half a day’s ride from here. I’ll go with them and guide them back to the city. There’s plenty of ways into Abervenn by land.’
‘Very well. When do we leave?’ Dafydd glanced around at the cabin, suddenly keen to be gone from its confines.
It was Anwyn who answered: ‘Now might be good. I think Princess Iolwen’s about to give birth.’
5
The disparate territories and tribes that King Ballah I forged into the nation of Llanwennog were in ancient times a breeding ground for the many heresies that have deviated from the Shepherd’s truth. Much of the warring between the tribes was directly at the behest of priests favouring one interpretation or another of the divine words. There were those who claimed the Shepherd had not left Gwlad at all, but merely taken himself into hiding; those who said he had been trapped in the stars by the Wolf and would only escape at the end of all time. Some mad sects claimed that the Shepherd was no more than a dragon in disguise, while others worshipped the Wolf in acts of great depravity. But perhaps the greatest heresy of all was that which triumphed and now flourishes under the present King Ballah. For it would deny the existence of Shepherd or Wolf, or indeed of any higher being, and put man himself at the pinnacle of everything.
The Taming of the Northlands – A History of the Kings of Llanwennog
Melyn had taken to pacing the empty corridors of Gremmil Castle in the long hours he spent waiting for his scouts
to report back. Dondal’s information had opened up a tantalizing possibility, but it needed confirmation from a more trustworthy source. Failing that, he wanted supporting stories from as many separate people as possible, and he needed a timescale. If the King’s Festival was in the next few days, then there was no way he was going to be able to get to Tynhelyg and put his men in place. But if it wasn’t for three weeks, he had a chance.
The castle was eerily quiet without the bustle of servants. It was an old building, much extended and renovated, but like the town walls a relic of past times. Llanwennog had a long history of civil war before the House of Ballah had finally united it. Places like Gremmil had survived many a siege and launched many an attack.
Melyn was musing on how much easier it would have been to take the word of the Shepherd to the people if the nobles had still been at war with each other when he rounded a corner and found Frecknock standing in the corridor, staring at the wall.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, surprised more than angered. He no longer felt any need to keep her chained up. She immediately fell into her habitual crouch, dropping her eyes to the floor.
‘Please forgive me, Your Grace. I was studying the carvings.’
Melyn looked at the wall, noticing for the first time an elaborate frieze running the length of the corridor. To his surprise he recognized the story it depicted, though many of the figures had been crudely defaced.
‘Hah! This is the story of Balwen, when the Shepherd gave him the gift of magic so that he could look after the
whole of Gwlad. I’ve not seen such a fine representation outside Emmass Fawr.’
‘Is that what it is, Your Grace? I was wondering, what are those creatures in the middle panel? The ones that look like dragons.’
Melyn peered at the carving, then conjured up a ball of light to supplement the meagre illumination filtering through the grimy window on the far side of the corridor. Sure enough, in the fifth panel, where the Shepherd exhorted Balwen to look after all the creatures of Gwlad, there in the undergrowth were a pair of dragons.
‘An interesting heresy. Andro would be fascinated. Maybe when this war is over I’ll have this removed and taken back to the monastery for him to study.’ He ran his free hand over the stone, walking down the corridor until he reached the end of the tale. ‘But what is such a piece doing in a castle in godless Llanwennog? Unless
‘Very well. When do we leave?’ Dafydd glanced around at the cabin, suddenly keen to be gone from its confines.
It was Anwyn who answered: ‘Now might be good. I think Princess Iolwen’s about to give birth.’
5
The disparate territories and tribes that King Ballah I forged into the nation of Llanwennog were in ancient times a breeding ground for the many heresies that have deviated from the Shepherd’s truth. Much of the warring between the tribes was directly at the behest of priests favouring one interpretation or another of the divine words. There were those who claimed the Shepherd had not left Gwlad at all, but merely taken himself into hiding; those who said he had been trapped in the stars by the Wolf and would only escape at the end of all time. Some mad sects claimed that the Shepherd was no more than a dragon in disguise, while others worshipped the Wolf in acts of great depravity. But perhaps the greatest heresy of all was that which triumphed and now flourishes under the present King Ballah. For it would deny the existence of Shepherd or Wolf, or indeed of any higher being, and put man himself at the pinnacle of everything.
The Taming of the Northlands – A History of the Kings of Llanwennog
Melyn had taken to pacing the empty corridors of Gremmil Castle in the long hours he spent waiting for his scouts
to report back. Dondal’s information had opened up a tantalizing possibility, but it needed confirmation from a more trustworthy source. Failing that, he wanted supporting stories from as many separate people as possible, and he needed a timescale. If the King’s Festival was in the next few days, then there was no way he was going to be able to get to Tynhelyg and put his men in place. But if it wasn’t for three weeks, he had a chance.
The castle was eerily quiet without the bustle of servants. It was an old building, much extended and renovated, but like the town walls a relic of past times. Llanwennog had a long history of civil war before the House of Ballah had finally united it. Places like Gremmil had survived many a siege and launched many an attack.
Melyn was musing on how much easier it would have been to take the word of the Shepherd to the people if the nobles had still been at war with each other when he rounded a corner and found Frecknock standing in the corridor, staring at the wall.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, surprised more than angered. He no longer felt any need to keep her chained up. She immediately fell into her habitual crouch, dropping her eyes to the floor.
‘Please forgive me, Your Grace. I was studying the carvings.’
Melyn looked at the wall, noticing for the first time an elaborate frieze running the length of the corridor. To his surprise he recognized the story it depicted, though many of the figures had been crudely defaced.
‘Hah! This is the story of Balwen, when the Shepherd gave him the gift of magic so that he could look after the
whole of Gwlad. I’ve not seen such a fine representation outside Emmass Fawr.’
‘Is that what it is, Your Grace? I was wondering, what are those creatures in the middle panel? The ones that look like dragons.’
Melyn peered at the carving, then conjured up a ball of light to supplement the meagre illumination filtering through the grimy window on the far side of the corridor. Sure enough, in the fifth panel, where the Shepherd exhorted Balwen to look after all the creatures of Gwlad, there in the undergrowth were a pair of dragons.
‘An interesting heresy. Andro would be fascinated. Maybe when this war is over I’ll have this removed and taken back to the monastery for him to study.’ He ran his free hand over the stone, walking down the corridor until he reached the end of the tale. ‘But what is such a piece doing in a castle in godless Llanwennog? Unless
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