The Mabinogion Vol. 2 by Sir Owen Morgan Edwards and Lady Charlotte Schreiber (best thriller novels of all time txt) 📕

best medical assistance in the kingdom.”  “I will do so, p. 58gladly,” said Geraint.  And Enid was placed upon the horse of one of the Little King’s squires, and they went forward to the Baron’s palace.  And they were received there with gladness, and they met with hospitality and attention.  And the next morning they went to seek physicians; and it was not long before they came, and they attended Geraint until he was perfectly well.  And while Geraint was under medical care, the Little King caused his armour to be repaired, until it was as good as it had ever been.  And they remained there a fortnight and a month.

Then the Little King said to Geraint, “Now will we go towards my own Court, to take rest and amuse ourselves.”  “Not so,” said Geraint, “we will first journey for one day more, and return again.”  “With all my heart,” said the Little King, “do thou go then.”  And early in the day they set forth.  And more gladly and more joyfully did Enid journey with them that day than she had ever done.  And they came to the main road.  And when they reached a place where the road divided in two, they beheld a man on foot coming towards them along one of these roads, and Gwiffert asked the man whence he came.  “I come,” said he, “from an errand in the country.”  “Tell me,” said Geraint, “which is the best for me to follow of these two roads?”  “That is the best for thee to follow,” answered he, “for if thou goest by this one, thou wilt never return.  Below us,” said he, “there is a hedge of mist, and within it are enchanted games, and no one who has gone there has ever returned.  And the Court of the Earl Owain is there, and he permits no one to go to lodge in the town except he will go to his Court.”  “I declare to Heaven,” said Geraint, “that we will take the lower p. 59road.”  And they went along it until they came to the town.  And they took the fairest and pleasantest place in the town for their lodging.  And while they were thus, behold, a young man came to them, and greeted them.  “Heaven be propitious to thee,” said they.  “Good Sirs,” said he, “what preparations are you making here?”  “We are taking up our lodging,” said they, “to pass the night.”  “It is not the custom with him who owns the town,” he answered, “to permit any of gentle birth, unless they come to stay in his Court, to abide here; therefore, come you to the Court.”  “We will come, gladly,” said Geraint.  And they went with the page, and they were joyfully received.  And the Earl came to the hall to meet them, and he commanded the tables to be laid.  And they washed, and sat down.  And this is the order in which they sat, Geraint on one side of the Earl, and Enid on the other side, and next to Enid the Little King, and then the Countess next to Geraint, and all after that as became their rank.  Then Geraint recollected the games, and thought that he should not go to them; and on that account he did not eat.  Then the Earl looked upon Geraint, and considered, and he bethought him that his not eating was because of the games, and it grieved him that he had ever established those games, were it only on account of losing such a youth as Geraint.  And if Geraint had asked him to abolish the games, he would gladly have done so.  Then the Earl said to Geraint, “What thought occupies thy mind, that thou dost not eat?  If thou hesitatest about going to the games, thou shall not go, and no other of thy rank shall ever go either.”  “Heaven reward thee,” said Geraint, “but I wish nothing better than to go to the games, and to be shown the way thither.”  “If that p. 60is what thou dost prefer, thou shalt obtain it willingly.”  “I do prefer it, indeed,” said he.  Then they ate, and they were amply served, and they had a variety of gifts, and abundance of liquor.  And when they had finished eating, they arose.  And Geraint called for his horse and his armour, and he accoutred both himself and his horse.  And all the hosts went forth until they came to the side of the hedge, and the hedge was so lofty, that it reached as high as they could see in the air, and upon every stake in the hedge, except two, there was the head of a man, and the number of stakes throughout the hedge was very great.  Then said the Little King, “May no one go in with the chieftain?”  “No one may,” said Earl Owain.  “Which way can I enter?” enquired Geraint.  “I know not,” said Owain, “but enter by the way that thou wilt, and that seemeth easiest to thee.”

Then fearlessly and unhesitatingly Geraint dashed forward into the mist.  And on leaving the mist he came to a large orchard, and in the orchard he saw an open space, wherein was a tent of red satin, and the door of the tent was open, and an apple-tree stood in front of the door of the tent, and on a branch of the apple-tree hung a huge hunting horn.  Then he dismounted, and went into the tent, and there was no one in the tent save one maiden sitting in a golden chair, and another chair was opposite to her, empty.  And Geraint went to the empty chair, and sat down therein.  “Ah! chieftain,” said the maiden, “I would not counsel thee to sit in that chair.”  “Wherefore?” said Geraint.  “The man to whom that chair belongs has never suffered another to sit in it.”  “I care not,” said Geraint, “though it displease him that I sit in the chair.”  And thereupon p. 61they heard a mighty tumult around the tent.  And Geraint looked to see what was the cause of the tumult.  And he beheld without a knight mounted upon a war-horse, proudly-snorting, high-mettled, and large of bone, and a robe of honour in two parts was upon him and upon his horse, and beneath it was plenty of armour.  “Tell me, chieftain,” said he to Geraint, “who it was that bade thee sit there?”  “Myself,” answered he.  “It was wrong of thee to do me this shame and disgrace.  Arise, and do me satisfaction for thine insolence.”  Then Geraint arose, and they encountered immediately, and they broke a set of lances; and a second set; and a third; and they gave each other fierce and frequent strokes; and at last Geraint became enraged, and he urged on his horse, and rushed upon him, and gave him a thrust on the centre of his shield, so that it was split, and so that the head of his lance went through his armour, and his girths were broken, and he himself was borne headlong to the ground the length of Geraint’s lance and arm, over his horse’s crupper.  “Oh, my Lord!” said he, “thy mercy, and thou shalt have what thou wilt.”  “I only desire,” said Geraint, “that this game shall no longer exist here, nor the hedge of mist, nor magic, nor enchantment.”  “Thou shalt have this gladly, Lord,” he replied.  “Cause then the mist to disappear from this place,” said Geraint.  “Sound yonder horn,” said he, “and when thou soundest it, the mist will vanish; but it will not go hence unless the horn be blown by the knight by whom I am vanquished.”  And sad and sorrowful was Enid where she remained, through anxiety concerning Geraint.  Then Geraint went and sounded the horn.  And at the first blast he gave, the mist vanished.  And all the hosts came together, p. 62and they all became reconciled to each other.  And the Earl invited Geraint and the Little King to stay with him that night.  And the next morning they separated.  And Geraint went towards his own dominions; and thenceforth he reigned prosperously, and his warlike fame and splendour lasted with renown and honour both to him and to Enid from that time forward.

p. 63KILHWCH AND OLWEN
OR THE
TWRCH TRWYTH

Kilydd, the son of Prince Kelyddon desired a wife as a helpmate, and the wife that he chose was Goleuddydd, the daughter of Prince Anlawdd.  And after their union the people put up prayers that they might have an heir.  And they had a son through the prayers of the people.  From the time of her pregnancy Goleuddydd became wild, and wandered about, without habitation; but when her delivery was at hand, her reason came back to her.  Then she p. 64went to a mountain where there was a swineherd, keeping a herd of swine.  And through fear of the swine the queen was delivered.  And the swineherd took the boy, and brought him to the palace; and he was christened, and they called him Kilhwch, because he had been found in a swine’s burrow.  Nevertheless the boy was of gentle lineage, and cousin unto Arthur; and they put him out to nurse.

After this the boy’s mother, Goleuddydd, the daughter of Prince Anlawdd, fell sick.  Then she called her husband unto her, and said to him, “Of this sickness I shall die, and thou wilt take another wife.  Now wives are the gift of the Lord, but it would be wrong for thee to harm thy son.  Therefore I charge thee that thou take not a wife until thou see a briar with two blossoms upon my grave.”  And this he promised her.  Then she besought him to dress her grave every year, that nothing might grow thereon. [64]  So the queen died.  Now the king sent an attendant every morning to see if anything were growing upon the grave.  And at the end of the seventh year the master neglected that which he had promised to the queen.

One day the king went to hunt, and he rode to the place of burial, to see the grave, and to know if it were time that he should take a wife; and the king saw the briar.  And when he saw it, the king took counsel where he should find a wife.  Said one of his counsellors, “I know a wife that will suit thee well, and she is the wife of King Doged.”  And they resolved to go to seek her; and they slew the king, p. 65and brought away his wife and one daughter that she had along with her.  And they conquered the king’s lands.

On a certain day as the lady walked abroad, she came to the house of an old crone that dwelt in the town, and that had no tooth in her head.  And the queen said to her, “Old woman, tell me that which I shall ask thee, for the love of Heaven.  Where are the children of the man who has carried me away by violence?”  Said the crone, “He has not children.”  Said the queen, “Woe is me, that I should have come to one who is childless!”  Then said the hag, “Thou needest not lament on account of that, for there is a prediction that he shall have an heir by thee, and by none other.  Moreover, be not sorrowful, for he has one son.”

The lady returned home with joy, and she asked her consort, “Wherefore hast thou concealed thy children from me?”  The king said, “I will do so no longer.”  And he sent messengers for his son, and he was brought to the Court.  His stepmother said unto him, “It were well for thee to have a wife, and I have a daughter who is sought of every