“What is he saying to you?” Gwydion asked, his voice even. He motioned for Amatheon to write.
Seek Hard Gash
At the Battles of Betrayal.
Y Dawnus, joined together,
Guarded by alder and aspen,
By hawthorn and hazel,
Shall walk the corridors of time
And piece together
The broken circle.
Then shall the Guardians go
Horse and hawk,
Wolf and swan,
To their appointed places.
Thus will Trees and Y Dawnus,
Guardians and the dead
Meet together
On winter’s first day.
Gwydion brought Rhiannon back slowly, having her ascend the tree trunk and taking her back to the plain. “Wake up,” he commanded.
She opened her eyes. “Well?” she asked. “Did I have it? The message?”
“You did indeed,” Gwydion answered and, nodding to Amatheon, he had his brother recite the poem.
“Hard Gash,” Trystan mused. “Caladfwlch.”
“Yes,” Gwydion said. “To be sought at the Battles of Betrayal.”
“Which are?” Cai asked.
“There are four,” Rhiannon said quietly. “The first is the Battle of Naid Ronwen, Ronwen’s Leap, where Queen Gwynledyr of Gwynedd killed her husband for his betrayal and where Ronwen, her husband’s mistress, jumped to her death, taking her little girl with her.”
“The second is the Battle of Galor Penduran, “Amatheon said, “Penduran’s Sorrow, where King Pryderi led an army against his father, High King Idris, and killed Llyr, the first Dreamer.”
“The third is the Battle of Duir Dan,” Rhiannon continued, “Druid’s Fire, where the twin brothers, King Caradoc of Ederynion and King Cadwallon of Rheged battled. They were finally stopped by their mother, who led an army of Druids to halt the battle.”
“The last is the Battle of Ynad Bran, Bran’s Justice, where he rightly condemned his mistress and son to death for their murder of King Llywelyn of Ederynion,” Amatheon said. He looked back at the others. “Rhiannon and I had a history teacher at Y Ty Dewin who was very big on battles. We had to memorize everything about them.”
“I see,” Trystan said with mock gravity.
“So we must journey to each of these places,” Angharad said. “Naid Ronwen in Gwynedd, Ynad Bran in Ederynion, Duir Dan in Rheged, and Galor Penduran in Prydyn.”
“These are the places I saw in my dream,” Gwydion murmured, and wondered how he could not have realized this sooner. For this was the dream he had had the night he had given Arthur over to Myrrdin’s care; the dream where, in raven’s shape, he had visited the sites of these battles, tasting the grief of those who had participated in the campaigns. He periodically still had that dream, but was never able to deduce its meaning. The others were looking at him, and he shrugged. “Just a dream that I now understand,” he said.
As one they stared down again at the poem that Amatheon had written out from Rhiannon’s memory.
“What of the part about the Y Dawnus?” Trystan asked. “It says that they are joined together, guarded by what must be we Captains. Who does the Y Dawnus refer to?”
“Again, it must refer to Rhiannon and myself,” Gwydion said in a tone that brooked no argument. But from this group, argument was to be expected.
“How can you be so sure?” Angharad asked. “Suppose you two are not the proper Y Dawnus?”
“We must be,” Gwydion insisted. “For we are the two that have been brought together from Bran’s messages to me.”
“It does not say that here are only two,” Rhiannon said.
Gwydion ignored her and braced himself for Amatheon to put in a word but his brother still remained curiously silent, merely frowning down at the poem.
“What does it mean to walk the corridors of time?” Trystan asked. “Isn’t that something only the Dreamer can do?”
“Normally, yes,” Gwydion admitted. “But somehow, in this case, I will only be able to do that with the help of another Y Dawnus—and the Captains.”
“How do you know it is you who will walk in the past?” Rhiannon put in. “It might be me.”
“It is a Dreamer’s gift,” Gwydion said tightly. “Nobody else could possibly do it.”
“I might just surprise you.”
You already have, Gwydion thought. “The broken circle, now. I have no idea what that is.”
“A message of some kind, I expect,” Trystan said. “But what kind I do not know.”
“I see we haven’t much time,” Rhiannon said. “It says here we must confront these Guardians on Calan Gaef, the first day of winter. That’s only five weeks away.”