CHAPTER FOUR #3
As summer fell into autumn, so a rhythm to life at the Blaencwm settlement was established.
Once the injured were restored to good health, the main priority was to prepare for winter in their hideout.
With great caution, they made two trips to the village to retrieve what they could.
De Chapelle’s men had raided the houses for anything of value, but had been impatient in their work.
The villagers were able to find hens, clothes, some of Owain’s smithy tools, cooking pots and even six precious bags of corn.
They could not descend to the valley to fell larger trees with which to build more homes, however, as this would take too long and be too noticeable.
Those in the high river vale were too small to be used.
This meant they had to turn to simpler methods to construct dwellings that would keep out the fierce cold of the mountains in the months to come.
They collected bracken from the hill, drying it and cutting it to mix with mud gathered from the river banks.
They combined this with dung from the small collection of livestock they had.
This they applied to frames of sticks to form huts.
Whilst humble, the little houses were quick to build and weather proof, once thatched with reeds taken from the moorland atop the hills.
Everything they needed had to be gathered with great care, with two lookouts always on guard.
It was fortunate indeed that the twist in the high valley meant it was highly unlikely anyone in the lowlands would be able to see the smoke from their vital fires.
Every day, tasks were allocated, each person playing their part.
Their number totalled eighteen, the majority of which were children who had scattered to the hills when the doors of Lord Llewelyn’s home were finally breached.
There were two crofters and their families who had not been in the village at the time of the attack, and who had brought their small flocks of Welsh mountain sheep with them.
Dafydd had fought his way forwards, and was still swinging his wood axe when de Chapelle had called his men away.
Owain and Rufus had also survived the fray, along with the two soldiers who had returned wounded from the failed attempt to stop the raiding party earlier in the day.
Providing food for so many people was a challenge that could not be shirked by any member of the group, however young or frail.
Small children were set to foraging for berries and edible flowers.
The older women searched for mushrooms or dug up roots.
The more skilled among the group hunted rabbits or birds, the boys in particular quickly improving their talents with bows, earning the right to hunt only when they had spent many hours making arrows.
Snares were set. The precious sheep were guarded day and night, as was the single cow with her calf, and Dilly, the only horse that remained.
Those who were able collected firewood which was rationed and stacked high behind the barn.
Being the largest of the buildings, the barn was also used for meetings when group decisions were made for the good of the settlement.
It was a new experience for all of them to be a collection of equals, all with a say in how their lives should be lived and their futures secured.
It was not Gwen who railed against this, though some expected her to.
It was Mamgi who resisted it, on Gwen’s behalf.
She explained her reasons one late autumn night as they sat outside together watching a harvest moon rise above the distant hilltop.
‘You were born to greatness, merch. They must come to see that. To accept it.’
‘But, Mamgi, you have explained to me that I am not of noble birth. Lord Llewelyn was not my father. I am no more a noble than any man or woman of the village.’
She tutted impatiently. ‘I do not speak of Lords or Kings or any such earthbound rulers. I speak of your heritage as a witch of the White Shadow.’
‘Are you going to tell everyone about… about my secret? Please, grandmother, I beg you, do not. They are all of them Christians. They feel the loss of our priest and our church. They will not accept a witch!
‘They need to know. They will be the community that will support you and your trials for generations to come. They must follow you willingly and knowing what it is they do. And besides,’ she paused to pluck a blade of grass and chew it as she spoke.
‘There are those among them who knew your secret before you did.’
‘What? Who? Grandmother, you have to tell me. What a fool I must look to them, acting as if I had no knowledge of the truth… or they will think me deceitful. Tell me, who is it who knows my story?’
‘The carter.’
‘Dafydd? But he did not understand my going to his house the night he was assaulted. He questioned me about why I had really gone there, how I had known he was in trouble.’
‘He questioned you to discover if you knew why you had gone. Well? Do you?’
‘I…I knew they were in danger, both of them. I… sensed it.’
She nodded. ‘You were beginning to awaken to your gifts, though you did not see them as such. You will always be able to detect danger before it reaches you. There will be many who will owe their lives to that talent.’
Gwen thought about what she was being told. She remembered, then, how she had sensed the messenger approaching the house long before she or anyone else had heard him. The messenger bringing news of great danger indeed.
‘Who else knows?’ she asked again.
‘Bryn,’ she said, jerking her head in the direction of the shepherd’s house. ‘A crofter takes some persuading to give up his home.’
‘You told him and he believed you?’
‘You don’t get to my great age without having a few tricks up your sleeve.’
‘Magic tricks?’
‘You are not alone in being able to upend the way of things, you know that.’
‘I can hardly do anything. Oh, I can make a few flowers grow, and my hunting is better than any man here can do. It irks the men, indeed, that I outdo them with bow or throwing knife. And, yes, I can read danger on the wind, though mercifully there has been none near us these months. But magic? Truly?’ She lowered her head, picking up a small stone and rolling it in her fingers distractedly.
‘You are right in what you say, I confess. There are those here who will resist what you are. Some will be frightened, though that can hold them, as it has Bryn. Others will feel it against their own beliefs. Call you diawl!’
‘I am no devil.’
‘Some will demand you be cast out or worse. “Suffer not a witch to live” is what they have been told.’
‘But, I can help them, Mamgi. Can we ever make them see that?’
‘That is what you must do, but there is no promise that you will succeed. They may not heed your words. And if they do not, are you prepared for the consequences?’
‘I would have to leave, then. To be an outcast?’
‘Along with those who chose to stand by you, yes.’
‘To never come home…’ she muttered, instinctively turning her head in the direction of Cwmdu, of her old home, of her old life.
‘Are you willing to take that risk?’
Gwen sat silent for a moment, considering the question.
She had already lost so much, the possibility of losing the community that were now family to her, and of roaming homeless a world that would not welcome her, was a harsh reality to accept.
And yet, she found a certainty growing within her.
A knowledge of what she must do, of what she must become.
And with that knowledge came a scintilla of excitement.
A sparking joy, which gave her courage and strengthened her resolve.
‘I am,’ she said.
‘Truly? For there can be no turning back once that bold step is taken.’
‘Truly,’ she said emphatically.
Mamgi gave a startling bark of laughter. ‘Well, Duw!’ she said. ‘This is a fine and important day!’
‘It is?’
‘Why, yes. For now, this very minute, you have accepted what you are and shown that you wish for it. Even at the risk of being reviled as a witch you would learn the craft. Here is the acceptance I have waited for. Here is the moment you place your heritage above what you have always clung to. Yes! The hunger for magic is in you too, ready now to drive you on, as a wolf hungers for fresh meat.’
‘I would sooner not be a wolf!’
‘Think, cariad. Think how far you have come from the girl who did not want to hear the truth, to the girl who wants to learn magic, and will sing her song to the world, no matter what it might cost her.’ The old woman got to her feet, slapping her thigh as she did so.
‘Now you are ready!’ she declared before striding off towards the barn.
‘Where are you going?’ Gwen called after her.
‘To work! Come, merch, there is much to be done and the days are shortening.’