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the treasure trove. “You have served me well. Indeed, I did not know I was so wealthy.”
    There was so much, and all so lavish, that I wondered aloud to Tegid, “Can I afford this?”
    The bard only laughed and indicated the shimmering mound with a sweep of his hand. “The greater the generosity, the greater the king.”
    â€œIf that is the way of it, then give it all away—and more! Let men say that never in Albion was such a wedding celebration as this. And let all who hear of it in later days sicken with envy that they were not here!”
    Cynan, arriving with some of his men just then, looked upon the treasure and declared himself well ready to win his share. Bran and the Ravens came behind him, calling loudly for the games to begin. Alun challenged Cynan then and there to choose whatever game of skill or chance he preferred—and he should be bested at it.
    â€œYou are a wonder, Alun Tringad,” Cynan crowed. “Can it be you have forgotten the defeat I gave you when last you tried your skill against me?”
    â€œDefeat?” Alun cried. “Am I to believe what I am hearing? The victory was mine, as you well know.”
    â€œMan, Alun—I am surprised your teeth keep company with your tongue, such lies you tell. Still, for the sake of this festive day,” Cynan declared, “I will not hold your impudence against you.”
    â€œIt was your voice, Cynan Machae, cried mercy, as I recall,” Alun replied amiably. “Yet, like you, I am willing to forget what is past for the sake of the day.”
    They fell to arguing then about the size of the wager—pledging prizes not yet won—and quickly drew a crowd of onlookers eager to back one or the other of the champions and so reap a share of the rewards.
    They were still settling the terms when Goewyn leaned close. “If you do not begin the games soon, husband, we will be forced to listen to their boasting all day.”
    â€œVery well,” I agreed and rose from my chair to address the crowd. Tegid called for silence and, when the people saw that I would speak, they quieted themselves to listen. “Let us enjoy the day given to us!” I said. “Let us strive with skill and accept with good grace all that chances our way, that when the games are done, we may retire to the feasting hall better friends than when the day began.”
    â€œWell said, lord,” Tegid declared. “So be it!”
    Wrestling was first, followed by various races, including a spectacular horse race, which had everyone exhausted by the time the winner— a young man from Calbha’s clan—crossed the finish line. I awarded him a horse and, much to the crowd’s amusement, he promptly retired from the games lest he lose his prize in a foolish wager.
    I tried at first to match each award to its winner, but I soon gave up and lost track and took whatever came to hand. Indeed, as the games proceeded, I called on Goewyn to help, so that sometimes I awarded the prizes and sometimes the winners received their trophies from Goewyn—which I suspected most preferred. I noticed that many who came to the mound to marvel at the prizes stayed to feast their eyes on Goewyn. Time and again I found myself stealing glances at her—like a beggar who has found a jewel of immense value and must continually reassure himself that it is not a dream, that it does exist and, yes, that it belongs to him.
    One young boy came to the mound and found a copper cup, which once he had picked up the thing, he could not bring himself to put down. “You like that cup,” I said, and he blushed, for he did not know he was observed. “Tell me, how would you win it?”
    He thought for a moment. “I would wrestle Bran Bresal himself,” he answered boldly.
    â€œBran might be reluctant to risk his great renown by engaging one so young,” I answered. “Perhaps you would be persuaded to pit your