The Wizard’s Wife, Part 1

ONCE APON A TIME, in days of yore and times long gone before, a young woman called Mabli lived in a small village town in the kingdom of Hyfaidd Hen. Mabli was betrothed to a young man named Llwyd.

Llwyd was learning to become a wizard, but not a black one and never had anyone accused him of using the dark arts. Mabli loved Llwyd, and most especially how he would draw his flowing cloak around himself in a dramatic and exiting way she found very romantic.  The townsfolk also had great admiration for Llwyd because even though he was still learning his craft, he was already quite good at helping to resolve some of their daily annoyances. He knew a spell to remove pests such as mice from their homes and he had a special cauldron which repaired common household tools and make them good as new.

Mabli was a clever and capable young woman who was not afraid of hard work. Perhaps her only fault was that she was ambitious, and she dearly longed to become part of the great King’s court.  She desired this so dearly that she told Llwyd that she would not marry him unless he became the King’s wizard. 

It was well-known by the folk who lived in the kingdom, that one of the King’s knights, Sir Gwal, a powerful man with many followers, had been badly treated by Pwyll, the King of the neighbouring kingdom Dyfed. Gwal had been tricked by Pwyll into stepping into a magical bag where he was kicked and savagely beaten like an animal and not released until he agreed to give up his intended wife, the enchanting and otherworldly Rhiannon. King Pwyll had since passed away and Dyfed was now ruled by his son Pryderi, but Sir Gwal remained obsessed by his desire to revenge the wrong that had been done to him and could think of nothing else.

One day, Mabli had an idea. 

“Llwyd,” she asked, “If you could help Sir Gwal gain revenge from the wrong done to him in the past, perhaps he might influence the King to invite you to be his court wizard. You are good at removing household pests, perhaps you could cast a simple spell to cause all the horses and livestock at King Pryderi’s castle grounds to disappear.”  

Mabli pestered Llwyd so much about this idea that, anxious to please his betrothed, he agreed to travel to the town and talk to Gwal.  After a long day of waiting to be seen by the knight, Llwyd outlined the plan.  Gwal’s response was more than enthusiastic. “Brilliant!” he cried, for as far as Gwal was concerned, anything that would make life miserable in Dyfed was fine by him.

The next day, Llwyd set off for Dyfed. When he arrived within the walls of King Pryderi’s castle grounds, he set about to cast his spell upon the inhabitants of Dyfed.  Within moments, there was a tumultuous noise and a blanket of mist fell upon the castle grounds and it became so dark that nothing could be seen. And when it became bright again, there were no more flocks, herds or dwelling-places; no building nor beast, smoke nor fire, man nor dwelling place, only the court buildings which were empty and uninhabited, except for Pryderi, his wife Cigfa, his mother Rhiannon and her husband Manawydan.

Llwyd quickly returned to inform Sir Gwal.

“Delightful!” cried Gwal, and he was so pleased with what Llwyd had done to cause this great misfortune in Dyfed that he convinced the King to invite Llwyd to become his court wizard.  

Mabli was thrilled! She and Llwyd soon became a popular and sought-after pair at the King’s Court. They were married and before you know it, Mabli was expecting a baby.

Even though revenge had been sought — and successfully achieved — it soon became obvious that Gwal was not satisfied. He continued to rage and obsess about how he could make life miserable for his arch enemies. 

Once again Mabli convinced her husband to intervene. 

“You are good at helping people with your magic cauldron,” she said. “Why don’t you create a cauldron that might trap King Pryderi?” 

And once again Llwyd, anxious to please his pregnant wife, agreed. 

“Brilliant!” cried the powerful knight when he heard the idea and once again, Llwyd headed for Dyfed where he magically placed a special cauldron on a hill which trapped Pryderi as well as his mother Rhiannon. And even though they eventually escaped, the story of their predicament caused much hilarity among Gwal and his followers.

Well, do you think that was enough for our dear Mabli and Sir Gwal?  Of course not!  As you likely guessed, Gwal continued to obsess about his revenge and Mabli continued to dream of ways to further ingratiate Llwyd to him and gain popularity at court. 

“You are good with mice,” Mabli said to Llwyd one morning.  “Why don’t you temporarily transform some of Gwal’s men into an army of mice to eat all of the crops in Dyfed?”   

“You have outdone yourself Llwyd!” cried Gwal when he heard the idea and, once again, the tired and beleaguered Llwyd headed for Dyfed with a retinue of men who he temporarily turned into mice  This time however, it seemed that Llwyd might be approaching his limits, for unfortunately, there were only enough mice to eat the wheat from one field.

“Not good enough!” shouted Sir Gwal when he heard the news.  “I will not be happy until there is no longer a kernel of wheat left in Dyfed.”  Llwyd left the city again, this time with the rest of Gwal’s men. Once again, he turned them into mice and they ate the wheat from a second field, but still one final field remained.

“Oh dear Llwyd” cried Mabli. She finally realized that the knight’s obsession with revenge had gone completely out of control and now began to fear that his rage would be directed at Llwyd and cause them to be banished from court.

“Dear husband, let me and the ladies of the court help you.  Transform us into mice and we will eat the remaining wheat.”

“Dear sweet Mabli,” replied Llwyd, “When will this ever stop?  You are expecting our child. Why would you risk yourself in this way?” 

But stubborn Mabli would not take no for an answer.  She begged Llwyd to let her go.  “Let me fix this”, she sobbed. “What could possibly go wrong?”  

What indeed?

But that, my friends, is a story for another time.   

This fairytale is based on a story contained in the Third Branch of the Mabinogi about the Welsh nobleman Manawydan who captures a pregnant mouse from a large group of mice who have stripped his wheatfields bare. Manawydan prepares to hang her from tiny gallows he constructs and as he is about to do so, he encounters various travelling figures who attempt to dissuade him.

Interestingly, there are tendrils of this story that link to a centuries-old folk song, “The Maid Freed from the Gallows” which was recorded by the Huddie “Lead Belly” Ledbetter in 1939 as “The Gallis Pole” and in 1970 as “Gallows Pole“, by Led Zeppelin, on their album Led Zeppelin III.

Here is a beautiful version of Gallow’s Pole recorded by Willie Watson in 2017.

And Zepplin’s version: