Putting Aside the Hurt of the Past
News of [Prince] Elphin’s astounding prowess in the battle with the cattle raiders spread quickly throughout the six cantrefs. His kinsmen greeted him respectfully when they saw him and told one another once and again about the uncanny change in the king’s son.
He was bold, they said, and brave; the soul of an ancient hero—perhaps the very one whose torc he now wore—animated him. The lumbering Cuall, formerly one of Elphin’s harshest detractors, became overnight his greatest advocate.
Elphin enjoyed the praise and his increased status in the clan but did not make too much of it, preferring to minimize his role in the remarkable series of events that seemed to be clustering around him since his discovery of the babe in the weir. And Hafgan [the druid], whose prophecy had foreseen the change, appeared to view the young man in a different light. Clan members saw the two talking together frequently….
With no shortage of eager volunteers, work [on Elphin’s house] was progressing quickly: timbers were cut, shaped, and erected around the perimeter of the excavated hole and connected with beams and rafters; walls of split logs had been lashed into place and the chinks were being filled with clay; soon reed thatch would be laid and trimmed for the roof….
…Then there came the sound of hammering. Elphin looked back toward his house where Cuall, having prepared the heads of the two raiders slain by Elphin’s spear by dipping them in cedar oil, was now nailing them to the doorposts of his nearly-finished house. “This is a warrior’s house,” he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “Now everyone will know it.”
“A warrior’s house,” muttered Elphin, shaking his head. “It was luck, not a warrior’s skill that felled those two.”
“Do not mock the faith of simple men,” replied Hafgan. “Luck in battle is a thing of power, for whatever men believe they will follow.” He paused and pointed at Cuall. “I spoke of the future. There is yours.”
“Cuall?”
“And men like him. A battlechief must have a warband.”
“A warband! Hafgan, we have not maintained a warband since before my grandfather was a boy. With the garrison at Caer Seiont there has been no need.”
“Times change, Elphin. Needs change….”
The druid turned and walked away. Elphin watched him go, and then went back to inspect his house. Cuall was lingering nearby, and Elphin realized with some surprise that the man waited for a look or sign of recognition from him. He stopped and studied the heads nailed to his doorposts and then directed his gaze to Cuall.
“I am honored by your thoughtfulness,” he said and watched a huge grin break like sunrise across Cuall’s crag of a face.
“A man should have renown among his people.”
“You have earned the hero’s portion often enough yourself, Cuall. And I have heard your name lauded around the feast table more times than I can count.”
Elphin was amazed at the impact of his words. The hulking Cuall grinned foolishly, and his cheeks colored like a maid’s when her clumsy flirtation is discovered.
“I would fight at your side anytime,” said Cuall earnestly.
“I am going to raise a warband, Cuall. I will need your help.”
“My life is yours, Sire.” Cuall touched his forehead with the back of his hand.
“I accept your service,” Elphin replied seriously. The two men gazed at one another and Cuall stepped close, taking Elphin in a fierce hug. Then, suddenly embarrassed, he turned and hurried away.
“You will make a good king.”
Elphin turned to see [his recently-wed wife] Rhonwyn watching him from the doorway. “You saw?”
She nodded. “I saw a future lord winning support. More, I saw a man putting aside the hurt of the past and reconciling a former enemy, raising him to friendship without rancor or guile.”
“It is not in me to hurt him. Besides, he is the best warrior in the clan. I will need his help.”
“And that is why you will be a good king. Small men do not hesitate to repay hurt for hurt….”
— Taliesin, Chapter 13
