Chapter 10Gwynn ap Nudd, Lord of Annwn, stood upon the summit of the Tor and gazed hawk-eyed upon the lovely scene of forest, water and reeds that lay below him in every direction. Water birds were winging home.
The sky above him was darkening into night but he did not see it wheel and turn as Lukas had, nor feel the earth moving in harmony with it.
Gwynn’s expression was grim.
The ancient days were almost gone. He, one of the mighty Lords of the Underworld, leader of the Wild Hunt, most feared Gatherer of Souls, had been pushed aside by the new religion as though he were some sort of outgrown toy. He would show those monks with their perpetual choir! Their prayers robbed him of his glory, stole his subjects, confined his restless heart.
It had begun with Arthur, god-King of the ancien
