Part 2 (1/2)
[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, s.h.i.+vering in the night-mist, for they durst not kindle a fire.