The Travels of Owain Nine Fingers

By Stuart Donkin

Travelling north with King Arthur, Owain searches for news of his lost love Lunette. After defeating the Northern Tribes, Owain's journey takes him ever southwards with the wizard Merlin and Arthur's succesor, Mordred. On his travels, Owain encounters the magical creatures of Albion as well as old and new friends until finally he returns home to Avalon where a final confrontation awaits.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stuart Donkin
• Release date: Apr 26, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311369840

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THE TRAVELS OF OWAIN NINE FINGERS

BY STUART DONKIN

The Travels of Owain Nine Fingers

Published by Stuart Donkin at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Stuart Donkin

1st Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For George, my mate.

Happy birthday and look out for the chickens!

TABLE OF CONTENTS

01 – The Gwglii

02 – The Water Leaper

03 – The Kelpie

04 – The Puca and the Mountain Witch

05 – Afanc

06 – The Coblynau

07 – Ys

08 – The Gwiddonod

09 – Return to Ys

10 – The Aughisky

11 – Avalon

Epilogue – 20 Years Later

The Gwglii

When are we going to stop? Owain moaned at the back of the old man walking in front of him. It had been eight days since the battle at the hill fort in the north where Arthur had defeated the Northern Tribes and to Owain it seemed like the old man, Merlin had been trying to test his resolve ever since. Each day they had set off at the crack of dawn and continued their journey long into the night without respite, as if the old man was trying to see how far he could push his young companion before Owain finally snapped.

Without slowing his step or even looking back over his shoulder Merlin only seemed to confirm Owain’s suspicions as he called back you’re not getting tired are you young warrior? Even without being able to see the old man’s grinning face Owain knew a smile would be on Merlin’s lips as the old man continued, if you’re ever going to become a famous warlord like that fool you idolize, you’re going to need more stamina than you’ve shown over these last few days.

I know, you keep on telling me what I have to do to be more like Arthur but I’m tired Owain confessed, wincing at the weakness he could hear in his own voice. And I need to rest soon. I can’t go on much longer like this.

And neither can I, their companion uttered much to Owain’s relief. Mordred, Arthur’s long lost younger brother had been mysteriously placed into Merlin’s care the night before they had been set to leave Arthur’s army in the North and Owain had found himself grateful for company closer to his own age. Hearing the young boy echo his own feelings Owain smiled, knowing that although Merlin had treated him like a slave upon their journey to the Western Coast, the old man doted upon Mordred in a way Owain had never seen Merlin do with any other living soul. Not even Arthur.

Grabbing hold of the reins to Mordred’s horse Merlin brought their solitary beast to a halt and looked up at his young charge. Of course he smiled at the boy, if my memory serves me correctly and it has never failed me yet, there is a farmhouse in the next valley. We can stop there for the night before continuing our journey in the morning.

What if they don’t let us spend the night? Owain asked. What if they’re unsure of strangers and ask us to move on?

Looking affronted by Owain’s impertinence Merlin turned to glare scornfully at his young companion, don’t be stupid all of your life. Why wouldn’t the inhabitants of some meaningless small holding want the greatest storyteller these islands have ever known to spend a night underneath their roof? The mere fact I deign to grace their hearth in the cattle shed they no doubt call a home, is a tale to tell their grandchildren in itself.

But what if they haven’t heard of you? a mischievous Owain asked, only to be rewarded with a frown from the old man and a conspiratorial grin from Mordred.

Of course they will have heard of Merlin the great, you fool. The most magnificent bard in all of Albion. Not every village is as ignorant of the wider world as your dear old Avalon, Merlin growled as he stormed off down the rocky mountain track pulling Mordred’s unwilling horse behind him. Picking up the bags which he had dropped when they stopped Owain sighed as he wearily began to follow his companions, hoping desperately they would stumble upon the farmhouse before nightfall. Otherwise he knew the price for his taunting would undoubtedly be the setting up their campsite all by himself.

By the time he had finally caught up with his companions, Merlin and Mordred had already crossed into the next valley and as Owain came to stand beside them, his eyes were drawn to a gigantic paw print embedded in stone beside the track they were following. What is it? he asked as he peered over Merlin’s shoulder.

We must keep going. We have to reach the farm I told you about without delay, a clearly agitated Merlin replied. If we move quickly we should reach the safety of their walls by nightfall.

But what is it? Owain repeated as he stared at the strange outline in the stone before him.

I am not sure but I fear there may be a Gwglii in these hills Merlin answered, as he glanced nervously at the surrounding hills.

A Gwglii Owain laughed, but they’re just stories mothers tell their children to make sure they do what they tell them. There’s no such thing as the hound of darkness or the dog of death.

Do you really believe that rubbish? Merlin snapped as he stared at Owain from beneath his long grey eyebrows. Where do you think those mothers and old wives get their tales from in the first place? Here in the hills if you are stupid enough to go looking for them you will find monsters you believe are nothing more than the figment of some storyteller’s imagination. So let me warn you my young warrior, if we are still on the road once night falls then the nightmares you dreamt of once your mother had kissed you good night will soon seem like fairytales to you.

He speaks the truth Mordred added as he looked down at Owain. Have you not seen his magic? Once you would have thought the things you have seen Merlin accomplish nothing more than fairytales.

Confused Owain looked from Mordred to Merlin and realizing they both were deadly serious a chill of fear ran down his spine. Well what are we waiting for? Where did you say this farmhouse was? Owain asked as he grabbed hold of the reins to Mordred’s horse, deciding it might be a good idea if they reached the sanctuary of a farmhouse before the darkness of night engulfed them.

Pointing into the valley before them Merlin answered just past the woods near the edge of the lake, as long as the family who used to live there hasn’t been driven away by the beast. We should have plenty of time to spare if I don’t keep on getting disturbed by the inane questions of the simple minded. And without saying another word Merlin began to stride down into the valley below. Nervously Owain looked once more at the paw print embedded in the stone beside him and then leading Mordred he hastily followed Merlin.

An hour after they had discovered the paw print in the stone Owain was forced to admit, if only to himself, that the old man had been right as they arrived at a wooden fence marking the boundary of a small farm, nestled at the bottom of the valley before them. At a first glance the picture before him looked like any of the number of small farms which were scattered across the hills and valleys of the Western Lands, in fact it was almost identical to the one Owain had himself grown up on, except to his trained eye there was something different, not quite right about the scene before him. Where is everybody? he asked. Shouldn’t they be putting the cattle into the sheds for the night?

Or maybe they are inside feasting upon a delicious supper and not asking stupid questions Merlin growled in response. Just like I could be if I didn’t have to put up with you.

Merlin’s right Mordred agreed. I’m starving. We haven’t had anything decent to eat for days now, not since that tavern where they thought Merlin was a sorcerer. Let’s find out if they’ll allow us to pay for a meal and a bed for the night?

Feeling his stomach rumble at the thought of home cooked food Owain followed Merlin and Mordred as they crossed into the homestead. Like his companions he too was hungry and tired and as they approached the farmhouse his mind began to imagine the delights which could waiting inside for him but at the back of his mind Owain couldn’t quite get rid of the notion that something wasn’t quite right.

After tying Mordred’s horse to a post near the barn door, Owain joined his fellow travelers at the door to the farmhouse where Merlin had already begun to weave what the old man would describe as his magic but to Owain, who was used to Merlin’s act, seemed nothing more than frightening the farmer and his wife into letting the three of them stay for the night. Entering the house Owain smiled as he spotted the farmer’s wife by the side of the small fire at the back of the room, ladling what smelled like mutton stew into three wooden bowls, whilst beside them the farmer stood by the only table eying Merlin and his young ward apprehensively.

The mood changed little as Owain and his two companions wolfishly polished off the mutton stew in silence until finally with a satisfied grunt Merlin placed his wooden bowl on the table and smiled at the farmer’s wife. I must thank you good woman for what is undoubtedly the finest stew I have tasted in many a long year. We all appreciate your hospitality.

You said when you arrived the farmer began as he looked nervously at Merlin, you said you were a travelling bard. Isn’t it customary for a bard to pay for his meal with a performance?

Of course Merlin replied giving the farmer and his wife his most endearing smile, the one Owain had become accustomed to seeing when people began to talk to the old man about money. In fact I believe I know of just the tale to tell Merlin continued. I was reminded of it as we traversed the hills towards your happy home. Sitting down, his back leaning against the table, the old man took his battered old wooden pipe out of his robes and placing it in his mouth he nodded at Mordred who lit it with an ember from the fire. Finally comfortable, Merlin sighed deeply before fixing his audience with a steely gaze.

"The tale I am about to tell you begins many moons ago back near the start of time when Mother Earth still walked this green and pleasant land. Back then mankind were still just children playing at living and everything they saw was new and each day was just another adventure for them. Now Mother Earth loved mankind for we were and we are all her children and whatever mankind asked for Mother Earth would provide, except for one thing. We were not allowed to feast upon the flesh of another living being.

One day two brothers, whose names I am afraid have been forgotten in the mists of time, found themselves lost in unfamiliar hills not to dissimilar to the one we find ourselves in tonight. For four nights they searched the land for berries and nuts to eat but to no avail until as they began to fear they would die of starvation, the elder brother stumbled upon the remains of a hound which had perished in one of the storms I know you must know are so common in these hills. Starving and believing themselves unseen by Mother Earth, the brothers after much debate feasted upon the