From 'The Mabinogion', translated from middle Welsh

...She [Arianrod] was brought to him (Gwidion). The maiden came inside. 

‘Maiden,’ he said ‘are you [still] a maiden?’  

‘I know no reason why I should not be.’

Then he took the magic wand and bent it.

‘Step over this,’ he said ‘and if you are a maiden, I will know it.’

Then she stepped over the magic wand, and in that step she dropped a large boy with curly yellow hair. What the boy did was give a loud cry. After the boy’s cry, she made for the door, and in the process a little something [dropped] from her. Before anyone could get second look of it, Gwydion picked it up and wrapped a sheet of brocaded silk around it, and hid it away. [The place] where he hid it was in a small chest at the foot of his bed.

‘Aye,’ said [Math son of]Mathonwy about the curly yellow haired boy ‘I will have this one baptized. The name I will give [him] is Dylan.’

The boy was baptized, and as soon, as he was baptized he made for the sea. And there, as soon as he came to the sea, he took the nature of the sea.  He could swim as well as the best fish in the sea, and for that reason he was called ‘Dylan Prince of the Wave’. No wave ever broke beneath him. The blow by which his death was came to him was cast by Govannon, his uncle. And that was one of the Three Ill-Fated Blows.

As Gwydion was waking up in his bed one day, he heard a cry in the chest at his feet. Although it wasn’t loud, it loud enough for him to hear it. He quickly got up and opened the chest. As he opened it, he could see a little boy thrusting his arms out of the folds of the sheet, pushing it away. He took the boy between his hands, and made for the township with him, where he knew there was a woman with [milk in her] breasts. He made a deal a woman to nurture the boy. The boy was reared for that year. And [he grew so fast that] after the period of a year, they would have been impressed by his size even if he had been two years old. 

[By] the next year old he was a large boy, and able to go to the court by himself. Gwydion, for his part, acknowledged him when he came to court. And the boy got to know him, and loved him more than any other person. The boy was then raised in the court until he was four years old. And it would have been impressive if a boy of eight years old had been as large as him.
One day, he followed Gwydion outside for a walk. What he did was make for Caer Aranrhod, together with the boy. After his arrival at the court, Aranrhod got up to meet him and make him welcome. 

‘God give well to you,’ said he.

‘Who is that boy following you?’

‘This boy is a boy of yours.’

‘Alas, man! What has come over you, shaming me [like this], and continuing my shame, and keeping it with you for as long as this?’

‘If your shame is nothing more than my having reared a boy this fine, then a small thing is your shame.’

‘What is the name of your boy?’ said she.

‘God knows,’ said he ‘there is no name upon him yet.’

‘Aye,’ said she ‘I will swear an oath upon him: he will not get a name until he gets it from me.’

‘I swear to God by my confession,’ said he ‘you are a wretched woman! The boy will get a name, even if it is evil to you. And you,’ he continued ‘because of him grief [is] upon you: you are not called a maiden, and will never be called a maiden again!’ 

At that, he walked off in a fury, and made for Caer Dathyl – and was there for the night. 

The next day he arose, and taking his boy with him went on a walk beside the ocean, between there and Aber Menei. And wherever he saw dulse and sea-girdle, he conjured up a ship. And out of sea-weed and dulse, he conjured dovan leather – and plenty of it – and dappled them, so that no-one had ever seen leather more beautiful than that. And at that, he arrayed a sail on the ship, and came, he and the boy in the boat, to the threshold of the gate of Caer Aranrhod.

When he realised he had been seen from caer, he took away their own appearance, and placed a different appearance upon them – so that they would not be recognised.

‘What people are in the boat? asked Aranrhod.

‘Shoe-makers,’ said they.

‘Go and see what kind of leather they have, and what kind of work they do,’ said she.

Then they came up to him, and when they came, he was [busy] dappling the dovan – in gold. The messengers went back and related that to her.

‘Aye,’ said she ‘take the measure of my foot, and ask the shoe-makers to make me [some] shoes.’

For his part, [Gwydion] cut out the shoes – not to measure, but too big instead. 

The shoes came to her. And, sure enough, the shoes were too big. 

‘These are too big,’ said she ‘he will get payment for them, but let him also make some that are smaller.’

What he did was make some others that were very much smaller than her foot, and sent them to her.

‘Tell him that not one of these [pairs of] shoes fits me.’

That was told to him.

‘Aye,’ he replied ‘I won’t fashion the shoes for her until I can see her foot.’

That was said to her.

‘Aye,’ said she ‘I will go out to him.’

Then she came out to the boat. When she came, he was cutting-out, and the boy was stitching.

‘Aye, Lady,’ he said ‘good day to you.’

‘God give well to you,’ said she ‘it seems strange to me that you are not able 

to adjust the shoes to my measure.’

‘I couldn’t,’ he said ‘[but] now I can.’

At that, suddenly, there was a wren alighting on the deck of the boat. The boy took aim and hit it between the sinew and the bone of its leg. She laughed.

‘God knows,’ said she ‘the fair one strikes it with a skilful hand!’

‘Aye,’ he replied ‘and the wrath of God upon you! He has obtained a name, and the name is good enough “Lleu Skillful Hand” he will be from now on.’
 
Then the work faded back into dulse and sea-weed, and he pursued that trade no longer than that. [But] from [doing] that, he was called one of the ‘Three Golden shoemakers.

‘God knows,’ said she ‘you will not thrive from being so evil to me!’

‘I have not been evil to you, even now,’ he replied.

Then he released his boy into his former appearance, and took his own appearance as well. 

‘Aye,’ said she ‘I will swear an oath on this boy – that he never take arms until I arm him myself.’

‘Between me and God!’ said he ‘this [all] springs from your wretchedness – but he will [his] arms get [nonetheless]!’
Then they came back over to Dinas Dinlleu.

Lleu Skillful-Hand was reared until he could ride every horse, and was complete in form, growth and weight.  

Then Gwydion noticed that he was getting despondent from the lack of horses and arms, and he called him in. 

‘Lad,’ said he ‘we will go, you and I, on an errand tomorrow. So do be more cheerful than you are.’

‘That I will do,’ said the youth.

The following morning in the young of the day, they walked along the beach up as far as Brynn Aryen; and at the top of Cefyn Cludno, they kitted-out [some] horses and went along to Caer Aranrhod. Then they changed their semblance: and made for the gate in the guise of two young lads, except Gwydion appearance was more serious than that of the youth.

‘Gate-keeper,’ said he ‘go inside and say there are [some] bards from Morganog here.’ The gate-keeper went.

‘God’s welcome to them. Let them in,’ said she.

There was great joy at their arrival. The hall was prepared and they went to eat. After the meal was finished, Gwydion made conversation with her about legends and lore. Gwydion himself was a good cyfarwydd.After it was time to depart from carousing, a chamber was prepared for them, and they went to bed. 

At cock-crow, Gwydion arose. Then he invoked his enchantment and his powers. 

At the first light of day, there was a multitude of trumpet blasts and shouting resounding throughout the countryside. When day-break came they heard a knocking on the chamber door, and (at that) Aranrhod asking them to open it. The youth got up and opened it. She came inside, a maiden with her.

‘Good men,’ said she ‘we are in an evil position.’

‘Aye,’ he replied ‘we can hear trumpets and shouting. What do you suppose from that?’

‘God knows,’ said she ‘we can’t even see the colour of the ocean for all the boats crammed-up together [out there]. And the bulk [of them] are heading for land as fast as they can. What should we do?’

‘Lady,’ said Gwydion ‘there’s nothing for it but to close up the caer around us, and defend it as best we can.’

‘Aye,’ said she ‘God repay you. Protect us.  You will find weapons a-plenty here.’

At that, she went to get the weapons. And then she was back, two maidens with her [carrying] arms for two men.

‘Lady,’ said he ‘arm up this young man. And I, with the  maidens, will arm myself. I can hear the sound of the men coming.’

‘I will do that gladly.’

And she armed him gladly, and to the full.

‘Is it finished?’ he asked ‘the arming of that young man?’

‘Its finished,’ she replied.

‘Then I’ve finished too,’ said he ‘take off the weapons now, we have no need for them.’

‘Och!’ she said ‘how is that? Look at the fleet around the house!’

‘Woman, there isn’t a single boat out there.’

‘Och!’ said she ‘what sort of mustering was it out there?’

‘That mustering,’ he replied ‘[was] to break your destiny upon your boy, and for him to get [his own] weapons. And he got his weapons indeed – no thanks to you.’

‘Between me and God, you are an evil man!’ she exclaimed ‘Many a boy could have lost his life in the mustering you caused in this cantref today. I will swear a destiny upon him,’ she continued ‘that he will never get a wife, from any race that in the world today!’ 

‘Aye,’ said he ‘you have always been a wretched woman, and no-one should support you. But he will get a wife just the same.’
 
They went to Math son of Mathonwy, and made the most serious complaint in the world against Aranrhod, and [Gwydion] told him about all he had had to do to obtain for arms him.
‘Aye,’ said Math ‘we must endeavour, you and I, to conjure a wife for him out of flowers, using our magic and enchantment.’
 [Lleu], for his part, was a fully grown man, and the most handsome youth anyone had ever seen.
Then they took the flowers of the oak, the flowers of the broom, and the flowers of the meadowsweet – and from those they called forth the fairest and most beautiful woman anyone had ever seen. She was baptised with the baptism they practiced [back] then, and [the name of] “Blodeuedd” was put upon her. 
After [that] they slept together over the feast.
‘It is not easy,’ remarked Gwydion ‘for a man to support himself without lands.’
‘Aye,’ said Math ‘I will give him the best cantref for a youth to get.’
‘Lord,’ he asked ‘which cantref is that?’
‘Cantref Dinoding,’ he replied. (Nowadays that is called Eifonydd and Ardudwy). 
The place in the cantref where he set up his court was a place called Mur Castell, and that is in the Ardudwy area. He settled then and ruled his lands. 
And everyone was satisfied with him and his rule.
Then, once upon a time, he made his way over to Caer Dathyl to visit Math son of Mathonwy. The day he went to Caer Dathyl, she [i.e. Blodeuedd] was doing the rounds inside the court. She heard the blast of a horn, and in the wake of the horn-blast there was an exhausted stag passing by, with dogs and huntsmen coming after it. And after the dogs and huntsmen, a crowd of men on foot came [by].
‘Send a lad,’ said she ‘to find out what that retinue is.’
[Off] went the lad, and asked who they were.
‘This is Gronw Pebyr – the man who is lord of Penllyn,’ said they. And that the lad reported back to her.
For his part, [Gronw] went after the stag. At the River Cynfael, he caught up with the stag and killed it. He was busy flaying the stag and baiting his hounds until the night closed in on him. And as the sun went down, and the night drew near, he came past the gate of the court.
‘God knows,’ said she ‘we will incur dishonour from the chieftain if we let him [pass through] to another land without inviting him in.’
‘God knows, Lady,’ said they ‘it would be best to invite him in.’
Then messengers went to meet him and invite him in. He took the invitation gladly then, and came to the court. She came to welcome him and greet him warmly.
‘Lady, God repay your kindness.’
They got changed and went to sit down. Blodeuedd looked upon him, and in the instance she looked, there was not an emotion within her that wasn’t filled with love for him. And he also gazed at her, and the same thought came to him as had come to her. He was not able to hide that he was in love her, and he told her so. And she took great pleasure at that. And because of the passion and love each felt for the other, that was [all] they talked about that night. Nor did they wait any longer than that night before they embraced one another. That night they slept together.
The next day, he got ready to go.
‘God knows,’ said she ‘you will not go away from me tonight.’
That night too they were together. And that night they discussed how they might stay together longer.
‘There is nothing you can do except this:’ he said ‘to find out from him by what means his death might come – under the pretence of caring about him.’
The next day, he got ready to go.
‘God knows,’ said she ‘I am not counselling you to go from me today.’
‘God knows, since you are not counselling me [to], I’m not going,’ he said ‘I am saying, however, that there is a danger that the chieftain whose court this is might come home.’
‘Aye,’ said she ‘tomorrow I will allow you leave.’
The next day, he got ready to go, and she did not hinder him.
‘Aye,’ he said ‘remember what I said to you, and talk earnestly with him, and do that under the guise of affectionate nagging. And find out from him by what means death might be brought about.’
That night he came home. They passed the day in conversation, song and carousal. 
That night they went to sleep together. He spoke some words to her, [once] and a second time. But no [reply] did he get then.
‘What’s happened to you?’ he asked ‘are you well?
‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said ‘something you wouldn’t think about me, its just’ she continued ‘that I’ve been worried about your death, if you go before me…’
‘Aye,’ said he ‘God repay your care. But unless God kills me, however, it is not easy to kill me.’
‘Will you, for God’s sake and mine, tell me by what means you might be killed? 
Since my memory is a better safeguard than yours.’
‘I’ll tell you gladly,’ he said ‘It is not easy,’ he continued ‘to kill me by a blow . It would be necessary to spend a year making the spear to strike me with – and without making any of it [at any other time] except when one was at mass on Sundays.’  
‘And is that certain?’ she asked.
‘It’s certain, God knows,’ he replied ‘I cannot be killed inside a house, nor outside,’ he continued ‘I cannot be killed on horseback or on foot.’
‘Aye,’ said she ‘[so] in what way can you be killed?’
‘I’ll tell you,’ he replied. ‘By making a bath for me by the side of a river, making a curved, slatted roof over the tub, and thatching that well and without [leaving] any gaps. And bringing a buck,’ he continued ‘and putting it next to the tub, and me putting one of my feet on the buck’s back, and the other one on the side of the tub. Whoever would strike me [while I am] like that would bring about my death.’
‘Aye,’ said she ‘I thank God for that. That can be easily avoided.’
No sooner than she had obtained that information, she sent for Gronw Pebyr. 
Gronw laboured at making that spear, and on the same day at the end of the year it was ready. And on that day he let her know.
‘Lord,’ said she ‘I am thinking about how what you were talking about with me earlier might be possible. Would you show me how you would stand on the edge of the tub and on the buck if I prepare the bath?’
‘I’ll show you’ he replied.
She sent for Gronw, and asked him to abide in the shadow of the hill which is now called “Brynn Kyfegyr”: that was on the bank of the River Kynfael. She arranged for all the goats in cantref to be obtained and herded together, and brought them over to the river opposite Bryn Kyfegyr.
The next day she spoke to him. 
‘Lord,’ said she ‘I have arranged what you said, I have prepared the slats and the bath and they are ready.’
‘Aye,’ said he ‘We’ll go and look at it, gladly.’
They went the next day to look at the bath.
‘Will you go in the bath, Lord?’ she asked.
‘I’ll go in, gladly,’ he said.
He went in the bath, and began to wash himself.
‘Lord,’ said she ‘here are the animals which you said had [the name of]“bucks”.’
‘Aye,’ said he ‘arrange for one of them to be seized, and have it brought over here.’
It was brought over.
Then he got up from the bath, put on his trousers and put one foot on the edge of the tub, and the other on the back of the buck.
Gronw rose up from the hill that was called Bryn Kyfergyr, went up on one knee, and cast the poison spear and struck him on the side, with the shaft protruding out of him and the head stuck inside. Then [Lleu] took flight in the form of an eagle, and gave a terrible scream, and after that they lost sight of him.
As soon as he had gone off, they made for the court, and that night they slept together. The next day Gronw arose and subdued Ardudwy. After he subdued the land, he ruled it – so that Ardudwy and Penllyn were [both under] his [control]. 

Then news came to Math son of Mathonwy. Math was depressed and troubled by that, and Gwydion even more so than him.
‘Lord,’ said Gwydion ‘I will never rest until I get news about my nephew.’
‘Aye,’ said Math ‘may God be your strength.’
Then he set out, and began his wandering. He wandered Gwynedd and the far reaches of Powys. After he had explored every place, he came to Arfon, and came to the house of the son of a villein in Maenawr Bennard.
He alighted in the house, and spent the night there. The man of the house and his family came in, and last of all came the swineherd. The man of the house spoke to the swineherd.
‘Lad’, said he ‘has your sow come in tonight?’
‘She has come,’ he replied ‘now she comes to the pig.’
‘What kind of journey does that sow have?’ asked Gwydion.
‘When the sty is opened every day she goes out. It is not possible to get a hold of her, and it is not known where she goes any more than if she went into the earth.’
‘Will you do [this] for me?’ asked Gwydion. ‘Do not open the sty until I am next to the sty with you.’
‘I’ll do [that] gladly,’ he replied.
And they went to sleep that night.
When the swine-herd saw the light of day, he woke Gwydion, and Gwydion got up and got dressed and came with him to stand next to the sty. The swine-herd opened the sty. As soon as it was open, there she was, launching herself out of the sty. And she roamed far, with Gwydion following her. She went up-stream, making for a valley (which is now called Nant Lleu), and then slowed down and [started] grazing.
Gwydion, for his part, came under the tree, and looked for what the sow was grazing on. He could see the sow was grazing on rotting flesh and maggots. He looked up into the top of the tree. When he looked up, he could see an eagle in the top of the tree. When the eagle shook himself, worms and rotting flesh fell from him, and those the sow was devouring. It occurred to him that the eagle was Lleu, and he sung an englyn:

‘An oak grows between two pools,
Dark-black branches sky and glen 
If I do not tell a lie
From the flowers of Lleu this has come!’

The eagle let himself down until he was in the middle of the tree. [Then] Gwydion sang another englyn:

‘An oak grows upon a high plain
Rain neither wets it, nor drips upon it
Nine-score strikes has it endured 
In its top, Lleu Skillful-Hand.'

And then he let himself down until he was on the lowest branch of the tree. Then [Gwydion] sang an englyn:

'Grows an oak upon a steep
The sanctuary of fair lord
Unless I speak falsely:
Lleu will come down into my lap'
 
 And he fell onto Gwydion’s knee; and then Gwydion struck him with a magic wand, until he was [back] in his own form. However, no-one had ever seen a man in a sorrier state. He was nothing but skin and bones.
Then he made for Caer Dathyl, and there the best doctors that could be found in Gwynedd were brought before him. Before the end of the year, he was [back] in good health.
‘Lord,’ he said to Math son of Mathonwy ‘it is high time I got justice from the man who inflicted [such] trouble upon me.’
‘God knows,’ said Math ‘he will not be able to defend himself, justice to you lies with him.’
‘Aye,’ said the other ‘the sooner I can get justice the better’.
Then they mustered Gwynedd and made for Ardudwy. Gwydion went in front, and made for Mur Castell. Blodeuedd, [when] she heard that they were on their way, took her maidens with her and made for the mountain, across the River Cynfael, making for a court that was up the mountain. And so frightened were they, that they could not walk without facing backwards. Then, before they knew it, they fell into a lake and all drowned except [Blodeuedd] herself. And then Gwydion overtook her, and spoke:
‘I will not kill you. What I am going to do is [even] worse,’ he said ‘that is, I will release you in the shape of a bird. Because of the shame that you have wrought upon Lleu Llaw Gyffes, you will not dare to show your face ever again in the light of day ever again, and that [will be] because of enmity between you and all[other] birds. It will be in their nature to harass you and despise you wherever they find you. And you will not loose your name – that will always be “Bloddeuwedd”.’
“Blodeuwedd” means “owl” in the language of today. And it is because of that there is hostility between birds and owls, and the owl is still known as Blodeuwedd.
 
For his part, Gronw Pebyr made for Penllyn, and from there he sent envoys. The messengers conveyed a request to Lleu Skilful-Hand [offering him] whatever he wanted [in terms] of blood-payment: either land or territory or gold or silver.
‘I will not take [it], by the confession I give to God!’ said he ‘Here is the least I’ll accept from him: going to the place where I was, when he cast the spear, with me in the place where he was. And let me cast a spear at him. That is the least I will accept from him.’
That was told to Gronw Pebyr.
‘Aye’, he said ‘I will have to do that. O loyal noblemen, my war-band, my foster-brothers: is there anyone one of you that would take this blow for me?’
‘God knows, there is not’ said they.
Because of their refusal to endure the taking of a single blow on behalf of their lord, they are called one of the Three Disloyal Warbands, from that day to this.
‘Aye,’ he said ‘[then] I will take it.’
Both of them came to the bank of the River Cynfael. Then Gronw Pebyr stood, where Lleu Skillful Hand had been when he had cast [the spear] at him, and Lleu in the place where he himself had been. 
Then Gronw Pebyr came before Lleu. 
‘Lord,’ said he ‘since it was through the wiles of a woman that I did what I did to you, I am asking you, for God’s sake, that you let me put that stone which I see by the bank of the river between me and blow.’
‘God knows,’ said Lleu ‘I will not refuse you that.’
‘Aye,’ said he ‘God repay you.’
Then Gronw took the stone and put it between himself and the blow.
Lleu cast the spear at him. It went pierced though the stone, pierced through him and broke his back.
And then Gronw Pebyr died, and there on the bank of the River Cynfael in Ardudwy the stone is [still], with a hole through it. And for that reason, it is called ‘The Stone of Gronw’.
Lleu Skillful Hand, for his part, conquered the land a second time. And, according to the tradition, he was lord of Gwynedd thereafter.

© Will Parker 2003