Hefin
found the long and wickedly sharp war-spear he had rested against a tree
earlier and whilst Bleddyn and Ioddo had been released to seek their pleasures,
he winked at Cadwy before going to his pre-determined lookout point in the
sure guarantee of the couple’s privacy.
Now
they were alone, Cadwy threw his right hand open in invitation and Eirwen
allowed him to lead her to his Beltain bower. She gasped at the sheer beauty of
his most thoughtful, vibrant creation and her eyes shone.
“Oh
Cadwy, it’s perfect! How did you know I loved celandines and primroses so
much?” She asked him in wonder, sitting on the comfortable seat and Cadwy
joined her carefully.
“Oh
you know, I have my sources!” He lied glibly with a twinkle in his eye, as he
fetched the wicker basket from the back of the bower. His nerves had
miraculously vanished and he suddenly realised that he felt completely at-ease
in her company now, but it was more than that now too. Eirwen threw back the
hood of her cloak and her glorious curls of shining auburn hair fell about her
throat and shoulders, in a profusion of copper and old-gold highlights. Cadwy’s
breath caught sharply in his throat and he covered it gamely with a polite
cough but was dismayed and he cursed inwardly, as his throat betrayed him
again with the most treacherous pink flush.
A
slim and subtle, highly stylised gold Torc of a superb quality adorned Eirwen’s
lovely neck and she wore polished emerald earrings tonight, which in their
brilliance struggled to compete with the enormous, bewitching emerald-green
eyes that looked right into Cadwy’s soul at that moment. Cadwy swallowed
painfully and attempted to gather his dignity about him again, like a wind-torn
cloak in a storm. The Lady Eirwen must have approved of what they discovered
there as she unleashed her dazzling smile on him now.
Cadwy
would come to swear that her spectacular smile could stop a charging bull at
fifty paces and it stunned him now with its intense beauty. It almost took his
breath away again and her teeth gleamed from behind the most kissable lips
Cadwy had ever seen and he swallowed again, noisily.
“A
little wine my Lady?” He offered gruffly, to cover his flush of ardour and held
out a beautiful silver goblet. Eirwen took it with another more enigmatic
smile, as Cadwy pulled the cork from a small amphora of the best red wine money
could buy in a hundred miles in any direction, and he carefully filled her
goblet and then his own.
“We
can’t go-on calling each other Honourable Lord Prince this and Honourable Lady
Princess that!” She declared with a grin, her sense of humour adding another
level of sparkle to her captivating eyes.
“How
about just Cadwy and Eirwen when we’re alone together?” Cadwy ventured openly.
“You’re
sure there’ll be another time?” She asked him directly, those same mesmerising
eyes changing so subtly he almost missed it, and as the tingling, hunting-alarm
pulsed in his brain he adopted a serious tone.
“Sincerely
hoping and wishing, my honoura...”
“Eirwen
and Cadwy will do just fine.” She interrupted him with another smile and
Cadwy’s heart did a flip.
Lifting
her goblet for the expected votive, Eirwen led him in the ancient custom;
“I’r Tad a Taid, a Nain Pawb. I gyd ein
cu-hynafiad; Parchu, Anrhydedd fawr a cofion am byth!” She toasted in her
melodious, lilting voice but with a clearly meant passion and belief which
shone in her eyes. Cadwy repeated the ubiquitous drinking oath in honour of all
their ancestors and he too held up his goblet, as he spoke the ancient words
with an equal intent;
“To
the Father, the Grandfather and to the Grandmother of all. To all our beloved
ancestors; Respect, Honour and we will remember you forever!” His eyes
glittered too at the oath and their eyes met then again, seeming to do-so now
without thought.
In
most Brythonic drinking halls once this mandatory oath had been sworn,
‘Cofion!’ was enough for subsequent charges and they both tasted the wine
together then with their eyes locked over the silver rims. Their eyebrows rose
in a concert of appreciation, as it was superb and full of delicious bramble
berry flavours. Eirwen leaned forward and took a piece of the emerald cloth of
his shirt between finger and thumb, feeling the quality of the silk and she
looked at the maroon design of his bracs, instantly realising their tonal relevance
and she blushed, causing a delicious rosy colour to flush her throat.
“Very
smart and my colours too!” She smiled
at him again, speaking in that most direct way of hers and it was like a breath
of fresh air to Cadwy. Eirwen then delved into a purse on her belt and
brought-out the beautiful golden stag pendant and chain he had sent her, so the
golden links caught the light as they spilled from her silk-gloved hand. “It’s
so beautiful Cadwy but I can’t accept this, it’s far too….well much!” She
blustered and held out the charm but Cadwy closed her own fingers back around
the pendant.
“I’ve
had it for years but it was yours the first moment we met, my Lady….Eirwen.” He
corrected himself earnestly, staring into the bewitching, captivating depths of
her beautiful eyes. Eirwen demurred for a long moment before she untangled the
chain, drew it over her head and hung it around her neck.
Cadwy’s
mouth hung open but only for the briefest of moments and his whole body was
suddenly bathed in the most glorious feeling, as this simple gesture meant the
whole world to him. He took another deep breath, before taking the goblet
tenderly from her fingers and sat it back in the basket at his feet, along with
his own. Then he took both Eirwen’s slender hands in his and his burning soul
soared into the heavens as finally, Cadwy thought he could taste success. For
one electrifying moment Cadwy accepted that this dazzling, terrifying Goddess
could actually become his woman and his mind whirled at the possibility. His
heartbeat rose but Cadwy recalled Hefin’s words and he gathered his mettle.
Eirwen’s
face had adopted a look of mild surprise, as he clasped her hands in his and at
the earnest look now on his face.
“Eirwen,
I’ve….” A loud crack on the bower wall interrupted him and Cadwy scowled. Hefin
was obviously playing the fool and had thrown a rock. The idiot couldn’t have
picked a more inopportune moment and a flare of anger burned inside Cadwy then,
as Hefin could be very childish at times but this was definitely not the right
time for his incessant tomfoolery. Cadwy had to suppress this sudden bloom of
anger for obvious reasons but he determined then, to read his battle-driver the
riot-act at the first opportunity and maybe, even a fat-lip wasn’t out of the
question this time. He shifted his seat, took a deep breath and tried to put his
childish cousin from his mind and compose himself once more, and their eyes met
again but now the shadow of question was in both.
Before
Cadwy could utter one more word, there was another even louder Crack! and the
heather shifted slightly beneath them. Now both their eyes flew wide open in
apprehension and Eirwen was about to speak, when there was another almighty
CRACK! and the floor of the bower slid suddenly away from under them both.
Cadwy’s heart nearly seized in alarm and he was instantly galvanised by one
crucial imperative; to stop them both from sliding over the edge of the ridge.
“Nooo!”
He yelled frantically, digging the heels of his riding boots into the shale to
slow himself down and his left hand clawed for a grip, a branch, a root,
anything! His right arm shot out and he tried to grab Eirwen’s arm, but she was
dropping too, quicker than he was and he just managed to snatch a fistful of
her cloak, but it was inevitable. With a sudden wet surge, they both began to
slide down the almost vertical scree of flowing, water-borne shale that had
undermined his bower. Eirwen’s brooch pinged
off somewhere and with horror twisting his features Cadwy was left gripping her
cloak, as she inexorably slid away from him, shock and terror clear on her face
as she fell.
Eirwen
screamed as she plummeted, being launched over the crumbling ridge to drop
almost twenty feet and she hit the flooded, muddy ditch of the river bank below
on her back and with an enormous starfish-like ‘Slap!’ The impact caused a
ring-wave of mud to explode outwards, as Eirwen splashed hard into the wet bog.
The mud recoiled almost instantly and Eirwen was inundated by the filth. Moments
later Cadwy fell feet-first into the same ditch of almost waist-deep, glutinous
mud, amid a shower of shale and he covered his head with both hands as he was
pelted with the sharp rocks. With bent knees, he hit the thick mud fast and
felt the sting as he plummeted into it, his face and both arms slapping hard
into the cold surface. Dipping up to his chest, the cold was a shock, driving
the air from his lungs with a loud gasp but he managed to keep his balance as
his feet met firmer ground. Cadwy stood and gulped-in air, almost choking on the
foul, waist-high mud. He spat it out and as soon as his footing was secure and
turned to his charge. Cuffing
the mud from his face, Cadwy’s fearful eyes flicked instantly to Eirwen, who
was trying to gain her feet unsteadily, her arms flailing as she fought for
balance. Standing forlornly barely twenty reeds away, she was almost completely
enveloped in thick, river-stinking mud but at least she looked uninjured.
“Eirwen!
Are you alright?” Cadwy called to her, concern clear in his voice. He tried to
wade through the gloop toward her, still spitting grit and mud, but it was like
a boyhood nightmare and he struggled valiantly toward her, still wiping the
odious muck from his eyes. “Speak to me Eirwen!” He yelled and Eirwen lifted
her head, but she looked utterly distraught, her lovely bottom lip protruding
in an adorable but mud-smeared pout.
“I
am whole and uninjured Cadwy thank you but look at me!” She wailed, holding her
arms out, as mud ran from them in gloopy bubbles. “My dress and cloak are
ruined, my hair is destroyed and I’m covered in stinking mud but apart from
that, I’m fine thank you very much!” She stated morosely, trying to flick the
mud from her arms. Cadwy ploughed onwards through the glutinous muck toward her, his
legs burning with the effort just as his neck burned with the embarrassment.
The ground rose a little as he approached her, so the going got a little easier
if not the search for words.
Eirwen’s
muddy left hand found her muddy left ear lobe and she let-out a plaintive wail.
“Oh
no, my Nain gave me these earrings!” She cried and her tears finally broke,
cleaving two clean tracks through the mud on her cheeks.
Cadwy
finally got to her and put his arms around her wet and muddy shoulders. She
instantly threw her arms about his soggy waist and hugged him, sobbing.
“And
your lovely new clothes are ruined too!” She sniffed and as Cadwy nursed the
lingering touch of stiffness in his neck with a free hand, her eyes flew open.
“Oh my darling Cadwy, your poor head, I’d forgotten!” She blurted out, her eyes
full of concern and one muddy but slender hand was pressed to his face.
Cadwy’s
soul soared, not only from her caring touch or the clear and obvious care for
his well-being in her mellifluous voice, but for that glorious, wonderful word
she’d used and darling echoed around
his mind, bouncing around his skull like a pebble in a whirlpool. His heart
pounded in his chest now just as painfully as she clung to him weeping.
They
both heard the unmistakable sounds of someone crashing through the undergrowth
amid the torn remains of Cadwy’s bower above them and Hefin’s red face appeared
above the now crumbled ridgeline, hanging onto a tree and with concern deeply etching
his young face. Hefin took-in the scene below him in an instant and suddenly
his face creased an entirely different way, using a different set of muscles
completely and Hefin began to fall-about laughing. He rolled about on the
crumpled ridge above them, completely helpless with laughter and Cadwy felt the
corrosive bloom of his mushrooming anger burn his insides again. His shame
fanned the flames and his fists clenched as he silently fumed at the echoing
laughter.
Hefin
seemed to pull himself together somewhat and headed down the pathway to the
timber bridge over this swollen brook and to the enwrapped, mud-glued couple in
its bankside ditch. They could hear his continued gales of laughter as he made
his way down and around to them. Cadwy’s anger bloomed again and dangerous
lights sparked then in his eyes at the mocking laughter, but Eirwen began to
shake a little differently in his embrace at that angry moment. He saw with
surprise that she was laughing and it spoke volumes about her character. It
was entirely infectious too and abruptly they were both roaring with laughter
in each other’s arms, bound by this muddy filth which cloaked them both but
also now by so much more.
Even
as he stood there in the cold mud, Cadwy realised that Eirwen had never looked
more beautiful to him as she did at that heart-stopping moment, entirely
mud-splattered and dishevelled but within that tiny, precise point in time Cadwy fell completely and utterly in love with Princess Eirwen ferch Ederus of
Galedon. As Eirwen looked up with the two pink lines running down her muddy
face, their eyes locked again and Cythera’s aim was just as steady tonight. For long seconds they just gazed into each other’s eyes, mesmerised. Then Cadwy
broke the spell and took her mud-splashed, beautiful face in both of his muck
covered hands and bent to kiss her. They folded into each other completely then
and kissed properly for the first time. An Adept would surely have seen heavenly
sparks flying from the pair of them and they could have been completely alone, in a
mist-wreathed mountain glade.
They
were oblivious as Hefin approached them wide-eyed but silent now, as he alone
knew that neither of their lives would ever be the same again.
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