tenors in song could be heard echoing through the Halls as they rehearsed.
Ten oversized seats were placed around the huge oval oak table that dominated the centre of the room . Eight were high backed and richly carved and the ninth was a throne set at the head of the table where Aeron himself would sit. Afagddu would be in attendance, inconspicuously waiting in the shadows behind the throne ready to do his master’s bidding should it so be desired. The remaining chair, smaller than Aeron’s but no less adorned was reserved for Taliesin and positioned directly across the table at the opposite end.
This early preparation had Afagddu off balance. He decided the most prudent course of action was to put his plans on hold, at least for now. He would bide his time, he was patient when necessary. Afagddu tasted the bitter tang of disappointment when he realised the Morgan boy would now get to live, at least as long as the Solstice, but after that? Well Afagddu would have to wait and see. The boy had won only a reprieve, and that brought Afagddu at least some solace.
Finally satisfied everything was in order , Afagddu made his way to his own meagre cell to prepare himself for the evening ahead. His body servant had already pressed his finest black robes and laid them carefully out on his bed. Warm water filled the bowl on his washstand and a small fire already graced the hearth warming the room.
Of his servant there was no sign – he knew that Afagddu allowed no-one to watch him disrobe, a habit carried from his childhood. He hid his deformities away from a cruel, judgemental, ignorant world. Not even his own reflection was permitted to gaze upon his naked body, his private shame.
CHAPTER TEN
Mab stood naked in the centre of the clearing, immodestly twisting and turning to gaze at her body from every angle in the huge bronze mirror held by two beautiful Bwy Hir handmaidens. They cast encouraging glances to their queen as they stood passively on either side of the mirror supporting its weight.
Tylwyth Teg roamed through the clearing bearing refreshments for the Bwy Hir or tidying around them, keeping the place neat. Much smaller than the Bwy Hir, smaller even than Humans, the Tylwyth Teg where childlike in stature and most pleasing to behold. Both male and female were perfectly proportioned with the grace of dancers. They were shy and discreet, polite and capable. Humans called them fair-folk or fairies.
Mab critically viewed her reflection, running her hands over her sumptuous hips and thighs, tensing the mu scles on her long, shapely legs, squinting and pulling her face checking for any hint of a wrinkle. ‘Oh, I’m fading!’ she wailed, as she threw her hands up, storming to gather her flowing green robes around her.
Awel clicked her tongue . ‘You are not fading , Mab,’ she said testily. ‘Must we do this every year? There is time before the overwinter yet, time before we slumber.’ Awel fussed at her own robes, wishing she was half as beautiful as her queen until she checked herself. I’m as vain as she is! she thought, as she wriggled in her seat.
‘I am fading! I can feel it.’ Mab shuddered dramatically. ‘I can feel him too,’ referring to Aeron, ‘he is awake and potent. I can feel his strength from here already.’
‘So soon?’ questioned Awel . ‘He gains power quickly.’
‘As quickly as I wane!’ Mab moaned, wringing her hands.
A sudden gust buffeted the dell, sending leaves and petals spiralling into the air. Upon it came the sound of the horn calling the male Bwy Hir to Council and announcing the imminent conclusion of Summer’s reign.
The unexpected shock of the blast shattered the tranquillity of the glade and left chaos in its wake. The two Bwy Hir holding the mirror had released their grip, the mirror toppled backward to explode into glittering shards, the crash of breaking glass drowned by Mab’s frantic howl.
Awel jumped to her feet and straight
Ten oversized seats were placed around the huge oval oak table that dominated the centre of the room . Eight were high backed and richly carved and the ninth was a throne set at the head of the table where Aeron himself would sit. Afagddu would be in attendance, inconspicuously waiting in the shadows behind the throne ready to do his master’s bidding should it so be desired. The remaining chair, smaller than Aeron’s but no less adorned was reserved for Taliesin and positioned directly across the table at the opposite end.
This early preparation had Afagddu off balance. He decided the most prudent course of action was to put his plans on hold, at least for now. He would bide his time, he was patient when necessary. Afagddu tasted the bitter tang of disappointment when he realised the Morgan boy would now get to live, at least as long as the Solstice, but after that? Well Afagddu would have to wait and see. The boy had won only a reprieve, and that brought Afagddu at least some solace.
Finally satisfied everything was in order , Afagddu made his way to his own meagre cell to prepare himself for the evening ahead. His body servant had already pressed his finest black robes and laid them carefully out on his bed. Warm water filled the bowl on his washstand and a small fire already graced the hearth warming the room.
Of his servant there was no sign – he knew that Afagddu allowed no-one to watch him disrobe, a habit carried from his childhood. He hid his deformities away from a cruel, judgemental, ignorant world. Not even his own reflection was permitted to gaze upon his naked body, his private shame.
CHAPTER TEN
Mab stood naked in the centre of the clearing, immodestly twisting and turning to gaze at her body from every angle in the huge bronze mirror held by two beautiful Bwy Hir handmaidens. They cast encouraging glances to their queen as they stood passively on either side of the mirror supporting its weight.
Tylwyth Teg roamed through the clearing bearing refreshments for the Bwy Hir or tidying around them, keeping the place neat. Much smaller than the Bwy Hir, smaller even than Humans, the Tylwyth Teg where childlike in stature and most pleasing to behold. Both male and female were perfectly proportioned with the grace of dancers. They were shy and discreet, polite and capable. Humans called them fair-folk or fairies.
Mab critically viewed her reflection, running her hands over her sumptuous hips and thighs, tensing the mu scles on her long, shapely legs, squinting and pulling her face checking for any hint of a wrinkle. ‘Oh, I’m fading!’ she wailed, as she threw her hands up, storming to gather her flowing green robes around her.
Awel clicked her tongue . ‘You are not fading , Mab,’ she said testily. ‘Must we do this every year? There is time before the overwinter yet, time before we slumber.’ Awel fussed at her own robes, wishing she was half as beautiful as her queen until she checked herself. I’m as vain as she is! she thought, as she wriggled in her seat.
‘I am fading! I can feel it.’ Mab shuddered dramatically. ‘I can feel him too,’ referring to Aeron, ‘he is awake and potent. I can feel his strength from here already.’
‘So soon?’ questioned Awel . ‘He gains power quickly.’
‘As quickly as I wane!’ Mab moaned, wringing her hands.
A sudden gust buffeted the dell, sending leaves and petals spiralling into the air. Upon it came the sound of the horn calling the male Bwy Hir to Council and announcing the imminent conclusion of Summer’s reign.
The unexpected shock of the blast shattered the tranquillity of the glade and left chaos in its wake. The two Bwy Hir holding the mirror had released their grip, the mirror toppled backward to explode into glittering shards, the crash of breaking glass drowned by Mab’s frantic howl.
Awel jumped to her feet and straight
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