This may not exactly be the version of the legend of "Tristan and Iseult" that you are familiar with. Rather, I have taken the oldest French sources as well as the Irish and then overlaid the surviving fragments of the Cymric tales. The entire tone of the story has also been shifted to make it fit-in with the sensibilities and the world-view of the Ystoria Trystan^[*].

Ystoria Drystan ac Esyllt

Thus it came about that under Arthur's urging Tallwch ap Cuch who was Arthur's cousin journeyed from his own realms in the land of Prydyn to aid his cousin March mab Meirchion, ruler of Glywysing in the land of the Kymry. For March was beset by Gwyddyl from the land of Ywerddon. Whereupon Tallwch distinguished himself in battle against the foemen to such an extent that he became a favourite of March's and he was offered the hand of March's own sister — Blodwenna — in marriage.

The couple eventually journeyed northwards to Prydyn where, in the fullness of time, they had a son, Drystan and a daughter Modyf. In common with many in his clan Drystan had a cyneddf placed upon him: in battle, were a foe to draw his blood then the foeman would die. Conversely, were Drystan to draw the blood of his foeman then that foe would also surely die.

Now, when Drystan came of age, as was the practice in those days, he was given to his uncle, March, as a macwy. At Ystradclut March's vessel awaited the boy, to take him down to Celtic sea to the realm of Glywysing. For March was one of the great seafarers of the Island of Britain. At Kaerilltud Drystan became a macwy and learnt the arts of manhood. He was taught the arts and skills of languages, the arts of war and single combat, as well as the arts of charm and illusion and the arts of sword, spear and bow. He proved himself an able student and soon surpassed the abilities of all his instructors.

One day an Ulster merchant vessel put in near Kaerilltud. Curious, Drystan walked up to the vessel whereupon he saw a beautifully-crafted gaming board. In perfect Irish he enquired of the crew as to whether any amongst them played fidchell. A crewman readily assented to a game and board and die were set before them to play. The Gaels were captivated by Drystan's skill, grace, and good looks and knowing that he would fetch a good price they hatched a plot to kidnap him. Keeping Drystan's entire attention focussed on the game the other sailors silently cast-off and set their sails for the north. The game drew on as fair winds took them west and then northwards, skirting the headlands of Dyfed, Gwynedd and Môxn. Eventually Drystan cast his final die and made his final move to pin-down the Ulsterman's king-piece. As Drystan raised his head to view his surroundings a great tempest sprang-up from the south to harry them northwards. Fearing they would be dashed against the rocks and believing the strange youth they had kidnapped to be the magickal cause of their misfortune they immediately attested that they would release their captive if only he would cease his spell.

Almost immediately the wind slackened and the waves quietened. In keeping with their promise the pirates hove-to and released Drystan on the nearest lee-shore. Which, as fate would have it, was the land of Rheged near the woodlands of Ystradclud.

Ascending the cliff from the beach Drystan gazed across the heather-coated headland towards the endless woods of Ystradclud. So near, and yet so distant was he from his father's realm that he almost wept at his isolation. That is, until he heard the blaring sound of a hunter's carnyx and the baying of hounds. Quickly he crossed the open ground, entering the woods' verge just as a magnificent stag broke cover at the woodland's edge. Hard by the stag's heels the main body of the hunt — hounds and huntsmen, both — burst out from the cover of the trees. A stone's throw from Drystan the stag wheeled, just as the foremost huntsman raised his spear and struck for the heart. As the huntsman jumped from his steed's back to divide the carcass Drystan stepped forwards to stay his hand. In perfect Brython of the north he commented: 'Arglwydd, is it the custom of this realm to slaughter such a noble beast like a base farmyard animal?'

'Fair friend...' the huntsman answered, 'what troubles you? For first I take the beast's head and then I cut it into quarters before carrying it back to the Llys of Arthur our liege-lord. If, however, you know of a nobler custom, then take this knife and pray show it to us.'

Taking the knife from the hunter's hand Drystan first gutted the beast before skinning it and quartering it in order, thus leaving the crow-bone whole, as is proper. Finally he cut-off the head so that it came off whole with the skin. Then he sliced-off the haunch and took out the heart.

'That is well done, the huntsman asserted 'these are good ways, indeed. But, fair traveller, whence did you learn them? Pray, tell us your name and from whence you came...'

'I am Drystan, he explained 'and I hail from the land of Glywysing far to the south.'

'Fair Drystan,' The huntsman responded, 'The realm of Glywysing must be fair, indeed, if they teach their sons thus. Now come, let us make haste to our lord's Llys.'

'First,' Drystan responded, 'let us feed the dogs and array the meat.' Hurling the offal to the dogs, Drystan took the jointed venison and placing the pieces on the tips of various hunters' spears he arrayed them in pairs, each in strict order of precedence, from haunch to rump. Finally he placed the heart atop the chief huntsman's spear and cast the head and pelt across the pommel of a steed that had been prepared for him. Then the procession set-off for Arthur's Llys.

When they came across the great Llys of the Lords of Britain the carnyx blared as the immense doorways were thrust open to allow entry to the processional.

That evening, when the meat had been cleared and a pencerdd from the realm of Gwynedd stood to sing his lay Drystan leapt to his feet as the first chord was struck and exclaimed: 'By the gods! My liege, is that not the first and greatest of all songs? The Brython in eldritch days sang it of Cynfelen before the Romans came!'

Arthur raised his mighty brow and addressing he lad enquired: 'Boy, what do you know of the pencerdd's art? Do all the sons of Glywysing learn the arts of harp and poetry at their mothers' breast? Come, take-up the harp and show us all your skill.'

Whereupon Drystan took-up the harp and sang the lay of Ercwlff and his mighty deeds.

When the song was done and the table-hammering of appreciation had died away Arthur rose and addressed the boy once more: 'Blessed be he who taught thee, for thou art surely descended from the great tale-tellers of old. Such a pen-cerdd is welcome in this Llys and long may he tarry by my side.'

For many seasons did Drystan save Arthur and he learnt from Arthur's teulu the arts of the Llys and all the arts of war. From Cei mab Cynyr Ceinfarfog, Bedwyr mab Bedrawg, Gwythyr mab Greidawl and Arthur mab Uthyr himself did he learn the ^[†]apple-feat, the thunder-feat, the blade-feat, the spear-feat, the body-feat, the cat's feat, the salmon-feat, the throw-of-a-spear, the thrust-of-a-sword, the spear of the bellows, the breath feat, the swiftness of stag, the hero's whoop, the bear-blow and its counter-blow a the hero's twist around the point of spears.

From Meinw mab Terigwaedd and Eiddilig the Dwarf he learnt the arts of enchantment, until he became so proficient that he was numbered amongst them as one of the 'three enchanter knights of Arthur's Llys'. Drystan became an invaluable member of Arthur's teulu. So invaluable, indeed, that he was elevated to the post of one of Arthur's three counsellors.

It so happened that as summer gave way to autumn all of Arthur's teulu made their way to his Llys. And so it happened that the vessel of March mab Meirchiawn made harbour and along with his retinue he came to Arthur's Llys. Almost immediately March saw his macwy, Drystan and the two fell upon each other with joy. Puzzled, Arthur stepped forwards and enquired of them as to how they knew one another. March responded with: 'My lord, why, this is Drystan mab Tallwch, your kinsman. For he is the son of Tallwch your own cousin. He was my macwy until vilely taken by the pirates of Ulster.'

'Then, cousin...' Arthur responded, 'it is good that the grandson of my father's brother found his way to my Llys. For he, like thee, is now ranked amongst my advisers. But, in the spirit of kinship I release my hold on him and return the lad to your household.'

☬       ☬       ☬

In those days the lands of the north were plagued by giants. An entreaty came to Arthur's court from the lands of Tallwch, Drystan's father, requesting aid to combat the giant, Morhull, who was attacking the realm and demanding tribute. As the giant attacked the land of his birth, Drystan entreated with both his uncles to allow him to lead the forces raised against Morhull. Despite his uncles' attempts Drystan would not be swayed from his purpose — for once his mind was made up on an issue nothing could divert him from his purpose. Thus Drystan led his war-band northwards into the land of Prydyn and the realm of his father. There to do battle with the Morhull.

The road from Rheged to Pictland, such as it was, provided little but hard travel through dark and seemingly endless woods. Though the war band made good time, spurred-on as they were by Drystan, their leader. A raiding party of two-score warriors, bristling with arms. Eventually they came to the outskirts of Tallwch's realm, where the trail of destruction wrought by the Morhull led them inexorably northwards towards the mountains of Bannawg whence, at the end of a narrow pass, they came upon the fortress of Kaer Kulfanwyd. For thence, within the former hall of Kulfanwyd mab Goryon had Morhull ensconced himself.

Beyond a wooden rampart and a wide ditch rose the outer and inner walls of the caer and above these rose the dark, bearded, head of the giant, Morhull. The men in Drystan's company began to mutter that the caer was impregnable but Drystan simply snorted his derision at such an idea.

Taking his spear, sword and dagger, he dismounted from his steed, Gwelwgan Gohoewgein and readying himself he jumped the hero's salmon-leap across the dyke and both ramparts to land safely, using the cat-feat, within Kaer Kulfanwyd.

Instantly the giant's men were upon him and he drew his sword and tore into them. Three blows he dealt and each blow brought-down eight men. The attackers fell back and Drystan spied a fair maiden trapped within the Dun and guarded by none other than Morhull himself who towered over her, three times as tall as a normal man. Spear raised, Drystan strode through the mass of guardians dealing sword-blows left and right as he made for the giant. The light of battle was upon his brow and just as Drystan loosed his spear Morhull uttered a roar and in a single bound he leapt the ramparts. With his salmon-leap Drystan took after him and caught the giant between the inner and outer ramparts. They closed on one another, swords drawn and teeth bared. Striking at each other, Drystan drew the giant's blood, just as the giant managed to draw his own sword across Drystan's arm. Thus the giant died; for this was Drystan's cyneddf: that any man who drew his blood in combat would die and any man he wounded in battle would also die. Drystan struck-off the giant's head and leaping over the inner wall he made to free the captured maiden.

Taking the golden-haired woman in his arms Drystan took her, her maid and the sacks of Morhull's gold and with the salmon-leap he freed them all from the fortress. He stumbled as he made landfall but managed to ease all his burdens to the ground. Stiffly he bowed to the women as he introduced himself.

'I am in thy debt, sir,' responded the fair-haired maid. 'I am Esyllt, daughter of Kulfanwyd mab Goryon, Post Prydain and this is Golwg Hafddydd, my handmaiden. But sir, thou art wounded by Morhull's poisoned sword. Come, sir, let me tend the wound.'

Esyllt cleaned and dressed Drystan's wound but his strength was quickly sapped by the poison and Esyllt urged his men to transport the ailing knight to her father's Llys. There, through dint of the herbs at her disposal and her skills as a physic Esyllt drew the poison from Drystan's body and healed him. Over the long period of Drystan's recovery he and Esyllt became close, each becoming enamoured of the other. All too soon though the day came for Drystan and his men to take leave of Kulfanwyd's Llys.

Saddling horses they paid their leave and began their long trek southwards. Which was when the host of Morhull fell upon them. With a roar the bandits broke from the trees, falling upon the band of travellers who valiantly wheeled their steeds to defend themselves. Though not fully healed Drystan drew his sword and fell upon the attackers. Each swipe of his blade cut-down nine foemen and soon he had killed more than five-score. Soon the battlefield was strewn with bodies and to commemorate Drystan's great work in defeating his enemy the area was called Morweith. This is why Drystan became known as one of the three great battle-leaders of the island of Britain.

They returned triumphant to Arthur's Llys, from where Drystan boarded a ship and made his way back to Glywysing and his uncle March's Llys.

To March Drystan extolled the virtues of Esyllt Fynwen (fair-hair) whom he had rescued, Esyllt Fyngul (slender-neck) who, in her turn, had saved him from the poison of Morhull's sword. Never was there a finer maid in the whole of Prydain or Prydyn.

So well did he praise fair Esyllt that March himself became enamoured of her and in response to his counsellors' insistence he determined to make Esyllt his wife and thereby secure the continuance of his line, just as his advisers had impressed upon him to do. With his mind made up, March determined to send a missive to Esyllt and sue for her hand. To this end he appointed Drystan as his emissary for he knew Esyllt and her father's court. Giving Drystan command of his capital ship and a hundred of his best warriors along with the best cloth, silver, gold and jewels March bade them godspeed and a fair wind to Prydyn.

They hove-to at the nearest harbour to the Llys of Kulfanwyd, Esyllt's father and lest they not be considered an invading force Drystan had his men clothe themselves as simple sailors. On the second day of their mooring Drystan heard a commotion coming from shore. There was a roar as of the earth being rent asunder. Sheet lightning coloured the sky to the west and when Drystan asked a cowering woman by the shore whence the terrible cry had originated she responded that it was the roar of a gwiber. At daybreak it emerges from its den and coils itself about the entrance to the pass leading to Kulfanwyd's Llys. None can emerge or enter until a sacrifice has been presented to the beast. 'Tell me true...' Drystan entreated, 'can a mortal man slay this beast?'

'I know not...' the woman responded, 'though it is said that twenty knights have pitted themselves against the beast but none have returned, for Kulvanwyd has promised the hand of his daughter, Esyllt Fynwen to whomever shall slay the beast.

Leaving the woman, Drystan returned to his vessel and secretly arming himself he saddled his steed and made for the Llys of Kulfanwyd. As kicked his steed harder he saw three figures in the distance riding at pace towards him, the sweat flecking the flanks of their steeds. Drystan hailed them in the friendly manner of all travellers but they simply ignored him and made to ride past. Drystan veered his steed towards the three fleeing men and somehow just managed to snag the foremost rider by the hair. Yanking the man from his own steed he set him across the crupper of his own horse.

'Thou fleest', Drystan hissed at his terrified captive's face. 'Whence lies the gwiber — this wyrm that plagues thy land?'

With a trembling arm the marchawg indicated back in the direction he had come. Casting the man from his steed Drystan kicked the animal's flanks so that it sped faster along the eastwards road.

Soon Drystan saw lights flashing from the direction of what looked like a narrow pass cut in the hills before him. Riding closer he observed that the flashes became a continuous ripple of light above which, on a long serpentine neck, rose a gigantic ram-horned bat-eared serpent's head. The dazzling light being sunlight reflected off the rippling scales of the gwiber's gently-beating wings. The corona of unnatural rainbow-hued light would make any ordinary horse bolt and even caused Drystan's doughty steed to shie-back in terror. But he caught the horse's head and managed to keep him charging towards the firedrake. For, as he came to within a few galloped paces of the beast the creature reared up serpent-like, angling its neck backwards as if to strike. Snorting, its nostrils flared open as it exhaled and vomited-forth two searing gouts of flame.

Desperately, Drystan wheeled his horse about to escape the flames and though the fire blackened his armour his rearing steed caught the brunt of the burning flames. The faithful animal stumbled and died but Drystan sprang away from its back, landing on his feet in the form of the fabled three-horned bull. For this was Drystan's cyneddf — when attacked he could assume the form of any beast he so desired. In his bull form he charged the gwiber knocking it onto its back. But the wyrm wrapped its tail around the bull-Drystan and inexorably began to squeeze. Instantly, Drystan transformed into a mouse and then back into a man.

Raising his sword he swung the blade with all his might and struck the gwiber a mighty blow but the blade simply bounced uselessly from the beast's armoured scales. Instantly Drystan transmogrified into a bear and walked in to embrace his opponent's form. But the gwiber enfolded Drystan within its own coils as it brought its head back to strike at its opponent. Again Drystan transformed himself — this time becoming an eagle that tore with beak and talons at the serpent's eyes. Angered at the bird's attack the beast thrashed its head, trying to clamp its jaws about Drystan's body. However, with one final strike of its beak Drystan caught one glittering orb of a serpent's eye. This burst, showering him with sticky gore.

Injured, the wyrm shrank back into opening of the pass and, sensing his advantage, Drystan became a dragon and charged at his opponent, snorting fire. But his opponent simply curled its wings about itself and waited until Drystan had vented his flame. Both firedrakes reared up, claws extended and flashing, and they began tearing at each others' scales as their heads bumped and butted against each other.

The mid-day sun rose in the heavens and sank towards dusk, but still the battle ensued. Neither party gaining advantage nor yielding any quarter. They spent the entirety of the night locked in mortal embrace until daybreak set scales gleaming like burnished beacons.

Nearly dead from exhaustion the bright lights still managed, somehow, to revive Drystan and he broke away from the gwiber's embrace. Turning away, he shifted to the great serpent's newly-blinded side and charging before the beast could react he raised his sword and drove it into the gwiber's empty eye socket. With a crunch of compacted bone the sword dove into the wyrm's brain and instantly the beast convulsed and died.

It's death-throes caused the beast to vomit forth a black bile that struck Drystan's unguarded arm. Exhausted by his travails and with the gwiber's venom slowly coursing through him Drystan nearly fainted. Though he retained sufficient presence of mind to excise the dragon's tongue and hide it by his horse before collapsing to the ground.

Now it just so happened that the man whom Drystan had unhorsed earlier was none other than Kulfanwyd's penteulu and he desired the hand of Esyllt Fynwen for himself. Though he was a coward, still did he return, secretly, with his companions to the gwiber's lair. Whereupon they found the beast to have been slain. With some effort he managed to excise the beast's head from its body and hanging it on his steed's pommel he bore it away to Kulfanwyd mab Goryon and claimed his prize.

When Kulfanwyd daw the penteulu approach with the beast's head bouncing on his steed's flank he could not credit what he saw. Yet, the evidence seemed plain and wishing justice to be done Kulfanwyd assembled the entirety of his Llys that his penteulu could furnish proof of his victory before them. News of the penteulu's 'feat' eventually reached Esyllt and first she laughed that a coward could achieve such a feat; then she wailed, bemoaning her fate. The following morning, believing that some trick had been played upon them she took Golwg Hafddydd her handmaiden and Perynys her macwy and they rode forth from the Llys towards the pass and the gwiber's lair. From afar they could see the wyrm's corpse, tail curled, wings crumpled and neck arched in its death throes. Around were hoof-marks; these seemingly from a steed not shod in the land of Prydyn. Riding closer they saw a horse, charred and dead though what remained of its raiments indicated an origin far to the south. Some estron must, truly, have slain the beast and they sought him long. Finally, Golwg Hafddydd caught a glimpse of a metallic gleam in the long rushes of the nearby marshland. Bloody, bruised and near death he might be, but the man still lived. Perynys placed him across his own horse and they rode slowly back to the Llys where they stole secretly into the women's' chamber where Esyllt left the brave knight in the care of her mother, Penarwan after informing her of what had transpired. Penarwan undressed the knight, salving his wounds as she progressed the dragon's tongue fell out of the flank of his tunic. Seeing this Penarwan's eyes widened and by dint of a herb broth she managed to revive the valiant hero.

'Stranger,' began Penarwan, 'I know thee of the true slayer of the gwiber; but our penteulu, a liar and a coward, cut off the beast's head and now claims my daughter, Esyllt, for his prize. Canst thou be ready two days hence to give him the lie in combat?'

'Lady,' Drystan croaked 'tis but little time hence. Though thy skills, methinks, are mighty and I am certain though shall cure my. With the gwiber did I conquer Esyllt and upon this penteulu perhaps I may re-conquer her.'

Penarwan brewed him strong brews and prepared poultices to soothe his wounds. On the morrow Esyllt drew him a bath laced with healing herbs and as she undressed his wounds and washed the last of the blood from his face, preparing to anoint him with a balm of her mother's creation she saw a strange smile upon the stranger's face. Which was when she recognized Drystan as the slayer of the Morhull whom she had cured almost a year previously. In seeing the fair knight once more love for him blossomed in Esyllt's breast, just as Drystan's love for her grew the stronger; though he knew that it should never be. Though he loved her still. 'Lady,' Drystan said, 'I thank thee for tending to my wounds and for quickening my spirt. But I did this deed for my uncle, March mab Meirchion of great renown.'

'Why wouldst thou do this?' Esyllt enquired, incredulous.

'For when I told my uncle of thy beauty and thy ministrations he fell in love and became determined to have thee as a wife. Thus he sent me north as an envoy to sue for thy hand. The presence of the gwiber was opportune for now the promise of thy hand is mine.'

Esyllt saw the truth in his words and she felt great disappointment. Yet, hope still smouldered within her for even promised to March as she seemed to be she would be close to Drystan. Thus she continued with her ministrations, pressing the unguent into his flesh. This done, Drystan asked for Perynys to attend him and asked requested that he ride post-haste towards the dock where he would find Drystan's company. They were to array themselves in their finery and ride post-haste towards Kulfanwyd's Llys.

On the morn, as Drystan's troupe, arrayed in their finest raiment trooped into Kulfanwyd's Llys, Drystan and the penteulu were taken in to stand before Kulfanwyd mab Goryon and his teulu. Whereupon Kulfanwyd's penteulu rose and bowing to the teulu he addressed Kulfanwyd, saying: 'My lord, I proffer the head of the gwiber in irrefutable proof that the beast was dispatched by mine own hand. By right of combat I claim the hand of thy daughter, Esyllt as was promised.'

At this Esyllt stood and presented Drystan to the Llys. 'Lords,' she said 'I have here by my side a man, gentle born, known as Drystan mab Tallwch and he challenges thy penteulu for lies and deception. This being the selfsame Drystan who rid our lands of the Morhull.'

Stepping forwards Drystan unwrapped the gwiber's tongue from the folds of a golden parcel and presented the bundle to Kulfanwyd. 'My lords,' he said, 'here is the tongue of the gwiber, killed and excised by my own hand. I put my self in peril of death to rid you of this beast. Now I offer my body again in combat with thy penteulu to prove the rightness of my claim.

Drawing his sword he offered the hilt to the penteulu who cast a glance upwards at his face before glancing away and then backing off. Thus was Drystan's claim proven.

Sheathing his sword, Drystan walked a pace towards Kulfanwyd whence he extracted his sword and proffered its hilt too the lord of the Llys. 'My lord, Kulfanwyd, I offer my sword to thee, for I am thy servant, just as I am the servant of my lord March mab Marchiawn of Glywysing. For, when I told my lord of thy daughter he was determined to sue for her hand. Thus I came to this land and it was in the name of March that I slew the gwiber. That the realms of Glywysing and Prydyn may have eternal peace my lord March sues for the hand of the fair Esyllt. These hundred knights of high regard stand witness to this and I claim Esyllt's hand as my right for defeating the gwiber — not for myself but for my liege-lord.'

Kulfanwyd and the lords of his Llys were content with this. Thus did Kulfanwyd stand and taking Esyllt by the hand he made Drystan swear an oath that he would loyally convey the fair one safely to the realm of Glywysing and his liege-lord. Thus, for the love of his uncle did Drystan conquer Esyllt of the golden hair.

Drystan and his men were feasted at the Llys of Kulfanwyd and they delighted in the revelries. But soon enough the day for Esyllt's delivery to Glywysing came and they boarded Drystan's vessel before setting-off to the southlands. Despite the presence of her handmaiden, Golwg Hafddydd, Esyllt wept as they cast their moorings and she left her homeland behind. For her future was certain and it was not the one that she wished upon herself. One morn, the wind slackened and the sails hang listless. Drystan had them heave-to near Mannan's Isle where the knights of Glywysing and the ship's company disembarked. Only Esyllt and her handmaiden remained aboard and when Drystan approached Esyllt to comfort her Esyllt sent her handmaiden away on a pretence of finding wine. Thus Drystan and Esyllt, loving each other, but destined to be apart, fell into one another's' arms and into each other's bower. Their ardour was only cooled as Golwg Hafddydd entered and came upon them. But she was bound to her mistress and thus became complicit in their love.

All too quickly the winds increased in strength and it was time for them all to depart for the shores of Glywysing. Upon the foredeck of the vessel Drystan and Esyllt stood side by side watching as the sun set on their final day together and the winds took them towards the inevitability of the future. Turning their backs they left for their separate births. Though, on the morn as they came to dock and March mab Meirchion came to greet them upon the shore Drystan took Esyllt's hand and led her towards his arglwydd. Taking his intended's hand March led her to his llys and as the members of his teulu gathered from the realms of Brython and Picti, both, they prepared for the wedding. Nine days later, Esyllt was wed to March by the rites of the monks and the rights of the elder ways. Thus did Esyllt become the lady of Glywysing, March's consort.

Though Esyllt was March's consort and spent much of her time in the Llys, Drystan still sought opportunities for trysts with her and as March's penteulu opportunities came quite frequently. ^[‡]Drystan sought such an opportunity one morn as he came across March's swineherd. A far more important man in March's court than might be supposed, this, for he tended very special swine. White-bodied, red-eared sows from Pwyll of Dyfed's own herd. Those selfsame sows which he had been gifted by Arawn, lord of Annwfn. Thus it was not an easy think to bid this fellow leave his post. No matter what the errand. And yet, Drystan was the penteulu and his word held almost as much sway as that of March himself. The swineherd was obliged to as Drystan asked of him, so that when Drystan promised that he, himself, would tend the swine if only the swineherd would fetch fair Esyllt to that spot, the swineherd nodded acceptance and went to find his mistress. In the distance Drystan saw a rider approach, a man richly-arrayed in the finery of a leader of mean. A warrior, moreover, for he wore a shield at his back and had a longspear strapped to his steed's flank. Casting a glamour Drystan assumed the appearance of the swineherd whom he'd sent to find Esyllt and hefting a stout hazel switch he waited for the visitor to approach. As the figure came closer Drystan saw that he was none other than his own Uncle. Intrigued by what the chief arglwydd of Ynys Prydain was doing here, Drystan decided to maintain his glamour and see what transpired. The steed approached the long-way around so that the weapons arrayed on the steed's left flank were revealed to Drystan's view.

Slowing his steed to a stately trot Arthur slowly approached the 'swineherd'. Raising one hand in greeting he maintained the other on the pommel of his sword, showing Drystan that he meant business. 'Good day,' Arthur proclaimed as he drew abreast. Drystan rose and bowed, as a man of his assumed station would do. 'Good day, arglwydd' he responded 'how may I assist thee?'

'The swine,' Arthur pointed towards the contented sows, 'they are the sows of my cousin, March ap Meirchion, I take it?'. Drystan nodded his assent as Arthur continued: 'then I am here to claim my share of the swine, as your unben has promised. That one there...' he pointed towards the largest show in a nearby group, '...shall be my payment.'

'My lord...' Drystan responded 'I know nothing of this; and as these swine are in my charge I cannot let thee pass. If you would only fetch March mab Meirchion to vouchsafe the veracity of your words. But for now thou cannot pass.' At this Arthur simply nodded his head, turned his horse's head around and made as if to ride away. Within moments Arthur re-appeared over the crest of the nearest rise. He drove a dozen horses before him and seemed to be leading something behind him on leashes. The steeds bore high saddles upon their backs and their bridles were decked with gold. Upon their withers the steeds bore a golden shield. Behind his own horse Arthur led twelve greyhounds. Each of black coat and white belly. They were led by golden chains and bore golden collars about their necks. These Arthur brought before the 'swineherd' before saying. 'These I offer to thy arglwydd in exchange for his swine. Drystan walked forwards as if to consider the offer. Laying his arm on the flank of one of the horses he hefted one of the golden shields, raising it towards him as if to take a closer look. Raising the shield towards him he took a bite and almost immediately spat-out a chunk of fungus. Immediately the glamour that Arthur had engendered dissipated and his gifts vanished. Holding aloft a handful of dust Drystan enquired: 'Arglwydd, wouldst thou proffer this in exchange for my master's swine?' For Drystan himself was a master of illusion and had easily seen through the glamour Arthur wrought. Finding himself checked once more Arthur drew his sword and charged at the upstart before him. Slowly raising himself upright Drystan stepped towards the charging horse and between one step and the next he transformed himself into the semblance of a giant dark-pelted bear. Seeing this fearsome creature advancing on it Arthur's steed reared and shied away. Nimbly Arthur jumped from the saddle and as he advanced on bear-Drystan he seemed to grow in stature until he over-topped his ursine opponent by a full head. Sword clashed against claws as they locked in battle and the two opponents closed in on one another. Weapons locked, the combatants grappled with one another neither giving any quarter to his opponent. Arthur caught the bear in his grasp but Drystan transformed into a mouse and escaped but Arthur saw him and lifted his foot to stamp on him. At that instant Drystan became a bull and tossed Arthur into the air. Landing nimbly on his feet Arthur became human-sized and seizing his spear from the ground he hurled it at bull Drystan. But he became an eagle and snatched the spear from the air. Assuming the form of the swineherd once more Drystan snapped the spear in twain and cast it to the earth. Arthur fetched his dagger, carnwennan, from out his belt but instead of hurling it at Drystan he hefted it point-first and struck it deep into the ground. 'Friend,' Arthur said, 'thou art no swineherd, though thou dost thy master, March, great honour by thy deeds. Come, cousin, our fight is at an end; thou hast won. Show me thy true face that I may greet thee properly.' Whereupon Drystan resumed his own form and walked forwards to greet his uncle. The two men embraced and walked together to March's Llys where the tale of the morning's exploits could be told. And this is why Drystan is known as one of the 'Three Powerful Swineherds of the Island of Britain'^[⁑].

Several moons later and the Gwyddyl were invading the island of Mona once again. Arthur assembled his court and all the heroes of the Island of the Mighty into a great host to drive the invaders from the island. Drystan sailed north in the great ship of Math and Esyllt and they made landfall at the Caer in Arfon where Arthur had made court. The great host made their way across the straits unto the land of Mona, where they engaged the invaders. Though the battle was fierce, the heroes came to the fore: Cei, Bedwyr, Greidiawl, Gwalchmei and Drystan, too. Gwalchmei was the leader in battle, as befitted his status as Arthur's nephew, the son of Arthur's sister. But Gwalchmei was counted as the most courteous man in Arthur's court and he could not take the fore whilst the son of a son of another of Arthur's sisters was on the filed. Thus he gave Drystan the honour of standing by his side and both took the fore upon the field of battle. Drystan tore into the enemy host with the strength of three and each time he struck a blow a foeman died and each time a blow was struck upon him the foeman also died. Thus were the Gwyddyl driven from the field of battle and into the sea whence they had come. For this was Drystan numbered amongst the three Enemy-subduers of the Island of Britain and the three Battle-Diademed Men of the Island of Britain. For this service was he appointed his own macwy, Bach Bychan (Small, the little one).

The victorious host journeyed north to the Llys of Arthur where they were honoured and feasted, as befitted their victorious status. Though March mab Meirchion took his vessel along the coast, Esyllt persuaded her husband to allow her to travel with Drystan, telling March that she would be entirely safe, protected by his penteulu. Thus were the lovers able to consummate their love on the long journey to the northlands. At Arthur's Llys Drystan and Esyllt had to be more circumspect about their relationship. But the northland was their home and with the aid of Golwg Hafddydd, Esyllt's handmaiden, and Bach Bychan, Drystan's macwy they were successful in arranging many clandestine encounters. But their success made them incautious and March finally gained knowledge of their activities and determined to put an end to the lovers' clandestine activities.

^[⁂]Meanwhile, Drystan mab Tallwch and Esyllt, wife of March ab Merichion fled into the depths of the Celyddon woods along with Golwg Hafddydd and Bach Bychan who brought wine and pastries for them and within the depths of the woods a bower of leaves was made for the lovers. March mab Meirchiawn went to complain to Arthur or his treatment at Drystan's hand, to entreat Arthur to avenge him for the insult offered to him; for he was nearer kin to Arthur than Drystan. March mab Meirchion being a first cousin to Arthur whereas Drystan was his cyfyrdar; the nephew-son of a first cousin.

'I shall go,' said Arthur, 'myself and my teulu; to seek either restitution or retribution by the shedding of blood.' Then they surrounded the woods of Celyddon.

Drystan's cyneddf was that whoever drew blood upon him died, and whoever Drystan drew blood upon also died. So that when Esyllt heard the voices of men surrounding them she trembled against Drystan who enquired of her why she trembled so. She responded that it was because of fear for him and Drystan sang this englyn:

Esyllt, fair, be not afraid:
Whilst I protect thee,
Three-hundred knights cannot abduct thee.
Nor thrice a hundred men at arms.

With this Drystan rose and taking his sword in hand he cut through the first battalion as if they were cords of wood until he reached March mab Meirchion. Now March knew full well of Drystan's abilities and said to his men: 'I must kill myself in order to kill him.' His men all responded with: 'Shame be upon us if we interfere with him.' Thus Drystan was able to advance through three battalions entirely unopposed.

Meanwhile Cei Hir (the tall), who was in love with Golwg Hafddydd, advanced on Esyllt's bower and reaching her he sang this triad:

Blessed Esyllt, loving gull,
As we converse, I say
Drystan had escaped

Esyllt responded with:

Blessed Cei, if thou speakest truth,
As thou converse with me
Thou shall attain a gilded mistress

Cei

I seek not a mistress, gold
As thou dost know
Golwg Hafddydd do I seek

Esyllt

If this tale be true
That came from out thy lips
Golwg Hafddydd shall be thine

March mab Meirchion went a second time to Arthur for he had received nether satisfaction nor the payment of blood for the insult to his wife. At this Arthur said: 'I know no counsel to give thee, [for no man can approach Drystan] save to sent musicians to play to him from afar and thereafter to send bards to sing him englynion of praise.' March took Arthur's counsel and this they did. Drystan called the various artisans to him and gave them handfuls of gold and silver for their songs. After them a man was sent to sue for peace, this being silver-tongued Gwalchmei. Upon reaching Drystan Gwalchmei sang this poem:

Tumult is the nature of the wave
When the sea is at flood
Who then art thou, fair warrior

Drystan responded with:

Tumultuous are the waves and thunder, both
In their bursting forth let them in turmoil be
At the day of conflict Drystan am I

Gwalchmei

Drystan, with bright qualities endowed
Whose spear has oft been cast in toil of war
I am Gwalchmei, nephew to Arthur

Drystan

Gwalchmei, there swifter than Myrddin,
Shouldst though in danger be
Blood shall I spill until it reached our knees

Gwalchmei

Drystan, for thy sake now I wouldst strive
Until my wrist in battle failed
For thee would I my utmost do

Drystan

In defiance do I ask
I ask it not through fear —
Who are these men of war before me now?