I. HOW PRINCE PWYLL WENT TO ANNOON.
Somewhere or other there is a beautiful country called the Streamland, and in that country the mountains are always purple, and the hills are as green as hills may be. If you get out a big map of the world, and search it very carefully indeed, and then can't find it marked, you may be sure that the person who made that map has forgotten all about it, or has never been there to see. And it's often the way, children, that they don't mark the real nice places on the map.
Well, in the time of Prince Pwyll, it was a lovely place to live in, with the woods all full of birds the whole year round always singing, and the towns and the villages all full of people who were generally singing, too, and always happy. And, indeed, I shouldn't a bit wonder if they are always happy still, for I never heard that Prince Pwyll died. Only I do know that he changed his name after the story was told, and what he changed it to, I won't tell you, except that it is something which you yourselves will all be some day.
A wonderful land is the Streamland. for it is always full of music, and no one knows whether that music is made by the streams that come down from the mountains, or if it is the fairies that are singing, or whether it is the blooming of the flowers that puts it into the heart of the Wind to sing, or whether it is that the country is so near to the Stars that you could hear the Sky-bees buzzing their honey-song in the shining star-blossoms that grow all over the sky. But there it was, and I have heard somebody say that all the beautiful music that ever was comes from that country, and I dare say YOU will find it is quite true, too, when you go there.
Well, one day it came into Prince Pwyll's mind that he would go a-hunting. So the next morning when the hills and the valleys were cold with the dawn, there were the men of the court all mounted on their horses in front of the palace, and their hunting horns hanging at their saddles, and the dogs running about around them, and they all waiting for Pwyll to blow his great horn for the hunt to begin.
Then he did blow it, and oft they went, and all the morning they were riding on, over many a lonely mountain, and through many a green valley where the fields are all soaked and full of tumbling streamlets that went down to the little rivers that were singing on their way down to the sea; and over many a hillside covered with woods, and the ground in the woods all blue with the bluebells — until at last Prince Pwyll's horse had taken him far away beyond any of the others.
Every now and then he could sec a great stag running on before him. The swiftest stag in the whole world it must have been, for neither he nor his swift dogs could catch up with it. On and on he rode, not knowing that he was alone; all the morning, and all the afternoon he rode on, and only stopped when the trees were dim with the shadows, and a star or two out in the sky, and only a streak of red and gold and pale yellow in the west to show where die sun had set. And then there he was with his dogs by a wide, dim lake in a great valley, and the clear water lapping against the sand and the pebbles by his horse's feet, and a few birds flying and calling over the water where it was bright with the sunset, and it came into his mind that he had never seen that place before.
He lifted his great horn, and three loud blasts he blew on it, and between each he listened for the answering blasts that any of his men who might hear him would be sure to blow, but each time the sound went forth, and up the mountains, and the elves on the mountains heard it, and just shouted it back at him and not once could he hear the horns of his men. So there he was sitting en his horse's back, and not knowing what to do one bit.
Then as he sat there listening there came a strange sound which seemed to be the barking of dogs, and he wondered where in the world those dogs came from, for he had never heard any dog's barking like that (nor have you).
While he was wondering, he looked up the side of the mountain, and there he saw a great stag come dashing out of the woods a little way above where he was. As soon as he saw it, of course he called to his dogs, and they ran, and he rode after it as fast as they could. And while he was riding he could hear that strange barking above the barking of his own dogs. And once he heard the sound of a horn, only it wasn't a bit like the sound of any horn he had ever heard before.
Just as he had crossed two wide fields, and was coming up over the soft wet ground to the wood, and the stag only one field in front of him, he saw a pack of dogs coming out of the wood. Curious dogs they were, and it was they who had been making the strange barking. Their bodies were white and shining like clean snow with the sun on it, and their right ears were as red as their bodies were white.
Pwyll could not think whose dogs they could be, nor how they came to be hunting in his country. He was angry, too, that strange dogs should be after the stag he had been hunting all day. So as they were coming up to the stag just before his own dogs were, he called them back and told them to lie down, and sent his own dogs on instead. But just as they were about to catch the stag, he heard his name called, and coming out of the wood there seemed to be a cloud of light that was coming slowly toward him. As it drew nearer he saw that it was a man whom he thought was a great king. The man was sitting on a gray horse, gray clothes were on him, but it seemed as Pwyll looked at him, that purple light was shining through the grayness of them, if you had seen his two eyes, you would have said at once, "This man must be a kind of cousin of the Lotus Mother's," and I think you would have been quite right, too.
For, you know, children, the man that Pwyll saw was a very great king, indeed. He is one of those who were called the Wise Ones, and that is why he seemed at first to be a cloud of light. In those old days they used to call him Arawn, but he has got a lot of names besides that. I believe that the great Mother and Queen of the Fairies and Men is his sister, and that it is through his power she is able to reign over her children and to be always teaching them strong and wise things. But however that may be, I know that nothing can happen without King Arawn has something to say in the ordering of it, and that we could never get on without him one bit.
Well, when Prince Pwyll heard his name called, and turned round, and saw the gray-robed and purple and silvery shining king riding toward him between the dusk-dark mountain and the quiet lake, he called to him:
"What dogs are these with which you are hunting in my kingdom?"
"It is not I who would be hunting in your kingdom, Prince,"' said the king.
And then it came into Pwyll's mind that although he knew every hill and mountain and field and wood and lake and valley in his own Streamland, he had never seen those mountains, nor that lake before, and he wondered how he could have left his kingdom in one day's ride. Then he began to wonder which was the way home, but that he could not tell; and he could not even tell whether the Streamland was in front of him or behind him, or on his left or on his right hand. And then he looked at his dogs, that had left chasing the stag when King Arawn called, and they were running about here and there and smelling the ground and then running back, and he saw that they did not know the way home either. And a strange thing was that, for there were no better dogs in all the world than those dogs were.
All the while the King was riding slowly toward him, and watching him, and calling tiny fairies from somewhere and sending them to Pwvl,and they were whispering in his ears and telling him what he ought to do. Then King Arawn said:
"I am called Arawn, and a great king in this land of mine am I. You have ridden into my kingdom. It is called Annoon, and it is in the world below the world you left to-day. You have called my dogs away from the stag I was hunting. For this you will not be able to go back to your own kingdom at once, for no one who comes into Annoon may leave it without doing some service, and I could not show you the way to the Streamland now. But if you arc willing to have me for your dear friend, you must do what I shall ask you to do."
And then a great gladness was in Pwyll's heart, though he did not know why it was there, and he told him how glad he would be to have so great and noble a king for his close friend, and that he would with joy do whatever King Arawn wished. So the king; said:
"In Annoon there is a man named Havgan, who has made a kingdom for himself by gathering together silly and wicked people, and many times he has made war on me. You cannot go back to the Streamland till this man is killed, and no one is allowed to kill him but you, not even I myself. But before you can kill him, you will have to be as strong and wise as I am. You will have to wear my armour, and to be able to strike with my great sword. A blow from that sword there is no doctor who can heal. And to be able to do this, you will have to seem to be myself, and to reign in my kingdom for a year and a day without any one there knowing that you are not myself."
And all this Pwyll said he would gladly do, and as he said it, it seemed to him that the valley and the lake and the wood and the sky and the king were growing dimmer and dimmer all the time, and he thought that there were fairies dancing, at first slowly, around him; but as they danced they became quicker and drew nearer to him. and he could feel their cool breath on his face and in his hair as they went round, and it seemed to be drenched with a dew of sleep and dreams and through it and their quiet song he could hear the voice of King Arawn telling him that at the end of a year and a day he should fight with Havgan, and he heard him say: "Do nothing that he may ask you to do," and then he was fast asleep.
For those tall fairies came from the mountain beyond the lake when they knew that Arawn wished them to come, and began to do the work they are for doing. They are always in that valley. Some people call them the Sleep-Fairies, and some people call them the Birth-Fairies; but whether those names are the best for them, children dear, or whether by rights they ought to be called the Death-Fairies, I am not knowing. But they are all the subjects of the great wise King of Annoon, and they are always dancing their stately dances over the lake and in the valley on the borders of his kingdom. And I think that we all see them moving around us and feel their breath many times, many hundreds of times maybe, and shall, till the Story of All Stories is told, and the last of all Silent Moments is with us.
II. THE SLAYING OF HAVGAN.
Well, as soon as Pwyll was fast asleep, the king turned his horses, and called Pwyll's dogs and they went to him, and he rode off toward the Streamland, and the dogs after him, and there it is said that he reigned for a year and a day, and no one knew that he was not Pwyll. But if you had been in the valley that evening, it is a curious thing you would have seen. For as soon as Pwyll was asleep, and those strange fairies dancing around him, his face seemed to be changing, and his clothes, and the horse under him. Instead of the blue cloak he had been wearing, and the splendid saddle of his horse, and the rich, four-cornered saddle-cloth of purple velvet with an apple of gold at each corner, it was the gray cloak of the king that was on him, and the plain saddle under him, and he on a great gray horse such as the King of Annoon had been riding. And then his face changed, and became like Arawn's face, and no one would have known that it was the Prince of the Streamland he was, and not the King of Annoon, which, as you know, is in the world below the world Prince Pwyll came from. Only there was no purple shining around him at that time.
Well, when those fairies had finished their work, they all went away, and Pwyll woke up. And there he was on his horse, and the last of the sunset light gone out of the west, and the moon pale on the lake and in the sky, and all the stars out, and everything as quiet as it could be, except now and then for the splash and rippling rings on the lake when a fish jumped up to see what was going on. If you had called him Pwyll then, he would no more have known what you meant than if you had called him the man in the moon. And that was because he had forgotten all about the Streamland, and all about his being the prince of it; and all that was in his mind was that he was Arawn, King of Annoon, and that he had been out hunting all day long, and he supposed he must have gone to sleep in that valley, and then he was wondering why and how he had come to fall asleep, and then he began to feel hungry, so he stopped wondering, and whistled to those strange, white dogs with red ears, and they came to him; and then, as if he had ridden that way every day of his life, he turned his horse's head toward the capital city of Annoon and rode straight to Arawn's palace.
When he got there, all the people called him "King" and "Arawn," and it never seemed a bit funny to him, as it does to you and me. For he just remembered the things that Arawn remembered, and he knew everybody's name at that court as well as Arawn knew them himself. Not that he was as great and wise then as Arawn was, or that he knew the real lovely things that Arawn did. No, indeed! How could he when he had not got the purple shining like the king? What he did know was the names of the people, and just enough to prevent himself or any one else ever guessing that he was another person than the true king. He could not become as great as Arawn, you see, until he had killed Havgan. And that was why Arawn had put him there — that Pwyll might grow strong and wise enough to be his own equal and friend.
And that is always the way with King Arawn, and you may be sure that some day or other he will be finding out that there is some dreadful enemy for you to fight, and then he will be seeing if you are strong enough to do it; and if you are not he will be putting you into all kinds of training; and it may be he will make you a king, and it may be he will make you a dustman, as he thinks fit, and whatever it is, he will wait and teach you, oh, so patiently, until that enemy is killed or that work is done.
There are some people who say that these things cannot happen, or perhaps that they only used to happen in the old, old times. But don't you believe it, because they are all just as likely to happen now as they were two or three thousand years ago. Aye, and now it is the New Century you cannot tell what may come any day. Indeed, if you manage to go right to the end of your life without seeing or hearing anything of Arawn the great, wise king — all I can say is, it is a funny child you are, and a funny man or woman you will grow up to be, so mind you that!
Well, a year and a day was Pwyll in King Arawn's palace, and no one dreaming that he was not the real king. One day he would be hunting in the woods and the forests, and another day he would be playing chess with one or another of the princes of Annoon, and often he would be feasting with the great men of that land, and at those feasts he would sing noble songs and tell splendid stories as well as the best of the bards and princes. And there was never a day in which he did not help some one, and so learn something himself; and if there had been I shouldn't wonder if he would have had to stay longer away from his own land. And so every day he grew stronger and wiser and more like the King. As the months passed by, too, you would have seen that the purple glow which was always around Arawn began, at first ever so dimly to shine around Pwyll. At the end of ten months there was no one who would not have seen that light, and when the year was at its passing, I do not think it was any less bright with Pwyll than it was with King Arawn himself.
Well, one evening at that time, while he was sitting in his place at the head of the great hall of the palace, there came a messenger from Havgan to say that in a few days' time the peace which was between him and Arawn would end, and that on the next Tuesday he would lead his army to the ford of the river which flowed between their two countries. Pwyll knew quite well about Havgan, and the peace that would have lasted for a year and a day, and he knew that he would have to be leading his army against the false King when that peace was over. So he was not a bit surprised, but just told all his princes to get their men together; and on the Tuesday he led them all to the ford.
And there were the two armies facing each other, and the river between them, shallow and full of stones, and great trees on the banks, and the sun shining down on the water between the leaves. When Havgan's princes saw Pwyll's army, it came into their minds that it would be well for their lord to fight alone with Arawn; and not to have any battle, for they had no quarrel with Arawn's men. So they sent a messenger out from their camp; a man dressed in blue, and with a little golden harp in his hand. You see they used always to carry harps in those days when they went on messages like that, because there was peace wherever a harp went.
So this man went out, and across the river, and the trout that were sunbathing in the shallow water did not stir, but stayed quite still in the water, because they saw that he was a messenger of peace. And he went to the great loyal tent where Pwyll was, in the middle of his army, and told the man who seemed to be Arawn what Havgan's princes thought. So Pwyll turned to his princes, and it seemed to them, also, that that would be the best thing, and it seemed so, too, to himself.
So that afternoon Pwyll put Arawn's golden breast-plate on his breast, and took his shield of strong hide studded over with nails of gold, and Arawn's great sword, a blow from which no doctor had ever healed, and went down with his princes and great lords to the ford. And what with the sun gleaming on the gold of his armour, and the purple light of his heart that was shining out through his breast and the green of his clothes, those lords and soldiers thought that they had never seen so bright a King as he was. As he went there were strange thoughts coming into his mind; and every now and then he could hear music so strong and sweet that he was wondering where in all Annoon was any one who could make it. And all the time it grew stronger and sweeter, and he could hear less and less of anything else, so much did it fill his heart and his mind.
When they came to the ford there was Havgan waiting, and his lords with him, and those two were for fighting in the middle of the shallow river, with the water playing around their feet. Havgan lifted his long spear as they stepped into the stream and threw it at the man who seemed to be Arawn, but it flew over his shoulder and stuck quivering in the brown bank on the other side. As it whizzed past Pwyll's ear, he seemed to hear the words of the strange music between the sound of the spear and the rustling of the young leaves and the song of the water, and the words that he heard were: "Prince of the Stream-land." Then Havgan drew his sword and they met in the middle of the ford. The sun was shining on Pwyll, but Havgan was always in the shade of the trees. Fierce was the attack of the false king, but all his sword blows fell on the shield or the sword of Arawn. While he was attacking there came into Pwyll's mind a wild, lone valley and a lake and strange fairies dancing round him, and the music that he heard grew more distinct.
Then he lifted Arawn's great sword, high in the air it flashed in the sunlight, and with it he struck Havgan. The false king lifted his sword to meet the blow, but it was beaten down and broken. Into the water he fell, and his broken sword flew from his hand and splashed into a deep pool by the bank a little way below the ford. As he struck that blow, Pwyll knew that he was not Arawn. Then Havgan said:
"I do not know why you should seek my death. Yet as you have begun to kill me, finish the work you have begun."
But the music seemed to be telling Pwyll not to do anything that Havgan asked, so he just answered:
"Not so, and if you are to die. you are to die without any more help of mine."
So Havgan knew that he had no more hope, and two of his princes carried him away and he died. So through that victory all Annoon came to belong to Arawn once more. And as soon as Havgan was killed, Pwyll came to remember everything.
And the next day he got on his horse and rode out alone to the wild valley, and there by the lake was King Arawn waiting. The king gave him back his own form and told him many things. It was a great thing for Pwyll to know such a king as Arawn. For ever afterward he was a dear friend and brother to the prince, and in the Streamland there was greater beauty and happiness than ever before, and people could go from one country to the other whenever they liked, and Pwyll was wise, and wise, and wise, and the purple shining never left him. And, as I told you, he changed his name in time. What he changed it to I won't tell you, only it means something you all will become when, like Prince Pwyll, you have killed the false king whom Arawn may put you to kill. And strong and wise you will need to be before you can do that and earn the new name that Pwvll had.