, and it wast on my account that he did so.'

Maelgwn's tune changed considerably and he grabbed Selwyn up by his robes. ‘Gwyn ap Nudd hast Tory? Where?'

Selwyn pointed back into the mist, but bowed his head as he recalled the wandering, ghostly state Tory had occupied when last he'd seen her. ‘I know not any more.'

‘Try harder.' The King turned him around and urged him to get moving.

Selwyn was in a daze as the mist closed in on them again, but was startled back to his senses when the heavy white shroud took on the blue-white glow of the ethers.

The misty light cleared to reveal a beautiful garden, laden with ripe fruit trees and flowering plant life of
every species and colour imaginable. In the midst of this paradise was the vague image of a bed. Its ghostly form glowed violet, as Tory had done, and was the only thing in the vicinity that appeared thus.

There thou art, druid.
Gwyn ap Nudd clamped a hand down on Selwyn's shoulder, appearing in fine spirits as he near startled his victim out of his wits.
Time to receive thy punishment.
The God forced Selwyn to a chair that was molded into a tree trunk.

The arms of the chair enfolded the Merlin's body to entrap him in their hold. ‘Nay!' Selwyn cried, as he tried to wriggle free.

Gwyn ignored the druid's protest to look into the passage through the mist from which Selwyn had emerged. ‘And who has thee brought with thee?' he inquired of his prisoner.

‘Maelgwn, King of Gwynedd,' Selwyn informed as if it were a threat.

The husband? Splendid!
The painted warrior slapped his hands together and rubbed them, delighted by the news.
All the worse for thee.

As Tory's ghostly form entered the garden, Gwyn ap Nudd waved to Selwyn and assumed the same transparent form he'd awarded Tory.

It dawned on Selwyn what the God had planned. ‘He be going to seduce Tory before our very eyes,' he uttered in horror, as he heard Maelgwn approaching.

‘Selwyn!'

‘Here, Majesty,' cried the young Merlin as he watched Tory observe the bed — obviously rather surprised to find it in the middle of a garden. As she
approached to lay upon it, Selwyn yelled. ‘Nay, Majesty, thou dost not want to do that.' But his warning fell on deaf ears.

‘What art thou babbling about now?' Maelgwn came to stand over the druid. ‘And how on earth did thee get stuck in that stump?'

‘Gwyn ap Nudd put me here … to witness my punishment.' He motioned Maelgwn to the glowing violet ghost of his wife, making herself comfortable on the spectral bed in the middle of the garden.

‘Tory?' The King moved to admire his wife more closely — the amazing gown of flowers she wore was most becoming.

‘She cannot hear us, nor see us.' Selwyn advised. ‘She dwells on a different level of Annwn to the one we now occupy.'

Maelgwn's expression had turned stormy by the time he turned back to the Merlin. ‘I want to know the meaning of this … and why thou art accepting the blame?'

‘It would seem I chose the wrong etheric world entity to seduce, Majesty … she wast the intended of Gwyn ap Nudd.' Selwyn lowered his eyes to deliver the rest of his explanation. ‘As I have no woman for him to vent his revenge on, the Lord of the Night hast taken my king's woman instead.'

Maelgwn raised his brows, stunned by the nature of the indiscretion. He frowned, annoyed by Gwyn ap Nudd's random method of retribution, and finally exhaled heavily, resigning himself to just deal with the situation and not waste time on laying blame. ‘Doth Tory know this?'

‘She knows she shall be Gwyn ap Nudd's compensation for something I did, but —'

‘Shh!' Maelgwn ushered him to silence, as he saw the ghostly form of a huge warrior approaching his wife. ‘Gwyn ap Nudd?' he posed.

‘Aye,' Selwyn confirmed.

Tory sat upright upon sighting the Lord of the Night, greeting him with a huge familiar smile. She rose and embraced the warrior, laughing with him as they spoke.

Selwyn could not see Maelgwn's face, but his hands had clenched into fists. The King's one flaw was that he was insanely jealous when it came to his wife. ‘It be not her choice, Majesty. She hast been enchanted.'

‘Rufus!' Maelgwn turned away from the vexing situation.

With a snarl and great puff of smoke, Rufus stuck his upper body in through the misty porthole between realms.

‘Thee vowed to guide me through the otherworldly realms … can thou take me to my wife?' Maelgwn asked and stood quietly, nodding as he received information from his affiliate, the King's frown ever increasing. ‘So, dost that mean yea or nay, Rufus. I am running a little short on time here?' Maelgwn glanced back to see Gwyn backing Tory onto the bed, and Tory was succumbing to his advances.

Rufus held out one of his talons, underside up, and with a grunt urged the King to stand upon it.

‘What about me?' Selwyn wriggled in his seat.

Maelgwn bethought his affiliate for some advice, and then relayed the information back to Selwyn. ‘Rufus
suggests willing thyself out of that illusionary constraint and coming with us. But if that will prove a problem, I shall send Rufus back for thee.'

Selwyn didn't even have to push the restraints from his body, for upon accepting the possibility that his bonds were imaginary they simply resumed their true form as armrests for the chair. ‘Wow!' Selwyn was amazed at the power awarded him by a simple swing of perception.