So, after a supper of stewed leeks, roast venison, the coarse camp bread, and cheese, Myrddin Emrys took up his harp. The entire camp gathered on the riverbank, crowding one against another to the edge of the water so that no one could move. None seemed to mind the cramp, so intent were they on the Emrys' song.
Myrddin stood before them on a flat-topped rock, the waters of the Twide swirling below him. Straight and tall he stood before the battle host of Britain, idly strumming the harp, dead eyes downcast, searching among the tales in his vast store for the one he would share tonight. It was ever the same with him; Myrddin would try to fit the song to his listeners, so that it would speak to them a word they could treasure in their souls.
His long fingers played over the harp strings, drawing a melody from the singing heart of the harp as lightly as a maid coaxing a smile from her lover. Then, raising his head, he began the tale. And this is what he sang…
In the First Days of Men, when the dew of creation was still fresh on the earth, Bran the Blessed, son of Llyr, was Icing of Gwynedd and Lloegres and all Ynys Prydein besides. He was as just and fair as the sunlight that falls from heaven, and a better king was not known since kingship began in the Island of the Mighty, and this is the way of it…
One day, as Bran sat on the rock of Harddlech overlooking the sea, accompanied by his kinsmen and such men of rank as ought to surround a very great king, he spied thirteen Irish ships coming to him from over the sea and making for the coast, running before the wind with all the grace and ease of gulls.
Seeing this, Bran bestirred himself and said, 'Friends and kinsmen, I see ships out there boldly approaching our lands. Go you down to meet them and discover what these visitors intend by coming here like this.'
The men of Bran's company equipped themselves and went down to await the Irish ships. 'Lieu smite me,' exclaimed one of the men as the ships came closer, 'if I have ever seen ships as fine as these.' And all agreed that they were handsome ships indeed.
The foremost ship drew ahead of the others and they saw a shield raised on the deck as a sign of peace. The ships then stood off from shore and put out boats filled with strangers who proceeded to land.
'Lieu be good to you,' called Bran in greeting from his rock as the foremost stranger strode up out of the water, 'if you seek peace, you are welcome. Whose ships are these, and who is your leader?'
'Lord Sechlainn, King of the Ierne,' came the reply. 'It is he who owns these ships – and many more like them, since you ask.'
'What does he seek by coming here?' demanded Bran. He had learned through bitter experience not to trust strangers from across the sea. 'Will he come ashore?'
'No, lord,' the emissary answered. 'My king has a request of you and will not set foot upon these lands unless you grant it.'
'Well, am I to know this request?'
'Great lord,' the emissary said courteously, 'King Sechlainn seeks to make an alliance with you. As proof of your friendship, he has come to ask for Bronwen, daughter of Llyr, to be his wife, that your houses be for ever bound by ties of blood and honour. In this way will Ierne and the Island of the Mighty be made stronger.'
'Tell your lord that he had better come to my dun where we can discuss the matter properly.'
King Sechlainn heard this and came ashore at once, his counsellors and men of rank with him. And great was the host in Bran's hall that night.
First light next day, the men of the Island of the Mighty met in council. They decided that the incessant warring with the Irish must cease, and the sooner the better for all. If the alliance with Sechlainn could accomplish this, it should be sought. Still, they were greatly sorrowed to let Bronwen go from them, for she was one of the Three Great Queens of the island, and widely known as the most beautiful woman then alive.
Nevertheless, it was decided that she should become Sechlainn's queen for the good of all. And so a feast was declared to celebrate the joining of the two most powerful houses in all this worlds-realm.
For his pan, King Sechlainn brought seven of his ships near to land and began unloading them. 'What is swimming to shore?' wondered the British men. 'Please tell us, for we have never seen creatures of their like before.'
'These noble animals are called horses,' replied the Irish men. 'Well you might wonder to look upon them, for they are a gift to us from Lugh of the Sure Hand himself; they come to you straightway from the Otherworld.'
The British men were amazed to see such beautiful creatures climbing out of the waves and foam, glistening in the sunlight as if gilt with the gold of heaven. The horses and their grooms were received with all honour and respect and put at once in the finest fields and glens that Bran possessed.
And Bronwen, his sister, was married to Sechlainn the Irish king that very day. As proof of their marriage, the couple slept together that same night and thus joined the noble kingdoms of Ierne and Ynys Prydein.
During the wedding celebration – which lasted so many days that men lost count – Lord Evnissyen, Bran's quarrelsome cousin, arrived from his travels and saw some of the horses. 'What are these ugly beasts?' he demanded. 'And who has brought them here to waste our land with their upkeep?'
They are the bride price paid for Bronwen, who is now become the wife of King Sechlainn of Ireland,' answered one of the grooms.
Evnissyen, the Bent One, frowned, which he was ever known to do, and growled at the groom. 'What! Have they given away that excellent woman without my consent? Indeed, my cousin could not have hit upon a greater insult to me if that had been his sole ambition. Very likely it was.'
So saying, the ill-tempered Evnissyen began smiting the horses with his fists, striking first their jaws and heads, then their flanks and backs, and finally their hocks and tails. This he did with such vengeance and malice that the once-proud creatures were disfigured beyond all value.
News of this outrage took wings to King Sechlainn, who wondered at the atrocity of it. 'This insult to my gift is no less insult to me. More, if this is how they respect my highest treasure, I fear I will fare no better,' he said, shaking his head. 'My path is clear: there is nothing to do but make for the ships.'
King Sechlainn took his wife and men and hastened to his realm across the sea. The ships became specks on the sea and disappeared altogether before Bran learned of his leaving. But he did learn, and he said, 'It is not fitting that he should leave in such unseemly haste. Therefore, we will not let him go.'
Bran sent messengers out in his fastest ships to plead with Sechlainn to return and favour Bran's court with his presence.
'That I will not do,' replied King Sechlainn from the deck of his handsome ship, 'until I know who has cast this slander on my name by destroying my good gift.' And he told them about the injury done to the horses.
When Bran heard the messengers' report, he was heard to remark, 'I smell the evil of Evnissyen at work here. Lieu knows he was ever a trouble maker.' So once again he sent out the messengers – Manawyddan ap Llyr, Heveydd the Tall, and Unig Strong Shoulder – to offer his apology for his kinsman's bad manners, saying, Tell the king of Ierne that if he will overlook Evnissyen's insult I will give him a staff of silver as tall as he is, and a platter of gold as broad as his own face. Or, if he will not accept that, let Sechlainn come to me and name what he will accept and we shall make peace on whatever terms he deems best.'
These swift messengers sailed with all speed to Sechlainn and offered Bran's words in a friendly way. The king listened and his fair wife pleaded with him, 'My brother is an honourable man, my husband. Allow him to prove himself in this matter and you will not be disappointed.'