Iron Blood & Sacrifice
Cyfranc Newydd Lludd a Llefelys
Tri Gormesoedd o Prydein.
(The three plagues of Britain).
Perhaps it shouldn’t have come as any surprise to Lludd that this man
should seek him out now, now that he had utterly vanquished Cartysman and had
been instrumental in the overthrow of his most generous patron; King Afyn but
Lludd had become distracted with so many pressing issues, especially as Caesar
was almost ready for his threatened return. In retrospect, he may have heard
the name Arawc mentioned as one of
Coritana’s merciless black Priests, but it hadn’t registered at the time and he
cursed himself now for the amateurish oversight. Changing very strangely for
dinner, Lludd’s features relaxed and the frown faded as he considered the night
of music, laughter, wonderful Cymbric food and the very finest curmi-da which
lie ahead, all of which he will miss entirely.
The feast is in full swing and the King sits front and centre of the top
table, set square in the centre of the raised dais and on his late father’s
dinner-throne. The grisly Cymbric Gŵyrd hulked over the front tables had
unfathomable looks on their dour faces, as they surveyed this immaculately
dressed noble before them with the golden crown of Cymbri on his head, as
although the man in the crown with his left-hand only on show looked the part
to an outsider, it was not the legendary Lludd Llaw Ereint.
Lludd adjusted his position slightly and reviewed the series in his
head. The pattern had to be followed, or the sequence would be interrupted and
then it would become a free-for-all, which wasn’t exactly advisable in the dark
confines of these underground tunnels. He knew Arawc wouldn’t be able to resist
stealing the rest of his valuable stores, right under his nose while he’s
stuffing his face in the great hall above. A large barrel of Druid’s water was
open beside him, not with a spigot as expected but the lid had been prised off
and left open just a crack, so that Lludd could make use of the refreshing
water. He knew too what Arawc will try first; Swyn y Cysgu – the sleeping spell, as that is exactly what he would
do in case there was someone waiting for him down here. It was probably the
spell he cast each and every time he’d come down here to steal, knocking his
stewards and slaves unconscious, with no lingering memory of any alarming
calamity befalling them. They would just wake up, arise and go about their
business as if nothing had happened. Losing small chunks of time had become
endemic in CaerBeli of late but of course nobody could remember, and so it
never got reported.
He had all that he needed secreted about his hooded cloak and a good
plan had been laid, so it was now in the laps of the Gods, as it always has
been and will be, until the end of days. Breathing deeply and evenly, Lludd had
resided in the ‘white-zone’ of Cornonnyn this last hour, charging his spiritual
energies and restoring the continual physical drain which had been made on him
recently. The slightest sound caught Lludd’s attention, sounding like the scurrying
of a small rat but Lludd knew differently, as there wasn’t a single living
thing down here apart from him. He had prayed for the power of Swyn y Chwalu – the spell of clearance
and it had worked. Every living creature had fled, even the insects and these
tunnels had become as still and as silent as HênDdu’s mysterious Nyfed. This pitter-patter of tiny rodent
feet approached but he knew this was no rat. Lludd’s white teeth glinted in the
gloom as he considered Arawc may well look just like his late father now, so he
may at least look like a rat. In character he was certainly rodent-like and the
menacing, scurrying and scratching sound got nearer, then it stopped.
Lludd felt the first soporific waves of the sleeping spell come-on him
like a mug full of strong spirit and he carefully lifted the ladle and poured
the cold water from the barrel over his head. He was squatting on a wad of
sacking and this cold water trickled down his body, soaking the inside of his
linen shirt and dripping silently to the rough jute weave under him, but it was
enough along with his powers, to counter this invasive, alien sleepiness. There
were very few effective counter-spells and they were the most difficult to
cast, as the timing had to be nothing short of perfect and if they were not, or
there was some other flaw in the delivery, it could worsen the situation,
multiplying the power of the attack and so Lludd would hold onto these, until
he absolutely needed them.
Physical action always went hand-in-hand with the magic of the Dewin and
to some extent just like this cooling water, they could offset the power of
some spells. Lludd would use every trick in the book in this coming duel,
before and alongside his more esoteric powers, as husbanding that power in any fight was critical.
The informed will know that any curse or spell will last no more than a count
to thirty-three. However, the power and duration of its effect will depend
entirely on the remaining power of the individual conjuring it. A spell cast by
an exhausted Dewin would commence with a whisper, build to a crescendo and then
fade-out as the count came to an end. In contrast one cast by a powerful Dewin
at the height of his power, would blaze out with unavoidable and indefectible
power, thundering out for the full count of thirty-three. However, there were
too ancient spells and arcane curses to slow or speed-up that count, so it was
always a highly complicated endeavour. Put two powerful Dewin together in
combat and these complications multiply exponentially.
The spell was fading now and Lludd no longer needed the assistance of
that sanctified and blessed water, so he could focus his energy on the measured
release of Swyn-Anwelad; the spell of
invisibility and concealment. He could feel the unseen glow of this protection around
him building softly and Lludd held his breath, slowing his heart almost to a
stop, just as a black shadow passed him in the dark. He felt the power of Arawc
as he ghosted past and it made him feel a little bilious, as that creature seemed
to be issuing low levels of Rheg-Cyfogi; the vomiting curse. This could well be
subconscious on his part and emanating from him as a symptom of his twisted
mind and wicked ambitions, and as Lludd’s heartbeat and breathing returned to
normal he grinned to himself in the dark, spitting out the foul taste of his
adversary.
Creeping up this dark tunnel now behind Arawc, Lludd could see some kind
of glimmer ahead and his grin became a snarl, as Arawc was obviously depleting
his power to see where he was going, whereas Lludd knew every sandy inch of
these tunnels and he and his brother Caswallawn could walk them blindfold, as
they had spent their formative years exploring their web-like network of
intersections, dead-ends and secret parallel passages.
“I come for you Lludd
un-llaw!” A sibilant, mocking hiss
spoke from somewhere in this impenetrable darkness and Arawc was clearly using
the Swyn y Sisial; the floating,
disembodied whisper of a snake. “I have waited for this moment for years
one-hand and before I end your worldly life and condemn you from the next, I
shall have my vengeance!” The Dewin’s adder hissed again from another black
corner, but Lludd ignored it and waited quietly in the dark, his eyes
glittering. The moment was soon at hand, as Arawc had reached
the first location and Lludd focused the bright, pin-point of light at the
front of his mind almost without thought. His inner-eye opened and with a burst
of power he cast Rheg y Cyfarth; to accost an opponent with an object.
Just as he found
the cleft in the left-hand wall to the secret tunnel, he heard the crash of
falling barrels. The glimmer ahead and around the corner wobbled and Lludd
heard a hissing curse, as one of the tumbling barrels he’d prepared made a
softer thump than the ones hitting the floor, followed by a distinct splash
from the spilled contents. Jinking into this hidden passageway, Lludd was
grinning as he shot up this sloping and impenetrable tunnel, using the
spirit-step of a Dewin and soundlessly he drew ahead of his opponent, arriving
like a ghost at his next pre-planned location. This secret tunnel ended at a
small hole, high up in the wall of the tunnel below it had bypassed, and both
brothers had used this as an ambush point on each other in their childhood cledd-y-pren swordfights. He wasn’t sure
if he could still squeeze through this ragged hole and drop down to the main
passage as he used to, but he didn’t need to attempt that contortion this time
and so he made himself comfortable.
The first spell he
conjured was an internal one and for himself, as Swyn-Eglur boosted
clear and lucid thinking and Lludd felt the icy rush course through his brain,
coming alive suddenly and the darkness all around him brightened in his eyes.
Now primed for his outwardly propelled curses, Swyn y Cur to cause a
brief but blinding headache, Rheg y Poen causing sudden pain to the legs
and Rheg-Dirgrynu; causing
your opponent to convulse, were cast swiftly one after another through this
aperture and down the passage below toward his approaching enemy, making the
utmost of this heightened state. A small part of him registered the thumping,
groaning and wriggling sounds as Arawc was battered by his triple-curse but his
concentration was undimmed. He used his power to pulse this curse and he kept the pressure-up, releasing it in
powerful waves. As the period counted down, he prepared another and he conjured
Rheg y Glynu; causing an
adherent reaction to a person and with an elemental flash, the groaning Arawc
was glued face-down to the dirty floor. Lludd withdrew from the hole in the
wall with another wry grin and returned the way he had come, down the secret
tunnel and emerging behind Arawc once more. No-doubt that sorcerer will have
perceived the direction those assaults came from and would move forward again,
seeking out his adversary and Lludd now stepped up silently behind him.
Soundlessly
and sightlessly, Lludd crept up this tunnel and knowing exactly where he was,
he also had a fair idea of where his rival lay and was considering Swyn y Cyndyn; a spell which caused your opponent
to become headstrong and reckless, as he thought this might tip this unbalanced
character over the edge. He was struck then by a wave of malevolent and
spiteful force, as if he’d been hit with a mallet. Lludd groaned at this
shocking force which had so suddenly assailed him, and it dropped him to one
knee, making him realise with a cold stab that he had underestimated his
opponent, a foolish and possibly fatal mistake. He trembled now with the effort
it took just to keep this monstrous power at bay, knowing that Arawc had
about-turned and was approaching but it took all his might to battle this
mushrooming, painful surge and he felt sweat pop-out all over his vibrating
body from the effort. The immense and killing-rheg; Graffwr y Calon grabbed him then, adding its terror to this almost
unbearable maelstrom assaulting him and Lludd felt powerful claws close around
his heart at that dreadful moment. Brought to his knees with white-hot agony
blossoming in his chest, his breathing became laboured and his eyes were stark
in the darkness.
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