Raglan Road

Red Kite

Kymeth saw hawks circling in large numbers overhead and to the north. "A very good sign there were no more wyverns to worry about," she said to no one in particular. She looked to the north, and noted the single mountain rising above the hills a few miles off. The lone peak of Graig Syfyrddin was likely the home for the slayers-now-slain, and there were likely more of them. Mae and Rae demanded to hunt down every last one of them. While avenging the death of Murphy would have been a great deed, it would have left them out in the open after dark in a very hostile and unforgiving place. Continuing on the road to kinsmen was their only real choice and doing so with haste was prudent.

As she rode on, she thought on the young Irishman’s sacrificial act. Manawydan had heard him and granted him a boon, which he had then bestowed on Katrin. She was returned to her family whole, if a bit confused. He, however, chose to take his place among the circle of his ancestors. He gave his love a selfless gift she could never repay. Not only could she never repay it, she also could not give him a burial place with his ancestors and had no dignified way to get his body to their own kinsmen. The loss of horses was remedied somewhat by tracking down three of them. Two had been killed, and one was unable to be found, leaving them very short with 10 miles of travel yet before them.

Ok, it's not an elk. And, well, the kids aren't Welsh, either.

She looked over at Ama, astride a giant elk with Jon and Mae seated behind her, amazed of what the young woman was capable. While they were discussing how best to honor Murphy, the elk nuzzled Ama and told her the pixies and dryad would care for his body and honor his sacrifice with an enduring memorial beyond the capability of mortal men. Ama could not say exactly how the Tylweth Teg planned to keep his name alive, the dryad’s speech being translated through an elk, but she was convinced they meant something permanent. Without a lot of good choices, she had accepted the fay offer. When they started off again, the elk came up behind the group and walked with them, occasionally nuzzling Ama. Eventually she got the hint and moved onto his back with Jon and Mae. Once they were all riding, they were able to start making up lost time.

What was his last name, anyway?

They continued westward toward mountains rising on the horizon. Arwelshire was nestled on the edge of the valley between Glamorganshire and the Wild Mountains to the north. As the Afon Usk came into view off to their left, with water flowing out of the west and taking a sharp bend to the south, Kymeth knew they would soon see outlying farms across it with more herds of goats the closer they neared the valley. She saw the signal fires being lit alerting the watch that travelers were on the road and felt comforted knowing they were again being protected by family. Freshly plowed furrows were now on both sides of the river which was different than the last time she had been here. It would mean his oldest sons had taken on fields of their own. Were their wives her kin? And no word of the marriages? She would definitely ask Arwel about that! Perhaps Aelwen would be a better source. There would be more time to talk with her during the day when the men were in the
fields.

Tylweth Teg have close ties!

As the sun sank below the mountains rising before them, bonfires sprung up throughout the valley. Music and laughter filled the air with songs of welcoming begun perhaps a bit early. Once they had crossed the river, they could see scores of people gathered around a massive fire, all singing of waiting, watching, and welcoming. The weary travelers were suddenly less weary and entered into the song with a surprising keening. This was clearly unexpected by the gathered clan and they fell silent. The travelers dismounted and sang of fright and flight, of lost love and sacrifice, and of blessings received and blessings bestowed. All fell silent while Katrin keened alone for a few moments. Soon her mother, and then her sisters, joined in. All of the women came forward from around the fire and formed a circle around the travelers, joining the keening as they came. They continued on for some minutes and then the valley was silent. Only the crackling of the fire broke the silence and, in a way, served to make it even more profoundly quiet.

Shrill wailing of pipes ended the moment, immediately followed by powerfully booming drums. A cheer went up as a tall, solidly built man stepped into the circle and proclaimed “Welcome to the Shire of Arwel. You are with kin and you are home.”

Ok, this is what I was thinking when I was writing...