Chapter 1

Located in the centre of the dark forest, in a very large and pretty glade, sat a small cottage. It was built at the bottom of a slight dip, so only the tumble-down thatched roof, damaged over the years by mice and birds, could be seen by passersby. The roof let in a constant drip of rain water, giving the interior a musty smell of rot and damp, that even on a hot summers day still pervaded through the air.

In summer the glade was full of perfumed and colourful flowers. Long grasses would blow back and forth gently in the breeze and there was lots of scurrying wildlife in the undergrowth. But despite this haven of nature and beauty, there was no disguising the darkness and feeling of doom the cottage seem to excrete from its walls. 

The front of the cottage had an old wooden door, which was twisted with age, did not close properly, and caused the inside of the building to be cold and draughty. The two small windows at the front were permanently boarded up, shutting out most of the daylight. Any curious passersby trying to see inside through the missing timber knot holes would see little. Perhaps they’d see embers in the fireplace, or maybe in winter the full flames of a roaring fire casting shadows over a hunched figure.

Around the back of the cottage was a small stone extension, with a dark blue slate roof and wooden guttering. The rear wall had a single boarded up window and an outline of a door that was now fully bricked in. To one side was a small trapdoor, chained and locked through the handles. It led to a small wine and grain store that had been empty for many years, now it just contained crispy dried brown leaves and the skeletal remains of dead mice.

An old sherry barrel stood fast against the stone wall. It was full of green putrid rainwater, fed by the decayed wooden guttering above. At one side of the cottage hung several large rusty rings and chains, with a scraggy goat and emaciated donkey tethered to them. The rings were mortared into the stonework, and large well-oiled padlocks held the ends of the chain together. To one side, a red brick chimney stood the full height of the cottage, leaning heavily inwards at roof level. Despite its angle, the chimney had survived many a strong gale and no doubt would survive many more.

A fresh new summer had began. The air felt clean and crisp and all around the glade blue tulips and yellow daisies were beginning to sprout, in great colourful clumps. The grass was beginning to grow again rapidly after the long winter, and the blossom in the fruit trees had turned to embryonic fruit and were swelling fast. The cloudless clear blue sky made the grey dim winter skies seem a thing of the distant past.

Inside the dank cottage an old woman was hunched over a black cast iron cooking pot which she stirred slowly with her long curved ladle. A thin layer of grease covered the pot all over and old chunks of dried food was stuck to the pot edges. The unused pot lid lay on the floor, covered with straw and detritus.

The old woman lent over to the side table and took a badly chipped white enamel plate. Onto it she dripped some of the glutenous contents from the cooking pot. As she bent over the plate, her face was lit by the fire, the fire glow highlighting her deep wrinkles, warts and beaked mucus dripping nose. She opened her thin mouth and stuck her long slimy pink wet tongue into the plate contents. She nodded and cackled to herself, satisfied that food was warm enough.

“Anghenfil!” she exclaimed. 

There was no reply.

“Anghenfil! Come and get your food. Now!”

No reply. Her eyes narrowed and her mouth tightened even thinner, till her mouth appeared to be just a thin slit.

“Anghenfil, last chance boy, I’m counting down. Five, four, three -”

“Wait, Grandma I’m coming,” a small shrill voice said in panic.

The cottage door swung open and through the doorway entered a young boy, about fourteen years old. Grandma slowly turned her head towards the door and grimaced at the boy.

“Anghenfil, my dear, please come quicker, you know Grandma hates it when you are tardy.”

“I’m sorry Grandma, I fell asleep in the long grass, it is such a beautiful day today.”

Grandma grunted. 

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” she muttered quietly to herself.

“Pardon Grandma?” Anghenfil asked.

“Nothing my dear.”

Grandma loaded up the plate with great dollops of dark meaty stew and passed the plate to Anghenfil. 

“Here hurry up and take your food. Eat it up,” she said.

He gingerly took the plate and went to a chair in a dark corner of the room and sat down to eat. Hungrily he shoved his wooden spoon into the pile and quickly devoured his meal.

“Grandma?”

“Yes my dear.”

Anghenfil was hesitant.

“Grandma, why is it that…,” he suddenly became afraid to finish his question.

Grandma turned round slowly from stirring the pot. She lifted up her head and glared at him, her black beady eyes piercing right through him, seemingly to his very heart. He felt a chill down his body.

“Please go on my dear, ask your question,” she said in a whisper.

“Why is it…why is it dear Grandma, you never eat with me?” 

There was a long pause. Silence hit the room and the air seemed to chill. All that could be heard was the scratching of the mice in the thatch, and the tick-tock of an old clock on the fireplace mantle.

“But my dear, you eat so much, I have to make a fresh stew for myself and I do this when you go to bed. It is only a small cooking pot you know. Perhaps when you are older you will buy me a bigger pot,” she said with a smile.

From his dark corner in the kitchen, Anghenfil nodded his head in acknowledgement.

A minute of silence passed. Suddenly she shouted out.

“I said it is only a small cooking pot!”

He’d forgotten her eyesight was very bad and hadn’t seen his response. He quickly stuttered.

“Yes Grandma, I heard, thank you. I understand. Sorry.”

Grandma smiled. Suddenly she was all nice and gentle again.

“Yes my dear. Now go and play for an hour. It’s a big day tomorrow. We will have company.”

Anghenfil nodded and clapped his hands together.

“Oh, I forgot it was tomorrow they were coming,” he said, “I am so excited!”

He gave a little skip and went back out into the glade.

Once outside, he walked over to a small stone well, that served up drinking water. He lowered the bucket down the well and drew up some water to drink. As the bucket clanked against the wall, he thought how much he loved drinking water straight from the well. He pulled the bucket back up and took a big gulp of the water.

“Mmm, icy freshness,” he said to himself out loud. The well water always quenched his thirst so much better than milk from the goat he looked after. 

He sat back down onto the grass and leaned against the well wall and closed his eyes. He began to think of tomorrows visitors, and smiled happily to himself in anticipation. The best thing for Anghenfil, was that he could choose one child to be his “besty,” and his chosen friend would stay with him  for ten weeks. He would have a friend to play with, to explore the woods, run and play, tell scary stories or jokes, set each other riddles and generally have a great time. 

It was two weeks now since his last ‘besty’, a boy named Jarrow, returned home. Jarrow really loved staying at the glade with him, but he got really fat with all of Grandma’s good cooking and towards the end of his stay had real trouble even climbing a tree. When Anghenfil had a friend staying, the food was also so much better. Grandma made special sweet cakes, with delicious icing on top made from the sugar the villagers brought. She also fermented yeast in apple juice and produced a sweet and sour drink. Though both him and his besty could usually only manage a half-a-cup, as it made him woozy and a bit silly. His besty always seemed to laugh more at his bad jokes after a drink of Grandma’s apple juice. Anghenfil however was not allowed as much good food as his friend, as apparently, so Grandma said, he had a delicate stomach. Thats why he had to eat so much stew. He really missed Jarrow, but tomorrow he would have six friends and after almost a week a new best friend.

At these thoughts he was overcome with a feeling of joy at the good times to come and stretched out with a yawn and a large smile.

A cloud passed overhead and the sudden chill roused him from his day-dream. It was almost evening and if he didn’t go back inside soon Grandma would be cross. He marched  sharply across the glade and went through the rickety door. Once inside, he saw Grandma, still at her pot stirring. She slowly peered up.

“Anghenfil, just in time my dear.”

She leered at him.

“Make yourself ready for sleep time.”

“Yes Grandma, at once,” he said. 

Usually he did not want to go to bed when it was still light outside, but on this occasion he did not mind because the sooner he got to sleep, the sooner tomorrow would come. 

He walked down the small passageway to his bedroom and walked over to his wash bowl. After he did his evening wash, he jumped straight onto his large soft bed, which was covered in animal furs and pillows of straw.

He laid back and thought once more of his new besty. His friend would not be staying in his bedroom, but at the back of the cottage in the small slate roofed extension. Although smaller than his room, it was still comfortable and warm, and most importantly dry. Although his friends found Grandma a bit scary at times, he knew that she kind at heart and always looked after them very well. She always kept his friends bedroom door locked at night, just in case they sleep-walked and fell into the well, she used to say. 

The cottage was split into three rooms, his room, the guest room at the far back and the large narrow kitchen living room. He often wondered where Grandma slept. He always slept very deeply and never got up at night, Grandma always gave him a delicious glass of warm goats milk, freshly milked from the goat, which always sent him off to sleep quickly. Anghenfil had assumed over the years Grandma just nodded off in front of the fire and her beloved cooking pot.

Abruptly there was a knock on the bedroom door, disturbing his thoughts.

“Anghenfil, my dear, I’ve brought your milk, may I come in?”

“Yes of course Grandma, please enter.”

He swallowed hard and tried to suppress the feeling of dread that always came over him when she came to visit him in his bedroom. It was the one place he felt safe and secure and he felt somewhat uncomfortable when she was in his sanctuary. Slowly Grandma shuffled in through the door and came to his bedside. She laid down the milk on his side table and watched him very carefully as he drank it all down. When he had finished, she stepped back and a look of concern appeared on her face.

“Anghenfil… You know that since your mother and father died, I have tried to do my best for you?” she said.

“Yes Grandma, thank you, I am most grateful.”

“Well, when the visitors arrive tomorrow, you must not talk to them. You must observe the children, so you can make a good choice of friend. You may hear them talking around their campfire at night. The villagers sometimes talk nonsense, scary stories, to frighten children and themselves. You must remember, what I have always told you.”

“Yes Grandma, I remember what you’ve always told me. You’ve always said that there are no monsters.”

She smiled a sweet toothless smile at his answer.

Chapter 2

The little hamlet of Long Ford nestled in the dip of several hills. Sandy coloured stone houses stood either side of a meandering cart track. The houses had small gables, stone tiled roofs and were small but very substantial in build. Lush green hills surrounded the houses, with sheep and cows grazing contentedly. Small woodland copses were scattered about, and several barn-like structures stood upright amongst the meadows. Beautiful yellow, brown and blue marigolds and other wild-flowers were waving gently in the breeze of a hot summers day.

The first house into the hamlet was slightly smaller than the rest, and much older. Attached to it was a tumble-down tin roofed workshop where Cai, the local blacksmith worked. He and his wife were quite wealthy, as Cai was always kept busy with work. Most of the occupants of the hamlet were also quite well off financially as generations of animal farming and good fortune had made the little hamlet the envy of surrounding villages.

Inside the house the family were in a state of frazzled excitement.

“I don’t see why she had to go, I don’t want her to go,” a woman said. “What happens if she gets chosen?”

“Please Ani, don’t worry, there’s only a slim chance of that. Don’t forget other children are going, she won’t be the only one,” Cai replied. “If she does get chosen, we’ll see her again in ten weeks. And besides she’ll come back educated in the use of herbs and potions, which can’t be a bad thing can it?”

“But Cai… I’ve heard rumours from the other villages and also from some travellers. A woman peddler passed through yesterday selling clothes pegs. As I was chatting to her, I mentioned that Alys had been chosen to go and visit the glade. Cai, she suddenly became very concerned.”

“Concerned? What do you mean?”

“She told me that the chosen child never returns home. That they disappear. That excuses are given that they’ve gone on to other villages to help nurse ill people and make potions and medicines, but it’s totally false. The peg lady told me in no uncertain terms, not to take Alys to the glade!”

Cai looked at her sternly. As if she was a silly child.

“Honestly Ani, you can’t take any notice of what a wandering peg lady says,” Cai said.

“Cai, I don’t want her to go.”

“She has to go now, you know that. We drew the short straw. We are honour bound to go. If we don’t we’ll be ostracised. We may even be thrown out of our home. Do you really want to take that risk?”

“No, but…”

“No buts about it. My family has been living in this hamlet for over ten generations and so has yours. I’ve tried to be a good husband to you.”

“I know, I know.”

“Jack would have done the same thing I’m sure. I know Alys is only my step-daughter, but I love her as my own. I would never put her in danger. Never.”

“I guess so,” Ani replied despondently

“There’s no guess about it. I have loved you all for years. Jack died in that terrible farm accident and I married you. To look after you and Alys. For your sake and for the memory of Jack my best friend. Never would I put any of you in jeopardy. Never!”

“Oh I know Cai, I know. Its just I have a feeling of dread since I spoke that peg lady. I feel sick at the bottom of my stomach. Something bad is going to happen, I’m sure.”

“Nothing bad is going to happen,” Cai said reassuringly as he wrapped his arms about here. “Nothing, I promise.”

She nuzzled into his shoulder, slightly reassured.

Upstairs, in the middle bedroom Alys was humming to herself. She was brushing her hair whilst sat in front of the mirror and contemplating tomorrow. She thought herself very lucky their family was picked to send a child to the glade. She’d always had an interest in herbs and potions and looked forward to expanding her knowledge if she was chosen to stay on. Apparently, so she heard, the person who stayed on gets to be friends with Anghenfil, who lived there with his Grandma. Alys wasn’t a playful kind of child. She was quite serious and grown-up for her age. But she was going to make a special effort to become friends with this Anghenfil and get chosen. There was only one thing that bothered her, and that was the demeanour of her mother the last few weeks. Ever since they’d picked the short straw, her mother was on edge and was even worse yesterday after a visit from that peg lady. It would be difficult for her if Alys had to stay for weeks at the glade, she hoped her mother would cope alright without her. They weren’t just mother and daughter, they were also very good friends.

The next morning, the household awoke early. Ani tried to distract her feelings of doom by preparing their breakfasts of apple and oatmeal. In the other room Cai packed up his and Aly’s rucksack and made their preparations to leave. Ani paced up and down in the kitchen, wringing her hands. Her breakfast sat on the table, untouched, she felt too sick to eat it.  Cai and Alys also had trouble eating, but for them, it was the excitement of the day to come, that made them lose their appetites. Cai looked across at Ani, he was getting concerned at her mood.

‘Ani, please it’ll be ok,” Cai said.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want her to go. I feel sick just thinking about it.”

“We talked about this yesterday, all will be ok.”

Ani nodded back. 

It was no use talking to him, he wouldn’t change his mind she thought.

Cai and Alys closed their ruck-sacks and heaved them onto their backs. They were quite heavy especially for Cai who also had lots of Aly’s clothes in his. 

“Goodbye my love, I’ll see you in a week.”

“Goodby mummy,” said Alys, “see you in week or maybe a few months.”

Alys tried to give a reassuring smile to Ani, but it was no good. She was too despondent.

“Alys, you’ve got your medicine? And you’ve taken todays dose?” her mother asked.

“Yes mother, of course,” Alys replied with a smile.

Alys, along with all the other children in the district,  suffered from fits, though she never actually remembered having one. Every morning for the past few years she had to take a sour tasting medicine that she hated. The elders of the local villages and hamlets said it was caused by polluted water upstream in the county river, and that the medicine would prevent the children’s illness getting worse.

They all made their way to the front gate.

“Goodbye my love, we’ll see you soon,” Cai said.

“Cai…”

“Yes?”

“Oh nothing, doesn’t matter. Goodbye,” she said.

 Ceri gave Ani a final kiss and hug, then they started their way along the path, on route to the Dark Forest and thence the glade.

Ani watched them go with tears welling up. After seeing them get smaller and smaller in the distance, she could bear it no more and and broke down and cried. Never in her life had Aly been away from her for more than a few hours. Her being away for so long was going to be unbearable. She made a quick decision, and quickly packed a small bag with water and some food. She then locked up the house and made her way along the path, following Cai and Alys, but keeping out of sight for the time being. She was determined to get to the glade and talk them into coming back.

Chapter 3

From the window, through the shutters, a stream of bright summer morning light cast shadows onto Anghenfil’s face. He woke with a yawn and stretch and as usual first thing in the morning, his mind was a total blank. He quickly remembered with great excitement what day it was, and leapt up out of bed. Suddenly he felt his head spinning and he collapsed back onto his bed. He’d forgotten he always felt groggy in the morning and needed time to wake up properly, before making sudden movements. He was beginning to suspect he should stop taking goats milk before bedtime, it was too good.

After he had performed his morning ablutions, he dressed and scampered into the kitchen. Grandma was at her pot, stirring it as usual. He was so overcome with excitement at the prospect of visitors, that he ran up to her and planted a kiss on her cheek. It was something he’d never done or thought to do before, but he couldn’t contain himself for the forthcoming day.

Her cheek was cold. Deathly cold. It reminded him of a slab of cold chicken breast laid out on the counter, or a dead toad he once had to fish out of the well.

“Aaaarg,” he exclaimed involuntary.

“Do not touch me Anghenfil!” she exclaimed. “You know it’s forbidden.”

“I’m sorry Grandma, I forgot,” he said.

“Well make sure you don’t forget again, or you will be punished. I don’t wish to sound harsh with you boy, but my cheeks are very sensitive and you could cause me to become ill.”

“Yes Grandma.”

“Now sit down on your corner seat dear, all is forgotten and forgiven.”

Anghenfil did as he was told. The wind was taken out of his sails now. He felt slightly depressed - he was so looking forward to this day.

Grandma looked at him with a half-smile.

“Here you are my dear, something to cheer you up,” she said. 

Grandma passed him a plate of stew, which he took eagerly, knowing that to show reticence would more than likely enrage her. Truth be told, he didn’t like her stew. It was too meaty, not enough vegetables, and thick and lumpy. The meat too was always pink and seemed always underdone, despite the hours of cooking in the pot. Some of it was also very gristly and chewy and sometimes small bones she left in would hurt his teeth.

Anghenfil took a mouthful and nearly gagged. A big slimy bit of fat went over his tongue and was sticking down his throat. He quickly had to drink half a glass of water to get it down. Luckily Grandma didn’t notice.

As much as he loved visitors day itself, he hated breakfast on that days that the visitors stayed. Breakfast always tasted a bit odd, it had a strange bitter taste, similar to the taste of his bedtime goats milk, but not as strong. It made him feel hazy and a bit light headed and slightly out of it. Grandma said it was caused by too much excitement. 

He quickly ate the rest of the stew, chewing it as little as possible and swallowing it right down before he got the taste of it on his tongue.

“Anghenfil, have you finished your food yet?” Grandma asked. Once you have finished, you may go outside and wait for our visitors. You do that while I get ready,” Grandma said.

Anghenfil left the kitchen and went outside to the glade, whilst she slowly got up and walked over to an old wardrobe in the corner of the room. She opened it up and examined inside carefully. She let drop her existing black shawl onto the floor and took from the wardrobe a red lambs wool shawl and placed it over her shoulders. There was a shimmer that ran over her and she slowly turned and followed Anghenfil out into the glade.

As soon as she was outside, she winced. She did not enjoy going outside as the light hurt her eyes and burned into her skin. She could tolerate it for several hours, but would be glad to get back inside into the comfort of the darkness.

“Anghenfil my dear, where is my stool to sit on, get it now,” she demanded.

“Yes of course Grandma,” he stuttered. So far the day was not getting better.

Once she was seated on her stool, Anghenfil placed himself cross-legged in front of her, sitting on the dew damp grass. They both sat upright stared directly ahead into the forest, at the main access path to the cottage, and waited.

They did not have to wait too long. The visitors knew better than to keep Grandma waiting on visitation day. Along the path slowly walked the first couple, a father and daughter. Both had smiles transfixed to their faces and stared straight down at the ground, they did not look directly at Anghenfil or Grandma. He was a fat pear shaped man, with rosy cheeks, greased back hair and a small beard. He looked rather jolly Anghenfil thought, especially with those bright red trouser braces he had on to keep his trousers up. His daughter was small and dainty, with short cropped hair, wearing a blue dress and with a large birthmark on her leg shaped like a butterfly. Anghenfil liked her too, she was very pretty, though she seemed rather small and insignificant somehow.

“The girl is called Ceri, and he is called Elis, from the village of Twig Worth,” Grandma whispered down to Anghenfil. 

How Grandma knew their names and where they came from puzzled him, as neither of the visitors had yet spoken, but had sat down some distance away, cross-legged and with their heads bowed.

Next to arrive was a rather gaunt tall man, with hollowed cheeks and a very pale face. His son looked like his father too, but even more sickly.

“That is Carwyn, with his father Dafydd,” Grandma said. Then, to herself, in a lowered voice,

“Too thin.”

“Pardon Grandma?” Anghenfil asked.

Grandma cleared her throat, “Ah, too thin and sickly, he’ll never make a good friend for you for ten weeks, he’ll never keep up with you.”

Anghenfil was prone to agree with Grandma on that point. Carwyn and Dafydd took their place next to the first couple and also sat down cross legged with faces down.

The next couple were a mother and daughter, who seemed a nervous looking freckle faced girl, who kept fidgeting and seemed eager to go or be somewhere else. Anghenfil knew straight away he would not choose her.

Next were a father with his son called Iwan, a rotund looking boy. Anghenfil was sure he would not be able to climb many trees with him.

The next couple were a father with his daughter, a gawkish looking girl, with straggly dark hair and bad complexion. Anghenfil didn’t like the look of her or her father, a short stern looking man with a long beard and spiky hair. Anghenfil excluded her too.

All couples were sat in their respective positions, waiting for the last couple to arrive. Grandma was getting impatient, the fresh air and sunshine were getting to her, so she was getting rather tetchy and as such the atmosphere grew tense as everyone waited in awkward silence.

Suddenly there was a scream from the forest.

“Leave my girl alone Cai, you can’t take her,” wailed Ani’s voice deep from within the forest path.

“Let go woman!” shouted Cai, “It has to be done, you know we have no choice, we pulled the short straw!”

Ani continued screaming hysterically until they appeared at the end of the path and came into full view of everyone. Suddenly she stopped screaming and all was silent. Cai held Alys by one hand and with his other hand he was pushing back Ani.

“It has to be done!” he said to her firmly and quietly. Ani had streaks of tears down her face and started sobbing to herself. 

“Enough!” shouted Grandma. “What are you doing here, you know the rules, only the father is allowed to come with the child.”

“I beg you please leave my child alone, she is all I have,” Ani sobbed.

“My dear,” Grandma replied menacingly, “you need not worry. Your child will join us this week and have a wonderful time. Then if Anghenfil chooses her for his best friend, she will spend ten wonderful weeks here with us.”

“And then I’ll get my girl back?” Ani asked quietly.

“My dear, you’ll not worry about her then,” replied Grandma. “Now go, and leave the attendance of the ceremony to your husband.”

Ani gave an uncertain nod, looked at her husband who smiled reassuringly. With one last look towards Alys, the mother retreated back down the path and disappeared from sight.

“Now then, your attention please. Let the ceremony begin,” proclaimed Grandma.

“Who is the elected leader?” she asked.

Elis, the fat pear shaped man, stood up.

He looked around, trying to make eye contact with as many as possible.

“It is my honour and a privilege to be chosen as the leader of the visitors,” he announced.

Then he gave a little bow.

Grandma looked at him in disbelief at his sheer pomposity. Then caught herself and nodded sternly. She gave a hand gesture.

“You may begin oh elected leader.”

The sarcasm did not register with him.

Elis cleared his throat and began speaking.

“Ma’am, we hail your wondrous beauty and your great wisdom. May our children learn from you and become good and wise citizens. Please accept these goods in gratitude.”

With that he placed on the ground bags of sugar and salt and several small bags of spices.

Grandma looked down and examined the bags from a far. Seemingly satisfied, she responded.

“I welcome your gratitude, may your children use their time here productively and become good and wise citizens when they grow up. May the child that stays chose to go afterwards to learn to become a healer, like myself.”

Elis stood up.

“Thank you so -”

“Shut up, I haven’t finished, you fool,” Grandma said.

Elis narrowed his eyes and glared back at her. She continued.

“Can I also remind everyone of the rules. Anghenfil must not be spoken to. He must make is decision by watching you learn and play. If anyone dare speak to Anghenfil, then they will be punished severely, as was agreed with the villages committee. It would most likely be banishment from their village. Forever. That was the agreement we settled on long ago. I expect it to still be upheld. Or there’ll be a price to pay. And children - pay attention to the lessons and learn, or you too will have to pay the price.”

She paused and looked around slowly, to give them time for the message to sink in.  She gave a slight cackle to lighten the mood. 

“Anghenfil, collect the goods and take them into the house,” she said.

Anghenfil rose slowly, he was extremely stiff after sitting all that time, and went over to pick up the bags. As he bent over to pick them up, he caught Alys eye, as they looked at each other she gave him a big smile and a wink.

Anghenfil decided he liked her. Very much. He disappeared into the house with a warm, uplifted feeling. He had already decided to himself that Alys would be his new best friend. She was very pretty indeed but even she was not beautiful. He never understood why they called Grandma beautiful, she was quite the opposite. Maybe it was her inner beauty they were referring to.

Grandma stood up and stared forcefully at her audience.

“Go and put up your tent,” Grandma announced,” and sleep well tonight children, tomorrow your lessons start.”

With that final announcement, Grandma walked slowly back into the cottage and slowly closed the door behind her.

Outside, the parents looked at each other. When they were in the presence of Grandma they all had perpetual smiles on their faces, everyone looking as if it was the morning of their birthday, with them opening the new presents and being delighted with what they had unwrapped. But now Grandma was back into the cottage, the smiles had disappeared. Their shoulders were slumped and expressions of worry and sadness dominated their faces.

“Come now,” said Elis rather pompously. “We must put on a brave face. The days will soon pass.”

“Yes, and one child will stay,” replied Dafydd rather sadly.

There was a pause, they remained deep in thought.

“Let us make the tent, it is getting late and we need to retire soon,” commanded Elis. Secretly he was rather enjoying being the leader, as at home in his village of Twig Worth he was the baker, and had a rather lowly standing.

They began to construct the tent, a large octagonally shaped structure that Grandma kept specially for the occasion. It was their new home for the visitors to stay in for the week. Once it was up they put in the bedding and belongings that they’d brought in their rucksacks. It was dusk by the time they’d finished and they retired to their beds, in apprehensive expectation. All the children were rather excited, especially Alys, who she felt had managed to get a special bond already with Anghenfil. That night, none of the parents got much sleep.

Back in the cottage Anghenfil was eating his supper. Grandma slowly moved her head and looked at him with a smile.

“So, you’ve chosen one already have you?” Grandma asked slyly.

“Yes, Grandma,” Anghenfil replied somewhat surprised. “How could you tell?”

“Oh I could tell by the smile on your face. And the skip in your walk. Tell me, is it Iwan, he’s a fine big boned boy,” she asked eagerly.

“No Grandma, I don’t think he’ll be much use climbing trees and making dens with me. But I rather like Alys.”

Grandma paused and grew deep in thought.

Anghenfil grew apprehensive. 

“Is that alright Grandma? Have I made the right choice?” he asked with a worried tone.

“That is fine my boy, the choice, who ever it is, is purely your choice, you mustn’t let me influence you,” she answered.

“However, having said that,” she replied slowly, “we will have to make sure she is fed well and give her lots and lots of treats to keep up her strength, if she is to play with you for ten weeks!”

At this Anghenfil was pleased. Grandma was so kind and understanding.

Chapter 4

Alys woke early the next day. Truth be told she didn’t sleep well. At home in Long Ford she had her own bedroom, and a beautifully comfortable bed. Here in the tent she slept on a thin layer of straw and a blanket. She wasn’t too cold in the night, but what kept her from staying asleep was the snoring of the other visitors. Just as she would drop off, someone would gasp and snort, and hey presto, she was wide awake again.

Just as the sun was rising and she could see where she was going, she decided to get up and go for a walk and get some air. With a bit of luck perhaps she would run into Anghenfil and could get to know him better. She so wanted to be chosen as his new best friend for the next few weeks.

She quietly got dressed and looked down at Cai, her father. Well, not actually her father, he had died a few years back in a farming accident, falling into a slurry pit and drowning in cow manure. No, this man was her stepfather, who her mother married so that they were looked after and didn’t have to live in poverty. All the same, she was quite fond of him. He was generous and treated them both well, but she of course still missed and wanted her real father back. But that would never happen and it made her feel sad, especially when her mother wasn’t around to comfort her. 

After quickly taking her usual dose of medicine she moved over to the tent flap and poked her head through. All was quite peaceful in the glade, the birds were not yet waking up and breaking into bird-song, and the grass had that dew dampness that stuck to ones bare foot. Alys moved through the tent flap and stood outside. 

It's going to be a lovely day she thought and so decided to go for a short walk around the perimeter of the glade. She and the other visitors were forbidden to leave the glade, and she was an obedient girl and would never disobey any of her elders.

After a few yards, she felt a sense of unease. A shiver ran down her back and she trembled ever so lightly. Someone was watching her. She turned slowly and there, too close for comfort, was their host Heledd. She had not seen her since yesterday, but even now, first thing in the morning, Heledd was still as beautiful. Tall and elegant, with long dark hair flowing over her shoulders and the most piercing bright blue eyes. Her lips were ruby-red, and she had on the most wonderful silk red dress, with a lamb wool red shawl. Her skin was looked so soft and perfect, like a peach, that Alys just could not help but drink in her wonderfulness. 

Some day I want to be as beautiful as her, she thought.

“Good morning Heledd,” Alys said.

“Good morning Alys,” Heledd replied softly, “You are up bright and early today.”

“Yes ma’am, I couldn’t sleep, I’m so keen to start the lessons,” Alys replied.

“Um, are you indeed,” Heledd replied, not at all convinced.

“You know what they say,” Heledd added, “the early bird gets the worm.”

Alys giggled nervously and nodded.

“Is that what you want Alys, Anghenfil my grandson to be your little wriggly worm?” Heledd asked.

Alys did not know what to say to this and stared nervously down at the ground. Replying with what she hoped was a safe reply, she answered, 

“Ma’am, I’d love to be his friend.”

“I expect you would, yes indeed I expect you would,” Heledd said.

With that Heledd strode off but turned back after a few steps to face Alys.

“Alys, perhaps you should go back to the tent until the birds start the morning chorus, it is rather chilly out here,” she stated.

“Yes ma’am, straight away,” Alys responded timidly.

With that Heledd walked and disappeared into the cottage and Alys decided that yes, the tent would be a better place to stay until the others wake.

After about an hour, people in the tent began to wake up and get ready for the day. Alys’s curiosity had been triggered by her encounter with Heledd. When her step-father had fully awakened, she asked,

“Father, why do Heledd and Anghenfil live out here in the woods?”

“Shhh, quiet child, it is not to be spoken about,” Cai replied curtly.

“But surely there is no harm …” she began to reply.

“Alys please shut-up, we can’t talk about it. She’ll hear us and punish us,” he answered and then proceeded to walk away to the far edge of the tent and engage in conversion with Dafydd, the tall gaunt looking parent.

Elis, the baker, had meanwhile noticed Alys and her father’s disagreement, and gestured to her to come closer. He loved to gossip. He was always gossiping at work, especially with the customers and and was generally perceived as a trouble maker. He was generally unliked by everyone, especially as he was so sycophantic to his village elders.

“Some say she a Princess from the Old Kingdom up north, others say she is of noble birth turned to be a servant of the dark arts,” he replied softly. “Apparently many years ago, she was engaged to be married but did some wicked deed to her new husband on their wedding night. Some say she murdered him. Others say she turned him into a cock-roach.”

Alys  sat up straight, suddenly very interested.

“But others say that that the Princess talk is all nonsense and that she’s just a beautiful medicine woman. She has extensive knowledge of herbs, medicines and potions, as you know. Who knows what she gave her husband. But whatever she did, her people imprisoned and at her trial sentenced her to be banished. She ended up here in Gloucester Shire. The people of the Shire learnt of her alleged crimes and asked her not to enter the villages, for our womenfolk are afraid her beauty will steal their husbands hearts. As you see she is very beautiful indeed. So several years ago, they set her to stay in the glade and said they would supply her with all her needs, including children to teach, as long as she supplies them with medicines they need.”

Alys was intrigued. 

“But why does she stay here, she could easily go and start a new life elsewhere,” Alys asked.

“Nobody knows,” Elis replied. “All we know is that every season we must send several children here, otherwise she threatens deadly revenge. We heard tale of another village that defied her. They are still suffering the consequences to this day. Truth told, this had become a tradition with our village. Best just to go along with it all, as we don’t want to upset her and knock the cat off the fence, if you see what I mean.”

Not really, Alys thought, but suddenly became more than a little in awe of Heledd.

Later on Anghenfil came out with the breakfast, and handed out the bowls of thick porridge and everyone ate their fill. He gave Alys a little bit more porridge than everyone else. He hoped she’d notice.

Then the lessons began.

Heledd stood at the  centre of the glade, with the children circled around her. She began by listing out the various herbs, starting with amaranth for insomnia, and others such as heather for coughs, and witch hazels for burns. One herb she forbade to be touched was yellow-blue-red dock.

“Never consume or in any way touch yellow-blue-red dock,” she exclaimed, “for those that do will surely die.”

Everybody gasped at this and inwardly swore to themselves that they would never touch the yellow-blue-red dock herb.

Lunch, dinner and bed pretty much followed the same over the coming days. The routine would remain the same, they’d get up, have breakfast, attend lessons, have lunch then an hours play, have afternoons lessons, dinner and then early bed. Even the parents were exhausted at the end of the day, and all they had to do was listen and didn’t get involved in any of the exercises.

Then came the last day. It was the last lesson in the afternoon. Anghenfil would soon announce who he wanted to stay and be his best friend of the next ten weeks. Alys prayed and hoped it would be her. Though they never spoke to each other, as Heledd forbid it, she felt she would be selected as she made an extra special attempt to catch his eye when she could and give him big smiles. He in turn would smile back, which she took as a good sign.

At the end of the last lesson, Heledd instructed the children to tidy up the work area, including left over and spilt herbs. This they duly did and then sat down in the centre of the glade to listen to the closing speech by Heledd.

“Children, and parents of course,” she smiled. “You have all done very well. We come to the end of your lessons and tomorrow morning you shall take back with you some prepared lotions and liquors to help your villages remain healthy over the next few months. I hope that …” she paused and stopped talking. Her eyes narrowed into slits and her mouth became thin lines. 

“Iwan, what have you done!” she shouted. Everyone turned to Iwan. He was transfixed and staring at Heledd. His eyes bulged, his face was red, his tongue stuck out and he was dribbling and foaming at the mouth. All the while is was gesticulating at Heledd, mumbling incoherently. In his other hand was a small bag of yellow-blue-red dock, its contents spilt onto the grass. Some of it touching his bare legs.

Quickly Heledd reached into her pocket and brought out a small hessian bag. She quickly ran to the centre of the glade and cast powder from the bag into the air, spiralling round and round like a ballerina as she spread the powder. 

“Sleep and forget, sleep and forget,” she chanted. Soon everyone was covered with a fine film of powder and had all breathed it in. They all slumped forward and quickly fell into a deep sleep, including Anghenfil. Heledd stared at everyone and removed a sharp hairpin from her hair. She walked quickly round to everyone in turn, and pricked them with the hairpin. Luckily for them nobody was pretending to be asleep. Presently she was satisfied and went inside the cottage to make her preparations for Iwan and his father.

Sometime later Iwan woke. He tried to move but found himself tied to a chair by his feet and hands. His eyes opened wide in horror as he stared at the hideous sight in front of him. An old wrinkled hag sat at a black cooking pot, stirring it continuously. She stared back at him with contempt.

“Iwan, I am disappointed with you. I told you not to touch the yellow-blue-red dock. It removes my red dress disguise and you see the real me. Not a pretty sight, eh boy!” she cackled.

“I told you all at the beginning, pay attention to what I say or pay the price. And pay the price you shall. With your flesh. Into the pot you will go my lovely fat boy. Into the pot. We’ll surely get a months worth of dripping off of you. I shall cut you up, and cover you in salt. You’ll do well for our winter feed.”

Grandma picked up a paring knife and moved slowly towards Iwan, as he shook his head in in sheer fright and struggled to get from the chair.

“Come now Iwan, please don’t struggle, you’ll fall over in the chair and hurt yourself, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” she said and then looked down behind Iwan and smiled. 

“Your father certainly didn’t feel any pain,” she said.

“But thinking some more about it, he was in a deep sleep at the time,” she added with a wry smile on her face.

Iwan strained his neck around and trembled, as behind him was the dismembered parts of his father, lying in a neat heap, with his father’s head neatly placed on top of the pile. It wore a peaceful expression, perhaps even a hint of a smile.

Grandma picked up a dismembered foot still in its shoe and sock from the pile of body parts. She undid the laces carefully, all the while staring and smiling at Iwan. Then she removed the sock with a big flourish, “Hey presto!” she exclaimed. She dropped the bare foot into the cooking pot, which sank with a loud plopping noise. She smiled at Iwan.

“Iwan, my dear boy, one foot forward, come and join your dear father,” she said. She gave a long cackle and then raised her hand with the knife high above her head.The last thing Iwan saw was the old hags expression turn into a snarl, as she brought the knife down upon him.

The next day everyone woke with a headache. Alys was the first to notice that Iwan and his father was missing and mentioned it to Cai.

“Oh no!” he exclaimed and became very pale, and sat back onto his bed, clearly shocked.

At the ending ceremony, Heledd spoke.

“My friends, indeed I think of you now as my friends,” she smiled falsely. “Iwan and his father have had to return early due to family illness. But we wish them all the best and will definitely have them attend our next feast. A clap in their honour I think.”

Everyone clapped accordingly and very politely, except for Alys’s father, who had gone very pale.

“Father are you ok?” asked Alys quietly.

“They had no reason to return early, Iwan was hoping to be chosen as Anghenfil’s new friend. They are very poor and not feeding Iwan for a few weeks would help their situation. Besides there was just the two of them, they had no other family. No it’s as I feared, there’s much thats not right here, your mother was correct. I only hope she will forgive me,” he said.

Alys did not think her father was right, but even so had a slight sense of foreboding about things about to come.

Heledd held up her hand for silence.

“Your attention please everyone. It is now the time for Anghenfil to announce who he wants to be his best friend for the next ten weeks. Or as he likes to call them his ‘besty’.”

Everyone laughed, except for Anghenfil, who was always embarrassed when she said that.

He stood up. He was always nervous at this point, public speaking petrified him. He would keep it very short.

“Gentlefolk, I wish Alys to be my besty.”

There was a pause, as everyone expected more of a speech. When it was clear that was the length of the speech, everyone let out a sign of relief and clapped most enthusiastically. Except of course Cai. He held his face in his hand and weeped quickly.

“What’s the matter, father,” she said. “Why do you weep, I’ll be home in a few weeks.”

“Yes my dear, of course,” he replied.

They sat together listening to some more end speeches, whilst he held her hand tightly. 

Chapter 5

Early next morning, before the sun had fully risen, the children and parents were getting ready to depart. Except for poor Alys, who said a tearful farewell to Cai. He remained very upset and obviously wanted to tell her something, but Heledd kept them under a watchful eye.

His opportunity to talk to Alys came when Heledd had to quickly go inside the cottage to fetch a lotion that she had forgotten to give the visitors. When she had gone inside he nudged Alys and quickly whispered,

“The children don’t come back!”

“What do you mean father, they’re going home today,” Alys replied.

“Not those children, the child that is left in the care of Heledd, they never return to their villages after ten weeks, they disappear,” he answered.

“Father,” she said in exasperation. “I know that, Heledd says they often go onto a school or another medicine woman to expand their knowledge and become expert.”

“Thats what she wants you to think, but your mother has done some investigation, she can’t find a trace of any child having gone on to any school from here. Neither can she find any village that has taken in a new child. At least not in this County. Oh why did I dismiss her findings so readily. Something is not right. Alys you must escape as soon as you can! Escape and run far away from Gloucester Shire,” he replied in anguish.

Alys did not know what to say, she’d never seen him act like this before.

“Please!” he begged, after seeing the look of surprise and puzzlement in her face.

“Father, if you are so concerned, why don’t we go back to our hamlet now. I don’t want to upset you by staying if that is not what you want,” she said.

“We can’t,” he replied miserably. “You know if we do that our whole family gets banished.”

She remembered the rules all the village committees had drawn up, including the hamlet of Long Ford, her home. It was made very clear to them when they drew straws. She had no option but to stay. At least for now.

The cottage door swung open with an almighty creak and bang. Somehow Heledd knew what was being discussed. 

Perhaps she has the skill of lip-reading Alys thought. 

Heledd strode back out of the cottage and glared at Cai. 

“Time for you all to depart. Now!” she announced. 

A few minutes later Heledd, Anghenfil and Alys watched the parents and children walk up the path into the forest.

Then they were gone. Alys was suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of loneliness and abandonment. She stood there, with her head down, fighting back the tears.

“Come Alys, I know it’s difficult, suddenly being alone with people you barely know. I think a small sweet celebratory drink is in order,” Heledd said, as she gave them a tin cup each. She poured a small amount into each cup and toasted,

“Here is to a successful ten weeks and a great future career in medicine for Alys!”

Anghenfil and Alys took a little sip.

“Heledd…”

“Yes my darling child? What is it?”

“Heledd, would you mind awfully if I didn’t stay here the full ten weeks? I’m sure, if you agree, the village committee will be ok with that and not punish my family,” Alys asked earnestly.

Heledd stared back with a blank expression and unblinking eyes.

I shouldn’t have asked, I’ve a bad feeling about this, Alys thought. 

A shiver ran down the back of her neck, but she shrugged it off. Heledd was beautiful and Anghenfil was friendly, what had she to worry about. Get a grip on yourself she thought.

“Oh I’m sure that will be fine, my dear child,” Heledd replied somewhat frostily.

Somewhat relieved, Alys asked,

“Are you not drinking ma’am?” 

“No my dear, not yet, soon, quite soon,” she replied.

Anghenfil and Alys drank their fill from the small tin cups.

“Sit down for a moment my dears,” Heledd said after they had drunk.

They both sat down on the grass, whilst Heledd started counting.

“One, two, three, four, five…”

She didn’t need to get to six. Both Anghenfil and Alys were slumped forward, fast asleep, drugged by the potion Heledd had given them.

Much later when Alys awoke she found herself in a small bedroom. It was sparsely furnished and had a small bed, small table, chair, wash-basin and a toilet in the corner. There was only one doorway in, but there had been a doorway at the rear wall, but this had been bricked in. The small window at the back was boarded in. The walls were whitewashed, but the lime was peeling off, exposing the bare stonework underneath. The only light came from a small oil lamp, that mostly seemed to cast shadows over the bed and sparse furniture. The ceiling was old and water damaged, and sections had dropped off. If she squinted hard, she could see above through the ceiling wattle to the exterior slate roof.

She had a terrible headache and a very dry mouth. Over to the one side she spotted a tin jug of water and poured some into a small glass. She drank thirstily and sat back down on the bed. She was puzzled. The last thing she remembered is standing outside in the glade, doing a toast with Heledd and Anghenfil. How did she get here? She became frightened but also angry. She remembered her fathers words about escape and strode forcefully to the bedroom door and tried the handle. It was locked and bolted from the other side. She looked around the room in panic to see if there was another exit. There wasn’t. Overcome with emotion, she collapsed onto the bed and started quietly crying.

Chapter 6

Anghenfil meanwhile had also woken up on his bed, with his usual small headache, he was getting tolerant to the sleeping potions. He had no idea why he always woke up groggy with a small headache. He never gave it any thought and in fact he was mostly happy and joyous, especially today when he would start playing with Alys, his new besty. He strode out of his bedroom and went into the kitchen, and saw Grandma at her pot stirring.

“Grandma, where’s Alys? I want to play with her now,” he asked.

“Oh, she will be outside in the glade in ten minutes, go wash and then go out,” Grandma replied.

After washing Anghenfil looked for Grandma but couldn’t find her, so went over to the front door and opened it. There in the centre of the glade was Alys, she was smiling and gesturing him over. She looked a bit different he thought. She seems slightly shorter and there’s a shimmer through her dress. Must be the angle of the morning light shining on her. It was a lovely dress, and the blue lambs wool shawl she wore with it was lovely too. Probably new, he thought, and was secretly pleased she would wear a new dress and shawl for her first day of play with him. 

He gave a little skip and ran over to her and she grabbed his hand and they ran off to play.

“Lets make a den!”  he exclaimed to her. 

Alys nodded yes.

Together they put up a den of branches and leaves. Truth be told he had done all of the work, Alys just stood there. Funny he thought, all my friends leave me to do the work. But I don’t mind, he thought. They’re the guest and I’m the host, thats how it is. 

After a day of playing in the den, playing tag, and hide and seek Anghenfil was very tired. It turns out Alys was very good at hiding and sometimes it took him ages to find her. At the end of the day Alys strangely was still fresh as a daisy, and her dress and shawl was as clean as when they started playing. Girls are so fragrant and fresh he thought. Well except Grandma. She really does smell horrible, like cow manure but not as nice. Sometimes he would even catch a hint of Grandma’s smell when playing.

He quickly struck the thought out of his head, he was being disrespectful.“Let’s go back now Alys,” Anghenfil said.

“Of course my dear,” Alys replied.

What an odd thing to say, thought Anghenfil, only Grandma calls me my dear. They walked back to the centre of the glade but Anghenfil alone walked further to the front door of the cottage.

“Come on Alys, let's go in,” he shouted back to her and waved.

“I’ll be there shortly,” Alys replied with a big smile, but stayed at the centre of the glade.

Anghenfil went in and went to find Grandma. She wasn’t there, so he went to his room to wash before dinner. After washing he went back into the kitchen and Grandma was back stirring her stew.

“Grandma, I’m back, Alys will be in shortly,” he told her.

She peered back at him and said with a leer,

“Of course she will my dear.”

Anghenfil was starving, playing with his friends always made him very hungry. Grandma told him to carry on with his food, she would feed Alys later.

“The girl has different meal needs,” she told him.

He had no idea what she meant and shrugged his shoulders. 

“Grandma, can I say goodnight to Alys?” he asked later.

“No my dear I expect she is very tired after all your play, time for bed for you now. Don’t worry, you’ll see her again tomorrow in the glade, she will be waiting,” Grandma replied.

He was reassured at this and went off to bed, happy and content. He drank his goats milk that Grandma had given him earlier and thought life is good. 

“Life is very very good,” he said dreamingly, just as he was dropping off to sleep. 

Meanwhile, Grandma stood outside his door listening, nodded to herself in agreement.

“Oh yes, life is good, very good. And very tasty,” she cackled to herself and shuffled back to the kitchen to her pot and her oven.

She opened up the oven door and brought out some freshly baked cup cakes, that smelt absolutely divine. They were orange in colour, with red icing and blue sprinkles on top. She also brought out a delicious pie, made with fresh lamb mince, buttered mash potatoes, and a crispy cheese topping. As a side there was a small bowl of French beans, covered with melted goats butter. A large drinking glass was filled with sweet sugared sparkling lemonade. All this was put onto a large tray and taken to Alys bedroom.

Grandma knocked on the door. 

“Alys my dear. Stand and face the rear wall, with your arms spread and palms touching the wall. On no account look back,” Grandma commanded.

There was no answer for a minute. Blast this tray she thought, it’s getting heavy, so placed the tray on the floor and knocked again.

The first knock had woken Alys up, but she had missed the instruction Grandma had given and was confused. Again Grandma gave the same instruction.

Alys was puzzled. What is going on here, why do I need to stand by the wall.

“Heledd, please let me out,” she pleaded.

Grandma looked through a peep hole in the door and repeated her instruction.

Alys got up from the bed and went to the wall and stood as instructed. Upon seeing Alys had done as she was told, Grandma unbolted and unlocked the door, and slid the tray in with her feet. But just as she was closing the door, Alys turned round and saw her. She was expecting to see Heledd, but instead saw a hideous hunched hag, wrinkled and ugly with a huge beaked nose, thin lips and dark beady eyes. Grandma had made a mistake not using her Heledd disguise when bringing the food. 

Alys screamed.

“Oh why do they always scream,” Grandma muttered. “I really can’t put on the red shawl all the time, just to disguise myself for any Tom, Dick or Harry. Or Alys.”

Quickly she banged the door shut and bolted and locked it. She know Anghenfil would not wake up until the morning, but all the same they really shouldn’t scream like that.

It hurts my ears, she thought.

Inside the bedroom, Alys was looking with horror at the closed door. She ran over to it, kicking over the tray of food as she went. She knocked and banged loudly on the door.

“Wait, wait, I need my medicine, I’ll die without it! Let me out! Let me out! I don’t want to be here anymore, I don’t want to play!” she shouted, and collapsed into a heap onto the floor with her back against the door, her legs covered with spilt drink and food, and her head bowed forward, quietly sobbing.

Chapter 7

Despite the sun shining brightly, the birds singing and the air smelling sweet, most of the villagers were very glum. They missed Alys terribly, and it was only a few hours since they had left her. It was always hard when a child was left with Heledd, somehow it just didn’t feel right. Heledd told them the child would be looked after and would go onto to help other villagers with knowledge of medicines and potions, but still. It just didn’t feel right.

Alys’s father Cai was the saddest of them all. He knew it was always a possibility Alys could be the chosen one, but now it had happened he felt really bad about it. He was overcome with a sense of dread at having to telling his wife her daughter had stayed on with Heledd and wouldn’t be coming back to Long Ford anytime soon. She said all along they couldn’t take the risk, but they had no choice. They had drawn the short straw. Slowly he walked behind all the others as he was in no hurry to get home.

Elis however felt no sadness. He was leading at the front, talking loudly and making the most of his opportunity of being a leader. Cai did not trust him. There was something secretive and creepy about him. He was mostly all smiles and friendly greetings, but underneath it all there was something very odd about him indeed. Elis’s daughter however seemed a very nice girl, quite normal and outgoing. Except in the presence of her father that is, when she then became quiet and reserved. It was more than that. She seemed to become very careful. Careful in her manner, careful in what she said to other people, and very careful in what and how she spoke to her father. 

Elis dropped back from the front, and walked beside Cai.

“Come now, Cai,” Elis said. ”Don’t be too glum. The weeks will soon pass and you’ll see your sweet Alys again.”

Cai looked at him with scorn.

“Oh I will will I, you know that for certain do you?” he responded sarcastically, looking at him straight in the face.

I don’t like you, Cai thought. I don’t like your smug little piggy face, your piggy pot belly and your stupid red braces.

“Cai, please. All will be fine, you’ll see. Now cheer up old boy! You’re starting to make us all feel a little depressed!” he pompously replied.

At this Cai got very cross and started to raise his hand in anger when he saw something that stopped him. Ceri was staring at him, shaking her head back and forth just a little.

Why is she so scared of him, Cai thought.

“Listen Cai, here’s a little root of the berry, it’ll help you keep calm,” Elis said, and went back to the front. Cai threw the root into the woods, with distain. 

Cai noticed Ceri looking at him and he gave Ceri a nod of acknowledgement. She smiled back at him.

She reminds me of Alys, Cai thought.

Soon Elis came to a fork in the path.

“Everyone, here we must split up, I and my daughter must take the path to Twig Worth, on the right, everyone else, the path to the left. After three miles you’ll come to the central crossroads, which you all of course know very well, and can easily get home to your villages from there,” he said. Elis and Ceri quickly left, with only a cursory glance goodbye.

Everyone else said their farewells and started along the path, except Cai, who had stopped.

“Carry on everyone, I’ll make my own way back. I need some time to myself,” he told them.

“Yes of course, best wishes and good fortune to you,” said Dafydd. Everyone else concurred and they all gave him a cheery, if half-hearted wave goodbye. 

Cai had actually decided to follow Elis and Ceri. He waited back at he fork in the path for a few minutes to give them both a head start and then started walking.

As Cai walked along the path, he noticed the forest got noticeably darker and more dense. There was less bird song, and the undergrowth to either side of the path was dense and impassable. Suddenly he heard people arguing.

“I didn’t tell them anything, I promise,” one of the voices said.

“Well my girl, if you did, you know what’ll happen,” the other voice replied.

Cai carefully approached closer, carefully keeping out of sight. It was Elis and Ceri.

“I wouldn’t betray you,” Ceri said pitifully.

“If you did dear, I’ll do to you what I did to your father,” Elis said. “Trust me, he did not die well…”

So Elis is not her father! Then who the heck is he, and who is she? Cai wondered.

“Furthermore Ceri, let me warn you that…” Elis began to say but stopped.

Ceri looked back at him, waiting.

“Elis? What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Oh nothing child. Come on let’s get a move on,” he muttered quietly.

They started walking again, and Cai followed them, dropping back a little distance, but being very careful to keep them in his sight.

I always knew something was not quite right with Elis, he thought, now I am certain.

After several miles of following them, Elis and Ceri stopped and sat on an old oak log that was at the side of the path. Ceri pulled out some dried berry fruits and started munching on them absentmindedly. Elis meanwhile just sat there, looking straight across the path into the deep forest beyond.

“My dear, I need to take a break, can you hang on here for a little while,” he asked Ceri.

“Yes, sure, take your time,” she answered him.

Cai waited a few moments until Elis had disappeared into the woods, and then moved closer to Ceri.

“Pssst” he signalled. No reply from Ceri, she did not notice him.

“PSSSST” he signalled again. She looked up and her eyes went wide.

“What are you doing here! You must go now, before he gets back,” she said.

“I need to talk to you. Is that man not your father? Who is he then?” he asked.

“I can’t tell you anything, he would hurt me, please leave now or we’ll both be in trouble,” she pleaded.

“I can handle him, no problem, tell me why is he pretending to be your father?” he asked again.

“I didn’t say anything, I didn’t say anything,” Ceri blurted out, wide eyed and scared. Elis had creeped up from the forest and approached Cai from behind.

Cai started to turn around but before he could see his assailant, Elis brought down a large chunk of wood onto the back of Cai’s head. Cai fell into a crumpled pile.

Elis looked down at Cai then slowly raised his head, and stared intently at Ceri.

“If you’ve told him anything, you know what I must do, to both of you!” he said.

“Please, Elis, I said nothing!” she said.

He moved his face directly up to hers, and stared deep into her eyes, as if he was examining her brain. He squinted his eyes for a moment, and pulled back, satisfied.

“I believe you, pass me that small stick on the ground,” he commanded.

Ceri bent over and picked up a small blunt twig that was lying on the ground and passed it to him.

Elis took it and bent down to the unconscious Cai. From his pocket he took out a small hessian bag. Reaching in, he pulled out of it a small white coloured stone. He then got his other hand and gently forced Cai mouth apart. With one stubby fat finger he pushed the stone right back in Cai’s throat.

“May someone close to you suffer for your foolishness,” he chanted for several minutes.

It was sometime later before Cai awoke. His head hurt and  he was damp, dirty and cold from having lain in the path for several hours. There was something in his mouth, he reached in and with disgust pulled out a small black stone. He threw it to one side. He reached behind his head, and felt the bump where he was hit. His fingers went moist and upon examination he saw them covered in blood. His head wound was a bad one, he would need to get home quickly to get attended. No way could he carry on along the path to Elis’s village now.

He suddenly noticed something daubed onto his arm.

“Mind Business. Go Home. Surprise!” was dabbed in dried blood from his head.

He felt angry. He’d go home alright. But Elis would pay for this, he felt darned sure. Staggering upright Cai started back along the path towards the fork. After a short while he reached it and started along the path that lead to the crossroads and hence to the hamlet of Long Ford. As he walked, his head cleared and he got into his stride. Soon he was back at his hamlet and with a sense of relief he went straight to the local pond, and ducked his head into the cool refreshing water. After several minutes he felt much better, and made himself presentable.

Suddenly a group of villagers came up to him, and looked at him with sorrow in her eyes.

“Cai, one of the other returning villagers from the glade passed through on the way to their home,” she said.

“I’m so sorry Cai, so sorry,” she added.

“Thank you, I’m sure the ten weeks will go by quickly and Alys will be back amongst us quite soon,” he answered, trying to sound convinced.

“No, Cai, you don’t understand. Please sit down, we have something to tell you,” she said.

“As I mentioned, a little while back one of the other villagers mentioned about Alys being the chosen one. Word got back to your wife. I’m afraid she became very distraught indeed.”

“Distraught, is she alright? Where is she, I must go and see her,” he asked.

“I’m sorry Cai. She ran down the street in hysterics, we tried to hold her back but we couldn’t. Then she sort of stopped, there was a strong gust of wind that seemed to twirl her around, and then…Cai, she died.”

Cai stood there silently in a state of shock. When it had truly sunk in as to what he was being told, he ran quickly up the street to where his wife lay. She was on her back on the side of the street. Someone had put a blanket over her and a pillow under her head. Cai gently picked her up and slowly walked back to their home.

For the next ten days, Cai and his friends mourned the loss of his wife. Every day Cai would get up, dress in black and stay by her side. He told her she was right all along, and he begged her forgiveness. He promised to get Alys back soon. But he knew his words came too late.

Finally the day of the funeral arrived. Cai, his friends and family all stood in a circle as she was laid to rest. He stared blankly as she was gently lowered down into her grave.

I’ll get revenge on who did this, this is not a natural death, he thought.

Immediately after the funeral Cai went back to his house, and changed out of his funeral clothes. He loaded up his rucksack with food, drink and clothing and then strode purposefully up the street, towards the Dark Forest. On the way, he passed one of his friends, who greeted him, and then looked at him in surprise.

“Cai, where are you going in such haste?”

“To get my daughter back,” he answered.

Chapter 8

Alys sat on the edge of the bed, days had passed. She wasn’t sure how many, at least a week she thought. The routine was always the same. The old woman would knock on the door early in the morning, midday and late in the evening, command her to move away and to stand by the back wall. She no longer bothered asking her to keep turned around and face the wall, as Alys had now seen who was keeping her locked up.

Alys was puzzled, and did not know who the old woman was. She kept asking for Heledd, but when she did, the old woman chuckled inanely to herself. Alys thought perhaps the hag was the cook, as she kept bringing the food. Whatever else she was, the hag was a darned good cook.

Breakfast was either porridge, smothered with syrup and sultanas and a large cup of sugared coffee. Alternatively there was bacon, eggs, fried bread, fried beans, fried sausages and lots of toast. Lunch could be ham and eggs with fried potatoes, or maybe a meat pie and pickle and cheese. The evening meal was also delicious, such as steak and French fries, with fried mushrooms and onions, or maybe a large piece of chicken smothered in a stilton cheese sauce with buttered vegetable accompaniment. Plus of course the obligatory cakes or sweet pastries afterwards, and lashings of sweet fizzy drinks. Whatever else her predicament Alys did not go hungry.

After a week of this, Alys decided on a plan, she could not stay here forever. She was concerned about not being able to take her medicine, and besides, she was starting to gain weight and was starting to look a little plump. She asked the old woman several times for her medicine, but was told it was missing, perhaps one of the other children took it when they returned home. Admittedly, Alys had no ill symptoms from not taking the medicine, perhaps all this rich food she was eating compensated instead. The old woman didn’t seem too concerned about the missing medicine, in fact, she was quite dismissive about it.

Alys looked up at the ceiling and the missing plaster, that exposed the underlying wattle. She could just about see through and spot the slate tiles. She knew she could probably displace the tiles if she managed to get up there, and perhaps squeeze through onto the roof and out to freedom. But she’d better make it soon, before she got too fat with all the rich food she was being fed. So during the day, when all seemed quiet in the cottage, Alys broke off more of the plaster with a long broom handle that she had found, until she exposed a large enough area of wattle. She poked and broke apart the wattle wooden sticks, they were brittle with age and broke easily. Luckily the hole she had now made was part of the ceiling behind the door as it opened, so unless the old woman came right in, and looked upwards. she could not see the gaping hole. The debris from the hole Alys hid under the mattress. Finally, after much work, the hole was big enough for her to get through. She dragged the bedroom wash table across to sit under the ceiling hole and prepared herself to climb up.

Chapter 9

During the week, Anghenfil had a great time playing with whom he thought was Alys. On one occasion he decided to climb the giant knotted tree. This was a famous tree, known throughout the county. It was very old, twisted, with long spidery branches and a hunched over snarled look. Anghenfil used to like to climb it with all his friends, he considered it a badge of honour for himself and his bestys.

“Come on Alys,” he shouted back to her. “Follow me,” He proceeded to climb onto the lowest branch and quickly climbed up through the tree until he was three quarters up. Although he had climbed the tree many a time, he had never quite got this far, it was his lucky day, and he was very pleased. He also could not resist showing off and waving down to Alys.

“Come up scaredy cat, climb as high as me, or are you too yellow, scaredy cat, scaredy cat,” he taunted.

“I’m coming up,” Alys barked back in quite a stern tone.

Anghenfil hung close to his branch and watched Alys climb slowly up. She wasn’t very good, boys are so much better at climbing trees than girls, he thought to himself. Although he would never say that out loud to a girl, he considered himself to be a gentleman. Also, perhaps thats not true, he thought later, I’m sure there are lots of girls good at climbing trees, as good as or better than boys. Just not Alys.

Up the tree, Alys climbed, further and further, but struggled more and more the higher she got. She was almost as high as Anghenfil, and just had to manoeuvre herself a little to the left and grab that small branch that was protruding out. She held it firmly, pulled back on it to pull herself up, when it broke with an almighty snap.

She yelled loudly as she fell from the tree and landed with a loud thud onto the forest floor below. She did not move.

“Alys, Alys!” Anghenfil shouted, and quickly started to come back down the tree. He looked down and Alys was deathly still. He feared the worst and panicked.

“Please let her be ok,” he repeated to himself. “Please please please.”

Just as he was almost at the bottom he looked down at her again and froze. Alys was no longer there. Instead he saw his grandmother where previously Alys was lying few moments before. He paused his descent and looked in amazement, dumb-founded at what he saw. How on earth can Grandma be lying there, instead of Alys, he questioned to himself. Anghenfil carried on climbing down and a minute later he was down at the bottom. He jumped the last foot and hurried to where his grandmother lay. Only it was not his grandmother, it was now Alys again, and she had sat up.

“What’s the matter, Anghenfil my dear? It was a bit of a fall but I’m ok now. No bones broken,” she said.

Anghenfil was stunned and very confused. 

“OK that’s good Gran… I mean Alys,” he said and proceeded to sit quietly down by the base of the tree, staring puzzlingly up at Alys, who had recovered sufficiently to stand up.

“Come on,” she said. ”Lets make our way back to the cottage.”

Back at the cottage Alys let Anghenfil carry on walking to the door.

“I’m just going to the well to get some water and clean up, I’ve scuffed my dress,” she said. “I’ll see you later or tomorrow.”

Anghenfil nodded ok, he was much too exhausted to wonder much why he never saw Alys inside the cottage with his Grandma, previously him and his friends also played inside, and ate together. This time it was different, and he wasn’t sure why.

Chapter 10

The real Alys waited until her evening meal plates had been collected. Unusually she had eaten every last scrap of food that was given to her, as once she escaped she would not know when she would eat again. 

Gingerly she went to the door and placed her ear against it. She strained to hear anything, all was quiet except for what sounded like a ticking clock, scratchings in the roof and the sound of a spoon scraping against a metal bowl or pot. These were the usual sounds at night, except sometimes she would hear the snoring of somebody elsewhere in the cottage, she assumed it was Anghenfil, in a very deep sleep. For the first few nights she shouted to try and wake him up, but that didn’t work. Also she had to stop shouting, as the old hag would charge into the room holding a long curved ladle in her hand and threaten to beat her with it.

She climbed slowly and carefully onto the washing table and stood up straight. The table wobbled and she almost fell off but managed to get her balance. She reached up to the ceiling hole, but was too far away from it. She needed at least another two feet in height to be able to poke her head through the hole and lever herself up through it with her elbows. She looked around the room and decided to use the wooden chair in the corner, then she could use the bed to climb straight onto the chair.

She pulled the bed towards the table. There was an almighty scraping sound from its metal legs. Panicked, she run to the door and again listened out. There was the usual tick-tock of a clock and roof scratching noises, but the spoon scraping sound had stopped. Probably nothing she thought. She went back to her bed and put the blankets under the bed legs, so when she moved the bed, the legs scrapped across the blanket, not the floor. Once in position, she climbed onto the bed, and straight onto the chair. She put her arms through the hole and levered herself through and with a little push from her legs and arms she was through and into the little loft space above her room.

She breathed a large sign of relief.

Almost there, she thought to herself.

Sliding some of the roof slates apart was easy enough, the nails that held them down rusted away long ago. She got onto the roof and was relieved to see, as she suspected, she was on the ground floor. It was an easy enough step, using an old barrel that was against the wall, to step down off the short roof onto  the ground.

She paused for a moment, listening very carefully. No sound. She was clear and free! She crouched down and made her way gingerly around the outside of the cottage and headed out towards the forest path. 

She had just reached the well, when suddenly, she heard “Oh Alys, out for an evening stroll are we my dear?”

Alys turned round and there stood in front of her was Heledd.

“Oh Heledd, thank goodness, I’m so relieved its you, I’ve been held prisoner, please help me,” she pleaded and run up to Heledd grasping her tightly.

“I’m so glad to see you, I’ve had an absolute horrible time,” Alys said.

“There there my dear, everything will be alright you’ll see,” Heledd replied.

As Alys was holding onto Heledd, she smelt something similar to cow manure, but much worse. In fact Heledd emitted the same smell the old hag had.

Alys gasped, slowly undid her grasp and pulled back from Heledd. 

“It’s you, you’re the…”

“Thats right my dear, it is me,” explained Heledd, taking off her red shawl. Suddenly the old hag was there instead of Heledd. She gave Alys a large toothless smile. 

“Do you understand now my dear?” she asked and threw into her face a handful of powder she had taken from a small hessian bag. Alys gasped, struggling hard to not to breathe in the powder, but failed and shortly collapsed onto the ground.

When Alys awoke shortly after, something was very wrong. Her ankles were bound and hurt, and her head felt heavy. Suddenly she realised she was upside down. What’s more, she was upside down and hanging by a rope down into the well.

Alys started screaming and wriggling on the rope, like fish bait on a hook. She looked back up the well to the glint of its opening at the top and saw the old hag peering down at her.

“What’s the matter Alys, not feeling ‘Well’ my dear?” Grandma asked.

Then laughing and cackling away, she dropped the rope that held Alys up.

Alys plummeted with a scream into the cold dark water below and went in head first making a large plopping sound.

What a pity Grandma thought. The girl was just getting nice and plump, a few more weeks and she’s have been just right. I’ll pull her up in a couple of hours and have some of her for a bit of supper. I’ll look forward to that, she thought happily as she hobbled back to the cottage.

Chapter 11

The kitchen table was long and thin. Made of oak many years previously by village craftsmen, it had shown many years service to Grandma. It was of honest design, functional, not ornate or unnecessary in any way. The legs were stout but dented and the table surface was notched and scarred. Dark brown stains were stuck in the numerous crevices, no amount of scrubbing could get these stains out. The table had shown much servility over the years to various kitchen knives, bone saws and hatchets.

It was positioned in the centre of the kitchen, near to the cooking pot. Upon the table lay the body of Alys, still soaked in her wet clothes from the well and still with straggles of rope tied around her ankles. A trail of well water led from the front door to the table. She was deathly pale and still, her head was to one side and her blue glazed eyes stared out to eternity. The side of her throat had a large bloody wound and the blood from it dripped slowly to the floor, making a large red pool.

All was dark and silent in the kitchen. Just the low tick-tock of the clock passed the time. The kitchen fire was almost out, just a few embers giving it life. Over the fire the cast iron pot hung, looking strangely lonely without its owner stirring the contents around and around.

Suddenly there came a groan. Lying under the table was Grandma, who started to writhe in agony. She had blood around her mouth and down her front and was plainly suffering and in much pain. If she didn’t get help soon, she would die.

“Anghenfil, help me, help me,” she cried out weakly. It was early in the morning, it would be a while for Anghenfil to awake and find her. Slowly Grandma wriggled around and got onto her knees. She started to crawl from under the table towards the passageway and Anghenfil’s bedroom door. It took her a long time until she reached it and managed a weak knock.

It was now daylight outside and Anghenfil woke up, happy as usual. He gave a long stretch and groan, another day of fun and play with Alys he thought to himself.

Suddenly he heard a low knocking noise. Wondering what it was he got up and investigated. It came from the other side of his door. How very strange he thought, and reached out and quickly pulled open the door. Through the doorway, Grandma collapsed onto Anghenfil’s bedroom floor.

“Help me child, help me,” she said.

“Grandma, what’s happened? Why is there blood over you?”

“They’ve poisoned me, the villagers have poisoned me!”

“What do you mean, the villagers have poisoned you?” He asked somewhat puzzled.

She screeched loudly in pain.

“It was the late-night snack I ate. I shouldn’t eat late at night, it gives me indigestion…”

She cackled at her own joke and then grimaced in pain.

“Child, I need your help now, or I’ll die!”

“What do I do, tell me what do I need to do Grandma?” he asked.

“You must kiss my cheek, hold your lips against my cheek, now my child. Now!”

Anghenfil looked at her with some distaste. Hold my lips against her cheeks? She has always forbidden me from kissing her in any way, he thought.

Anghenfil reluctantly bent forward and pressed his lips again her wrinkled cheek. Immediately he felt the cold come through to his face, he felt all the warmth and life was getting sucked out of him and into her. He tried to break away but couldn’t. He saw her skin get redder, as if her blood was coming to the surface. He stretched out his hands to push her away, they were pale and getting paler by the second, she was sucking the very life blood out of him.

“No, no more!” he cried, and freed himself from her with an almighty push.

“Anghenfil please, please Anghenfil, please…”

She collapsed on the floor her body turning grey and flaccid.

“Grandma, what is going on, what is the matter with you?” Anghenfil asked.

“They’ve poisoned me. The villagers. They gave the children a medicine that is harmless to humans, but to my kind is lethal. As soon as I bit into Alys’s throat, the poison entered my bloodstream. Unless you give me lots of your life force immediately, I’ll die.”

“I’m sorry Grandma I can’t. I’m frightened,” he replied. He then realised what she had just said.

“What do you mean, bit into Alys’s throat?” he asked with horror.

“I need tender fresh or salted human flesh to survive, preferably children. My kind cannot eat cooked or seasoned meats of any sort,” she weakly answered.

His voice grew loud and angry.

“What about my friends, you harmed them? You harmed Alys? Where is she?”

“She’s is in the kitchen. I’m sorry my dear, but I already told you, we need fresh meat to survive. I ate all your friends,” she said.

There was a short pause as Anghenfil looked at here with terror showing in his face. He knew what she was about to say.

“And then of course, there’s you…” Grandma said.

“Me? What do you mean me?”

“The stews I fed you, the meat was mostly human. Except on a Friday. I always tried to give you fried fish on a Friday. So you’d have a change of diet.”

At this started to quietly cackle to herself. Then she gave a slight jerk, opened her eyes wide, reached out to try and touch him and died.

Oh Grandma what have you done, he thought. What terrible things you’ve done, all my friends, gone forever. I was so happy with my friends.

He cried pitifully, and rocked back and fore to comfort himself, muttering, “You told me there were no monsters, you told me there was no monsters… Am I evil and wicked just like you?”

After a while, he managed to gain some composure and stood up. Life would never be the same he thought. All my friends, I thought they’d gone on to better things, to school, to success, helping their and other villages keep healthy with Grandma’s medicines. All this time my friends were in Grandma’s pot, being made into stew. And I ate them, he thought. Their cooked flesh piled high on my plate.

He thought of Jarrow, his last besty. Of the fun and games they had. Of the jokes and stories and puzzles they played. Of all the good food Jarrow was fed. Of how Jarrow got plump. Suddenly Anghenfil was violently sick all over Grandma’s face, till all that could be seen was her large beaked nose, poking out of the pile of acrid brown vomit.

He slowly moved out of the room and into the kitchen. He saw Alys laid out onto the table and rushed over to her. He started sobbing and crying hysterically. She was his favourite and he had been destined to eat her. He could not comprehend the enormity of it all, and ran to his dark corner, curled up into a ball and sobbed.

Later that evening he went outside and walked around the glade, gathering all the pretty crocus’s and grasses he could find, until he made a small, but colourful bouquet. He went inside and took Alys’s hands and placed the bouquet in them. He gently closed her eyes. He stood there in silence for a while, gazing at her beautiful face, and then went back to his room. He fetched his hair brush and quietly sobbing, brushed her hair until it was nice and neat. Her neck wound he covered with a small handkerchief, and he straightened her dress. After looking at her for a while, he walked outside and got a shovel that was used for cleaning out the goats pen and strode to the centre of the glade.

It took many hours, but eventually he had managed to dig a hole large enough to be Alys’s grave. He was not strong enough to carry her so he got a blanket, laid it out on the kitchen floor, and as gently as he could he laid her out onto it. Then he pulled the blanket with her on it, out of the cottage and onward to the grave. Once he was at the graveside he looked at her one more time, kissed her lightly and gently lowered her in as best he could.

Gently and slowly he used the spade and covered her up with the newly dug up soil, he didn’t want to hurt her, though he knew she was past getting hurt now. He walked and got a large roof slate from the ground near the stone extension. Onto it he scratched her name and a large kiss mark and laid the slate at the head of the grave.

After a while he went back inside and put out the last embers of the kitchen fire with a pail of water. He saw the kitchen pot and got very angry, ran and grabbed it and angrily threw it down into the well. 

He sat on the well wall for a while gathering his thoughts. So Grandma was not human. Am I human? She existed on raw human meat. I eat cooked meats. Why didn’t she eat me? Perhaps I am her kind. Was she really my Grandma? Who am I, or more to the point what am I? A monster like her?

The thoughts went round and round until he could think no more and were hurting his brain. There were no answers available at present. He knew he would have to leave the cottage and find those answers.

With sudden purpose he got up, walked into the cottage and into his room. His grandmother was still lying there, covered in sick. He stood over her and shouted,

“Curse you Grandma, curse you forever!”

From the small wardrobe he fetched a small rucksack and filled it with some clothes and essentials. In the kitchen was some sugar bread and cupcakes, but he decided against taking them and instead just took some apples and berries from the larder.

At least I know where the fruit come from, he thought to himself. 

With a deep breathe, he strode out of the cottage door, through the glade and onto the forest path out.

To the villages, he thought to himself, to the villages and perhaps some answers.

Chapter 12

After Anghenfil has started his journey through the forest towards the villages, a lone set of eyes peered out of the gloom of the forest fringe and looked towards the cottage. The eyes belonged to Elis, the baker, the leader of the parents that had attended during the previous week. Elis strode out of the forest and towards the grave of Alys and looked down upon the newly packed earth. No emotion showed on his face, he nodded a quick acknowledgement to her and her fate. Turning briskly around he went up to the cottage door and listened carefully.  Hearing nothing, he slowly entered through the door and started exploring. 

He soon came across the body of Grandma and smiled broadly to himself. He pulled out a small ornate pocket knife he kept in a leather sheaf on his belt. After a few moments consideration, he nudged her body with foot. Seemingly not satisfied he gave it a harder nudge. Still not satisfied he gave the body of Grandma an almighty kick. He took his knife and cut off some of the hair, and put it away into a small hessian bag. He then got out of his pocket a small glass jar filled with formaldehyde and cut off Grandmas left ear with a jagged sawing motion. He fetched a pestle and mortar from the shelf and ground up the ear into a bloody mess. He then placed it into the jar and gave it a quick stir. After screwing down the lid firmly, he quickly turned, and hurried towards the cottage door and out to the glade. With one last look behind him at the cottage, he followed the path that Anghenfil took, into the forest and towards the villages.

By this time it was dusk and Anghenfil was making rapid progress along the forest trail. The air was still, not a hint of a breeze flowed through the forest trees. It would rain soon, Anghenfil thought, I can feel it in my bones. Ten minutes behind him, Elis thought the very same thing.

Both were right. Suddenly a thunder clap sounded through the sky and seconds later a wall of rain cascaded down from the sky. Neither Elis nor Anghenfil had seen such heavy rain before, it was a sheer blanket of water. A portent of things to come, Anghenfil thought morbidly. He took shelter under a large leafy branch to one side of the path and waited for the rain to subside.

Meanwhile Elis decided to keep on walking, and speeded up his pace. After a few minutes he came to where Anghenfil was sheltering under the tree branch. He did not see Anghenfil, but Anghenfil saw him, and shouted out to him,

“Elis, stop, it's me!”

Elis had no idea who ‘me’ was, as he had never heard Anghenfil speak. He mouth dropped down when he saw who it actually was.

“My boy!” he exclaimed. “It’s so good to see you, what are you doing out here in the woods?”

“Something terrible has happened,” Anghenfil blurted out. “My Grandma is dead.”

Elis didn’t want to give the impression he already knew about Grandma so feigned surprise.

“No, my dear boy, what’s happened?” he asked.

“She’s done terrible things, wicked evil things, I need to see the village elders and explain what has happened,” Anghenfil replied.

“Also,” he added sadly, “Alys my new best friend is dead, killed by Grandma.”

Again Elis had to feign surprise. “No, really? You cannot be serious.”

“Yes, it's all true,” replied Anghenfil, and suddenly could contain himself no longer and burst out into tears.

“My boy, my boy,” Elis pompously said, “everything will be alright, let's walk together to my village, it is the closest. We’ll tell the village elders. Have you been to Twig Worth before?” he asked.

“No, never,” Anghenfil replied.

“Thats right, Grandma never let you wonder far from the fringe of the glade, did she,” Elis replied.

“Only with her, and never for long,” Anghenfil said.

“Well, its a lovely little village, its quite small, but very quaint and pretty. Delightful in fact. We have all the latest equipment, a well where we can use a large handle to pump up water to a tap instead of a buckets. Our latrines flow direct into the river through pipes instead of down the edges of the roads, and what’s more, we have a wonderful village square where everyone can get together and chat away the day,” he said proudly.

Anghenfil nodded an acknowledgement. He wasn’t really interested in what Elis was saying, but nevertheless listened politely. In turn, Elis wasn’t really interested in polite chit-chat but wanted to keep Anghenfil preoccupied until they came to the village. 

After about an hour and a half, Elis said “Well we’re almost here, just around this corner and up and over the small hill, and we’ll be there!”

True to his word, they climbed the hill and before them lay the village spread before them. Anghenfil was rather surprised. What he saw was totally unexpected. He was expecting brightly coloured houses, a central square with some kind of monument as the village focus,  children playing in the street, women going about their chores putting washing up on the line, men chopping wood or washing the windows, horse and carts laden with produce trotting through he streets, jolly street traders perhaps, people huddled in corners chatting and wishing each other good day kind sir. Perhaps even pretty ladies selling spring flowers from their street stalls, who would look at him and give him a cheeky wink. 

But no, Anghenfil did not see any of that.

The village of Twig Worth instead consisted of one main street, with some side streets branching off. At the end of the village was an overgrown green. The houses were tall and crooked, their upper stories almost touching their opposites. They were grey and black, had rotting timber beams and flaking plaster.  There may have been no effluent flowing down the street, but the whole village smelt of badly blocked drains. There were several dirty children in the centre of the main street, kicking about a pigs bladder, and shouting and screaming at each other in play. Their clothes were torn and some did not even have shoes. There was a butchers shop that was open for business, but in the front window hung a row of dead rats, instead of succulent cuts of fresh beef or pork. The fishmongers was closed and long ago abandoned, its front door banging open and close in the slight breeze. The bakers shop was open for business, but there were no whole loaves for sale, just some individual bread slices, with a sign in front saying “Rationed! 1 slice per family member only!"

Apart from the children playing, there was no other people out and about. The whole place had a desolate and run down feel to it. Anghenfil, who was walking a few paces ahead of Elis what shocked at what he saw. He turned round to ask Elis what was going on, but Elis had disappeared. Perhaps I’ve come to the wrong village, he thought, perhaps this is a strange village out of the county and not a village of the shire. But it must be Twig Worth, Elis himself had brought him here and told him all about it.

He quickly turned around and was about to retrace his steps back to the path. Perhaps if he returned the way he had come for a few miles, he could find his way to the correct village.

He suddenly noticed that there was no noise coming from the group of children. The children had stopped playing and were staring at him. A small child, the youngest of the group, suddenly ran up to him and threw a great handful of mud at him, hitting him squarely on the chest. At this, the other children started laughing. Anghenfil was aghast, he’d never ever met anyone who wasn’t friendly. Apart from Grandma of course, who at times could be very unfriendly towards him indeed. But also very loving. The largest child of the group suddenly ran off down one of the side streets. The other children paused and then ran off laughing as they followed.

Anghenfil started to panic. He wanted to leave as soon as possible so he took a deep breathe, tightened his rucksack and quickly started walking out of the village back to the forest path. But he had only gone a few steps when his way was blocked. In front of him were some elders, dressed in dirty, torn clothes, with unwashed faces. Behind the group of elders stood the same children who had thrown mud at him. They were quietly chanting something to themselves. Suddenly, from behind the elders, Elis his travelling companion approached. Anghenfil was about to greet him, when Anghenfil noticed the expression on his face. It was not the friendly Elis that Anghenfil knew such a short time earlier. Elis had a look on his face of pure unadulterated hatred. He held out his arm and pointed a long finger at Anghenfil.

“There he is! I told you I’d captured him. There is Anghenfil, the monster!” Elis shrieked.

“Monster! Monster! Monster!” the children chanted loudly behind him.

“Cut him up and put him in a pot! Cut him up and put him in a pot!” some of them gleefully added.

One of the elders, a tall man, with grey hair and with an air of authority about him, glared at Anghenfil.

“Is your grandmother called Heledd?” he asked.

Anghenfil nodded yes.

“And do you live with her in the cottage in the woods?”

“I did, yes,” Anghenfil replied unsure where this line of questioning was going.

“And is your name Anghenfil?”

“Yes it is sir, may I ask what -” Anghenfil started to ask but was interrupted

“And do you plead guilty or not guilty?”

Anghenfil was stumped. Guilty or not guilty? To what?

“What sir, do I have to plead guilty or not guilty to?” Anghenfil asked back.

“Why, you stupid boy, to being a monster like your grandmother,” replied the elder.

Taken aback, Anghenfil remained silent, desperately he tried to think of a response. He couldn’t and waited awkwardly, while the elders conversed together in a huddle. Elis stood to one side, smirking at him and slowly nodded his head up and down in smug satisfaction.

Suddenly the elders sprang up from their huddle and one of the other elders from the group, a small woman, with a sour face and lipstick that missed her lips and was half way up her cheeks, exclaimed “Guilty! Put him to death!”

The children rushed over to him holding bits of rope, and bound his hands behind his back. Another rope was placed over his neck and he was tugged so harshly forward, that he feel to his knees.

“Anghenfil,” the grey haired elder announced. “After due and very carefully considered diligence, you have been found guilty of being a monster. You will tomorrow be taken out to the forest and hung from a tree. Then when you are dead your body will be burnt and the ashes scattered to the four winds. Never again will we allow monsters to destroy and decimate our village, through false potions, poisons and outright deceit as you and your grandmother has done over the years. Goodbye for now Anghenfil, until tomorrow at dawn and your final goodbye. I suggest you spend what remaining time you have left repenting your evil ways.”

The children then pulled Anghenfil over to a horse hitch, and tied him to it thoroughly. After they had gone, the sour faced woman pulled up a rocking chair, some wool and some knitting needles. She started rocking back and forth, staring at him, knitting fast.

Anghenfil was in a state of shock. He knew Grandma was evil, and that she had done terrible things to the villagers. But this didn’t seem just. He was just an ordinary boy. 

“Please let me go, I haven’t done anything wrong,” Anghenfil pleaded. The woman ignored him.

“Please, let me go!” he asked again.

“Sorry, can’t do,” she replied. “Besides, I’m knitting your hanging hood, wouldn’t want to waste it.”

Chapter 13

The sun was starting to rise from the east. A few beams of light was starting to shine through the trees, casting a myriad of freckles and spots onto the ground. The air was moist, full of the previous days rain. It was unseasonably warm for a summer morning, the rising sun caused a grey mist to hang low over the village streets.

To one side of the main street Anghenfil was still tied up to the horses hitch, his head bowed down onto his chest, not asleep but not fully awake either. The sour faced woman was leaning back into her rocking chair, her mouth wide open, fast asleep. She snored like a pig.

Peering from behind the bakers shop door stood Ceri, the daughter of Elis. She was looking intently at Anghenfil and the woman in the rocking chair. About an hour passed, and Ceri was satisfied the woman was asleep. She took from the store cupboard a small lump of bakers lard and held it in her hand. Quickly she ran over the street to where Anghenfil was tied up and gave him a short nudge.

Anghenfil looked up with a start and looked blankly at Ceri.

“I know you,” he started to say.

Ceri gave him a very stern look, and nodded her head back and forth, with her finger over her mouth. Anghenfil nodded back that he understood to keep quiet. Ceri bent over and undid the laces on Anghenfil’s left shoe and took the shoe and sock off. The sock she put into her pocket. She then covered his ankle with a thin layer of bakers lard, and placed the shoe back on, but made sure the laces were not done up tightly.

Anghenfil was puzzled at her actions but was paying attention intently. Then Ceri did the exact same with his right foot.

“Whatever happens, you must keep you toes clenched so your shoes don’t fall off. You’ll know when the time is right to unclench and remove the shoes,” she whispered in his ear. Then she said, 

“Open your mouth,” and put into it a small pill.

“Put this to one side of your mouth. Do not swallow it until they start to hang you. That is most important!” she commanded and then scurried off quickly.

Time passed... 

...continues