The Mountain of Marvels: A Celtic Tale of Magic (Ancient Fantasy Book 1) by Aaron Shepard

Author:Aaron Shepard [Shepard, Aaron]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Skyhook Press
Published: 2014-04-10T00:00:00+00:00

3

The Companion

Pryderi, Prince of Dyfed, grew in strength and skill, and many were the times he heard from Pwyll or Rhiannon or Manawydan the story of his parents’ meeting. And one day he said to them, “Show me where it happened.”

So the four of them climbed the Mount of Arberth. “Just here I sat,” said Pwyll, and he sat on it once more.

Then came a sound like thunder, and a thick mist descended all about. And when it lifted, they looked out on the land, and gone were all the people in the fields, all the herds, the homes, and every other sign of settlement but the court itself, and no man, woman, or child there either.

“Good God,” cried Pwyll. “What evil has struck our land?”

They hurried to the court and searched in dining hall, sleeping chambers, kitchen, and cellar. But nothing alive remained except their hounds and horses.

“By a single blow we are vanquished,” said Manawydan. “And we know not even the victor’s name.”

For weeks they lived off provisions of the feast. When those were gone, they hunted and fished and gathered wild honey. But nowhere in the kingdom did they see sign of human life.

One morning, as Pwyll and Manawydan rode on the hunt, the hounds rushed into a thicket and flushed out a wild white boar. Off ran the boar with the dogs at its heels, but before the animals were out of sight, the boar stopped and turned. It held the dogs at bay until the hunters drew near, then turned and ran again.

Several times this happened, until they came to a huge stone fortress where they knew no fortress had been before. And the boar ran through the open gate, with the dogs following. Then all barking stopped, and however long they waited, they heard nothing more.

“I must go after the dogs,” said Pwyll.

“My lord,” said Manawydan, “certain it is that whoever cast the spell on Dyfed is the one who placed this fortress here. You surely will be trapped inside, and I will be powerless to help you.”

“I cannot abandon my hounds,” said Pwyll.

Into the fortress he rode. But he saw no boar, or hounds, or any living thing, or a building of any kind. Nothing was there but a marble fountain, with a marble step around it, and next to the fountain a vessel of gold, hung from chains that reached to the sky.

When Pwyll beheld the clear water, there came upon him an unbearable thirst. He mounted the step and grasped the vessel, then dipped it in the fountain and drank deeply. Then he discovered that the vessel held his hands fast, and the step held his feet. And when he tried to call for help, he found that the water had stolen his voice.

Outside the fortress, Manawydan waited until hope was gone, then returned to the court.

“What has happened to my lord?” asked Rhiannon.

“I know not,” said Manawydan, and he told his tale.

“You are not as good a friend as the one you lost,” she said.

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