The wild-haired hag opened her gaping, toothless mouth and laughed in Bran's face. '0 man of little understanding! Do you not know that whoever possesses the Cauldron of Rebirth is the Lord of the Forest: He is my husband, and I am his wife.' Reaching out, she seized him with her scaly, clawlike hands and pressed her drooling lips close to his face.
Repulsed, Bran reared back and shook off her grip. He started to run away, but she pursued him with uncanny swiftness. Bran changed himself into a stag and bolted away at speed, but the hag became a wolf and raced after him. When Bran saw that he could not elude her that way, he changed into a rabbit; the hag changed into a fox and matched him stride for stride. When he saw that she was gaining on him, Bran changed into an otter, slid into the clear-running stream, and swam away. The hag, however, changed into a great salmon and caught him by the tail.
Bran felt the hag's teeth biting into him and leapt from the stream, dragging the salmon with him. Once out of the water, the salmon loosed its hold, and instantly Bran turned into a raven and flew away.
But the hag, now become an eagle, flew up, seized him in her strong talons, and pulled him from the sky. 'You led me on a fine chase, but I have caught you, my proud raven!' she cackled with glee, resuming her former repulsive shape. 'And now you must marry me.'
Squirming and pecking at the bony fingers clasped tightly around him, Bran, still in the form of a raven, cried, 'I never will! I have promised myself to another. Even now she is waiting for me on the shining shore.'
'Bran, Bran,' said the hag, 'do you not know that I am that selfsame woman?' Smiling grotesquely, she told him all that had happened to him since meeting him that very morning on the strand where she went every day in the guise of a beautiful lady to search for a champion to become her mate. 'It was myself you promised to take to wife,' she concluded. 'Now lie with me and do your duty as a husband.'
Horrified, Bran cried out, 'I never will!'
'Since you refuse,' said the old woman, still clutching him between her hands, 'you leave me no choice!' With that, she spat into her right hand and rubbed her spittle on Bran's sleek head, saying, 'A raven you are, and a raven you shall remain-until the day you fulfil your vow to take me to wife.'
The hag released Bran then, and he found that though he could still change his shape at will-now one creature, now another-he always assumed the form of a raven in the end. Thus, he took up his duties as Rhi Bran the Hud, Lord of the Forest, whom some call the Dark Enchanter of the Wood. And from that day to this, he abides as a great black raven still.
The last note faded into silence. Laying aside the harp, Angharad gazed at the rapt young man before her and said, 'That is the song of King Raven. Dream on it, my son, and let it be a healing dream to you.
PART THREE
CHAPTER
22
warm winds from the sea brought an early spring, and a wet one. From Saint David's Day to the Feast of Saint John, the sky remained a low, slate-grey expanse of dribbling rain that swelled the streams and rivers throughout the Marches. Then the skies finally cleared, and the land dried beneath a sun so bright and warm that the miserable Outlanders in their rusting mail almost forgot the hardships of the winter past.
The first wildflowers appeared, and with them wagons full of tools and building materials, rolling into the valley from Baron de Braose's extensive holdings in the south. The old dirt trackways were not yet firm enough, but Baron de Braose was eager to begin, so the first wagons to reach the valley churned the soft earth into deep, muddy trenches to swamp all those who would come after. From morning to night the balmy air was filled with the calls of the drivers, the crack of whips, and the bawling of the oxen as they struggled to haul the heavyladen vehicles through the muck.
The Cymry also returned to the lower valleys from their winter sanctuaries in the high hills. Although most had fled the cantref, a few remained-farmers for the most part, who could not, like the sheep and cattle herders, simply take their property elsewhere-and a few of the more stubborn herdsmen who had contemplated their choices over the winter and concluded that they were unwilling to give up good grazing land to the Ffreinc. The farmers began readying their fields for sowing, and the herdsmen returned to the pastures. Following the age-old pattern of the clans from time past remembering-working through the season of sun and warmth, storing up for the season of rain and ice, when they took their ease in communal dwellings around a shared hearth-the people of the region silently reasserted their claim to the land of their ancestors. For the first time since the arrival of the Ffreinc, Elfael began to assume something of its former aspect.
Count Falkes de Braose considered the reappearance of the British a good sign. It meant, he thought, that the people had decided to accept life under his rule and would recognise him as their new overlord. He still intended to press them into helping build the town the baron required-and the castles, too, if needed-but beyond that he had no other plans for them. So long as they did what they were told, and with swift obedience, he and the local population would achieve a peaceable association. Of course, any opposition to his rule would be met with fierce retaliation-still, that was the way of the world, and only to be expected, no?
Anticipating a solid season of industry-a town to raise and border fortifications to be established-the count sent a messenger to the monastery to remind Bishop Asaph of his duty to supply British labourers to supplement the ranks of builders the baron would provide. He then busied himself with supervising the allotment of tools and materials for the various sites. Together with the architect and master mason, he inspected each of the sites to make sure that nothing had been overlooked and all was in readiness. He personally marked out the boundaries for the various towers and castle ditch enclosures, spending long days beneath the blue, cloud-crowded sky, and counted it work well done. He wanted to be ready when the baron's promised builders arrived. Time was short, and there was much to be done before the autumn storms brought an end to the year's labour.
Nothing would be allowed to impede the progress he meant to make. Only too aware that his future hung by the slender thread of his uncle, the baron's, good pleasure, Falkes agonised over his arrangements; he ate little and slept less, worrying himself into a state of near exhaustion over the details large and small.
On a sunny, windblown morning, the master mason approached Falkes on one of his visits to the building sites. 'If it please you, sire, I would like to begin tomorrow,' he said. Having supervised the raising of no fewer than seven castles in Normandie, Master Gernaud- with his red face beneath his battered straw hat and faded yellow sweat rag around his neck-was a solid veteran of the building trade. These were to be the first castles he had raised outside France.
'Nothing would please me more,' the count replied. 'Pray begin, Master Gernaud, and may God speed your work.'
'We will soon have need of the rough labourers,' the mason pointed out.
'It has been arranged,' replied the count with confidence. 'You shall have them.'
Two days passed, however, and none of the required British volunteers appeared.
When, after a few more days, not a single British worker had come to any of the building sites, Falkes de Braose sent for Bishop Asaph and demanded to know why.
'Have you spoken to them?' asked Falkes, leaning on the back of his oversized chair. The hall was empty save for the count and his guest; every available hand-excepting his personal servants and a few soldiers required to keep the fortress in order-had been sent to help with the construction.
'I have done as you required,' replied the churchman in a tone suggesting he could do no more than that.
'Did you tell them we must have the town established? Each day delayed is another day we must work in the
