Post by megli on May 21, 2008 14:53:32 GMT -1
| AMAETHON, SON OF DÔN |
Amaethon son of Dôn was lord over the seven cantrefs of Dyfed, and Gwydion son of Dôn his brother was lord over Gwynedd. And those cantrefs were the ones which Gwydion gave to him, after the death of Pryderi son of Pwyll, as we heard above.
And at that time, Math the Old, son of Mathonwy, was dead, and so was Goewin his queen also, and they had reached a great age. And a grave was fashioned for them, and they were interred in a cleft of the rocks above Caer Dathl, where the wind used to whistle unceasingly. And after that, Gwydion was lord over Gwynedd, and he did not visit their grave, because he did not like to see his uncle and a man of magic and enchantment dead and under the earth. And that grave was one of the Three Unvisited Graves.
And once upon a time, Gwydion was upon a circuit of his dominion and his lands, and he came as far as Ceunant, where there was a court of his. And the hall and the chambers had been readied thereat in anticipation, and he went to wash. And he sought the tables, he and his household retinue, and he spent that night in food and drink and songs and carousal.
And the next day, lo, the nobles of the country came that morning before Gwydion, and they were sorely grieved. ‘Good day to you, lord’, said they. ‘May God grant you good’, said Gwydion, ‘and do you have tidings?’ ‘Lord’, said they, ‘we have evil tidings. There is a plague and an oppression upon us and upon your dominions here, and do not ask of us how that may be remedied, for we do not know, and we are at the end of our hopes through fear and bewilderment.’ ‘Ah, nobles’, said he, ‘what plague is that?’ ‘A plague of hounds, lord’, said they, ‘and a nightly descent of mist, and hounds are heard barking in that mist over your dominions here, and in the morning all the animals of our steadings are found wretched with trembling. And our orchards and our wheat which was growing the best in the world are trampled and broken, as though great, mighty winds had blown through them. And scarcely will you find a sound horse or cow or bull in the land, and you will see hardly an orchard or a croft which will bring forth fruit this year.’
‘Nobles’, said Gwydion, ‘I myself do not know what manner of thing this may be, except that this night I shall find it out, and between me and God, I will put an end to it.’ ‘Aye, lord’, said they, ‘and may God repay you with good.’ ‘And let messengers go to Amaethon son of Dôn, my brother, as far as Ceredigion, and ask of him what he might know concerning that, whether good or ill. And ask him to come to me in Gwynedd.’ And the messengers who went were Bychfran, son of Barllym, and Huan the Tall, son of Gwrion.
And Gwydion himself rose up thereat, and started out that afternoon in the old age of the day, and he came to Dolwyddelan, another court of his. As as night was coming on, he left the court by himself, and he went into his arts and began to show his magic. And this is what Gwydion did, enchanted himself into the guise of an old raggedy man wearing heavy rags, and he transformed his horse into the shape of a large, speckled pig. And thereupon, he began to drive the pig ahead of him under the trees with his staff, seeking mast on which to feed it. And with that, behold! A descent of mist and a strange silence along with that. And lo, a great wind rising up and stripping the leaves from the trees, and Gwydion heard the baying of hounds and the sounding of a hunting horn. And he could not tell if those were above the trees or under the earth, and they were coming to meet him, and his pig ran away through terror. And there was not a single leaf on the trees that the wind did not carry off.
And this is what Gwydion did then, stood and waited. And thereupon, lo, a pack of hounds running beneath the trees and a horseman coming behind the pack upon a light-bay horse, wearing hunting garb. And the colour that was upon the hounds was a clear, shining white, and they had red ears. And then Gwydion knows who is hunting upon his dominions and his lands, and terrifying nobles and villeins and animals, and that it is to insult him that that hunting is being done.
And the horseman saw him then. ‘By my confession to God, man’, said he, ‘who are you to stand boldly before a lord and his hounds!? You are a brave man or a foolish one.’ ‘Your pardon, lord, and good day to you’, said he. ‘And how did you come here?’, said the horseman then. ‘Lord’, said he, ‘I am a poor man, and my pig has run away through terror of your hounds, and I possess nothing in the world.’ ‘Man’, said he, ‘since you stand before me thus, you may be of service to me.’ ‘And what do you desire from me, lord?’, said he. ‘I will send you as a messenger’, said he, ‘to you lord, Gwydion son of Dôn, where he is in Caer Dathl. It is Arawn, king of Annwn who is hunting in these dominions, and he will recognise the name.’ ‘Aye, lord’, said he, ‘and for what reason shall I say that this hunting is being done?’ ‘To avenge the shameful death which was wrought upon Pryderi’, said he, ‘because of the friendship which was between me myself and Pwyll his father.’ ‘Happily, lord’, said Gywdion, ‘and I will be on my way as quickly as I can.’
And he sought Caer Dathl. And that night Gwydion took the enchantment from himself and restored his own form, and he took thought for a long time. And the next day, the messengers returned from Amaethon son of Dôn to Gwydion in Caer Dathl. ‘Aye’, said Gwydion, ‘what are the tidings which you have?’ ‘Lord’, said they, ‘your brother greets you, and sends assurance of his faithfulness and his great friendship, on account of the seven cantrefs which you bestowed upon him.’ ‘Faith’, said he, ‘does my brother know what affliction has befallen Gwynedd?’ ‘Aye’, said they, ‘he knows it, but he will not come to you. Even now he is sowing his rye, and he will not leaves his land and earth and flocks; and nevertheless your going to his court would please him, and he may be able to give you counsel and advice.’ ‘I myself shall go to the South’, said Gwydion, ‘and ready my horse.’
He went, and three servants together with him, as far as Ceredigion, and there he came upon Amaethon his brother, in a court of his. And Amaethon welcomed him, and that night he placed him by his side in the upper part of the hall.
‘Aye, lord brother’, said Amaethon, ‘welcome to you, and I am pleased to see my brother, my mother’s son, here. And I have heard tell of the evil which is upon you and upon your dominions.’ ‘Aye’, said Gwydion, ‘and thus you recognise the man who is wreaking that despoiling.’ ‘I know him. And will you take counsel?’ ‘Lord brother’, said he, ‘I will take it.’ ‘Lord’, he said, ‘there is no counsel for you save to steal from Arawn that which he may not live without.’ ‘And what thing is that, friend?’ said Gwydion. ‘Do you not recall the three animals which Arawn concealed in a pen of hurdles before his court in Annwn?’, said he. ‘That is, the roebuck, the whelp, and the plover, and they are precious in his eyes, and without them his kingdom cannot not last.’ ‘Aye friend, I know them’, he said, ‘and you know my power to conduct us as far as his court in Annwn, and this by dint of magic and enchantment and without anyone getting a glimpse of us.’ ‘Faith’, said Amaethon, ‘truly you have spoken. For you always were the better in the matter of changing the shapes of things by magic. But there is that which I may do which you may not, and the best which I can do, for you I will do it.’ ‘God repay you, friend’, said he. ‘And Arawn has placed a name upon the pen in Annwn’, said Amaethon, ‘and no man knows that name unless it be Arawn himself, and unless it be known, no one may open the wattle-gate which is upon the pen. And what is your counsel concerning that, lord?’. Lo, Gwydion laughed. ‘Shame upon me’, said he, ‘if I do not guess the name.’ And thus in counsel and conversation they spent that night, and when the time came for them to go to be, to bed they went.
And the next day, they tarried until the night came. ‘Lord brother’, said Amaethon, ‘we are certain Arawn king of Annwn will be away plaguing your dominions even now, and his kingdom will be empty and without a watch upon it. All his squires and servants will be in the court readying a feast.’ ‘Aye’, said Gwydion, ‘and this he will never expect, that we should creep into his own domain.’ And they came as far as Glynn Dulas, and that night they made a start towards Arawn’s dominions. And of all the nights they had ever seen, they had never seen a night black nor longer than that, and they could hear nothing except the waters rushing through the valley.
And after they had been walking for a good part of the night, Amaethon halted and looked keenly at the trees. ‘Ha, lord brother’, said he, ‘I saw this tree a short while ago. And to God I give my confession, until now we have wandered in circles.’ ‘Faith’, said Gwydion, ‘by the right path have we come this night, and we must proceed along the stream-bank, and by that track we shall come to his kingdom.’ ‘Go in front if that is what you wish’, said Amaethon, ‘and I will come after you.’
They attempted to press onwards, and they followed the stream-bank until they grew weary and sat down to rest. ‘It avails us nothing to proceed further like this’, said Amaethon, ‘I am certain that we have come in a circle. And look yonder – the same tree that we saw earlier.’ ‘Between me and God’, said Gwydion, ‘there some magic ruse here. And the king of Annwn has placed a spell of bewilderment upon this place, and we are contained within it, and the door into his domain is under a concealment.’ ‘And what is your counsel concerning that, lord brother?’, said Amaethon. ‘There is no spell except upon our eyes. And tear strips off your mantle for us, so that we may bind our eyes with those, and in that fashion will we proceed.’
And Amaethon tore strips off his mantle then, and they went ahead with those strips across their eyes, touching the trees beside them with their sticks, and the ground in front of their feet, so that they would not fall headlong into the waters. And although they went slowly, even so, it was no great time like that that they were until Gwydion restrains his brother. ‘Behold’, he said, ‘we are drawing close. Now we may hear the stream on the other side of us, though we have not gone across it. And that is the sign.’ ‘Aye’, said Amaethon, ‘but, however, we cannot go into Annwn like this, unconcealed and openly. And let us go into our arts, and go on ahead in the guise of two sturdy deer.’ ‘Between me and God’, said Gwydion, ‘of all the animals which are in the world, I for my part will not go with the form on those ones upon me. You be in the shape of the animal which you should desire; I will put the appearance of Arawn himself upon me, and we will go like that.’ And that they did.
And with that, they pushed on ahead and came swiftly under the trees, until they came into the kingdom of Annwn, and the court there, and they did not see anyone and no one saw them. And they sought the pen and they saw the white roebuck and the bitch and the plover which were in it. And Gwydion placed their own forms and appearances upon them then, and he took the briar and the ivy which were growing hard by the pen, and he tied loops and knots, and he fashioned a golden cage from them, and two silver leashes also. And lo, Amaethon placed a spell upon those three animals, so that they would become quiet and docile. And the animals grew quiet at that. ‘Ha, friend’, said he, ‘how will we open this pen? Do you know the name which is the lock upon it?’ And this is what Gwydion did then, looked a sly look at his brother, and he took his magic wand, and then he sang an englyn: -
Unwisely did Arawn fashion you beneath the world -
‘Achren’ is the name which is upon you!
Perfect is my art in the land of Annwn.
And the wattle-gate broke with a great commotion along with that. And the roebuck and the bitch were taken and leashed, and Gwydion himself grabbed the plover by its neck, and placed it in the cage which he had fashioned. ‘Friend’, said Amaethon, ‘truly we must needs retreat the soonest we may.’ ‘Aye’, said he, ‘they will follow on our tail, and woe to the thief who lets himself been seen.’ (And then was the first time that was said, and still it is used as a proverb.) And as soon as he said that, lo, the horsemen and the war-band of the court rising up because of the great clamour which they had heard. ‘Since you have said that, lord brother’, said Amaethon, ‘let us make for Dyfed, the sooner the better.’
And that day they pushed on swiftly until they came to Garth Grugyn. ‘We have not come far enough, lord brother’, said Amaethon, ‘the mustering of the lands of Annwn will even now be following us. We cannot remain here.’ ‘Aye’, said Gwydion for his part, ‘but the hosts of Annwn will not come into Dyfed without their lord, and Arawn king of Annwn has been hunting over Gwynedd tonight. We may tarry here awhile.’ And there they spent that night. And when they saw the dawn the following day they pushed on thence, and they came over Elenid, as far as Ardd Edrywy, and there they were that night. And there were neither branches or stones there from which they might fashion a pen, and the hill was bare and barren. ‘This place is not good’, said Gwydion then, ‘and they will see us from afar on this height if we kindle a fire.’ ‘Ha, brother’, said Amaethon, ‘we will stay here tonight. Such animals as these cannot go further, since they are not accustomed to that.’
And Amaethon for his part tied the leashes of the bitch and the roebuck to a spiny blackthorn which grew there. And the plover ruffled its feathers, and all through the night it cried small, high cries continually, so that they could not sleep because of that. ‘Brother’, said Gwydion, ‘I can neither sleep nor rest like this, and if Arawn heads this crying, he will come upon us, and all this will be lost – us and all three of these animals.’ ‘Aye, friend’, said he, ‘I will bring it about that that creature falls silent.’ And he took the plover out of its cage between his hands, and placed it in the fold of his mantle, and sang to it. And it slept then, and because of that that place is called ‘Rhosylfynir’, Curlew-heath.
And the next day, they made for Mur Castell in the uplands of Ardudwy, to the place where Lleu Llaw Gyffes was, their nephew, the son of their sister. And they came to the court, and Lleu greeted them, and made them welcome.
‘Good day to you, lords’, said he, ‘and God’s welcome to you. And for what reason have you come, my noble uncles, with two animals with leashes of silver upon them, and a single bird in a golden cage?’ ‘God give you good’, said Gwydion, ‘and we have come from the south, and we have brought these animals from the king of Annwn. And the chieftain who owns these three animals is coming, and there is a mustering behind us.’ ‘Alas’, said Lleu, ‘what evil tidings are here? No one has ever come on a worse expedition that you have come upon here.’ ‘I went to seek my compensation from the king of Annwn, and I have taken the animals which you see here as my compensation from him. And here there is only a bitch and a roebuck and a lapwing, and even though all the animals and the orchards and the crofts of my dominions have been laid waste by him, between me and God, I have not wrought dishonour upon him to the full value of those.’ ‘Aye, lords’, said Lleu, ‘and let us take counsel about footsoldiers and arms, since we will not win through by dint of talking’.
And immediately they went into a council, and this is the counsel that was obtained, to muster the cantrefs of Gwynedd and Ardudwy and to summon what there was of armed men and horses. ‘What has been done cannot be put right now’, said Lleu, ‘and it will not be enough to return the animals to him. And we needs must choose and plan how we may defend our lands and dominions from him, and that we may not easily do.’ ‘And what place may will we make for in your dominions for the mustering’, said Gwydion, ‘and to await the king of Annwn and his host?’ ‘He will come from the south’, said Lleu, ‘he and his finest men and his hosts. And let us go therefore up to a stronghold which is yours in the uplands.’
And this is what they decided upon in that council, Caer Nefenhir in Eifionydd. And that stronghold was among nine sharp peaks, and for that reason the name ‘Nine Teeth’ was given to it.
And they neared Caer Nefenhir, and armed themselves. And lo, the mustering in Gwynedd, and with that came the war-bands and the hosts, and they could see the nobles and the fighting men, and the fine, heroic pennants of brocaded silk which they had. And Cadwll Ironfist and Cernyll Fine-glove brough them, and Taliesin chief of poets came with them, and Afaon son of Taliesin, and they reached the fortress that night, and Gwydion went to muster them. And in the meantime, messengers come, and they have tidings that the host of Annwn and their king are near at hand.
And the next day in the grey morning, Lleu Llaw Gyffes armed himself and stood on the ramparts of the fortress, and Taliesin came to stand along with him, and they looked upon the great number of the men of battle of Annwn massing below, and upon their tents and their pavilions.
‘Good day to you, lord’, said Taliesin. ‘God give you good’, said Lleu, ‘despite what we shall see today of grief and blood. And have you ever seen hosts of such a size as this?’ ‘I have, lord’, said he, ‘in Ireland, when Bendigeidfran was slain. And I was one of the seven men who returned from Ireland.’ ‘And have you seen before the hosts of the king of Annwn, and his nobles?’, said he. ‘I have, lord’, said he, ‘and once I sang in his court in Annwn, before him and his queen and his nobles. And of what I have ever seen of the courts of the earth, that one was the fairest and the most adorned, and the most difficult to escape from.’ ‘Faith’, said Lleu, ‘because of that, you may relate to me the names of the nobles whom I see among the host yonder.’ ‘Gladly, lord’, said he, ‘as many as I know, I will relate them to you.’ ‘Aye’, said Lleu, ‘and who is the tall, auburn-haired man yonder in the forefront, keeping a good way ahead? There is a seemly, blue-green mantle upon him as fighting-garb, and three pale lads behind him, and the lads have his glittering weapons.’
‘I know who he is’, said he, ‘That is Middir the Proud, and he is one of Arawn’s chief nobles, and the earl in his court. And he has come from Annwn with three hundred and seventy men.’
‘And who are the two very savage champions yonder’, said he, ‘with speckled mantles upon them, and sharp swords in their hands, and black horses beneath them and silver bridles upon the horses?’
‘I know who they are, lord’, said Taliesin. ‘They are Gorllym Bone-cheek and Gorlew Talon-hand, the sons of Aeron; and of her twenty-three sons, none survive save those. And when she gave birth to a son, she would leave him on the mountain through the night, and if they came through that with their lives, she considered them strong enough.’
‘And who are the three men yonder’, said Lleu, ‘who are outstripping the men around them, and very black, very long hair upon them, and ruddy mantles about them, and an iron flail in the fist of each one.’
‘I know them, lord’, said Taliesin. ‘and this is who they are – Duach the Assiduous, son of Gwawrddur, and Nerthach son of Gwawrddur, and Brathach son of Gwawrddur. And they have come from the uplands of Annwn.’
‘And who is that fair host yonder, around a curly-headed youth upon a lively horse, with two whetted spears in his hand, and he has a mantle that shines like the dew; and the hair of that youth is as yellow as gold.’
‘I know them, lord’, said he, ‘and they are the retinue of Unwst Swan-mantle, Arawn’s cousin; and behold Unwst Swan-mantle himself in their midst, and he has brought eighty brave fighting men from Annwn.’
‘And who is the tall man upon a great bay horse yonder, and a host of nobles around him, and a gold-hilted sword on his thigh, and he has a javelin of silver, and a green mantle about him, and twining golden images of animals in the mantle?’ ‘I know him, lord’, said Taliesin, ‘and that is Arawn himself, and he is drawing up his men of battle and his fighters. And he has mustered all the bold horsemen and nobles and footsoldiers and weapons which are in his kingdom.’
‘He has the lordly appearance of a king’, said Lleu. ‘And what is the name of the man of monstrous size behind him, who has a great sword, and the shoulder of that man is higher than the heads of the other horsemen, though he goes on foot?’
‘I know him not, lord’, said he, ‘he has hidden his face. I have heard tell of a very great warrior amongst the horsemen in the hosts of Annwn, and unless his name be know, he cannot be overcome.’ ‘I have heard it also’, said Lleu.
And after that, they armed themselves, and lo, they heard the horns, and then Arawn went against them, and a slaughter of immeasurable size was there. And the men of Gwynedd were forced to retreat as far as the fortress.
And messengers were sent from Arawn to demand the three animals (and those were inside a pen which had been made for them in Caer Nefenhir). ‘And he will take those’, said the messengers, ‘and the thief Gwydion son of Dôn together with them. And there is in his armies the warrior whose name you know not, and without that name, we may not be overcome, and after that fashion will Arawn king of Annwn make his truce.’ ‘He will not, between me and God’, said Gwydion, ‘and tell your lord that there is a warrior in our hosts also who has the same peculiarity, and unless your lord knows his name, we will be the ones who win through.’
And for three days they continued the battle, until the blood was running from the sods. And Lleu Llaw Gyffes was struck there, and it was no use to them to conceal that happening. And nevertheless, the one side might not overcome the other.
‘O almighty son of God!’, said Gwydion then, ‘it were high time for us to get new footsoldiers at once, since Arawn is the stronger, and to God I bear my confession, I do not wish the men of Gwynedd to receive further deadly hurt on our account.’ ‘Call upon God as much as you will’, said his brother, ‘there is a place in which you may obtain the makings of men of battle quickly enough, if you wish it.’ ‘and what makings are those?’, said he. ‘Namely’, said Amaethon, ‘to enchant the trees and the wood and the flowers of the earth, and cast a spell on them, and let them not go back into their positions until we have won through. And they may serve to protect our men from their enemies.’ ‘Aye, lord brother’, said he, ‘and there has never been a better man for good sense than you, and God repay you with good. And faith, those would not be footsoldiers easy to control.’ ‘You may force them’, said he.
And then he called to him the best twenty men of his hosts. ‘My trusty nobles’, said Gwydion, ‘go yonder under the trees which you see there. And draw your swords and cut the topmost part from every kind of tree which you may come across there, and return to us with those branches held higher than the heads of each one of you, in the manner of flags.’
And the twenty men arose and went under the trees and cut the tips from every tree which grew there. And they came back to Gwydion. And thereupon, he divided the branches between them, as many chieftains and noblemen as were in his hosts there, and they placed the branches on their shields, as Gwydion directed. And Gwydion went down the hill, to a place where no one might see him, and he took his magic wand and he faced the wood, and three times he struck the ground in front of his feet. And before he straightens up, he hears then the cries of the birds escaping hither and thither from every side. And behold! – every tree in the wood becoming a fully-armed man at that, oaks and birches and green hazels, and of what he has ever seen of ready fighters and men of battle, they were the wildest and the most stern-faced, and an angry, pitiless look upon them.
And he saw the huge host coming behind him, and the hosts readied themselves in anticipation of them. ‘Lord’, said they, ‘where are the fighting men whom you told us of?’ ‘Nobles’, said Gwydion, ‘be happier than you are. The trees are coming towards us in the guise of men, and they are angry. And raise up your tips and your branches so that they may see those, and as long as they see those signs, they will not set about you youselves.’
And then they attacked, and the killing was there, beneath the stronghold of Caer Nefenhir. And in that tumult, the trees did not veer by a foot, and they fought without leaving off, without speaking, without crying out. And they followed the shields of the men of Gwynedd, and they made an attack on the hosts of Annwn there. And a great slaughter was made, and a pile of corpses was made from every side, and many a man was trampled beneath the feet of those ones. And a great trembling came over the men of Arawn, from the moment they could see those men were breaking through the vanguard of their host.
And Gwydion for his part was amongst the trees, and he could not see the face of the strange warrior who could not be conquered if his name were not known. And lo, Gwydion stood up in his saddle, and took his magic wand, and he looked upon the host and the battalions, and he sang an englyn: -
Sure-hooved is the horse upon which I go;
I know the warrior’s face.
Unless I see wrongly,
It is I that know who that man is.
And behold, the warrior coming to the front of the hosts, and in the meantime Gwydion perceived his face from close by, and he sang another englyn then -
Sure-hooved is your horse beneath the spur,
A green sprig of alder is upon your shield;
Bran are you called, from your fair branch.
And still the uproar of battle hid his face, and Gwydion sang another englyn to him then -
Sure-hooved is my horse in the day of battle,
The topmost tips of alder are upon your hand;
O Bran, because of the branch that is on you,
Amaethon the Good has prevailed.
And then the chief-warrior gave a horrible cry, and from that moment the hosts of Annwn did not attack, and their advantage had ended, and they sought out where they might return to their country. They had lost a great number of their best men, and they started out for the clefts and the caves of that land, and Arawn did not go before them. And because of that, as many of the trees as returned to their positions took root then, and they are there still. But a number of them did not go back, and those ones made their way as far as England, and men and women were afraid of them because they lacked the ability to speak. And thereupon they slept with the women there by force, and the children who were born from those women possessed only broken speech.
And thus did Gwydion son of Dôn and Amaethon son of Dôn prevail, and Amaethon for his part kept the roebuck and the whelp and the plover which had been brought from Annwn, because of the hidden name which had been upon Bran in that battle. And messengers came to Gwydion from Arawn. ‘Aye’, said Gwydion, ‘what is your wish? Indeed your lord’s downfall is completed.’
‘Faith’, said they, ‘our lord promises that there will not be vengeance upon you from now on. And he desires to know who is the man in your hosts whose name was hidden.’ And Gwydion laughed then. ‘I will not begrudge him regarding that. And let him come himself if he desires to know who that may be.’
And those things were sent to him, and Arawn himself came before Gwydion. ‘It no longer matters to say it’, said Gwydion, ‘since it is a thing which will be unconcealed and clear to you afterwards. And it was not a man who is here, but a woman; and this is her name – Achren daughter of Colfennin, your own wife.’
And she was one of the Three Chief Warrior-Women in this island, and these were the others: - Buddug daughter of Prastwy, who laid waste to the whole of Rome when Julius Caesar stole Fflur daughter of Mygnach the Dwarf from Caswallawn son of Beli; and Mederei Great-knee, who mustered her war-bands and her hosts, after dressing herself in her father’s armour.
And meanwhile Achren came forward also, and there was not a spot of her that was not filled with loathing for him. ‘Ha, lord’, said she, ‘you can see what I have done for you. And strongly have I fought today, and we have battled hard, to judge by the blood in which we are up to our knees.’ ‘By my confession to God’, said Arawn, ‘you are a wicked woman. And had I known it, I should never have taken you as my wife. And why have you done this?’ ‘Oh God!’, said she, ‘you are a blind man if you do not know. Here I have come for the sake of causing you pain, and that in recompense for the insult and the disgrace which you did to me, that is, putting another man with your appearance and form upon him to sleep with me, in our chamber and in our bed, without me realising. And that’, said she, ‘was a disgrace, and to God I bear my confession, I have wrought shame upon you, and you I have disgraced ever after.’ ‘Faith’, said he then, ‘I shall divorce you, and from this moment on, it shall be in my eyes as though there were no such woman as you in the world. And you will get nothing at all of what might be mine, nor anything of the goods which were yours when I took you to wife.’ ‘I should not want them’, said she, ‘and there is nothing that could be more loathsome in my eyes than you and your dominions.’ And he turned then, and made his way towards his country, and ever after the hatred of Arawn king of Annwn grew towards Gwydion son of Dôn because of that. And there was so much anger and pitilessness in him that he did not spare Gwydion when his eyes were put out in Caer Goludd, as the lore of storytellers relates.
And they took themselves off until they came to Caer Dathl, Gwydion and Amaethon and Achren daughter of Colfennin together with them. And there was a feast readied for them there, and they sought the tables, and they sat thus – Amaethon on one side of Gwydion, and Achren on his other side, and pleasantness and conversation was between them all three that night. And after the first serving, Amaethon’s heart warmed towards Achren, since she was unaffected and beautiful. And she spoke of her perfect orchard which she had planted in Annwn, and of what he had heard of women’s talk, it was unlovely and without savour compared to her conversation. And that was strange in his eyes. ‘Lady’, said he, ‘I have land and earth, namely the seven cantrefs of Dyfed which Gwydion my brother gave to me, and there are no cantrefs in the south better than those. And will you consent to come there as my wife?’ ‘I will consent to that gladly’, said she. And at that feast, she was slept with, and they came to Dyfed, Amaethon and Achren, and there was great rejoicing among the nobles of the court at their arrival, seeing their lord taking a wife as good as she. And Gwydion for his part made for Caer Dathl after than, and there he dwelt.
And thus an end is made upon these branches of the Mabinogi, because of the Battle of the Trees, and that was one of the Three Futile Battles of the Island of Britain, when the roebuck and the whelp and the plover were brought from Annwn; and because of Arawn’s Plague, which spoiled the orchards and the animals in Gwynedd, so that no use could be made of then; and because of the Cold Vengeance of Achren upon her husband; and because of the Feast of Amaethon.
