Peter stood stock still. Although the weather was hot, Peter felt a cold chill creeping over him. He wanted to run away but remained where he was, as if commanded to do so. The feeling of dread and terror in the pit of his stomach made him nearly physically sick.
A long dark shadow crept from the bushes, like a hand reaching out for him. Peter’s head swam and the whole world began to revolve.
“Hey! Hey! What goes on here?”
Anir’s voice rang out – like the beam from a lighthouse in sea mist, Anir broke through the darkness that now surrounded Peter and the far end of the garden. Anir leapt behind the bushes and laid about him with his dagger. The darkness disappeared and Peter fell to the ground in a faint. Sarah ran across the lawn.
“Peter, Peter!” she cried, then knelt beside him and shook him by the shoulders in an effort to rouse him. “Wake up Peter, what’s wrong? Oh do wake up!”
Anir returned from the copse looking pale.
“Is he all right?” he asked.
“Oh Anir, what happened? What is wrong with my brother?”
“I am not sure,” replied Anir, “but it is likely to be some evil spell of the witch Orddu. I have given her something to think about just now with my dagger and my sword, Carnwennan. It once belonged to King Arthur and there is some magic for good in it still.”
Sarah began to cry.
“I bet this is something to do with that stupid stone of Peter’s, or the Elves, or whoever it belongs to!”
“A good guess!” said Anir. “Where is the stone now?”
“Under his pillow.”
“Go and fetch it then, now, hurry!”
Sarah sped away as if the witch were after her and soon returned with a cloth bag in which was –
“The Stone!” whispered Anir.
Peter stirred but his eyes remained closed.
“What do we do now?” asked Sarah.
“I will try something,” Anir replied, taking the stone from Sarah.
After a silence of several minutes, he held the magic stone a few inches above Peter’s forehead and began to mutter strange words. As he did so, after a while, Anir began to sway rhythmically from side to side. Sarah looked at Peter. Nothing seemed to be happening.
Anir began to sing softly under his breath and as Sarah watched there came a faint glow of light from around the hole at the top of the stone. Suddenly, Peter gave a very deep sigh and smiled in his sleep. Anir put the stone back inside the cloth bag and placed it in his tunic pocket.
“I think your brother may improve shortly,” he said, with not a little relief in his voice.
“But he is still asleep!” said Sarah.
“Yes,” said Anir, “but I have removed the evil of Orddu out of it. To awaken him we shall have to take him to Gwyn. Let you and I carry him back to the house and then we can take counsel in hiding, while we may. We cannot remain here too long, else Orddu and her creatures will be back for us.”
Anir put his strong arms under Peter’s shoulders and Sarah picked up his feet. Together they walked down the garden path and into the kitchen. Sarah motioned with her head for Anir to come into the sitting room, where they placed Peter gently on the sofa cushions.
Anir drew all the curtains and began to pace up and down the room. He looked strange and out of place in Aunt Myf’s pristine, modern sitting room with his mud spattered clothes and battered boots.
“We must go to Gwyn at once,” Anir said, half to himself, “but how?”
“Couldn’t we wait until dark?” said Sarah, “then nobody would see us.”
“Oh, but Orddu and her kind certainly would. Their power is greatest in the dead of night.”
“I see,” said Sarah, wanly.
She was just going to ask if Anir had any idea what they were going to do, when a noise distracted her. It was the sound of a car drawing into the drive, Aunt Myf’s car.
“Oh no!” cried Sarah, “it’s our Aunt. What will she say about Peter?”
She looked at Anir and half expected him to gallop out of the house and hide among the bushes in the garden. Anir showed no sign of leaving. Sarah looked around helplessly. Surely Anir did not belong in Aunt Myf’s world, nor she in his.
Sarah heard the click of the front door as it opened and Aunt Myf came in, laden with shopping. She grunted as she put down the heavy bags. Sarah ran out to greet her.
“There you are, Sarah. Help me with these bags, there’s a good girl. I forgot to take my Building Society book with me. I’ll have to go another day. What a nuisance! I’m so forgetful these days. I don’t know why, I think it’s because I have too many things to think of at once, especially with you and Peter here. Now where is that boy? He can just come here and give us a hand.”
Aunt Myf paused as she and Sarah got the bags set down on the kitchen table. Sarah was desperately wondering how to explain what had happened to Peter when Anir peered round the kitchen door and then came in. Aunt Myf did not look at all surprised. It was Sarah who was surprised when all Aunt Myf said was:
“Oh, it’s you. What’s up?”
Anir shook Aunt Myf by the hand and sat on the kitchen chair. “It’s your nephew, Peter. I have reason to believe that Orddu has put a black spell on him because of something he found. An ancient treasure which belongs to the Samildanach.”
“Oh really,” said Aunt Myf, putting on the kettle, “and what is that then?”
“The Stone of Gardar,” Anir said, drawing the stone from its bag in his pocket. Peter is sleeping now, but we must take him to Gwyn-ap-Nudd as quickly as we can.”
The stone glowed faintly in Anir’s hands. He placed it swiftly back in the bag and replaced both into the tunic pocket again.
“And where is Peter?” asked Aunt Myf.
“Oh Aunt Myf, he’s on the sofa. He won’t wake up at all. What are we going to do?” wailed Sarah.
Aunt Myf strode into the sitting room and went to kneel beside Peter, who was still smiling in his sleep but showed no sign of waking up.
“Oh what a nuisance you are.”
Aunt Myf stroked his cheek gently.
“Well, well! Anir, Anir, come here.”
Anir came and stood in the doorway.
“Anir, look – if you must take him to Gwyn-ap-Nudd for a cure, I can drive you and Peter as near to Arx Emain as I can. Maybe the Haverfordwest side would be safest.”
“Aye, Lady, that would be wise but what shall you and the girl do? Orddu has been drawn here by the Stone or sent here by Arddu. It makes no difference, she knows that the Stone has been here and may return to seek for it again.”
Sarah stared at the two of them. It was dawning on her that Aunt Myf must be one of those very rare grown-ups who can inhabit two worlds at once and is at ease in both the ‘real’ world and the ‘other’ world. At any rate, she appeared to know Anir quite well, and showed no signs of panic or astonishment at the present turn of events.
The kettle began to whistle and Aunt Myf sprang into the kitchen. She made a pot of tea and directed Anir to the hall cupboard to fetch the heavy travelling rug in which to wrap Peter.
“In case he’s suffering from shock,” she explained.
When Anir reappeared, he asked her again:
“What will you do, Myfanwy?”
Aunt Myf put the tea things and a plate of Belgian buns on a tray and marched into the sitting room again. They ate and drank, sitting in a semicircle round Peter.
“There’s only one answer to that!” said Aunt Myf, “My family is the most precious thing to me in the whole world. I don’t have one of my own, yet, but I may some day. Meanwhile, my sister’s children have brought joy into my life and I would not desert Peter for a second. So, if he goes to Arx Emain, so do I and so does Sarah.”
“But Gwyn-ap-Nudd has never met you!”
“Yes, but you know me, Anir. I have played among the stones up on the Old Places since you and I were both children. And if the Family of Beauty don’t like it, they will have to lump it! If they want their Stone back they will have to put up with the consequences. After all, if you can pass in and out of Arx Emain, then so can I.”
“Yes, Myfanwy, but for me it was decreed. It has been the duty and the joy of all my forebears to be The Guardian. You were not chosen.”
But Aunt Myf was not to be moved.
“I go!” she said, then, “How are you, lovely?” to Sarah.
“Oh, I’m all right, I suppose. Can we go now? I DO want Peter to wake up.”
“Very well, little maid,” said Anir, patting her shoulder.
Aunt Myf gave her a hug. Then all was action! Sarah and Aunt Myf put the shopping away: having asked Anir if food was required for the journey. He said ‘no’ as the Elves would feed them, if necessary, at Arx Emain.
Peter, wrapped in the travel rug, was carried out to the car and laid across the back seats. Sarah was to sit in the front seat with Aunt Myf and Anir said that he would curl up on the floor behind the front seats. Even with a cushion or two he did not look at all comfortable, but said he was used to rough circumstances.
When the passengers were all settled, Aunt Myf locked the house and got into the car herself. It was now getting on towards midday. The car started; she drove as fast as she dared towards Fishguard and from there towards Haverfordwest.
“I’m going the long way round,” she said, “I don’t fancy going near the Old Places today, so we’ll give the Gwaun Valley a miss.”
Sarah stared at the road ahead. She was petrified. Would they be tracked? She clenched her fists over the strap of Aunt Myf’s handbag, which she had on her knee. Her knuckles were white and so was her face.
Anir did not move the whole of the journey. Eventually, Aunt Myf found a large lay by that she considered safe for her car. She and Sarah got out. Then, with Anir’s help, managed to get Peter out. The car was locked. Anir hid behind the car with Peter in his arms, while Aunt Myf and Sarah watched the traffic pass, looking for a gap when they could cross the main road in safety. Of course it was very busy as it was a main road and the traffic was heavier than usual with many summer tourists. After what seemed like an age to Sarah, Aunt Myf gave a sign to Anir and they half ran across the road and dived into some bushes.
“I lead from here,” said Anir, and strode away into the undergrowth, which was very unpleasant with brambles and nettles and large gorse bushes.
“Ow! Ow!” cried Sarah, “Not so fast. I’m getting prickled to death.”
“Better than being prickled with a knife from one of Orddu’s creatures,” said Anir, curtly.
He held Peter in a kind of Fireman’s lift and was obviously very strong as carrying her brother did not appear to Sarah to impede his progress one wit. On the other hand, Aunt Myf was having her difficulties. She had on a pair of sandals, which were even worse at letting in prickles and nettles than the plimsolls that Sarah was wearing. Soon she was lagging behind.
“Come on, Myfanwy,” urged Anir, “through that copse and up to that hill to the left of the woods. We shall soon reach Arx Emain and then we can all have a rest.”
“Come on Aunt Myf!” called Sarah, and she ran back to take her Aunt Myf by the hand and pull her along.
They were all very hot. It was just after midday; the sun was overhead and even Anir began to pant a little as they climbed towards Arx Emain.
Sarah looked back towards where they had left the car. The bright sunshine gleamed on the chrome bumper. She looked up to the cliff under which the car lay. A mist seemed to lie on the bushes at the edge of the overhang.
“Look!” she cried. There’s fog on that hill. Anir turned his head sharply. “What in the world—!”
“It’s creeping down to the car!” exclaimed Aunt Myf.
For a moment they all stood transfixed with horror, as the mist slid down the cliff face and into the lay by.
“Come on!” Anir called them back out of their stupor.
Sarah began a sprint that took her to the edge of the trees that formed the copses and spinnies around Arx Emain. Anir and Aunt Myf followed close behind. Anir was grunting because he was beginning to feel the weight of carrying Peter. A bramble made Sarah pull up.
“Ow! It’s got my leg.”
“Come here; let me see,” panted Aunt Myf, who was beginning to wish that she had walked more and used the car less in recent times.
Sarah was extracted, painfully, from the bramble. Anir placed Peter down on the forest floor while Aunt Myf operated. Anir looked about. The forest was very peaceful and sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on Peter’s still sleeping body.
“I’m sure he looks greener,” said Aunt Myf, “or is it the light off the trees?”
“This is a good place for a bad happening,” said Anir, who stood listening to the forest sounds. All at once—
“Down both of you!” he dropped to the ground.
Aunt Myf and Sarah followed suit.
“What…?” began Aunt Myf, but Anir shot her a look that made her stop asking any more questions.
Soon they could all hear ‘swish, swish’. Footsteps, something approaching through the undergrowth and suddenly there was—
“Tad!” cried Sarah, as Ederyn’s horse stumbled through some thick brambles towards them.
“Ederyn!” cried Anir, “And just in time too. We are being followed.”
Ederyn jumped down from his horse. He needed no instructions for straightaway he picked Peter up, set him upon Tad, mounted behind and spurred the horse into as fast a trot as it could manage under the circumstances.
“Come,” said Anir, “Peter is safe now and we shall be shortly.”
“Why,” asked Sarah, “Arx Emain must be miles away yet.”
“So it is,” Anir replied, “but I think we shall have assistance in getting there safely. See, here is Eldol to meet us.”
“Ho there, Anir! You come sooner than expected.”
And out came Eldol from behind a large beech tree.
“But not soon enough brother.”
“Trouble again? I’ll take the little maid. Here come hup! Eldol will let you ride pig-a-back for a while.”
Sarah did as she was told. Aunt Myf took Anir’s arm and off they went through the forest as fast as they could to Arx Emain.
The afternoon was wearing on as they stumbled out of the final clearing and could see Arx Emain and the holly trees that marked out where it was. As they approached, Eldol, who had been carrying Sarah again, placed her gently on the ground and hurried forward to the gate.
Before long, Sarah saw the gate open a crack under Eldol’s hand. Then it swung fully open. Sarah hurried forward. Aunt Myf and Anir ran to catch up and came in close on her heels. Eldol waited for them all to pass into Arx Emain and then shut the gate behind them. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief.
“I could do with a nice cup of tea right now!” said Aunt Myf.
“I don’t think these people drink tea…”
Sarah’s voice trailed off into silence as Anir passed by with Peter in his arms. What could Gwyn do? Would there be a cure for the dark sleep that he was in?
She followed him with Aunt Myf behind, her footsteps slapping coldly on the stone floor. Every now and again a torch or lamp lit up the stone walls of the palace that was inside Arx Emain.
Strange inscriptions and marvelous designs were upon every wall and ran down the ceilings also. Sarah wondered at them as she passed, but was presently too preoccupied with her thoughts of Peter to take it all in.
Anir went down a passage to the left, to a room where there were several beds. He placed Peter on one of them. Immediately an Elf maiden appeared with a silver bowl filled with water.
“I am Morvith,” she said, “Gwyn sent for me that I may care for your brother.”
“I can care for Peter very well myself!” Aunt Myf said forcefully.
The Elf maid looked surprised.
“But!” she said.
“I’ll take that bowl.”
Aunt Myf made a grab for the silver dish, took it to where Peter was lying and began dabbing at his forehead with the cloth that was soaking in the water. Morvith disappeared into the corridor.
“I wonder if she’s upset?” thought Sarah.
After about a quarter of an hour, Anir returned to them. Sarah was sitting on the floor beside Peter’s bed. Aunt Myf sat on the bed. She had put the bowl of water on the floor and was now holding Peter’s hand, deep in thought.
“Come, come! This will not do at all,” said Anir, “food and drink await you. Gwyn-ap-Nudd will come soon and we will do our best to awake Peter from this spell.”
Morvith appeared at the door again.
“Morvith will wait here with Peter. He is quite safe now. Have no fear for him and do come and eat.”
Wearily, Sarah and Aunt Myf obeyed. Anir led them to what Sarah supposed must be the main hall of the palace. High arches, which glittered with thousands of precious stones, formed a huge dome.
Underneath was a dais with a throne for Gwyn; there were also tables where lay the evidence of a recently eaten meal. The odd silver dish and cup were being cleared away. This was indeed The Great Hall of Arx Emain.
During her sojourn with the Elves, Sarah noticed that the metal most favoured by the Elves for every-day items was silver, but for special things and places there was always a liberal and impressive spreading of gold.
To one side of the Hall, there was a table fresh laid, with food and drink ready. Anir and Aunt Myf sat down straight away. Sarah paused, she thought she did not feel very hungry.
“Come on Sarah,” said Aunt Myf, “the soup is delicious and the bread is better than I make myself.”
As her Aunt tucked in with gusto, Sarah sat down and joined the feast. She discovered that after fright and flight she actually felt very hungry indeed. Whether it was lunch or tea or ‘TEANCHEON’ Sarah was not quite sure but the meal filled every expectation.
There was vegetable soup with crusty bread and butter; followed by meat pasties with gravy and potatoes. There were fruits and some kind of heavy fruit bread, or was it cake? It was rather like the Bara Brith that Aunt Myf made for a tea time treat. The whole was washed down with water or a light fruity wine. Sarah, it must be admitted, had some of each!
When they had eaten their fill, some of the Elves came to clear away. Anir got up and said that Aunt Myf and Sarah had better rest while they could, he had business with Gwyn.
Sarah and Aunt Myf he led to a room close to where Peter lay. There were settles filled with cushions and heavy wooden beds filled with feather mattresses and quilts. Nightlights glowed in small niches carved into the walls. Sarah watched Aunt Myf kick her shoes off and collapse onto one of the beds.
“Get some sleep child,” she whispered, and was soon snoring.
Sarah soon followed suit.
It was many hours later that Sarah awoke. They had arrived in the late afternoon. For the first time Sarah looked at her watch; it was half past eleven. She still felt very tired and for a while lay back in the feathers, half-asleep.
A little while later, it must have been around midnight, she heard a commotion in the next room. Aunt Myf was missing from her bed. Sarah jumped out of bed, slipped on her shoes and went towards the noise. It was Peter!
The Lord Gwyn was bending over him, muttering strange words, a light was in his hand. Aunt Myf was holding Peter’s hands and looking worried. Anir stood in the shadows by the door and the Lady Aneryn had come and was holding the Miraculous Stone above Peter’s head. It glowed with a strange and eerie light.
Sarah stopped dead in her tracks as a fierce beam of light sprang from the opening in the stone. Just for a second, it seemed as if the aperture widened to form a kind of portal, a gateway behind Peter and the bed. The sight was truly astonishing!
Peter screamed; the archway and the light disappeared. Gwyn-ap-Nudd sat down on a stool by the bed. The whole scene became calm. Sarah came into the room. Peter’s eyes were flickering.
“He will wake soon, now,” said Gwyn, who then rose and bowed to Aunt Myf then left them.
Anir and Aneryn followed him.
“He is waking up,” Aunt Myf smiled as Peter’s eyes opened.
He stared at his Aunt, then at Sarah.
“Where on earth?” he seemed to be taking in his new surroundings.
“You are quite safe now, dear,” said Aunt Myf, “you had a nasty shock.”
“Oh, no! The witch! I remember. She was muttering something horrible. I must have blacked out.”
“So you did,” Sarah said, patting his hand, “and caused us a deal of trouble, but you look better now you are awake.”
“How long was I blacked out?” Peter frowned; he was puzzled.
“Oh; only most of yesterday,” said Sarah.
“You’ll have to tell me later. My head feels fuzzy somehow. I think I could eat something, though.”
“That’s our Peter,” laughed Aunt Myf. “I’ll go and see if there is anything.”
She kissed Peter on the forehead and disappeared down the corridor. Peter sat up and held his head.
“What a headache! This must be what a hangover feels like.”
“Well,” said Sarah, “it’s all to do with that odd stone. You would pick it up wouldn’t you! It belongs to the Elves, you know. The Enemy wants it and that witch is a friend of his.”
“Don’t remind me,” said Peter, and sank back on the pillows. Aunt Myf reappeared with a bowl of hot broth and some bread.
“This is all I could find this hour of the night,” she said.
Peter sat up again and Sarah plumped his pillows. He ate the bread and soup greedily. It was, if they had known it, nearly dawn.
“I’m still tired,” said Sarah. “I’m going back to sleep. Take care, brother mine, See you later.”
She kissed his hand and went back to bed. It did not take her long to return to sleep, but before she did, she found herself thinking of what a great nuisance this adventure had been.
“If we’re not careful, this holiday will be completely taken up with the wretched thing. I want to get back to the beach. Elves and stones…”
Her thoughts then passed into dreams. The next thing Sarah knew was someone shaking her by the arm.
“Wake up, wake up Sarah.”
It was Peter.
“Peter,” she cried, and jumped out of bed and hugged him.
“Steady on, Sis. It’s nearly lunchtime. You had better not miss it. You’ve already missed breakfast.”
“Why? Whatever is the time?”
“I just told you,” said Peter, “nearly time for lunch; and I tell you, I’m starving.”
“Again? Oh well,” Sarah sighed, “I suppose you have to make up for all the meals you missed yesterday.”
“I know, Aunt Myf has filled me in with everything that happened. But: I have some news for you.”
Sarah began to dress.
“Well, what is your news? Aren’t you going to tell?”
“Well,” said Peter, slowly, “I think I’d rather show you.”
And a few minutes later, they were going down one of the many stone corridors in the Halls of Gwyn-ap-Nudd. At length Peter turned sharp right, down a tunnel that Sarah had not yet discovered.
At the end of it the passageway opened out to reveal two huge doors that were very richly carved. Peter gave them a gentle push and they gave way before him, softly and silently. Sarah gasped. The huge room was quite empty and was lit only by two lamps hanging from the ceiling.
“It’s just like the dream you had, isn’t it,” she whispered.
And so it was. Down the room forming an arch were two rows of stone pillars, richly carved with all kinds of trees and plants. At the furthest end was a niche behind a most splendid chair, which they assumed must be one of the thrones of Gwyn-ap-Nudd.
Everywhere there was the glint of gold, Welsh gold. In particular, the throne itself was very ornate, as was the niche, which glowed with a pale green light, the source of which appeared to be—
“Our stone!” Sarah said softly.
Peter looked at Sarah.
“This makes me feel, somehow, as if we were meant to come here.”
He climbed the stairs of the dais, upon which the golden throne of Gwyn rested. Then, going up to the niche, he stared at the magic stone. Sarah followed. The stone looked quite normal, except for the greenish glow coming from it.
Both children stared at the stone for quite a little while, then turned and went to sit on the steps of the dais, where they gazed around at the wonders of the golden room. At last Peter touched Sarah’s arm gently and broke her reverie.
“Come on,” he said, “lunch.”
And silently they tiptoed out of the room and shut the great doors behind them.