The Sacred Hearth

As the time went by the Nobles began to worry that Rhiannon had not yet produced an heir. They suspected that it was her fae blood that kept her from getting pregnant, for you see, she was a faerie woman. (Does that explain the horse?)

“My Lord,” They said to the King, “You are no longer young and we worry that you will die without an heir. We know that you love your wife, but you should consider taking another who will give you an heir.”

“But we haven’t been that long together.” Protested Pwyll, “Give us another year, and then I will think more on your council.”

They agreed to this. But as the year came to an end, Rhiannon had not yet conceived. He went to Arawn and he explained to him that he may have become infertile due to the time he spent in the Underworld. They were both greatly saddened by this, but Arawn suggested that another man lie with Rhiannon and Pwyll raise the child as his own. But when the suggestion was brought to Rhiannon she was appalled and refused. And so Arawn offered to use his magic to give someone to semblance of Pwyll, to trick Rhiannon. So it was decided that the High King Math Mathenwy would be suitable and so it was arranged.

When the year was up, Rhiannon was found to be with child and there was much rejoicing and soon a son was born to her. That night six women were brought in to watch over the mother and child. But the women slept, and the mother did too, because she was very tired. And late in the night one of them awoke and saw that the child was gone. She quickly woke the other five and showed them what had happened and they became afraid.

“Oh no. We will lose our heads for losing the child!” Said the youngest.

“No.” Said the oldest, “I have a plan.”

So they stole a small puppy that had recently been born and they killed it and put its blood on the hands and face of the Queen and left its bones by her bed.

When the Queen awoke she asked right away for her son, but the older woman replied, “Don’t ask us woman about your son, we have faught with you all night to save him from your own hunger. You know you have eaten him.”

Rhiannon was shocked, “Why do you accuse me of such a horrible thing!” She wailed forlorn and her husband, hearing her cry came to her side.

“I beg of you to tell the truth!” She said to them, “I will defend you. I won’t let them punish you if you just say whatever it is that really happened!”

“We speak the truth.” They insisted.

“What has happened?” Asked Pwyll in distress, taking in his wife’s ghastly appearance.

The story was explained to him and Rhiannon begged his mercy, and he had it for her, but the story spread quickly and before the morning meal was done, his Nobles had come to him urging him again to put her away if not put her to death.

“No.” He said to them, “She has born a child as you asked before and I will not put her away.”

“Then,” They said, “Let us bring a Druid to judge her.”

This he agreed to and the Druid came and questioned the women and questioned the Queen and finally he said, “A horrible crime you have done, having killed and eaten your own child and the heir of Dyfed. For seven years, you will stand each day outside this castle, and you will help the visitors down from their horses and carry them to the door upon your back, all the while telling them of your horrible crime.”

And so she went the very next morning to do as she was told, but no one would permit her to carry them.

At that time, and not too far away, there lived a man called Teirnon. Teirnon was a very good man, of the best sort. He had a mare of whom he was very proud, for she was the finest mare for miles around. On the night of the first of May every year the mare would foal, but the next morning, every year, the foal would be gone.

This night Teirnon decided that he would stay the night in the stable and see what became of the foal. He had nearly dozed off when he heard a noise outside. He stood up just as a great claw came in the window and seized the colt. Teirnon quickly drew his sword and cut off the claw at the wrist and there was a great cry as the creature fled. He hurried out the door to give chase and there he saw on the ground a small boy wrapped in swaddling cloths and a mantle of silk and crying heartily.

He picked up the child and quieted it, and then brought it into the house and woke his wife who had never been able to have a child of her own. She made a great fuss of him and from then on raised him as her own.

The boy grew quite fast, as his fae blood allowed him and by the time he was four he was bribing the grooms to let him ride the horses.

Teirnon’s wife asked him, “What has become of the foal that was born the same night as our son?”

“Why he is in the stables with the other horses.” She told him.

“Can we not have him broken and given to the boy?” She asked. He thought this was an excellent idea and went right to it.

One day a bard came to their house and they offered him shelter. While he was there he told them stories of happenings in Dyfed and the shameful burden that the Queen Rhiannon bore. They questioned him carefully and thought hard on the matter for a long time after he left.

Finally they came to discuss it, and the wife, who was a wise woman, said to Teirnon, “We have nothing to lose and only to gain by bringing the boy to his rightful parents. We will earn the thanks of Rhiannon and of Pwyll and surely they will let us foster him as we have done these past four years.”

And so Teirnon took the boy the very next day, along with his horse, to the Palace at Dyfed and as they drew near they saw Rhiannon sitting outside the gates waiting to greet them. And when they came up to her she said to them. “Halt good Lord, I will take your horses and carry you to the door upon my own back. This is my pennance for slaying my son and devouring him.”

“Fair Lady, I will not be the one to be carried on your back.” Said Teirnon.

“Nor I.” Said the boy.

So they walked on to the Palace and a feast was prepared for their arrival and as they ate they talked and Teirnon related the story of the mare and the boy and how his wife had reared the son of her own.

“And behold, here is your son Lady.” Said Teirnon. “And whoever told that lie has done you wrong. And when I heard your story I was very sad and came right away.”

And there was much rejoicing and Rhiannon said, “Ah, the child that was my grief has come back to me to end my grief, I name you Pryderi!”

“A fitting name!” Said Pwyll and so the boy got his name from his mother, as it should be.

Then he turned to Tiernon, “It is a lucky thing that it is you who found him, for you have brought him up well.”

“My lord,” said Tiernon, “It was my wife who reared him, and she was heartbroken to see him go.”

“I will have my brother Pendaran be foster-father to my son, as it was to be before he was born, but you shall also be foster-father to him and you shall be companions to one another.” Declared Pwyll.

And so Pryderi was raised and he was carefully trained and lived in comfort until Pwyll died and Rhiannon lived with him till her marriage to Mannanan. He became king and he took as his Queen Kicva, the daughter of one of the Nobles of the island.