The Silver Hand

  “‘You stole my pigs!’ railed the king.

  “‘Not so, Great Lord. I have undertaken to save the honor of your good name and make your renown as high in my land as in your own by delivering these pigs to my people as a gift from you to them. This I have done so that no one could think you mean and miserly.’

  “The king’s face became black with anger. ‘That was ill-spoken,’ he roared. ‘You have no idea of the trouble your meddling would have caused if I had not prevented you. A most terrible and wearisome trial awaited you if these pigs ever set foot in your lands. Yet, for the sake of the innocent, I will prevent it. You can thank me for my kindness.’

  “‘Then I thank you for nothing,’ snapped the bold prince.

  “‘You came seeking knowledge—’

  “‘And knowledge I received—no thanks to you.’

  “‘Yet, if you had but learned to give up your selfishness and pride, you would have received a far greater gift then ever you could dream of asking.’

  “So saying, the king raised his spear and struck Bladudd squarely on the head, so hard that all sense fled him and he fell down on the ground as one asleep. When Bladudd opened his eyes he was in Albion once more; of the king and his impressive pigs there was no sign.

  “But there was this: the blow visited on Bladudd by the king had blighted his body so that he lost all beauty and seemliness. His hair fell out, his teeth rotted, his skin became inflamed, and his muscles withered. His once-fine clothes hung off him in filthy rags. He looked as one whom Lord Death has groomed for his own.

  “So he tried by every means to restore himself. Alas, all he had learned availed him nothing. He could not undo the harm which had overwhelmed him.

  “When Bladudd understood this, he mourned. ‘A very chilly home coming I foresee for myself. This is not the form of a man to be celebrated by his friends, nor yet praised by bards, far less to win the favors of fair women.’

  “He gathered his ragged clothes around him as best he could and made his miserable way to the fortress of his father. The people he encountered shrank from the sight of him, and no one made bold to stop him—until he reached the gates of his father’s stronghold. The gatesmen were unwilling to admit him. ‘Who are you?’ they asked. ‘What do you want here? What makes you think we would allow the likes of you to see our king?’

  “‘Who I am and what I do are my own affair,’ the mysterious stranger replied. ‘As for your king, tell him I am a man who can tell of marvels beyond imagining. And if that does not move him, tell him I have word of his lost son, Bladudd.’

  “As soon as King Rhud heard of this, he ordered the stranger to be brought before him at once. ‘Who are you, lord?’ Rhud asked politely. ‘More to the point, what tidings have you of my son?’

  “‘Your son stands before you now,’ the stranger replied, spreading his hands wide so that the rags fell from him and he stood revealed for the hideous sight he was.

  “The Goodly-Wise King wept. And Prince Bladudd wept. And all his kin and clansmen wept too. For, as handsome as he had once been, he was now that ugly. After a while they left off weeping, brought the young man bread and meat and good drink and, as he refreshed himself from his journey, he told them his fabulous tale. The king heard all his son told him, and then held council with his chieftain to decide if anything could be done.

  “‘It is a sad case, and most lamentable,’ said one of the king’s counselors. ‘Nevertheless—please, forgive me for what I am about to say— the ways of kingship are clear: the blemished man cannot be king. Bladudd, you must agree, is blemished worse than most. Therefore the prince cannot resume his place among the silver-torced nobles worthy to be king.’

  “The wise counselor spoke the sorry truth. Even blighted Bladudd agreed that there was nothing for him but to hide himself away from the sight of men. He took himself far off and built a house in the forest where no one would see his blemish.

  “Thus for seven years he dwelt in his lonely house with but one servant to aid him. In all that time, no man came near him, much less did he see the fair form of a woman. One day, at the end of seven years, his servant came to him and said, ‘Bladudd, get up. Someone has come to see you.’

  “‘That is a marvel,’ replied Bladudd. And glancing around, he asked, ‘Where is this extraordinary person?’

  “‘Standing without, awaiting your will, lord.’

  “‘Admit my visitor at once!’ cried Bladudd. ‘That is my will!’

  “Directly, the visitor was admitted. And upon removing the hood which covered the head, there stood revealed before Bladudd a woman. This woman possessed neither beauty nor bearing. Wall-eyed, gap-toothed, and heavy-lipped, she was plain as mud. Yet she was beguiling to Bladudd by the very reason that she came willingly into his presence and did not flinch or retch at the sight of him, but stood smiling all the while as if Bladudd’s grotesque appearance were nothing to her. Warmly she greeted him, showing neither fear nor disgust at his deformity.

  “Bladudd was enthralled; he was intrigued. ‘Who are you, woman? Where is your home, and what errand brings you here?’

  “‘I come from a place well-known to you, though you may not think so. And I come seeking you because I have glad tidings for you.’

  “‘Then why keep me waiting? I am starving for some good word,’ exclaimed Bladudd. ‘Tell me these glad tidings at once!’

  “‘I have discovered a way to heal you, lord, if healing be a thing you desire.’

  “‘Desire!’ cried the blemished prince. ‘The bards have no word for the magnitude of my desire to be healed. I will tell you about desire! Did you know that I have seen no woman in seven years? Nor man neither, for that matter, except my servant. Of course I desire to be healed!’

  “‘Very well,’ the woman said, ‘follow me.’

  “Bladudd was persuaded to follow her at once, but the thought of the dreadful effect his appearance had on his kinsmen made him wary. ‘Wait. How do I know you mean me good and not harm?’ he asked. ‘Forgive me, but you might lead me out to humiliation and disgrace.’

  “‘Have it your own way, prince,’ the woman replied. She turned on her heel and made to leave.

  “‘Wait!’ shouted Bladudd. ‘Where are you going?’

  “‘Make up your mind, Bladudd,’ the woman replied. ‘Will you accompany me, or not?’

  “‘I will,’ Bladudd said. He gathered his rags about him and hastened after the woman.

  “The blemished prince followed his visitor, and she led him to a barren hill, beyond that to a barren moor, and beyond that to a pool of stinking, black, bubbling mud.

  “‘Throw off your rags and bathe in the pool,’ the plain woman told him as she settled herself upon a rock. ‘There is healing in the water.’

  “Bladudd peered doubtfully at the smelly ooze. The surface of the mud heaved and sighed, exhaling stinking fumes. It seemed to him more a punishment than a healing. Yet he did not want to offend his visitor further, and they had come a long way. So into the foul pool he went.

  “The mud was hot. It burned his skin. Tears ran from his eyes in a stream. But Bladudd, who had borne his sorry affliction with great fortitude, endured the pain for the sake of his desire to be healed. Even so, he could not endure forever. When the scalding mud bath grew too hot, he pulled himself from the stinking pool to stand before the woman.

  “‘This is splendid to look upon, to be sure,’ Bladudd remarked, looking indignantly down the length of his mud-caked form, ‘Yet I had hoped for more.’

  “‘For that I should leave you as I found you,’ the woman told him. ‘Nevertheless, your cure is almost finished.’ The gap-toothed woman pointed to a willow tree, which Bladudd had not seen before. ‘At the foot of that tree is a vat of water. Wash the mud from yourself and you will be surprised at what you see, though you may not think so.’

  “Bladudd took himself to the vat, climbed in, and washed. The water was clear and cool, soothing to his mud-blistered skin. He relaxed i
n the water and forgot his pains. When he finally stirred himself to rise from the vat, he had been renewed in his mind. He looked at his poor, ravaged body and, marvel of marvels, saw that his body, too, had been renewed.

  “He took himself directly to the woman who sat waiting for him on her rock. ‘I am healed!’ he told her, gazing with joy down the length of his body. ‘Indeed, I am not lying when I tell you that I am better now than when the king of the Land of Promise smote me with the haft of his spear.’

  “When the woman made no reply, the prince looked up and saw that the plain woman was gone and in her place was the most beautiful maid he had ever seen. Her hair was so pale yellow it was almost white; her skin was fair and smooth as milk, and her eyes were deepest blue and glowed like gemstones; her teeth were fine and even and her nose straight; her brow was smooth; her neck was slender and elegant; her fingers were long, her arms supple, her breasts soft and shapely. She was the maid of Bladudd’s fondest dreams.

  “‘Lady,’ breathed Bladudd in a small, awestricken voice, ‘where is the gap-toothed woman who conducted me to this place? I must thank her for the singular service she has rendered me.’

  “The comely maid looked at Bladudd; she looked to the left and to the right also. ‘I see no other woman here,’ she replied. And, oh, her voice was like melting honey. ‘Indeed, I think that you must be mistaken. Or perhaps you believe that I am gap-toothed?’

  “At this she smiled so sweetly that Bladudd’s knees trembled and he feared he might fall on his face before her. ‘Lady,’ he said, ‘I declare neither fault nor flaw in you at all.’

  “‘Nor I in you,’ the lady told him. ‘But perhaps you would be more at your ease if you put on some clothes.’

  “Bladudd blushed and looked around him. ‘You are right to remind me,’ he replied, espying his filthy rags on the ground where he had shed them. ‘Yet I will go without cloak and clothes rather than wear those rags again.’

  “‘Rags?’ replied the lady wondrous fair. ‘You must be used to very fine clothes indeed if these be rags to you.’ So saying, she leaned from her rock and lifted the heap of clothing. The startled Bladudd saw that his rags had become the finest clothes imaginable.

  “‘My clothes?’ he wondered aloud, as well he might, for he beheld cloak, siarc, breecs, and buskins more costly, more luxurious than anything even his father King Rhud Hudibras possessed. ‘Are these mine?’

  “‘You cannot think they are mine,’ the lady replied, smoothing her soft white mantle with slender hands. ‘And between the two of us,’ she added, ‘it seems to me you have the greater need.’

  “The astonished Bladudd dressed himself quickly, exulting in the excellent craft of his new raiment. When he had finished, he appeared a king. ‘I tell you the truth,’ he announced, ‘I am no stranger to good things, but I have never owned clothes this fine.’

  “‘Will you forget your sword?’ asked the lady.

  “Bladudd looked and saw that the lady held a golden-hilted sword across her palms. ‘Is this mine?’ he asked, suspecting a trick. For no one he knew had ever owned a weapon half so splendid.

  “‘I see no one but you here before me,’ the lady replied. ‘And I tell you truly, I am well pleased with the sight.’

  “Happy Bladudd strapped the sword to his hip and felt even more a king than before. He gazed lovingly upon the maid. ‘Great Lady,’ he breathed, his heart swelling with love and gratitude, ‘what is your name that I might know you?’

  “The maid so fair gazed at Bladudd from beneath her long lashes. ‘Do you not know me at all?’ she asked.

  “‘If I had ever seen you before,’ he answered, ‘you can be assured I would remember you. If even I heard your name but once, I would live forever on the sound.’

  “The maid rose from her place on the rock. She smiled and lifted her hand to Bladudd. ‘My name is Sovereignty,’ she replied. ‘Long have I sought you, Bladudd.’

  “The unblemished Bladudd held his head to one side. ‘A name like no other,’ he said. ‘Yet it becomes you most nobly.’ Then he took her warm hand and the holding of it filled him with pleasure. ‘Lady,’ he said, ‘will you accompany me to my home?’

  “‘And here was I beginning to think you would never ask,’ the comely maid replied. She pointed to the willow tree, where two horses now stood tethered. Together the maid and the unblemished prince rode to the realm of Rhud Hudibras.

  “When the father beheld his son, restored to him in all perfection, he wept tears of joy, so great was his rejoicing. And he called for a feast to celebrate the return of his once-blemished son. ‘You are healed, my beloved!’ the king exclaimed through his tears. ‘Tell me how this came to be.’

  “And the happy prince described all that had happened to him since he and his father had last sat beneath the same roof: the seven years of lonely exile, the coming of his visitor, the bath of scalding mud, the pool, the appearance of the maid, everything. King Rhud heard the tale, shaking his head slowly, marveling at all he heard.

  “‘So I asked the maid to accompany me to my home,’ Bladudd concluded, ‘and here she is.’ He turned his loving gaze upon the maid and said, ‘I hope she will stay with me forever. Indeed, I do not think I could live one day longer if she removed herself from my sight.’

  “‘I will stay with you, Bladudd,’ the maid replied.

  “‘Will you yet wed me?’ asked Bladudd, his heart beating like a struck drum.

  “‘I will wed you, Bladudd,’ vowed the maid most fair. ‘Indeed, I was born for you, and you for me—if only you knew it.’

  “So Bladudd and the most beautiful maid in all the land were wed that very day. And on that day did Bladudd also become king. For when his father saw how wise and good his son had become, and how fair and wise was his wife, Rhud Hudibras removed his golden torc and called his chieftains, and his people gathered close about. He called his Chief of Song, and before the close-clustered host, he said, ‘Listen to me everyone!

  “‘I am no longer to be king,’ he declared. And the tribes began a lament, for he had been a lord both great and good. ‘It is for you to choose one to follow me,’ he told his bard. ‘Choose wisely now, and choose you well.’

  “The bard and the people deliberated a while, and the king waited. When a suitable time had passed, he said, ‘Well? What is your decision?’

  “The bard, in the voice of the people, answered with a loud cry, saying, ‘We know we shall never find a lord as great and good as you to rule over us, but since you say you must cease to be king—which we will long and bitterly regret—we choose Bladudd. May he be to us a pillar of protection and a sword of rightwise judgment.’

  “Rhud beamed his pleasure, for the people had read his heart aright. And the Chief of Song placed the golden torc of kingship around Bladudd’s throat. From that day, Bladudd ruled wisely and well. His keen desire for Truth and his wife, Sovereignty, stood by him through all things—and through all things did Bladudd prosper.

  “Here ends the tale of the Blemished Prince. Let him receive it who will.”

  The last notes of the harp strings lingered long in the grove. I took my place by the fire once more, put the harp aside, and drank from my cask of a cup. I heard the silence of the grove deepening as night drew its cloak over us, gathering us to its dark heart.

  At last, Gofannon, his voice a quiet thunder from the mound, stirred himself and said, “I have been blessed by the gift of your song—and no less by the gift of your excellent companionship.”

  “It is for us to thank you, lord,” I replied. “Your food and drink are the saving of us.”

  “Tch!” the giant said impatiently, “Meat and drink satisfy for only a short time and they are gone. But the gift you have given me goes with me and sustains me wherever I wend. By merit of this truth, I grant you a boon: I will give you the virtue of your song.”

  “Great Lord Gofannon,” I said, “we have enjoyed the bounty of your hearth, your kindness, and your company. Indeed, you ha
ve already granted us more than we had any right to ask.”

  “Nevertheless,” the giant answered, “I will reward you well for the service you have done me this night.” I heard a rustle, and the great lord’s voice sounded from a place high above me. “We will sleep now,” he said. “Rest you in peace by my fire. Worry not. No enemy will intrude upon your repose; nothing will disturb you in my grove.”

  The voice receded, dwindling, and I realized that the lord of the grove was withdrawing to his cavern. His voice came back to us as he left us to our rest. “My reward will come to you in good time,” he said. “See that you are ready to receive it.”

  12

  DRUIM VRAN

  He gave it to you,” said Llew. “He meant you to have it.”

  I was tempted. Never had I held such a harp. “Did he leave anything else behind?” I asked.

  Llew paused as he gazed around the camp. “No,” he said. “Just the harp. The ale vat is gone, and the cups, and even the leavings from our meal. Everything is gone but the harp. It is yours, I tell you. It even has a strap.”

  We had awakened to find the grove empty and the forge lord gone. But he had left the harp. Perhaps, as Llew insisted, Gofannon meant it for me. But I had begun to have doubts about our gigantic host.

  “You might as well take it, Tegid,” Llew urged, “because you cannot leave it lying here.”

  “You are right, brother,” I relented, seizing the strap and slinging the harp over my shoulder. “Let us go.”

  Silently, so as not to disturb the peace of the nemeton, we crept away—Llew leading and I walking just behind with my left hand on his shoulder, feeling my way with the ash branch in my right hand. We did not return to our camp of the day before but took up the trail along the river once more. We walked a long time. I could tell Llew was thinking, and I had thoughts of my own to occupy me.