Star of Mercia Part 2

[5] Gwrtheyrn had Taliesin's mystical account of his incarnations in mind.

"There is no end to the soul," Mogneid replied. "And every soul returns to a body when he may find one. Come, O King, take heart. We shall trample upon the necks of Ambrosius and Garmon."

"Kinsman, do what you can," said the King. "I rely on you."

Mogneid left him then, and sought the Queen's apartment. He despised the King's wife, but as a tool she might be useful.

Gwrtheyrn, sobered now, beat his brow in turmoil of another sort.

"Beast or bird"--he cried--"man or woman--or wandering, bodiless spirit! Or purgation by fire--or to roast in flames for ever! I believe--I believe in h.e.l.l! G.o.d--if Thou beest G.o.d ... O Christ, Christ! I am lost--I cannot repent!"

Germa.n.u.s of Auxerre and his colleague Lupus came to Caer Gwrtheyrn, aflame with zeal for G.o.d and for the Church. In his palace hall they upbraided King Gwrtheyrn, calling him the shame and scandal of all Britain. As for the royal culprit, he would not hear them patiently.

Furious words were bandied between them.

"Things shall be as I will!" roared Gwrtheyrn. "Am I not lord in my own dominions? Presumptious shaveling! what thinkest thou I care for thy preachments?"

"O Gwrtheyrn, egregious sinner!" said Germa.n.u.s. "Know that we have power behind us. Ambrosius, who is near at hand with his army, will soon be here, to punish or to break thee. Who will comfort thee with the rites of holy Church if we proclaim thee outcast? Fortunate art thou if thou escape so easily. Lupus and I will fast upon the Lord G.o.d until He grant our demands concerning thee. Ere many days, heaven will pour down fire upon thee, to shrivel up thee and thine and all thine ill-famed land!"

This curse carried such terror to all standing by that even Mogneid durst not suggest that the King should order the seizure of the holy men, and they two pa.s.sed out and went their way. Said Mogneid to Gwrtheyrn:

"If Ambrosius come upon us, and Garmon and his monks from Llanharmon, we are undone, and they will surely do thee to death. I can think of only one resource. Thy Queen--has she not Saxon kindred about Pengwern, not forty miles away? I think she will be persuaded to send them messages. We will make allies of them; and should Ambrosius besiege this fortress, we can hold out within, until the Saxons come to deliver us."

"Do what thou wilt," answered Gwrtheyrn. "Speak thou to my wife. By now she must have heard some story of my pretty dear."

The Queen was not jealous; and very readily she dispatched a runic writing and another token to a kinsman of hers whom she knew to be commanding the Saxon outposts at Pengwern. These were entrusted to three huntsmen of the King's, who had by heart every path and by-track in the country. Gwrtheyrn and Mogneid made fast the defences, and provided arms for every man of the King's subjects near at hand who could be spared from gathering in the harvest in feverish haste.

But, on the morning of the next day, Eliseg brought dire tidings to Caer Gwrtheyrn. The monks of Cilfachau had taken all three messengers, and had carried them off to Germa.n.u.s at Buallt. And the army of Ambrosius had been seen moving upon Gwrtheyrn's palace.

"We must to Llanaelhairn, in the valley that opens into Lleyn from the bay of Arvon," said Gwrtheyrn. "There it will be hard for them to follow us."

"My plans have failed," thought Mogneid. "I came hither too late.

Cousin Gwrtheyrn cannot weather this storm."

In a very little while, their preparations were made and they set out: the King and the Druid; the Queen upon a pillion behind Eliseg; Dyfnwal and all the men of the household, a few of the women whose homes were inaccessible, and every man of the royal hamlet who could be quickly armed and mounted--leaving Caer Gwrtheyrn to whatsoever might befall.

For seven hours they rode to the north-west. After pa.s.sing the confines of Gwrtheyrn's own lands, they kept to the course of the Wye, which river became narrower and more rapid with every frequent bend.

They travelled slowly, for they were an unwieldy party. About sunset, an ominous smoky glare appeared in the sky in the region they had abandoned.

"They burn Caer Gwrtheyrn!" said the King; and he wept uncontrollably.

At nightfall they came to the outskirts of the waste about Plinlimmon.

This was an uninhabited tract, part oak and elm thicket, part alder-shaded swamp. In the higher reaches, huge craggy hills arose like spectral scaly monsters gathering their strength for a spring.

Beyond lay the open moorland where Wye has its rising, and where Severn is a tiny trickle, whose source is unknown to man. Owls hooted in this wooded valley, and there were strange flutterings, squeakings and snappings, and patterings over the ground. The King's men refused to go farther.

"The dogs of h.e.l.l are abroad, lord!" cried one. "Arawn's hounds--yes, yes! Once it is dark, they roam this desert place. There is fearful they are now. White they are, every one, with rose-red ears, and their jaws foam and drip. And the man who sees them--sure to be ailing from that very hour, and die before long, and that is a fact. Very, very unlucky! Let us stay where we are, now!"

They wailed and besought so piteously that Gwrtheyrn had to permit a halt in spite of the friendly moonlight, and of Mogneid's whispered urgings. A long low cave was near at hand: into it they packed, shivering in the night-mist, for they durst not kindle a fire.

They pa.s.sed a restless night; only the Queen slept soundly in the cave on the borders of the haunted forest. Then on once more over the rocky track that led through Arwystli and Meirionedd to their goal, the peninsula of Lleyn.

"I dreamed of Garmon," said Gwrtheyrn, as they started. "His face glowed white, like hottest iron, kinsman Mogneid--I cannot forget it.

He is fasting upon his G.o.d, to procure my destruction."

Mogneid answered nothing, but gnawed his lip.

"Llanaelhairn must we make upon the morrow," continued the King. "It is a little old fortress of my father's building, for to guard the valley beneath Yr Eifl from attack by sea: I myself have not set foot there for more than thirty years. The way thither is little known, and I wager Emrys will be finely entangled once or twice if he endeavour to follow us. But there are caretakers, and there should be flocks and herds for our regaling."

That night they spent in Arthog. A hospitable Goidelic lord overwhelmed them with attentions, giving them what food he had, and they pa.s.sed the night in and about his dwelling. Across the estuary of the Mawddach, the forsaken druidic stones showed white and awful.

By noon next day, they had reached the borders of Lleyn. By late afternoon, as they pursued their rough, scarcely distinguishable, interminable way, the Queen grew querulous. She could ride no longer; every muscle in her body ached; she must drink deeply from a tumbling spring that ran across their path, and bathe her face, hands, and feet; she was hungry, and here were bilberries. Surely they were safe from their enemies? And every one was sun-dried and speechless!

Well, she might rest a breathing-while: they might all stretch their limbs and eat and drink their fill.

"But come thou on with me, cousin," said Gwrtheyrn. "I cannot stay still. We will go ahead, and spy over the hills before us, and seek the readiest way." To the commander of the men-at-arms: "Look you, tarry not long, for sunset will soon be upon us."

Said Eliseg to Dyfnwal, "They are gone together, the King and he. I like not the evil lowering of his face this day. We should follow them."

"At once!" said Dyfnwal. "The bay and the roan are the fleetest."

The sky had clouded over, and there was a rainy light in the western quarter.

"Look yonder!" cried Mogneid, when they had ridden some two miles farther.

A great army of hors.e.m.e.n was winding about the foot of the hills of Pennant, and at their head was something, broad and scarlet-gleaming, that flapped in the evening breeze--surely the dragon-standard of Ambrosius.

"Then the end is come," said Mogneid.

"On to Llanaelhairn!" Gwrtheyrn exclaimed. "Once there, we can get the cattle within, and hold the ford, belike, with my people that dwell there. Hasten, kinsman, hasten! The others have sure guides; they cannot miss the way."

When they reached the ford of the little brook, now called by King Gwrtheyrn's name, that flowed beneath the walls of the fortress of Llanaelhairn, the moon was shining, and the clouds were fewer. They crossed the castle forecourt. Not a soul was about, for the land-maer and his family had gone to the upper pastures to bring in the sheep and cattle. As they opened the hall door, the stifling atmosphere beat heavily against their faces. A fierce fire was burning, upon which the women of the household had lately roasted whole the carca.s.ses of several sheep. After glancing around, Mogneid sped up the stairway leading into the look-out tower, and Gwrtheyrn followed him into the small, low chamber at the top. He found Mogneid before its half-ruinous window, tugging at the rusty iron grating that screened the aperture.

Presently the mortar that had held it crumbled, the whole frame-work came away in Mogneid's hands, and he cast it violently upon the floor.

Then he returned to the window. Above him the heights of the Rivals towered; away to the west, the sea-waves lapped sullenly; below, Nant Gwrtheyrn ran very low in its stony bed.

"What hope is there now?" cried Gwrtheyrn the King. "What hast thou done for me, Mogneid my kinsman, who promised so much? Garmon is a greater curser than thou--his magic mightier. The ancient G.o.ds have lied to thee, Mogneid--they delude thee--thou art not their favoured one! Wilt thou give me back my kingdoms, thou who hast all things of power at thy fingers' ends!" He rushed upon the other with a snarl like a wild beast's.

Mogneid son of Votecori turned upon him a look that scorched, and Gwrtheyrn cowered back against the wall, shaking from head to foot.

"Thou sc.u.m of dross! Thou refuse thing! Thou drunkard and son of drunkards! Aye, a high destiny hadst thou once--until thou gavest over thy will to sloth and rottenness! Talk ye of hope, my lord? Was Ambrosius ever known to spare? Well, there is one way--by this opening, see you?--it is fully wide enough: a man may lower himself; it is a swift ending. Concerning what will follow, these Christians lie. Perchance thou wilt become a silvery salmon, very wise, in Wye or Dyfi; or a wallowing hog; or Emperor of the West, perchance, or Pope of Rome. Jump, Gwrtheyrn, King of Gwrtheyrnion, Buallt, Erging, Ewyas, and Caer Glouwy, sometime Pendragon of all Britain, and flee shame!"

"Shame--only that ... I must flee shame!" muttered Gwrtheyrn, climbing into the window as though compelled by the fascination of Mogneid's eye. "I must--I will ... I cannot...."

He faltered on the edge, but the Druid, standing behind, pushed him, and his long body fell hurtling through the air.

After peering for a moment at a certain motionless dark patch upon the stones below, Mogneid descended the staircase, in haste to make his escape.

Eliseg and Dyfnwal caught him in the doorway. They carried him, bound hand and foot, into the hall, and threw him upon the fire that still burned brightly. After a little while, they took him off the fire, and hacked off his head with a chopper that was used for jointing meat.