“Where food is taken alone, the repast is meager,” answered the ancient one affably. “Yet, where meat is shared among true companions of the hearth, the meal becomes a feast!”
The lord of the hearth laughed then, and we laughed with him, filling the grove with joyful sound. We finished our meal, glowing with the pleasure of warm food in our bellies.
“Drink with me, little men!” cried the ancient one in a voice that rattled the clustered leaves on the oak boughs. He clapped his hands, and the sound was like thunder.
“I cannot believe it!” gasped Llew, leaning close.
I heard a sound like the plunge of a rock into a deep pool. “What has happened?”
“It just appeared,” whispered Llew.
“What appeared?” I whispered back. “Be my eyes, man! Describe what you see.”
“It is a vat! A golden ale vat—the size of . . .” He stumbled in his search for words. “It is enormous! Fifty men could stand in it! It could serve three hundred!”
I heard the sound of another plunge, and into my hands was thrust a cup. But what a cup—a beaker the size of a bucket!—and filled with frothy ale.
Gofannon cried, “Drink! Drink, my friends! Drink and be happy.”
I lifted the beaker and quaffed cool, refreshing ale. It was the finest brew, bittersweet and crisp on the tongue, full-flavored and creamy rich—easily the best I have ever tasted, and I have drunk in the halls of kings.
I thought Llew would not be able to lift his cup at all, so I turned to him and offered mine. “Not to worry, brother,” he replied heartily, sucking foam from his mustache. “I just put my whole face into the cup!”
He laughed and I heard the sound of the man I knew returning. We drank and laughed, and I felt the torment of my wound and the distress of my blindness begin to loosen and fall away from me like burdens shed at the threshold. Yet it was not the food and drink and mirth alone. We were in the presence of one greater than the forge lord—one whose fellowship itself was a soothing balm, a boon of inestimable value. I forgot my injuries and weakness; in the presence of the Goodly-Wise I was hale and whole once more.
When we had eaten and drunk as much as we could hold, Gofannon said to me, “You have said you are a bard. Have you rank among your kind?”
“I am Penderwydd of Prydain,” I replied. “In former times I was Chief Bard to Meldryn Mawr.”
Our host made his throaty rumbling sound once more and then said, “It is long since I have heard the song of a bard in my grove.”
“If it would please you, Great Lord,” I said, “I will sing. What would you hear?”
The Master of Artisans thought for a time, rumbling to himself all the while. “Bladudd the Blemished,” he answered at length.
A curious choice, I thought. The “Song of Bladudd” is very old. It is little known and rarely sung—perhaps because there are no battles in it.
As if listening to my thoughts, Gofannon said, “It is a tale seldom heard, I know. Nevertheless, that is the tale I would hear. A true bard would know it.”
“So be it,” I said, rising to my feet. Standing before him, I suddenly missed my harp. “I must beg your pardon, lord, but I have no harp. Still, the song will suffer but little for its lack. That I promise you.”
“Never say it!” cried Gofannon in a voice that shivered the trees. “Why suffer even the lack of very little, when that little is so easily granted for the asking?”
“Great Lord,” I replied, still trembling from the mighty voice, “if it would please you, might I yet have a harp?”
“A harp!” he cried. “You ask for a harp, but you stand there with your arms dangling at your sides! Open your hands if you would receive.”
I opened my hands to him and received a harp. My arms closed around the familiar and comfortable weight, nestling the instrument against my chest and shoulder. I tried the harpstrings and found them melodious and resonant. What is more, the harpstrings were tuned. I struck a chord and the air was filled with a splendid sound, rich and vibrant. The harp was well made, a delight to play and hear.
I prepared myself to sing, pausing while my listeners settled themselves to receive the song. Then, loosing a shimmering chord, I began:
“In elder times, before pigs were known in Albion and beef was the meat of kings, there arose in Caledon a monarch of mighty renown, and Rhud Hudibras was his name.” My huge host grunted his approval, and the tale commenced.
“Now this chieftain, a man of esteem and well loved by his people, had three sons. The first son was a hunter and warrior of vast skill and cunning, and the second son was like the first. Both men enjoyed nothing more than feasting with fine companions and listening to the songs of bards. Life to them was good if mead filled their cups and a maiden filled their arms.
“But the third son cared nothing for hunting or warring. More pleasant to him was the obtaining of wisdom. Yes, more pleasant to him was knowledge than the harpsong of bards, or the feasting of friends, or even his arm around the slender waist of a girl. Bladudd was his name. Truth and knowledge were ever his delight, and this is the way of it:
“One day, King Rhud called his three sons to him and spoke kindly to them, saying, ‘I am ever at your service, my beloved. Good gifts are yours. Speak to me, my sons. Reveal to me your hearts’ desires. Ask anything and it will be granted to you.’
“The first two sons answered their father the king. ‘Our delight is hunting and feasting, as you know. Therefore, we ask nothing more than swift horses, plentiful game, and a warm fire and a welcome cup shared with good friends at the end of the day.’
“The Great King heard them and said, ‘These things you have already. Is there nothing more than I can give you?’ For it was in his mind and heart to bestow good gifts upon his favored ones.
“The sons, strong men and bold, held counsel with themselves and answered him, saying, ‘You are right when you say we have that which we desire already. Yet there is one thing we do not have.’
“‘You have but to name this thing, and it is yours, my bold ones,’ Rhud, Wise Father, said.
“Up spoke his sons in answer: ‘We would have years unnumbered so that we can enjoy the pursuit of these pleasures forever.’
“‘If that is what you desire,’ replied Rhud, ‘it is easily granted. But is there nothing else?’
“‘You have asked, and we have answered,’ replied the two hunters. ‘We seek nothing else.’
“‘Very well,’ the good king told them. ‘Go your way. The thing which you desire is yours.’
“Then the king,Wise Lord, turned to his youngest son, who stood a little apart, his brow wrinkled in thought. ‘Bladudd, my beloved,’ the father said, ‘I am ever at your service. Good gifts are yours. Speak to me, my son. Reveal to me your heart’s desire. Anything you ask will be granted to you.’
“Bladudd, who had been thinking hard the while, replied at once, ‘Father, since you are ever a man of your word, I will answer you forthrightly. As you know, the pursuit of truth and the getting of wisdom is all my delight. Yet I desire a thing, and know not if it will bring me pain or pleasure. I hesitated to speak it out for fear it will be denied.’
“‘What is it, son of mine?’ asked his father. ‘Speak your heart. Withhold nothing from me, and I will withhold nothing from you.’
“‘Then hear me when I say that I desire to journey to a land far away where my knowledge will be increased so that I will know the truth of all things and, knowing the truth, I will gain much wisdom. For I am not lying when I tell you that I have learned all there is to know in this realm—including charms for every enchantment. But what are charms and enchantments next to Truth?’
“When he heard this, Rhud, ever wise and loving father, both groaned and wept for joy. He groaned because he knew the hardship which awaited his beloved; he wept for joy because Bladudd desired a gift worth having above any other. To his son he said, ‘Where is this far-off land? What is its name?’
“Bladudd replied, ‘It is
a realm in the west, beyond the place where the sun sets in the sea. The Land of Promises is its name, and there the youngest child is wiser than the wisest man in this worlds-realm.’
“King Rhud raised his hands and said, ‘Go your way, my beloved son. You have that which you desire.’
“That very day Bladudd sailed away in a ship. He journeyed long and traveled far, sailing ever westward toward the place where the sun sets. He did not reach the far-off land in many days, nor even many more days. Six moons passed over his head at night, and then two more. On the night of the ninth moon’s birth, Beltain it was, a deep sleep fell upon him. He pulled his cloak over his head, closed his eyes, and soon lapsed into the most profound sleep he had ever known.
“It seemed to him but a short time, and he heard a sound like the voice of a flea. He awakened and, pulling back his cloak, he saw a dancing light. He heard faint music in the air. The light shone all around him, coming from the sea. Bladudd sat up straight and, gripping the boat with his hands, put his face into the water to see what made the light.
“If the light shining above the waves was fair to look upon, the light shining under the waves was dazzling. And the music was the loveliest he had ever heard. Yet it was neither the light nor the music which held him. Not at all. The thing which seized Bladudd’s attention was the sight of rounded green hills and apple trees in blossom.
“Where before the sight of fish and seaweed addressed him, now he saw birds and flowers—brilliant birds and sweeping meadows of blue and white flowers. The birds flew to the apple trees and began singing so sweetly that Bladudd thought his heart would burst. It was as if he had been deaf every day of his life until that music began.
“When he made bold to greet the birds, up in a swirl they rose with a flurry of wing beats. And when they alighted on the ground the birds became fifty young women of matchless beauty. Bladudd gazed rapturously upon these maidens and would have gladly continued gazing from that far-off time to this, except for the sudden appearance of a herd of stags racing over the hilltop.
“When the stags reached the place where the maidens waited, they were transformed into fifty young men as handsome as the women were beautiful. Each man wore a torc of thick gold around his neck; every maid wore a golden crown. They joined one another and began to disport themselves upon the meadow. And their game was marvelous to behold.
“And the grace of this wondrous race made Bladudd’s spirit yearn to join them. At once he climbed from the boat and leapt into the water. At the sudden appearance of Bladudd the maids turned into birds once more, and the young men into stags. Both birds and stags fled away over the hill.
“Quickly, Bladudd bethought himself what he might do. I will cover myself with a charm of concealment, he thought. And so he did.
“Thus hidden, he ran to the place where the young men had become stags and, choosing the foremost among them, threw his arms around the comely creature. In this way, the stag and Bladudd ran together side by side over the hill. Yet, though the stag had been first of all the others, because of Bladudd holding on to his neck the stag was last over the hill.
“On they ran and soon saw a mighty caer atop a hill both high and broad. Up to the caer flew the birds, with the stags running right behind. In the center of the caer stood a most wondrous hall. The lands around the caer far and far exceeded any Bladudd had ever seen for beauty, as did the king’s hall far outshine all others Bladudd knew.
“Upon entering the caer, the stags and birds changed into elegant young men and women once more. The young men laughed at the stag who had been first among them but was last to enter the caer. Laughing, his companions asked whether their sport had wearied him. ‘No,’ replied the youth, ‘yet when I first began to run, I suddenly felt a weight upon my neck. If death, who clings so tightly to mortal men, had fastened upon me, the weight could not have been greater.’
“The Fair Folk went into the hall then, and Bladudd followed. Invisible in his concealing charm, he found a pillar in the hall to stand beside and clamped his hand across his mouth to keep from exclaiming at all the things he saw. For wherever his eye fell, he saw treasures marvelous to behold, wonders beyond counting in every corner and cranny of the hall. And the least treasure he saw would have been richer by far than any in his own world. On a jeweled throne sat the king. His hair gleamed bright as a flame, and his face shone. If any were handsome in his court—and they were! They were!—the king himself was more handsome still.
“Bladudd thought he would not be discovered. But as soon as he took his place beside the pillar, up jumped the king and exclaimed, ‘There is a dead man among us!’ This so startled Bladudd that he forgot his concealing charm and became visible to the fair company.
“The king looked upon Bladudd and demanded of him his name and rank. ‘I come of blood that would not shame you in a guest,’ Bladudd replied proudly. ‘Since I am a stranger among you, I claim the same hospitality of you that you would ask of me if our places were changed: the best of meat and drink, a fair woman to be your companion, harpers to fill your ears with praises, the best place by the fire, and a pile of new fleeces for your bed.’
“‘Here is a fearless asker,’ remarked the king. ‘What do you mean, coming here like this?’
“‘I came here seeking truth which leads to wisdom,’ Bladudd answered. ‘I swear by the gods my people swear by, that I mean no one here any harm. Indeed, all my takings will leave you no poorer, for all I desire is some of your knowledge.’
“When the king heard this, he threw back his head and laughed out loud. ‘Think you that we part with our knowledge so lightly?’
“‘I find it never hurts to ask,’ replied Bladudd.
“‘That is true,’ affirmed the king. ‘At all events, I would have thought it beyond the ken of any mortal to find a way to this place, unless it was Bladudd ap Rhud Hudibras of Caledon.’
“‘I am that man,’ Bladudd declared, astounded that his name should be known among such great and powerful people.
“‘Well then,’ the king said, ‘your wit and fearless tongue have won you a place among us—though not, perhaps, the place you might have hoped for. You shall tend my pigs.’
“Thus Bladudd—who had never seen a pig, much less smelled one—became swineherd to the king of the Land of Promise. These pigs, Bladudd soon learned, were the most remarkable creatures he had ever seen. Their chief virtue was this: as often as they were killed and eaten, the pigs were alive the next day. But that was not all. Far from it! For it was the eating of the meat of these pigs which preserved the people of the king from death.
“For seven years, as it seemed to him, Bladudd kept watch over the wonderful pigs—though in all that time he had never the chance so much as to dip the tip of his littlest finger into the juice of a roasting pig, let alone to taste some of the meat. Yet every day at midday the king’s servants would come and drive away as many pigs as were needed for that night’s feasting. And every morning the pigs would be back in Bladudd’s care.
“Canny Bladudd watched and listened all the while. With his pigs he walked the Land of Promise, met the people, talked with them, and learned much. At night, he listened to the bards sing in the king’s hall and learned even more. Thus, despite his low estate, he grew in knowledge and was content.
“At the end of seven years, Bladudd was herding the peerless pigs by a stream one day. He heard the blast of a hunting horn and looked up to see a company of men riding recklessly through the brake. Around the riders ran their hounds, and both riders and hounds were in full pursuit of a magnificent stag, white as sea foam, with red horns and ears.
“The white stag leapt the stream in full flight—landing just a few paces from where Bladudd stood—gave a shake of its antlers and disappeared into the woods. The hounds and riders searched for the stag, and though the hounds bayed and the riders looked long, they could not find the trail again.
“Bladudd watched them, and discovered that he saw them as if in a reflecti
on in a pool and not as flesh and blood before his eyes. By this he knew that the stream was one of the boundaries separating one worlds-realm from the other, and that he was looking into the world he had left behind. He saw the bright patterns of their clothes and heard the rhythms of their speech as they spoke to one another, and a potent yearning came upon him. Tears burst from his eyes and he lay down beside the stream and wept for his former life.
“From that moment, Bladudd lost all desire to remain in the Land of Promise and sought to return to his own land once more. He set his mind on returning to his own kin and clan, and ever looked for his chance to do so.
“He watched and he waited, finding his chance at Samhain when the ways between the worlds stand open and crossings can be made. So, gathering his few belongings, Bladudd set off for the ford of the white stag. In secret he left the king’s caer, lest anyone try to stop him or talk him out of going. And he left driving nine of the king’s pigs before him, for he wanted to bring a boon to Albion.
“This was well, but the pigs squealed as they ran and wakened everyone with their piteous cries. The king heard the sound and gave chase. Bladudd fled, trying one charm after another to elude the king.
“Upon reaching the stream, plucky Bladudd bethought a charm which changed him into a salmon and the nine pigs into silver scales upon his back. But the king took the form of an otter. Then he changed himself to a squirrel and the pigs to nine nuts in a pine cone. But the king pursued him in the form of a ferret. Whereupon Bladudd changed himself into a heron and the pigs to nine feathers on his neck. But the king became a plummeting eagle. Lastly, Bladudd changed into a wolf and the nine pigs to burrs in his fur. But the king overtook him in the form of a hunter on horseback; he shook his spear over Bladudd and the pigs and changed them back into their own shapes.
“‘What an unfaithful swineherd,’ remarked the king.
“Boldly Bladudd answered him, ‘Not so, Mighty King. Seven years I have served you well. In all that time you have suffered no loss, for I have kept your pigs safe from predation of wolf and eagle, from wandering lost, from negligence and all such harm as comes to pigs. Not so much as a single hair from the pink hide of the smallest piglet has been lost. And as for the good I have had of them, well! I tell you the truth: I have not so much as laid one fingertip upon the skin of one when it was roasted and afterward licked that finger. Nor have you paid me so much as a kindly word for the service I have done you. Therefore, Bold King, it seemed good to me to select a small tribute from the increase of the herd.’