'Pencampwr' Bleddyn ap Arawn of Selgofa and Albion. (Champion of the Boar)
As Hefin, Bleddyn and Brast gathered the reins
of the captured horses, Olwydd and the ghost-warriors gathered around one of
their number on the ground and Cadwy realised it was Cadwr Tâw. His heart sank,
as he saw a red gout of blood pour from the man’s mouth and the eternally quiet
but ferocious warrior died with a just wet cough. Cadwy had always admired the
taciturn man, knowing too that he was a close colleague of Olwydd’s, not just
in the sacred brotherhood of the ghost-warrior but in a holy and very secretive
order in Breged. The huge and seemingly indomitable Olwydd Hîr along with his remaining
ghost-warriors were bereft, as their deaths were uncommon and always came at
great cost. Three Gadwyr were also down, and their comrades tended them as
Brith lumbered over to the Selgofan Prince.
“What’s the cost Brith?” Cadwy asked him
dourly, his eyes not leaving the dead ghost-warrior and his old friend and
battle-brother.
“One of mine is lost Lord, a further two are
injured but not hampered too much from running. Sadly we have lost a
ghost-warrior but for what we have achieved so far, the cost is negligible.”
The man rumbled with an appreciable nod.
“We must leave them, your men know this?”
Cadwy asked him directly and Brith nodded again but lowered his head.
Cadwy knew it went against everything in his
credo to leave any of his brothers behind and it was especially hard to take
here, as these two fallen brothers would be abandoned in a foreign country.
There would be no chance of their brotherhood ever retrieving their bodies in
the future, but the truth in the young Prince’s words were undeniable and were mirrored
in Brith’s stark eyes. However much they had achieved here their mission still
lay ahead of them, as they couldn’t rely on the slim chance of the two departed
ghost-warriors reaching Ederus with the news. Their one overriding concern was
still reaching the coast and their ship in-time, to be able to warn Ederus and
prevent him from making land and sealing his own and all Galedon’s doom. Time
itself was running out now and as no more words were necessary, the two turned
to their comrades. Cadwy helped his spectacular and pregnant wife mount one of
the appropriated horses, whilst Olwydd turned to survey the battlefield for a
last time and with a grieving heart.
The bodies of their fallen brothers had been
concealed in the undergrowth and they were now ready to move-out with Cadwy,
Eirwen and the Gŵyr to be mounted and the Gadwyr and Ghost-Warriors left to run
alongside them. The slaughtered horses, the unconscious Witch and all her slain
men lay where they had fallen on the road, and the extempore blend of their equine
and human blood had run in a broad rivulet in the dust, gathering and
congealing here and there in the dips and hollows. The blood spilled had been
so great, it had followed the lie of the land and flowed downhill, to find the
lake which was ablaze with colour from the burning fortress at its heart. A big
cloudy fan of this mixed blood billowed into the black waters and although the
red stream from the road was finally abating, the mushroom of cloudy red which
sullied the fresh water, continued to billow outwards into the lake and was made
more horrifying by the blaze of the fire upon it. Many of these men’s gazes had
been drawn to this cloud of blood’s stark symbolism in this commonly
melancholic period which followed battle, and they had gathered for a moment to
stare at it.
“It will be a fine spot to catch a big Pike in
the morning!” Bleddyn interrupted their thoughtful study of the resulting
bloodshed from their recent actions. He imparted the advice deadpan and
expressionless, and the warriors around him fell about laughing. They slapped
their thighs and hooted with laughter, as the tension in them finally broke.
“I should have known!” Cadwy grinned, catching
Bleddyn’s twinkling eyes. His champion just grinned back and shrugged his big shoulders
in his inimitable way. “If you’ve quite finished larking about, do you think we
can go now?” Cadwy asked him tartly and with an arched eyebrow.
“Huh, I was just imparting a bit of my fishing
wisdom to the boys! Anyway, I’ve been waiting for you lot for bloody ages!”
Bleddyn grumbled and leapt astride an unfamiliar horse ignoring the laughter,
but his teeth grinned through the bushy beard.
Now as they looked back, the fortress had been
completely consumed and not a soul could be seen moving about the blackened
ruin or the suddenly deserted village alongside it. Parts of the crannog began
to collapse into the lake then with a loud hissing and as the burning timbers
sank untidily under the surface, they issued voluminous clouds of steam, to mix
and swirl with the dense smoke reaching up into the starlit heavens.
It signalled an end to this part of the
adventure and without another word spoken, they turned the stolen horses and
headed to the west, riding and running fast for the coast and for Ederus.
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