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"He saved my life. Surely I owe him a good turn."
"My tad says "
"Sod your tad! I am talking about an innocent man's eyes."
"How do you know he is innocent?"
"Because " He balled his fists in frustration. His mouth opened and shut. It came out in a
rush. "Because / am the charmer! I charmed that spare gun."
"Dai!" Her eyes grew round, like big daisies.
"Look!" He laid his hand on the top of the gate, palm up. A shotgun shell appeared in it.
"Now do you believe me?"
She grabbed the shell from his hand and flung it far into the grass. "Dai you must not let
them find out!"
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"Don't worry I won't," he reassured her. "But I've got to help the Sais.''
She said, "What do you want me to do?"
The square in Cwm Goch was crowded by the time Dafydd climbed, crouching furtively,
onto the roof of the school- house. Owen Owen the carpenter had knocked out the secu- rity
dowels holding the bar which closed the door of the old Post Office. Two helpers withdrew
the great beam. Then they carried out the Sais, chair and ail, and brought him to the war
memorial. Six bowmen stood in a semicircle, arrows nocked. The porters loosed the Sais
from his chair and bound him with hempen rope to the pillar of stone. They tied an extra
ligature to hold his head immovable.
Pastor Roberts in full canonicals stood behind the archers. The voice of Emrys Jones,
speaking English, carried clearly to me school roof.
162 Edward P. Hughes
"Englishman, you have betrayed yourself as a charmer, and it is useless to deny it. By the
taw of the land, you should die."
Pastor Roberts raised his voice. "Thou shall not suffer a witch to live. Exodus, chapter
twenty-two, verse eighteen."
Emrys ignored the interruption. "Sightless charmers can- not harm. Ergo, they are no longer
charmers. Do you under- stand the need for you to be sightless. Englishman?"
Long John Ledger responded in a loud voice. "I have done you no harm. I intend you no
harm. Let me go, and 1 will leave Cwm Goch."
Emrys Jones wagged his head. "Rhys of Ruthin would hardly accept that as a valid excuse
for releasing you. And we are accountable to him."
"It is not the harm you do now," pointed out Tecwin Thomas. "It is the harm your kind have
done in the past."
"The sins of the fathers " began Pastor Roberts.
"Shut up, you old fool!" yelled Ceinwen's father.
"Keep me prisoner while 1 send an appeal to King Rhys," suggested Long John.
Again Emrys Jones wagged his head. "You are playing for time. Englishman, and we have
none to spare. Executor!"
No one moved.
Emrys Jones turned round. "Where is Dylan Williams?"
A voice. "He is not here."
"Then who has the spoon?"
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No one spoke.
Emrys Jones said, "1 will get another."
In silence the Senior Councillor crossed the road, entered his house, and returned with a
teaspoon. He called, "Stand forward who will do the job'"
No one moved. A voice called, "Find yourself a soldier!" Dafydd thought he recognized his
father's laugh.
Emrys puffed out his cheeks, as he did when faced with knotty Council problems, "i am
sorry that no one is prepared to undertake an honorable task. I suppose I must do my own
dirty work." He turned back to the Sais. "If this hufls too much. Englishman, I apologize. But,
consider; it is better to lose your sight than lose your life and it will be over in a minute."
A BORN CHARMER 163
He approached the Sais, spoon raised.
Dafydd dared delay no longer. There was no chance, now, that Long John could talk himself
out of this fix. Dafydd glared at the pillar to which the Sais was bound. He knew the war
memorial as well as he knew his own front door from the triangular apex, past the catalogue
of names on its face, to the base chipped by a Raider's bullet long before he was bom.
He charmed, and the war memorial disappeared. The Sais stood free, bonds hanging
loosely around him.
"Archers!" shrieked Emrys.
Dafydd charmed again, a picture from the mom's book clear in his mind. And, like some
medieval knight, the Sais stood in a replica of the armor worn by Edward Plantagenet,
Black Prince of England. The crowd fell back. A nervous finger twitched, and aa arrow
bounced harmlessly off me Sais' breastplate.
Dafydd put two fingers into his mouth and blew a shrill blast. Down at the tavern, Ceinwen
Thomas opened a stable door to push out a horse and a pony.
Dafydd whistled again. The horse whickered and came up to the square at a smart trot,
towing the reluctant pony.
The Black Prince had his sword out- back!" he ordered. "I command you in the name of Sir
John Ledger de Main!"
The bowmen retreated before him- On the far side of the square a man raised a shotgun,
and pulled the trigger ineffectually.
Dafydd grinned.
He looked anxiously up the road towards Pastor Roberts* chapel. It was high time his
diversion was showing. He glimpsed the unnoticed wisps of smoke trailing from the chapel
windows. From me cover of the schoolhouse project, he yelled, "Fire! The chapel is on fire!"
He heard Pastor Roberts' high-pitched shriek. Other voices took up the warning. When he
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dared to look, the crowd was streaming up the road towards the burning building.
Sir John Ledger de Main stood alone in the square. His horse and loaded pack pony
trotted up and halted, whinnying
164 Edward P. Hughes
at the unfamiliar armor. The Black Night got leisurely onto his mount. He raised the sword in
salute.
"Elegantly done, Dai' You did not need much help. that time!"
Dafydd glanced nervously up the street to where the chapel bumed- The damp straw he had
set smoldering in the chancei that morning was still producing enough smoke to hold the
firelighters' attention. He stood up to wave at the Black Knight. "Time you were on your way,
Sais!"
The Black Knight waved back. "Thanks for my eyes, little Welshman. Don't forget London
when your luck runs out here!"
Then Long John Ledger sheathed his sword and was off down the street, like some lone
Crusader on his way to war. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]