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She came with a
band of ghosts one
night, late when the wind had taken the leaves from the trees and the
house was
locked against the dark and the fire was high in the old grate and a
feast was
on the table. The hounds of the dead ran round the walls and the grey
shape of
a horse's skull appeared in the dark through the leaden panes where no
curtains
hung against the night. And the night came in. A violent hand rapped on
the
door and a rhyme was spoken:
If
to match
this rhyme you fail
Let
us in for cakes and ale
The wind whistled and the dogs howled and the night was in the hearts
of
everyone in the room. And they knew they must reply. Then Gareth rose
from
tending the fire, strode across to the door, and said:
Until
the
hands of the clock are met
Your
power remains in Annwn;
Go
hence, other hearts to fret
Your
hounds have come too soon.
The wind whistled still, but now it was the only sound. Then there was
silence, followed by
smiles and sighs of relief in the old farmhouse high in the wild hill
country
where roads are few and houses fewer. But Gareth's face was grave.
"It’s
not yet over", he said, "they’ll return at midnight and
if we can’t match them rhyme for rhyme they’ll be in the house and
round the
table and the feast will be theirs". "But what...?" said Eleri,
her voice trembling between fascination and fear, "...what was that
horse-head shape in the window?"
"Hush child" said her mother, not wishing to speak of such things on
this night. But Gareth said, "If we are to keep this
house intact tonight we must all be aware of the powers we face."
He sat down in the fireside chair and was silent for a while, but the
others
knew he was thinking deeply. Meanwhile Rhiannon went to the fire, knelt
in
front of the flames, and spoke softly the blessings of the hearth and
prayed
that they would all be safe and well that night. When she had finished
she
beckoned the others to join her. They sat around the hearth and waited.
Gareth
spoke of the powers of the night and the revels of the dead, though
others said
they were never living. But whoever they were they came with a pack of
hounds
and many rhymes, and only a rhyme could keep them out. When they came,
so too
came the Mari - the Grey Mare of the Night - and only she can tell the
rhymes
to match them with. Then Rhiannon went to the shelf and took down a
book and
began to read the story of her namesake. There was a penance: that she
should carry on her back anyone who came to
her at the
horse block that stood outside the gate of her court and who required
carrying
into the grounds. Rhiannon put down the book and said "By she whose
name I
bear
and my place in this household I will go and make our peace with the
night".
She went upstairs and took off the dress she had worn for the feast and
every
other piece of clothing and ornament save only her necklace of things
gathered
over thirteen moons many years ago. She wrapped a black cloak around
her
nakedness, went downstairs and for the second time that night she knelt
in
front of the fire and asked a blessing of Bride at their
hearth. Then she turned to Gareth and they spoke a few words before
embracing.
After this she unbolted the door and went off into the night. Soon she
was wandering
through the grey mist and there came a shape that was greyer
still.
Rhiannon stopped and spoke to the shape, but the shape did not reply.
Then
Rhiannon discarded her black cloak, took off her necklace and held it
out to
the figure before her. The figure became clearer but glowed like an old
moon in
a watery sky: it was an ancient mare carrying an old woman in a black
shroud.
And the woman said "You did well to discard that cape my dear" and
Rhiannon recognised the cape as the shroud on the woman's back. "Now
won't
you give my mare a rest?" she sighed, stroking the ghostly grey head
beneath her. "Gladly" said Rhiannon, I will carry you wherever you
wish to go". Then the old woman came to her and embraced her and the
rain
rattled through the trees and the wind blew her tears away and the grey
mist
cleared and there was only darkness.
As Rhiannon wandered through the darkness, hopelessly lost, a line from
the
story she had read earlier that night ran through her head: "But it was
chance that they would permit themselves to be carried." As she
remembered
this the waning moon shone through a gap in the clouds and she
recognised a
copse of trees which stood near the farmhouse. Soon she could see the
warm
light of the fire and the lamps showing through the windows. She
arrived home
naked, wet and spattered with mud. The others looked troubled as she
came
through the door. But without pausing to warm herself or explain what
had
happened she put on a coat and led each of them out of the house, one
at a
time, and made them learn a verse with her while the wind sang around
their
ears. Gareth was wise in lore and learning and made his verse with
little help
but with the firm grip of Rhiannon's hand in his. But others had the
fear of
the night on them and had to be held long and close before the verse
came, and Eleri she held closest of all as she made the words she had
to say.
At last it was done and the door was locked and the fire built high and
all
were warm around the hearth. Bride was with them and inspired them and
the fire glowed more
warmly as midnight struck. Then came the knock on the door and the
chanting of
the rhymes and Gareth replied first as he had before. One by one their
names
were called by ghostly voices from the dark of the night and one by one
they said their rhymes in reply, until,
last of all, came the turn of Rhiannon. The voice in the night said:
Rhiannon
Williams come to the door
We
can hear the bottle's clink.
We
would enjoy you there on the floor
And
take your food and drink.
Rhiannon did not reply immediately but took from the folds of her dress
the
necklace that she had not put back around her neck since offering it to
the old
woman in the mist. The thirteen pieces remained as before but now they
were
strung on a length of fine green gossamer. She held this out before her
and
raised it above her head. Then she spoke this verse:
By
the power
of the waning Moon
I
command you to take flight,
In
the name of the Queen of Annwn
Go
now to the deep dark night.
And as she put the necklace around her neck once more the sound of
howling dogs
faded into the distance and even the wind was still.
The fire blazed up brightly as she returned to the hearth and gathered
everyone
about her for an embrace and they thanked Bride for her warmth and
light, for their firm grasp of the verses and
for the love they shared. Merry was the feast and snug the bed
throughout the
night though the cold wind blew outside through the bare trees and
there was a
hard winter ahead of them.
Greg
Hill
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