The echo of crows, p.21
The Echo of Crows, page 21
Huw then turned to the couple before him and asked if they did freely commit to take their vows. They turned to each other and said ‘Yes’, almost in unison. He then turned to hand a printed card to the Archdeacon and held up his own.
‘I’ll read the vows in early Welsh and th’Archdeacon will follow with the translation,’ he announced.
‘Cymeret ir vorwyn in gureic, ceryt in ois oisau.’
Siân followed with, ‘Do you take this maiden as a wife? Will you love her for ever and ever?’
Lol, having practised his response with Huw, replied, ‘Vynaf,’ and Siân said, ‘That’s “I choose” or, literally, “I insist.”’
Huw followed up quickly, sensing a cheer of approval about to break out.
He turned to Merrily, asking, ‘Cymeret it gur in ur. Ceryt in ois oisau.’ And Siân put in, ‘Do you take this man as a husband? Will you love him for ever and ever?’
Merrily looked into Lol’s eyes and said, clearly, ‘Vynaf… I choose.’
She then heard a frenzied rustling sound coming from Gomer, as he tried to extract a small black box from a too-small pocket on his tunic. Eventually, the box was produced and handed to Lol with a flourish.
Lol opened it and extracted a ring and held it up to Merrily between his finger and thumb and reached for her right hand. He pushed it gently onto her third finger.
Huw said, ‘I now pronounce you wed,’ nodded to the assembled and joined in the cheers, which resounded into the church and around the outside. It took several minutes for the outpouring to die down.
Gomer was the first to speak, framing the question that seemed to be on the tips of several lips. He looked at Lol.
‘Sorry to ask, boy, but shouldn’t it be… er… on her other hand?’ There was a background buzz of agreement.
Lol stepped back and took hold of Merrily’s hands. He knelt down, still holding them.
‘There was an early tradition of promising, like getting engaged with a ring and then, for the wedding itself, the ring went from the right hand to the left. So here goes: Merrily, will you marry me in your own church when the Ledwardine Festival takes place in a few months’ time? This ring represents the bonding of a couple no longer here but also us, if you’ll have me. I love you and I’ll always love you.’
Merrily bent down and kissed his hands and head.
‘Yes, yes,’ she said. Another cheer went up, as though each participant was competing for the highest decibel count.
‘It’s lovely,’ Sophie said. ‘Could be a wedding or engagement ring.’
‘It’s finest Clogau gold,’ Huw said, ‘and a band of diamonds set in.’
Merrily stared. ‘You had a hand in this, then, along with others, I suspect. Yes, you, Jane. I never expected anything and certainly not a ring like this.’
Autumn, joining the admirers, shared some of her expertise. ‘It varied in early medieval times,’ she said. ‘The wedding token could be a ring or a brooch or nothing.’
‘Well, I’m glad you didn’t get the brooch, Merrily,’ Siân said. ‘That is so beautiful and so romantically given.’ She gave Lol a pat on the back.
‘Time to go t’pub, is it?’ Huw said. ‘Follow me.’
Eirion reached for Jane’s hand as they set off down the path behind the rest. ‘I hope he means the Black Swan, Jane. I can’t go in the local here, dressed like this.’
Jane laughed. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll all get to change at the vicarage, quick. I’m starving for a pub meal. Thanks, though, for playing a part. Did you think it was worth it?’
‘Definitely,’ he said. ‘Are you glad that your mum and Lol are getting married soon?’
She smiled. ‘Definitely, though, medievally speaking, they already are. Amazing that Huw got the ring, with a bit of help from me and Lol. I got an old ring of Mum’s for the size, Huw called in a favour from a Welsh jeweller who got the Clogau one, which I picked from Net images, and Lol paid for it.
‘That’s why he’s off touring tomorrow. He was given £1,000 to sign up. Mum will be shocked if she finds out he’s spent most of it on the ring, so don’t say a word.’
Suddenly, everyone stopped on the path near the gate.
‘Hey, hey, look at this,’ Merrily said, pointing to the ground and bending over. They all gathered round in a circle to get a view.
Autumn stepped forward and peered, slowly straightening with a look of delight and astonishment.
‘Two crow feathers, two!’ she exclaimed. ‘Two. Can’t believe it. Astonishing. Rare enough when they’re shedding old feathers in the summer but in November? In winter?’
‘You think it means summat?’ Huw asked.
‘It means everything, everything good,’ Autumn said. ‘It’s like a miracle. Some say it’s a gift from the angels. The feathers symbolize wisdom, transformation, divine protection, death and rebirth. And, in this case, I think it’s a sign from loved ones – or lovers – who’ve passed.’
‘You mean Clydawg and his Meleri?’ Huw said.
‘Who else?’ Autumn picked up the feathers, lovingly. ‘I truly believe it’s a sign of their thanks and their way of reaching out to Lol and Merrily.’ She handed a feather to each of them. ‘Your first wedding gift.’
To both of them, she added, very sincerely, ‘They’ve taken you under their angel wings.’
There was complete silence for several seconds, then a fluttering sound in an overhanging tree. Everyone looked up and saw two large birds, perched together against an evening sky. They joined in a duo of cawing, then moved closer in a touching togetherness. Then falling silent.
‘That,’ Autumn said, ‘is to let us know their ancestors saw all that happened in the past and that they’ll go on in the Black Mountains recording events for all time. Today will never be forgotten. They’ll carry the message.’
Epilogue
AUTUMN WISE NEVER needed to see the hanged effigy. Merrily and Huw burned it at The Old Dairy, which now has a pleasant atmosphere. Huw did go on retreat, deep in the Welsh countryside. He intends to carry on his ministry, nearly as before but free as a crow.
Hopes are high for Ledwardine Festival, 2026.
Lol, Moira and fellow musicians are all keen to appear, along with some of Herefordshire’s finest, including the Sproatly Smith band and its psychedelic take on English folk.
Notes
Background
All the novels in this series are set in real locations and based on legends woven into the Herefordshire landscape. It’s a tapestry of changing colours and vistas which hold the county’s history in every pasture, meadow, copse and rock formation.
In this novel, we find ourselves in a unique part of the county, specifically in the village of Longtown and its hamlet neighbour, Clodock. Both nestle near the Welsh border against the stunning backdrop of the Black Mountains, which incorporate Hatterall Ridge and the Cat’s Back. Here is where travellers are best advised to carry spare torches, just in case something swoops down…
The church at Clodock is of a size to suit a large town. It stands tall, as a monument to Clydawg, King of Ewias (or Ewyas, meaning sheep district), whose martyred remains are said to form part of its very foundations. The hamlet and its neighbouring ribbon village (hence Longtown) have intriguing histories and capture the imagination, as evidenced by featuring in another spooky novel. That was published not long before this one was finished. Pure coincidence, despite what Jane Watkins might think. The authors and the plots are unknown to each other and Clodock, though small, is big enough to take two books and, hopefully, the spotlights they shed on it. After all, it was once a magnet for large numbers of pilgrims and that tradition continues. It’s a favourite section and feature of the Golden Valley Pilgrims’ Way; an echo of its past, no doubt observed by the all-seeing crows. The Way begins and ends at Hereford Cathedral, where Merrily and Sophie now meet more frequently in the Gatehouse office for deliverance conflabs.
As for Merrily and Lol, this book, for some, settles the marriage question. The ceremony to exchange medieval vows will be enough for those of a secular persuasion. Done and dusted, save for the registrar. For others, they might be glad to know that invitations will be on the cards soon. The Wedding of the Year in Ledwardine Church is scheduled to take place during the long-awaited Ledwardine Music Festival. Gomer Parry is already at work, tidying the churchyard and preparing to accompany Lol in search of a new best suit.
The shelf
Among the books consulted for this one:
Michael Raven: A Guide to Herefordshire
Self-published but so professionally written and produced that most national publishers could not have done it better. Excellent on the Longtown and Clodock murders, court hearings and legends. And it catches the atmosphere of communities below the Black Mountains which weight and dim the atmosphere and are governed by entities that may appear as crows, giving form, sound and movement to the area’s most sinister folklore.
Ella Mary Leather: The Folk-lore of Herefordshire (Now, Logaston)
Never dates. Ella Mary knew all the old stories that matter.
Martin Cook and Neil Kidd: The March of Ewyas. The Story of Longtown Castle and the de Lacy Dynasty (Logaston)
An essential, beautifully produced volume with excellent photographs showing details tourists miss and answering questions including some they never thought to ask. Covers crucial history in a neglected border area.
Pat Hughes and Heather Hurley: The Story of Ross (Logaston)
Ron Shoesmith: Castles and Moated Sites of Herefordshire (Logaston)
Jason Bray: Deliverance (Coronet)
Modern minister’s personal account of his experiences in exorcism in Wales and the border. Convincing.
Martin Israel: Exorcism (SPCK)
Arguably the finest study of the techniques and intentions of deliverance.
Exorcism, edited by Dom Robert Petitpierre (Hale) The first no-nonsense, British guidebook of its kind.
Francis Young: A History of Anglican Exorcism (I.B. Tauris) Perhaps the only one.
Jacqueline Simpson: The Folklore of the Welsh Border (HarperCollins)
Philip Carr-Gomm and Richard Heygate: The Book of English Magic (Hodder)
The classic. It’s all here.
Songs
Lol Robinson’s ‘Simple Trackway Man’, his tribute to Alfred Watkins, can be found on the album A Message from the Morning, and ‘Camera Lies’, his tribute to Merrily, on its predecessor, Songs from Lucy’s Cottage, both on CD from Thin River Records and available through Terry Smith.
Expertise
Tracy Thursfield, esotericist.
Bishop Peter Fox, deeply practised in the deliverance ministry and not responsible for Huw Owen’s eccentricities.
Alun Lenny, my former BBC Wales journalist colleague and the Welsh historian who tracked down a Dark Age wedding.
Philip Hope, of Hopes of Longtown, the famous village department store, who knows how the village has changed and that the incomers in this novel don’t, I hope, reflect the real ones who I made a point of not interviewing.
Mark (the psychic farrier) Jones.
John Whitbourn, who sent Chris Catling’s feature ‘A Story of Two Castles’ in Current Archaeology not long before Alun Lenny alerted me to the book, The Vale of Ewyas (Logaston Press, 2023)
Online whizz Tom Young, who accomplished in one hour what I’d failed to do in six weeks. No wonder his Internet skills have been in demand at Westminster.
Also, Jeff and Jack Hirschfield, computer-tamers and helpers on speed-dial.
Nick Hussey, postman and mine of Herefordshire knowledge.
Terry Smith, marketing manager.
Allan Watson, Lol’s musical writing partner.
Caitlin Warrior, Phil Rickman Appreciation Society website supremo.
Anne Holt, Bev Craven, Merrily memory bank.
Gerald Roden, Ewyas Harold’s log maestro.
Paul Matthews and Sally Plumb, retired detective and NHS sister, respectively.
Publishing director Sarah Hodgson and the team at Corvus (you see, there is magic around this series) including Sarah de Souza, who moved on a few weeks before the book was finished.
Liz Hatherell, long-time and invaluable copy-editor. The best.
My ace agent, Ed Wilson, the great Andrew Hewson and all at Johnson & Alcock.
And particular thanks to Herefordshire’s pathfinder-general Garth Lawson, who links history and locations to illuminate places like probably nobody has since Mrs Ella Mary Leather.
And, of course, my wife, Carol (the Cat), who found time to resume editing, on top of all the physical stuff without which…
Phil Rickman, The Echo of Crows
