When Peter awoke, he saw stars above him. He stared at them for a while in silent joy. It was the first time that he had been outside Arx Emain for what seemed an age, though in all was probably only a few weeks, certainly less than a month. Somehow, time seemed to run differently in the underground kingdom.
“I’m free,” he thought, “free at last!”
But then the Stone under his cloak dug him in the elbow.
“OK, OK, not quite free yet,” he muttered.
“Awake at last, young master?”
It was Ederyn’s voice. Peter turned and saw Ederyn and Anir both bending over him.
“You have slept well. Your sister sleeps yet!” said Anir, “Arise and eat with us, for we must move again soon.”
“Are we safe?” said Peter, looking round as if he expected Arddu himself to appear from behind a tree.
“We are safe enough for the present,” said Ederyn “we have come secretly, many miles away from Arx Emain and the Prescelly Mountains.”
“When do we meet up with Gwyn?”
“Very soon. Come, wake your sister and come with us. There is to be a meeting to consider the next move.”
Ederyn rose and left Anir to help Peter waken Sarah.
“Ugh!” she spluttered, as Peter shook her awake, “Why did I say I’d come?”
“Because you love your brother!” said Peter, “Come on Sis, this could be the last lap, and then perhaps we’ll be free to go home.”
“I’m coming. I must say though, just at this moment, an hours maths homework would be a welcome change from all this.”
“I’d hardly put it that strongly,” said Peter, “but I know what you mean.”
“Come, Peter, Sarah, let us go and see what Ederyn is planning,” said Anir, gently.
“Hey!” said Sarah, “Peter, have you asked Anir, you know – what day it is?”
“You want to know the date?” broke in Anir, “Why it is Sunday, August the twenty ninth.”
“Oh, my goodness!” Sarah jumped up, “Peter, when do we go back to school?”
“September thirteenth; keep your hair on! We’ve two whole weeks to get this mess sorted out.”
“You make it sound like knitting,” pouted Sarah.
Peter patted her arm.
“I only mean that we might just get time to help sort this adventure out and get out of it before school time, if we’re lucky.”
“I have every confidence that we shall succeed in our endevours!” joined in Anir, “This way!”
They passed through some very tall trees and came down into a hollow. Many Elves were standing round the hollow creating a ring, like a living fortress wall. They parted to let Anir and the children pass.
“I think I can hear the sea,” said Sarah, surprised.
She pulled at Anir’s cloak.
”Where are we? Are we near the sea?”
“We are quite near to St. David’s,” replied Anir, “we have come through one of the Elves’ ancient escape routs. St. David’s is a place that is sacred to you and to those who follow older ways. It is a holy place and so we are safe here for a little while. Elves have often come here in times of trouble. It is from near here that they can sail to their kinsfolk over the seas, to Ireland and beyond.”
The three stepped slowly down a narrow path into the hollow. In the centre of the dip was a fire. In the firelight Peter and Sarah could see Ederyn seated at the far side of the ring.
Anir passed by the fire and went to sit beside him. He signed to Peter and Sarah to sit at his feet. Most of the Elves who had been standing guard around the hollow now came within the fire’s light and sat down in perfect silence. It struck Peter that they were commanded to do so.
“Of course,” he thought, “they can communicate by thought alone.”
Ederyn raised both his arms:
“Tomorrow, fellow friends and loyal subjects of Gwyn-ap-Nudd; tomorrow we shall rejoin our King and the armies from the Isles Overseas. Welcome, again, to our friends from the North Kingdom, and our deepest thanks. Dear friends, tomorrow marks the beginning of what we all hope to be a final defeat for Arddu, The Evil One, and the end of all his kind.”
A low roar of approval came from the gathering, and the occasional clank of sword on shield could be heard. Ederyn raised his arms once more to speak, but before he could continue his speech, an Elf came into the ring; half running, half staggering, down the path towards them. He managed to bow to Ederyn, then went down on one knee.
“Lord Ederyn, your brother the Lord Gwyn-ap-Nudd has sent me.”
“What news, brother Elf?”
“Many farmers are gathering before the Crymych arms. Gwyn thinks that many hundreds of the country folk will gather there. They are angry at the Great Beast because it is killing their animals, and they have determined upon hunting it down. They are armed.”
“Very good, very good indeed!” Ederyn smiled, “And what would my King, what is his command?”
“That you make all haste to the meeting place that was agreed.”
“Very well, then, and where do Gwyn and his armies lie now, exactly?”
“Not far from Ceredigiawn, My Lord.”
“Good, good!”
Ederyn turned to face the assembled legions and cried out:
“We ride, we ride! To arms Elven Folk!”
All assembled rose and dashed spear or sword on shield, or raised their bows and arrows towards the stars, for there were many skilled in archery there.
“But!” Ederyn cried out again, even louder than before so that everyone was immediately hushed, “First we are forced to take ship and sail.”
Peter and Sarah looked about them. No one seemed particularly surprised. Anir sat with his head in his hands, looking resigned.
“First Maniple, I command you to depart and make ready the ships,” Ederyn said, and immediately, about a hundred Elves left by the narrow path as silently as the wind passes through the short grasses on the hilltops.
Sarah tugged at Anir’s cloak:
“Why are we sailing?” she asked.
“Why did we come out here through the secret tunnel?” asked Anir, half to himself, “Arddu, who by the way is the Great Beast the Messenger spoke of, has blocked the front entrance to Arx Emain. Just as you saw in your dream, Peter, there are what appear to be giant stones moving ever closer to Gwyn-ap-Nudd’s front door! They are Arddu’s creatures – shape-shifters.”
Peter was suddenly very glad that they had not had to brave going out that way.
“Arddu supposes that all the Elves are blocked up inside Arx Emain. He does not know about the tunnel.”
“Why is that?” asked Peter.
“Because the last time that the Elves were in conflict with the Evil One, they did not have the tunnel and had to fight their way out. That time Arddu had a friend who turned himself into a great boar with tusks like battering rams and bristles as sharp as razors. Gwyn-ap-Nudd had been assisting King Arthur in the hunting of him. They went from Porth Cleis to the Severn River; and great tribulation there was in the chase. This time they are ready for Arddu.”
As Anir spoke, Ederyn was giving orders for a speedy departure. The Elves were leaving the clearing in companies of about a hundred each.
When the Twenty-fifth Maniple was announced, Anir told Peter and Sarah to follow him. Ederyn sprang to his horse and led the way to the beach. Anir, Peter and Sarah were to the rear and with them, also rode the messenger of Gwyn-ap-Nudd, whose name was Eri.
They found themselves on the beach. Great rafts were being paddled to and fro with Elves, horses and supplies. They were making for great grey ships that were moored some way distant from the shore. To the East Peter noticed that the sky lightened slightly. Dawn must be approaching.
“Goodness!” said Sarah, “Everything looks very well organised.”
“And so it is,” said Anir, “they have had all this planned for many hundreds of years. Gwyn may have been caught out once, but he will never be trapped again.”
“Shall he win this time too?” said Peter, giving voice to the fears that he and Sarah had spoken of only in secret.
“Why, of course. Do not fear!” Anir answered gently, “Do we not possess the Stone of Gardar?”
Peter had forgotten about it momentarily, in all the excitement. He patted the bag that contained it and wished that he could look at it again. Before he was able to bring it out, however, they were pushed and pulled onto a raft, from where at length they came to a great sailing ship with a ramp up to the hold.
Up the ramp went Elves, horses, Anir Peter and Sarah until all were aboard the ship. This was the last ship to sail. From the deck, Peter and Sarah watched the land slip away and wondered what might happen next.
The sun reddened the sky in the East, out to sea. The land lay grey in the chilly dawn and a light breeze filled the huge sail of the Elven ship. Everything seemed to be grey. At the prow they came upon Ederyn and Anir, who were deep in thought, or conversation.
Elves have the gift of conversing by thought alone, and the children wondered if Anir had learnt the knack of it by being with them so much. Their guesses seemed to be confirmed as Anir turned towards them as they passed.
“We have just decided that we shall take today as a rest day. Be sure to take your ease on board this ship, while you can. We shall keep out to sea in the mist. Few will notice us sailing up the coast, not even the Fishguard Ferry to Ireland will see us! Tonight at the latest we shall all be moored off Ceredigiawn Island, and tomorrow…”
“Tomorrow, we join Gwyn-ap-Nudd and defeat Arddu!” joined Ederyn, “And,” he looked at Peter suddenly, “it is round about twenty of your miles to our mooring point. If the breeze could waken a little, we should be there the sooner. In the meantime, breakfast is waiting.”
He waved his hand towards the after deck where a cold buffet was being laid out. Peter hurried over to get their share. The travelling and the early hour made them ravenously hungry.
“He knew what I was thinking,” said Peter, chewing on a meat filled roll.
“Well, he’s almost an Elf himself, I suppose. More like them than us. A ‘ betwixt and between’,” said Sarah, adding, “I don’t like this calm, though, it’s the lull before the storm. If only…” she began, and Peter joined in.
“Mother and Father had not gone to the Summer School all summer.”
Sarah giggled, “You’re doing it now, Peter. You thought my thought!”
“Pure coincidence, and anyway, we’re very close. Families often do that.”
“Yes, I suppose so. Well, at least Ant Myf is safely tucked up in bed.”
“Oh, I do hope so!” said Peter, rather more vehemently than usual, “I really, really do!”
Anir was right about the invisibility of the Elvish fleet. The Fishguard Ferries plied their trade regularly all that day and never saw them. Though to be fair, there was a great deal of heat haze, as the weather was beginning to turn thundery, as it often does at the end of a long hot summer.
The sea was calm and the winds were not helpful. The ships had to ‘ tack’ up the coast before they came anywhere near Fishguard, and crossing Newport Bay the wind dropped to a whisper so that they almost had to row. It was twilight when the ships began to moor off Cardigan Island. The air was by this time, hot, still and very heavy.
“I’m sure it’s going to thunder soon,” said Sarah anxiously.
Peter leant over the bow.
“I wonder if we will be close to the fighting?” he said to himself, in a very depressed tone of voice.
The feeling of foreboding that had sat in the pit of his stomach all day was growing stronger every minute. The heaviness of the weather and the proximity of electrical storms made the feeling much worse. The sun set in a sickly hue, colouring the western sea with the pinks and greens, yellows and greys of imminent bad weather. In the distance the odd rumble of thunder could be heard.
Peter and Sarah could not imagine what a battle might be like, never mind one that might coincide with a thunderstorm. They all spent a most restless night. Peter paced up and down the deck with the Stone in his hand.
When Anir or Ederyn were not around, nor any of the Elves he took it out of its bag and ran his fingers over its strange surface. Whether it was the approaching storms, or whether it was that they were drawing nearer to Arddu, he did not know, but as the night wore on he was sure that he felt the Stone vibrate. In the darkness he could also see its faint glow growing stronger.
Sarah watched him until she could bear it no longer and in the early hours dragged him down into the hold, where there were soft mattresses laid down for them, and told him firmly to go to sleep.
“I know it’s all awful,” she said, “I’m feeling just as hot and sticky as you are, but I’m going to sleep if I can, and you’ve got to try too.”
Peter lay down and Sarah threw herself down next to him and slept a deep dreamless sleep. Peter tossed and turned until he finally managed to sleep a little. It was a deep sleep, to begin with, but later he did dream. It was like a Cartoon Film.
He saw a beautiful maiden coming towards him. She was either covered with, or dressed in the most beautiful flowers. Every flower that he had ever seen, from the dog rose to the most exotic lilies, seemed to be part of her costume. She came nearer and nearer to him, saying nothing, her feet passing over what looked like water. Was it the sea or a lake? That she was walking on water did not appear at all remarkable, but then, it was a dream.
Nearer and nearer she came, and just as Peter saw her face move, as if she were going to speak, the face changed into that of Aunt Myf, a sad, pale face, streaked with some kind of slime.
“I am Bloddwedd’s….” said the vision, and then promptly faded into darkness.
“Oh, my goodness!” Peter sat up panting,
“What is it? What is it?”
He had woken Sarah.
“I don’t think Aunt Myf is safe any more. I had a dream, I saw it all.”
“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it from here, so just calm down, will you. You’ve got to do your Super Hero, Action Chap thing today, or whatever.”
“Oh DO shut up, Sarah!” said Peter, irritably, “I want to think.”
“Humph!” said Sarah, “Get you!” and she swept off to find something to eat with all the indignation that she could muster!
The storm had not broken as yet and you could cut the atmosphere with a knife.
The Elves were gathered on the upper deck. Most of them had eaten and those who had were making ready to disembark. Ederyn had given out his orders and no one seemed to be taking any notice of the children.
Sarah grabbed what was left of the food and filled every spare nook and cranny of their luggage with bread and fruit. Then she took a decent portion for herself and Peter as breakfast. When she returned below decks, Peter was still sitting gloomily, all of a heap.
Sarah almost threw his breakfast at him. Like an automaton, Peter picked it up and ate. Sarah watched him. Feeling a little more sympathetic by degrees, she patted his shoulder.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “I don’t expect they’ll let us anywhere near the fighting.
“THEY won’t!” said a voice behind them.
Anir had come to look for them to bid them get ready for going ashore. Sarah let out a large sigh of relief.
“You won’t come near the thick of it, not if I can help it,” said Anir.
Peter brightened visibly. He jumped up and, slinging his bag over his shoulder, followed Anir to the upper deck. Trotting behind them came Sarah, and soon they were going down the ramp to yet another raft, where Ederyn and some other Elves were waiting.
“Be quick. We must be at the place of the White Church by midday if possible,” Ederyn grumbled.
He turned to Peter and Sarah and spoke low:
“You must stay by me as much as you can until we meet Gwyn again. Then, during the punishment and retribution that is to be meted out to Arddu, Orddu and all their minions, you must stay by Gwyn. You must not move from his side, or all may be lost. Anir has his special orders and will guard you all he can. If the worst should come to the worst, I have brought a short sword for you Peter and a dagger for you, Sarah.”
“But Anir said we should not get near the fighting,” said Sarah, perplexed.
“I said: if the worst should come to the worst. Use them only in greatest need,” repeated Ederyn.
Then he turned away to speak again with Anir.
Sarah looked at the dagger with disgust.
“I suppose one might use it as a large paper knife or as a kebab at a barbecue,” she muttered, “I hope they don’t really expect me to use this.”
Peter felt awed as he looked at the short sword. It was magnificently worked and had some kind of inscription in gold on the blade. The hilt shone with gold and precious jewels.
“Fit for a prince!” he thought.
The raft began to jump up and down in the surf at the beach. Everyone got off the raft and walked to the sands in the shallow waves. They passed silently up the beach. Although Peter and Sarah had just eaten their breakfast, it was in fact midday and should have been luncheon.
Amazingly, the passage of the Elves up the beach was seen, or it should be said noticed, by nobody. Most tourists were at their own lunch and the arrival of the last army out of Arx Emain coincided with a heavy thundershower.
Only one elderly lady wondered why there were so many horses on the sands today, as she looked out between the raindrops from the window of her B&B. But then, she was on the look out for strange happenings.
Ederyn gathered his troops together. Orders were passed down the lines and they set off on the final journey to meet Gwyn-ap-Nudd and the Kindred from Overseas. It rained. Thunder rain like descending stair rods accompanied the army all that afternoon.
They skirted round Cardigan, or Ceredigiawn as the Elves called it, vaguely following the river until they were almost at Cilgerran Castle. Then Ederyn doubled back to head towards Eglwyswrw and then down to Eglwyswen, the place of the White Church. By teatime, so his stomach told him, Peter guessed that they were near Llanfair-Nant-Gwyn, and getting ready to cross the river Nevern.
“Cheer up,” said Anir, “nearly there now.”
And he grinned as the rain dripped off his hood, down his nose and fell ‘plop’ onto his saddle. Peter and Sarah were no more comfortable. Sarah’s cloak had begun to stick to her arms and as she looked at Peter she could see the water streaming down his face. She hardly noticed crossing the river as none of them could have been wetter than they were already.
Outside Eglwyswen, a sympathetic landowner had placed fields at Gwyn’s disposal. There were several tents up and more to be put up. The fields were surrounded by little copses and hedges and spinneys; so that from a distance not much could be seen.
Ederyn led the bedraggled army into the encampment. At once they were all made welcome. Tents seemed to be springing up everywhere, now. Horses were led away and as if by magic, Elves were everywhere, helping each other to food and dry clothing within each canvas castle. Above them, mists lay heavy, drowning the view of the Prescelly Mountains and the heights of Foel Drygarn.
Ederyn was shortly drawn into his brother’s tent and Anir followed with Peter and Sarah at his heels. There was great rejoicing at the meeting of Gwyn-ap-Nudd and Ederyn. After embracing each other heartily, Gwyn turned to the others.
“Well done; well done indeed! All is now ready for the morrow.”
Anir, Peter and Sarah bowed. Gwyn beckoned Peter forwards.
“Have you kept the Stone?”
“Yes, Lord!” said Peter, and drew it out of its bag and gave it to Gwyn, who looked at it closely and then gave it back.
“No! No!” he said, “You shall keep it until it is the time for using it, and then only if it is absolutely necessary. Then either I myself or even you, Peter will know what should be done with it.”
Peter took a pace backwards.
“You will not leave my side now, not you or your sister and Anir is to guard you as much as he can,” Gwyn said sternly.
Peter thought that Anir looked put out. As if he, a bold fighting man, had been asked to play at being a nanny. Gwyn ignored him and spoke to Ederyn.
“We hope to start before dawn. We shall go the back way and fall on them from Foel Cwmcerwyn, while the farmers will come upon them from Mynachlogddu. They have the easier road and a shorter march from Crymych.
“As far as we know a good proportion of the enemy is still at Arx Emain, guarding your front door,” said Ederyn.
“Good, splendid!” Gwyn smiled, a most merry smile, “I do hope Arddu is with them.”
“He may well be. We hope he still thinks that I am trapped within. Aneryn and those who are left will be encouraging that idea,” said Ederyn.
“Look to the maid!” said Anir sharply.
With horror, Peter, who had been caught up in the excitement of the discussion over battle plans, had not noticed Sarah getting greener and greener.
Since they had come into the tent, the humidity of the weather, the heaviness of the wet clothing and her empty stomach had all combined to make her feel most peculiar. Anir and Ederyn just managed to catch her as she fell down in a faint.
They laid her on Gwyn’s very own bed, which was behind a screen and left Peter to care for her. In fact she was not out cold for long and felt a complete idiot when she came round. Anir returned a few minutes later.
“I shall not sleep tonight, nor will most of the Elves, but you must,” he said.
He pulled out some sheepskins and made a bed for Peter.
“Sleep now, and wake strong for what may come at dawn, or before.”
And so they slept, but not until both had had a good go at the provisions they had packed away and also put on dry clothes.
Early next morning they were woken by Eldol and Echel, who brought them water for washing and drinking, and some dry cloaks. It was still dark, so it must have been very early morning.
They made a quick breakfast and were packing up when Gwyn himself appeared. Peter bowed low and Sarah got up from the floor. Gwyn made them stop.
“You are to remain by my side from this moment on, until either Arddu or the Elf Kingdoms are finished. We shall be friends and friends do not have to bow to each other every time they meet. Come! It is time to go and seek out what fate decrees should come to pass.”
Peter had thought that if they were to fall upon Arddu from the dizzy heights of Prescelly Top, that he and Sarah would find themselves doing an imitation of the S.A.S. up the hillside that morning.
In fact, he gathered from Gwyn that the Vanguard of the army, which by now numbered thousands, had done precisely that somewhat earlier. When their horses were brought to them by Eldol, they were told that they would be riding to Foel Cwmcerwyn via Crosswell, on the Nevern road. They were going with the rear guard for Ederyn had also gone ahead with about half those on horseback.
“We shall ride very calmly and quietly to join the rest of the armies,” said Gwyn.
“Where is Anir?” asked Sarah as they trotted out of the camp.
“He has gone to lead the farmers from Crymych to Mynachlogddu so that we shall all converge on Arddu at the same time. He will think it is only the farmers come to rattle their pitchforks at him. But when we sweep down from the hills, he will find out differently.”
“What about the stones round Arx Emain?” asked Peter.
“Messengers reported last night that they had gone. I have sent Echel with a small party to find out where they have gone. You are correct, Peter. It would not do to have them come upon us from behind. Although there were not too many of them, for the main part of Arddu’s mighty army is under the Prescelly Mountains. It might prove an embarrassment yet.”
Peter wriggled in his saddle. It was slightly uncomfortable to be in the company of those who could read his thoughts.
Sarah was still anxious.
“What about Anir, though? Ederyn said he was going to guard us.”
“And so he is, so he is, when the battle proper begins he will return to defend you. He has gone for a little while only. When the farmers are in place he will return. You see not many humans can or will see us. They can only see Arddu and his creatures if he wills it. Also, they can only see us if I will it. Many who do not believe in other worlds will see nothing at all, save the Great Beast of the Prescellys! And as many of his ugly creatures as he chooses to reveal to them. That will depend on how he sees the danger to himself, or how weak he becomes.”
By now they were passing through Crosswell, leaving the Nevern River to their right. Dawn was beginning to glimmer faintly in the East. Thank goodness it had stopped raining sometime in the night, but now felt extremely hot and humid.
“More rain on the way,” thought Peter.
The dawn light grew and in the early morning sunshine nature’s diamonds glittered everywhere. Gwyn spurred his horse on, and the others followed him. Fearless, he led them at a very brisk trot along the mettled road.
“Onwards and up!” cried the legions of Elves behind them.
“Onwards and up!” cried the rest.
A blue flag with a Gold Hill surrounded by trees was unfurled. They were almost at Foel Cwmcerwyn now. When they finally came to the cairn, Peter gasped: an army of thousands was standing at the ready armed with spears, bows and swords; flags and banners blowing in the dawn wind.
The sky was clear and it seemed to Sarah that they were only waiting for a sign to start. She and Peter kept right behind Gwyn as they were bid. Peter clutched the Stone to his breast and drew his sword, which gleamed and glittered in the sun.
Sarah was so nervous that she began to have hiccups. She wished heartily that she were a hundred miles away from there.