Chapter Six: the Raven boy.
Just apologising here for my horrible Welsh. I've taken it from a dictionary so it is very badly translated and grammatically, well. To put it plainly- it sucks! I apologise to anyone who speaks or is Welsh as I'm sure you are wincing a lot. By the way, if any of my readers do know Welsh and spot any mistakes (and I'm sure there are loads) please do email me at dianahunters@yahoo.co.uk and let me know. They will be corrected as soon as possible. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers, please do continue to review me!
Merry Christmas and have a great new year!!!!
They soon arrived at John's small cottage at the end of the road leading up to Will's uncle's farm.
"Well boy bach. You best head up to the house now." Will nodded and bade the Drews goodbye.
John showed them into the cottage; Jane was given a small cosy room with a small bed, upon which was a knitted quilt, an oak dresser and a cupboard. She placed her bag on the bed and steadily began to unpack her clothes and other belongings. When she had finished and thoroughly explored her little room, she walked out onto the small, carpeted landing. John had told them that he only used the downstairs part of the cottage and the three rooms upstairs, her room, her brothers and one other, a room that had always been locked, had been there from the previous owners of the house. She walked along the landing, passing by the locked door giving it only a passing glance and entered the boys' bedroom. It was not much larger than her own; Simon was going through his suitcase on his bed and Barney was flicking through a well-thumbed copy of Arthurian legends, looking for any stories that might help them in this quest they were currently embroiled in. He was seated on an old, grey camp bed that creaked every time he moved. His case lay at the foot of his bed, open but still neatly packed. Jane settled on the bed next to Simon and absentmindedly picked up an old brown covered leather book, his diary. Swiftly he snatched it back from her and hastily stuffed it into a drawer. She drew her legs up to her chest and hugged them.
"What do you think is going to happen this time?" She asked to the whole room, not really expecting an answer. Barney pushed the hair out of his eyes,
"Will and Bran will do a strange mystical thing which we won't understand, while we help in some way we don't expect. And just when we've given up hope completely Merriman will show up."
Jane laughed out loud and even Simon chuckled. Barney had just summed up their last two adventures. Except Bran hadn't been wit them in Tresswick, that had only been the three Drews, Will and Merriman on the quest for the lost parchment with the code to the writing on the grail. And that rhyme had led them to the Welsh hills and Will with Bran to go to the Lost Land.
The three talked easily about anything that came to mind. However, the conversation kept turning back to the quest as they all thought over the prophetical rhymes, which were written so clearly in each of their minds, and some with parts that had yet to be fulfilled. Eventually, speech trailed away and they sat in silence, each thinking of something different.
Meanwhile, a very different meeting and reunion was taking place, not of family but of those grown as close as brothers through great dangers and hardship, and that of both with a sacred task, both not completely mortal, unlike the Drews. For Bran was the Pendragon and he did not know yet that, whilst he would not truly grow old, his adopted family and friends would. Will was a true immortal in one sense, he would live forever, but he had not lived since the dawn of time. He was only fifteen years old, the same age as Bran and Jane Drew. Simon was sixteen, while Barney was only twelve but mature for his age.
Will, after greeting his Aunt Jen and Uncle, ran over to Owen Davies' small home, he had missed Bran up at the big house by a matter of scant minutes. The soft notes of a harp, well tuned, rang out in the cool autumnal air. Mr Davies opened the door at his knock, and greeted him. He too had been caught up in the web of magic and mystery last year, for he had sheltered Bran, son of the high King Arthur and his Queen Guinevere, who along with Bran had been brought out of her time into this one, by a master of the Light; Merriman. Bran had grown up ignorant to his heritage, until his journey, alongside Will to the Lost Land where he had reclaimed the sword made for his father by the King of that land.
Will greeted Davies, but the man waved away his words and said simply,
"He's upstairs." Will nodded, understanding that his return meant two things to the older man, the memory of his time with Gwen, whom, he had loved deeply whilst she had stayed with him. Also hope that Will might help him see his Gwen again. Then a new expression crossed his face, that of understanding and acceptance.
Will slipped through the doorway as Davies left, muttering something about sheep and John Rowlands. Will ran up the small, narrow stairway until he reached the room where Bran slept. He pushed the door wide open with the flat of his hand. His friend sat on a low stall, slowly running his fingers over the delicate strings of a carved harp. He was wearing his customary dark glasses, hiding his tawny eyes from view. Placing his hand on the harp gently, he stilled the strings. In one smooth movement he took of his protective glasses.
"You took your time to come back ceidwad."
Okay, now click on the little button below and go review me. Pleeaase?????? You'll get a reply if you do, providing you give your email address… Anyway 'ceidwad' means 'watcher' in Welsh. More apologies here for my massacre of the language…