Storyteller

By G. R. Grove

“Blood and fire, gold and steel and poetry, a river’s voice in the silence of the night, and the shining strings of a harp – all these and more I have known in my time.” As a wandering storyteller and would-be bard in 6th century Britain, young Gwernin encounters enemies both human and supernatural, finds love and friendship, and learns the true meaning of a Bard’s profession.

• Language: English
• Publisher: G. R. Grove
• Release date: Sep 6, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452397818

Book preview

Discover other titles by G. R. Grove at Smashwords.com

This book is also available in print through most on-line booksellers.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover image by permission of http://www.urweg.com

For further information about the Storyteller series, see http://tregwernin.blogspot.com/

Dedicated to the Society for Creative Anachronism, and especially to the people of the Barony of Earngyld, who saw the beginning and liked it.

CONTENTS

A CIRCUIT ROUND WALES

Chapter 1 - Ghosts

Chapter 2 - The Cloak-Clasp

Chapter 3 - The Power of Names

Chapter 4 - A Fall of Mist

Chapter 5 - Gold

Chapter 6 - The Tale of Arthur the Soldier

Chapter 7 - The Birds of Rhiannon

Chapter 8 - The Black Stone

Chapter 9 - Choices

Chapter 10 - A Debt Repaid

Chapter 11 - Ynys Môn

Chapter 12 - The Reciter’s Tale

Chapter 13 - Green Shadows

Chapter 14 - Taliesin

WINTER IN THE HILLS

Chapter 15 - Talhaearn

Chapter 16 - First Lessons

Chapter 17 - The Tale of Tristfardd

Chapter 18 - Encounters on Berwyn

Chapter 19 - A Harp to Practice On

Chapter 20 - A Winter-Tale

Chapter 21 - The Gifts at Arthur’s Crowning

Chapter 22 - Insult

Chapter 23 - King Arthur’s Raid on Hell

Chapter 24 - Midwinter Night

Chapter 25 - Wolves

Chapter 26 - The Making of Arthur’s Crown

Chapter 27 - The Wild Geese

Chapter 28 - Beltane Fires

POSTSCRIPT

Appendices

Gwernin’s Wanderings

A CIRCUIT ROUND WALES

ynteu Wydyon goreu kyuarwyd yn y byt oed

And he, Gwydion, was the best teller of tales in the world…

Pedair Kainc y Mabinogi

Chapter 1 - Ghosts

Blood and fire, gold and steel and poetry, a river’s voice in the silence of the night, and the shining strings of a harp—all these and more I have known in my time. Steep mountains, dark forests, and the endless song of the rain; music and laughter and feasting in the fire-bright halls of kings; a dusty road, and a fast horse, and a good friend beside me; and the sweet taste of the mead of Dun Eidyn, with its bitter aftermath: a dragon’s hoard of memories I have gathered, bright-colored as a long summer’s day. Now they are all gone, the men and women I knew when I was young, gone like words on the wind, and I am left here in the twilight to tell you their tale. Sit, then, and listen if you will to the words of Gwernin Kyuarwyd, called Storyteller.

The place which men name Caerllion, the City of the Legions, lies on the low banks of the river Wysg not far from the sea in south Wales. Even when I first came there it lay in ruins, and that was a long lifetime ago. But many men’s lifetimes had already passed since the Eagles who built it flew south from Britain and left us on our own, to sink or swim as we could against the Saxon tide. Arthur held them for a while, checked their advance and forced them back into their beachheads of the south and east, and gave us time to breathe. But Arthur died at Camlann three years before I was born, and how long now we can hold the crumbling sea wall he built is anyone’s guess. Many a kingdom has gone under already; many a fair fortress lies now beneath that wave. I wonder if I shall not, before I die, see my fair Pengwern herself laid waste, and Cynan’s halls home to the wolf and the raven…

But I was speaking of Caerllion, and the wonder that lies there. I saw it first on a mild evening in late spring, when my friend Ieuan and I came humping our packs over the last hill-crest to the east, and saw the hearth-smoke rising from amongst the gray stone ruins at either end of the bridge. Time had not treated Caerllion kindly; the villagers’ huts for the most part were reed-thatched shells of houses that had once been crowned in red tile, with wattle and daub filling gaps here and there in their crumbling walls. Only a few buildings near the river gate were still in use; the rest of that stone-walled enclosure was full of broken rubble half grown up in alder and oak scrub, a tangled wilderness where once were only the straight lines that the Romans so loved. In the midst of it all crouched a great brown block like a small hill, its top green with grasses and willow-herb, a silent presence brooding over all the rest. Tumble-down walls and fortresses I had seen before—indeed, I was born in one, though I remember little enough of it, before the Black Year came to sweep away that life and send me to my aunt’s house in Pengwern—but this was something new, beyond my previous experience, and as always I hungered to know more.

First, however, there was the question of lodgings for the night. The inn at the east end of the bridge was still open and doing business, and there Ieuan and I made our way. It seemed strange to me, new to the road as I was, to be paying for the food and lodging which my people would have given freely to any passing traveler, but as Ieuan had explained to me, such a small place, home to no great lord, and yet located on one of the main trackways used by the merchant-kind, could not be affording unpaid hospitality to all comers. Besides, the excellence of the landlord’s ale was legendary, and well worth the small coins we exchanged for it and our supper, with the promise of more to come if my tales pleased an audience that night.

After we had struck our bargain, and eaten our supper of stew and barley bread, washed down by some of that famous ale, I left my friend chatting amiably in the tap-room and wandered out again, heading for the great ruinous hulk that had earlier caught my eye. Baths, the landlord had called them, built like everything else here by the Romans. Palaces, I thought, as I stood staring up at them from the edge of a patch of waste ground, might have been a better term. Fully two-score paces in length and perhaps half as wide, and tall as the lordliest ash tree that graces the slopes of Powys, the Baths dwarfed any king’s house that I had yet seen. Their towering walls gazed back at me out of the twilight, pieced with dark window-openings that gaped like empty eyes. I returned their stare thoughtfully, but curiosity still won out.

Crossing the waste ground where the soldiers had raced and wrestled, I picked my way forward over broken stone, clogged with blown dirt and white with bird droppings, until I stood within the gloomy vault itself. Around me the red-brick walls rose up, towering into owl-haunted cliffs and caverns, while beneath them the scummy pools of the baths themselves lay gleaming here and there like tarnished mirrors. There was a strong smell of must and decay, and a sense of ghosts watching from behind one’s shoulder. Almost it might have been the mouth of a fairy mound, a gateway to Annwn itself, and the wonders that lay there—or so I thought at the time.

The silence was eerie, with a faint echo in it as of the wind, or the sea in a shell, or distant music, so that when a bit of stone dislodged by who-knows-what dropped from somewhere above and plopped into one of the pools near me, I jumped, and stumbling on the uneven footing, found myself almost over the edge before I knew it. As I teetered on the brink, I dimly saw a leering face with snakes for hair peering out at me from among the broken tiles at my feet, and in the roof above me I heard a rustle of wings.

Then the owl came gliding down, silent as a ghost. Like a pale shadow she came, and passed so close I could feel the chill breath of her wings as they stroked the air, and see her golden eyes, bright in the white mask of her face. She sailed through one of the empty window-vaults and was gone, and the huge cold room seemed the darker and more threatening for her leaving. Yet I stood my ground for a moment more, waiting for I knew not what. And at last it came, one white feather floating slowly down to land at my feet. I bent and picked it up. It lay light in my hand, soft and weightless as a scrap of silk, real as a memory. I put it in my belt-pouch for safety, and came away; I had seen enough to slake my curiosity for that night. Behind me in the darkness I could feel the ghosts of the soldiers still watching as I went, but they were silent.

Outside the twilight seemed bright as day by comparison, the air incredibly fresh and sweet—heavy though it was with the evening scents of wood-smoke and cow byres. I looked back once from the bridge at the towering ruin, looming against the last of the sunset like a young hill. Already those who should know better are beginning to say that the Baths are really the ruins of Arthur’s Palace, built for him in the space of a night by magic. Built, so they say, by the King’s Bard himself, using nothing but harp-song and moonlight, and a strong spider’s-web of spells to bind it all in place. Traveler’s tales, or stories for children, but still… On that quiet evening it almost seemed possible. And who should know better than I what feats music may encompass? That night I earned my ale in the tap-room with the tale of Gwydion the Magician and Blodeuwedd, the woman—if she was a woman—who became an owl. And later, in my sleep, I could swear I heard the beat of ghostly wings.

All of this seems a small story to relate, a small thing to remember after so many years. And yet it sticks in my mind for many reasons, not least because of what came after, when I came to know in truth, in bone and blood and spirit, the real cost and meaning of the Gates of Annwn.

But that, O my children, is a story for another day.

Chapter 2 - The Cloak-Clasp

Nowadays I often find, looking back, that the years and journeys blend together, so I can no longer be sure as to which time or place many of my memories belong. One day on the road is much like many another, within the usual gamut of heat and cold, dust and mud, sun and rain and snow; one rough lodging much like the next. Even the faces blend together over the years, various and individual though they all are: bright with interest in my performance, or dull with boredom; young or old, sober or drunken, ill or well. But at the time of which I speak, I was still new to the road and to my trade, and every day was an adventure, every night a fresh excitement as I stretched my growing abilities. So it was with Caer Dydd, my first big festival. Every detail of it is still clear in my mind, bright as a fresh-opened flower, not only for its own sake, but also for what came after.

We arrived there on a fine spring day, not long after our stop at Caerllion. Indeed, it was for Caer Dydd we had been making all the while, and the great Beltane fair that was held there every spring, when the roads and the seas first opened to travelers and traders. Many of them came, as we did, to set up their booths by the strand, and there I first stared open-mouthed at two things I had never seen before: the sea, and the ships that lived and traveled on her back.

It was the sea that caught me first: the sea of which I had heard so often in the tales. On the sea the Romans had come to Britain, and over it they had sailed away. On the sea Maxen Wledig had come to us, and over it he had gone when he left, taking many of our warriors with him to settle Less Britain. Yes, and older still: Brân the Blesséd had crossed the sea to rescue his sister from Ireland, and into the sea had gone Dylan ail Ton after his birth, to bide there with his great seal father, and rule over it in his turn. And over the sea, more prosaically, had come the foreign traders with their bright wares to the Beltane fair at Caer Dydd.

That afternoon the sea near the mouth of the Severn stretched broad and blue away from me, wind-ruffled into short sharp waves, hiding infinite possibilities. The tide was out, and the smell of mud and fish and seaweed, and who knows what besides, was strong on the warm spring air, and the sky above loud with the crying of gulls. Three or four small boats were lying beached on the mud, while other larger ships swung at anchor some way out. Above the tide-line fishermen and traders alike had set up booths and tents, and a busy market was already in progress.

I followed Ieuan as he worked his way through the crowd—a thin crowd as yet, for it was early in the fair—looking for a place to set out his wares. This early in the year his stock consisted mostly of small, light items of bone and horn and wood—double-sided combs, elaborately carved and decorated; pins for the cloak or the hair, painted or wound with wire; cases for bronze needles; and small trinket boxes for a lady’s treasures. Rings, too, he had, and a few bracelets, fashioned of twisted copper or silver wire. Ieuan himself had made most of them during the winter, working steadily through the short days and long nights by the fire. Now he would trade them, if he could, for other small, light things of greater value, brought by the traders from overseas, to carry with us on our travels and sell or trade again along the way. Not until autumn would we go home to Pengwern.

In the meantime, here at Caer Dydd, there was the Beltane fair to enjoy, and the competitions to look forward to. Christian though these lands were then, at least in name, yet most of us held also by the old festivals, which are the rhythm of the land and the seasons. And Beltane has always been one of the Great Festivals, the spring festival that follows the first plowing. There would be days and days of celebration, and meat and drink in plenty; plenty of employment, too, for storytellers and minstrels such as we.

Whether because of its position on the coast of south Wales, a popular landfall for traders on their way to Ireland, or because there had already been a settlement there when the Romans came, Caer Dydd had fared better than her sister Caerllion, having been taken over by the local chief as a strong point rather than being left to fall to ruin. Some of the buildings in the fort had been maintained, and it was in one of these, on the last night before Beltane, that a storytelling competition took place: for as you know, many tales—Winter-tales—should only to be told in the dark half of the year, between Samhain and Beltane. There it was that I first stood up to speak in contest, to be judged against my peers.

Well I remember the flickering firelight on the roughly plastered walls and blackened roof-beams of that hall, and on the watching faces of my audience, glinting on here a fine shoulder-brooch, and there a gilded bracelet, as the owners moved. I remember the patter of rain on the roof-tiles, and the barking of dogs outside the hall, and the smell of the blue wood-smoke from the central hearth-fire that eddied now and then into my face and stung my eyes. I remember the listening silence of that crowd of men and women and children, broken from time to time by a cough or the scrape of a bench, and the beating excitement in me, half fear and half exaltation, as I first told my tale before so many, weaving with all my skill a net of words to catch and hold their interest.

I wish I could say that I won that contest, but I am sworn to keep to truth in these tales, so far as the truth may be known—for often it seems to me to change with the ob-server. No, I did not win, but my performance was well received, and toasted afterwards by one of the local lords, who gave me a ring-brooch from his own shoulder in token of his approval. A simple thing it was, but pleasant, made of good bronze, with a red enamel design covering the two terminals of the ring and the base of the pin. It had been fashioned at his own court of Dinas Powys, a short journey to the south and west from Caer Dydd. I wonder now, looking back, if it was not my choice of a tale told often in his home country that commended me to him as much as my expertise. However that may be, it was my first such moment of recognition, and shines the brighter in my memory because of it. Though I have since had many finer jewels, I still keep that brooch as a talisman. Worth is not always measured in weight of gold.

It was the same Lord Dafydd of Dinas Powys who that night issued a general invitation to all the bards and storytellers there to join him at his court for a few days after the fair ended. For, he said, it is seldom I have the enjoyment of such an array of riches as you have spread before me here, and I would fain keep it for a little longer. Moreover, I currently have no bard in my hall, and must needs chose one soon, and he grinned, least my word-fame be lost, and my name vanish with me.

So it happened that on the day after the fair Ieuan and I and several others were making our way up the steep track which led to Dinas Powys, a track deep-rutted from the wagon-loads of wine-barrels and oil-jars that had come up from the harbor earlier in the week to gladden the hearts of the merchant-kind. Ieuan was in a good mood for a change, for his trading had gone well, and our packs rode the lighter on our shoulders for it. He was a quiet man as a rule, given to gloomy silences, but that day he spoke more than usual, asking the others with us about their travels, and about the temper of the country that spring.

Quiet enough so far, said Kyan Goch, a red-headed man from Dumnonia in southwest Britain. The Saxons will likely be stirring again before long, though. Still, I suppose we should be grateful for such peace as we have.

Ah, but where is the glory in peace? asked another. No warfare, no glory; no glory, no need for bards to sing it; no need for bards, and we are on the road again! And he laughed.

Na, there will always be need for bards, said Kyan. If not to sing the warriors’ deeds now, then to remember those who fought before, and teach those who will fight afterwards the way of it. There is always need for songs of Arthur, and Maxen Wledig, and those who went before. One way and another, there must always be bards, as long as the earth stands, and the stars shine above, and the gray sea surrounds us. We are like the pin in the cloak-clasp, and he touched the great brooch on his shoulder, the smallest, plainest part, and yet without it the brooch falls away and is lost, and the cloak with it, and the man perishes from the cold. So is it with us. If the bards should ever take the druids’ road west, it would be a black day for the Cymry, for what is there to hold a people together who do not remember their past?

No one answered him, for we had reached the top, and the hospitality of Dinas Powys awaited us.

But that, O my children, is a story for another day.

Chapter 3 - The Power of Names

What power lies in a name? Gwernin Kyuarwyd am I, Gwernin Storyteller. So have I said before. And yet I practice all the bardic arts, so far as I am able—poetry and song and harping, as well as storytelling and the recitation of lore. So why do I call myself Gwernin Kyuarwyd, Gwernin Storyteller, and not Gwernin Fardd, Gwernin the Bard?

Modesty, perhaps. Or a stronger regard for the truth than some display. But mostly for another reason, of which I intend to tell you now.

The feasting at Dinas Powys was behind us, and we were on the road again. Fine indeed had it been while it lasted, for though the Lord Dafydd’s hall was smaller than some I have since seen, his table was bountiful—roast meat in plenty, both cow’s and pig’s flesh; made dishes in the old Roman style; flat wheaten loaves from the bake-stones; barrels of red Gallic wine; and great pitchers of the clear honey-sweet mead with its faintly bitter aftertaste, which seems to light all the world like a golden lantern while it lasts.

Half a dozen bards had performed, all eager to fill the empty chair of the household bard at this wealthy court, and all the other performers got a turn as well, and a gift of silver afterwards for their pains, myself included. Mine was a bracelet in the Saxon style, and not the least by any means of the presents given. I got, too, a word of praise and encouragement from Kyan Goch, which I valued above the silver; he it was who won the bards’ contention, and stayed on as the new household bard to the Lord Dafydd. I was glad for his good luck, but sorry to lose the chance of his company on the road, for he seemed more friendly and less full of self-pride than some of the bards there—more friendly,

Reviews for Storyteller

[tedwitham · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

An engaging 'road' story of an apprentice story-teller in post-Roman Wales. The narrator must learn humility before being apprenticed to a master story-teller. Rich in historical detail.

[minakelly_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I could have sworn I'd already reviewed this.Anyway, as others have said it's a series of interlinked stories set in post-Roman pre-Arthurian Britain. It deftly weaves mythology and history together, using it's protagonist's journey towards a career as a bard to structure the novel. Strongly recommend it!

[janemarieprice · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I spent quite a long time with this book and am glad I did. It is a long journey that young Gwernin takes. This was not one of those historical novels where the characters are completely modern individuals placed in a historical setting. Nor was it one where the characters were given particularly divergent hot button political and social issues. Rather, they are simply authentic – which extends to age as well. You see Gwernin’s growth as his journey continues. There is a nice balance of surreal/fantastical elements mixed into the tale. I am looking forward to getting to the next installment. Note: I received this through LibraryThing Member Giveaways. 

[scoshie · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Enjoyable enough fiction about a summer a wandering youth spent learning how to be a bard. Well thought out story and has a lot of excellent historic references that were fun. I found it a little boring and was annoyed with the way each chapter ended. All in all this was not a bad way to spend an afternoon in the sun.

[tropical1library · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I have been reading this on and off for some time now, after having received a copy through LibraryThing -- mostly because I tend to forget about books on the Kindle. But I have finally finished it -- and really enjoyed it.It's the story of a 6th century Welsh storyteller, who hopes to become a bard; this is about one summer's travelling around what is now known as Wales. He has a less-than-perfect travelling partner, which causes all kinds of problems for both of them, but by then end of the book he has been apprenticed to a bard and is on the way to following in the footsteps of Taliesen, the legendary bard.The story abounds with characters from British mythology and is a very enjoyable read; I was disappointed to find myself at the end of the book. But not with the story!

[hsudonym · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

ER Review.Really enjoyed this story, after I realized it was not a stand alone book, but part of a series. I like how the author relayed the learning of the craft of the bard- the years of visual and verbal memorization, travel, apprenticeship. The author captures the difficulty of the road, and the good and bad people met. The author does an excellent job of portraying the traditional culture of Wales, the beauty and severity of it's lands.It is amazing to realize, in relation to current society, to have a young boy travel virtually alone, getting passed off to others to further his education. At times Gwernin seemed far older than he actually is. Current thought has the King Arthur legends centered on Wales. I liked the author's incorporation of the legends into the time frame of the story. I think the other books of the series will bring more of the legends into the main story.Overall, and enjoyable read. The only problem I had was the darn Welsh pronunciation! Which I always have. The author kindly put a guide in the back of the book. Use it. A lot!

[ani36ol · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I was lucky enough to receive the trilogy of books called Storyteller, Flight of the Hawk and Ash Spear. If you enjoy Jack White novels you will enjoy this trilogy. Set back in the mythical times of dragons and warriors and the main character who is a storyteller. We follow him as he learns from his master Talhaearn and competes in front of royalty against others to become a master. He starts out in Storyteller telling the story about King Arthur’s Raid on Hell.In the second novel, Flight of the Hawk, the young storyteller moves on to more adventures as he does in the Ash Spear. I was going to provide more information but quite frankly I don’t want to give anything away. I really enjoyed all three novels. They flowed from one to the other nicely and the best part, or I should say one of the best because there were many, is that at the end of the novel is a pronunciation guide for all of the rather difficult Welsh words as well as a wonderful postscript by the author that I almost wished was at the beginning of the novels as the pronunciation pages should have been as well. Some people may be put off by all the weird names and such but I promise if you stick with it the trilogy is well worth it.

[twitham_3 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

An engaging 'road' story of an apprentice story-teller in post-Roman Wales. The narrator must learn humility before being apprenticed to a master story-teller. Rich in historical detail.

[blehner_4 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Like others who reviewed this book I must also confess that I needed a while to get into it. It wasn't so much the story itself, rather the style it was written in, that needed some getting used to. Yet, hooked on the storytelling itself I continued and found it well worth the read.G.R. Grove managed to share a wonderful insight into the historic world of Wales with her book. You'll not only be entertained by reading it, you will also learn a whole lot about everyday life in that time, which I found to be a great mixture. I also liked how each of the tales (chapters) being told here intertwined with each other. And the last sentence to each tale “But that, O my children, is a story for another day.” is just one of many lovely details.Having read "Pryderi's Pigs and other poems" just recently it was a nice transition from one book to the other. Though, personally, I'd rather stick to the poetry, but that's just me!In short: For everyone who loves historical fiction, this is a captivating journey into Welsh history through the eyes of Gwernin, the Storyteller!

[hghost-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

While starting Storyteller I must admit it took me a couple tries to get into this novel. (I don't normally like historical fiction) When I got into it though, I found I couldn't put the Storyteller down. G.R. Grove paints an excellent picture of the life of a bard named Gwernin Kyuaryd, while he wanders Wales in the year 550 AD, Each chapter weaves a new story of Gwernin bringing him closer to reality as it goes. I particularly enjoyed the first story when he describes the encounter he had with an owl whom our bard compares to a ghost.Though I am not a historian, this story has brought me into an understanding of what life must have been like for bards of the sixth century Europe. I recommend Storyteller to both fans of historical fiction and those who tend to stray away from that genre alike and allow the storyteller to weave his magic together for you. I look forward to reading the next installment, Flight of the Hawk, in this series. “But that, O my children, is a story for another day.”

[releanna · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a very good and interesting collection of Welsh myth and history. The first 30 or 40 pages I thought drag a bit and sometimes it is almost boring in the beginning, but as the story unfolds it gets more and more interesting!

[karthicaravel · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I thought that this book was great. The title of the story totally matched up with the story itself.

[nuatha · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

The book begins with a series of tales told by the central character the bard Gwernin, as an older man retelling the tales and his telling of them as a young storyteller. Several of these tales were original published as instalments in serial form.First of all, I should admit that I failed to finish the book the first two times I read it. I found the initial standalone tales didn’t carry my interest on into the novel. This is not a fault of the writing or the storytelling, and may well be more of a personal idiosyncrasy than anything else – I like books to draw me into the tale and found the initial tales did not do this. I’m familiar with much of the source material and many works based on it, and enjoyed each skilful retelling of the tales. As the book became a more continuous telling of Gwernin’s tale (and both his and his master’s storytelling) it became compulsive reading.The author presents a richly crafted tale in an authentic setting, weaving touches of magic and myth in a natural and accurate historical context. Set shortly after the death of Arthur, it would be easy to dismiss as yet another Authurian fantasy – Arthur is the principal character in many of the stories told within the book. To dismiss it in such a way would be a great disservice to this book and to its author. The short Authurian tales are an important component of the story but merely form one thread of the tale, the bard Taliesin is a recurring character, here the focus is more on the influence he has on the young storytellers life. Overall the effect is a richly woven tapestry of entwined tales, historical fiction at its best. (Historical rather than fantasy fiction, because the elements which could have turned this into fantasy fiction are presented as a historically accurate natural part of 6th century life.)I have and will recommend this book to others. I intend ordering the rest of the trilogy today and am already eagerly anticipating book 4 of the greater arc.

[elenchus_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I’d hoped that G.R. Grove’s Storyteller would provide a strong sense of 6th Century Wales, both the land and the culture of those living there, and perhaps an historically accurate depiction of the bardic tradition. If it also delved into the esoteric tradition as practiced by those in Britain, whether Druids or others … well, that would be cream. Storyteller delivers handsomely on the first two counts, and holds out some promise that later volumes may have more in store on the third.The setup is simple: a young man leaves home with a friend, eager to explore the world. Because he has no formal training, and still less experience, Gwernin is not a bard. On his travels, though, he gains some of that experience, and eventually takes up as apprentice with a bard in hopes of learning the formal aspects of the tradition. Each chapter is a vignette, more or less directly related to this overarching narrative arc. The plots are what I would call miniature or minor key, not overly dramatic in terms of action or tension, though there is a memorable exception involving a midnight rescue by water. These minor key stories are reflective and suggest a wisdom of observing people and life trends, which for me fit in with what I would expect a bard to commit to verse. The plot and characterization does pick up complexity in the latter half of the book, presumably in part due to the fact these stories were written with an eye toward a novel, and the earlier were published separately as short stories.Because the stories are narrated by Gwernin, the author and the character so to speak “share a voice”. Apparently in the bardic tradition, storytelling is done in a high style quite distinct from everyday speech.* And in fact, Gwernin’s narrative voice is distinct from the style of his delivery when, interacting with other characters, he tells them a story. Gwernin’s storytelling voice is at once more formal and less emotional than when he addresses the reader. His narrative voice, by contrast, is more confessional, and while clearly not modern in its speech pattern, is conversational. (I find it clever that the trope most commented on in reviews, “But that, O my children, is a story for another day” is delivered by Gwernin the narrator, not the storyteller, and effectively reminds us that the narrator is, in fact, an older Gwernin. He does not narrate his life as it unfolds, after all, but sometime later, presumably near the end of his life.) I suspect Gwernin’s storytelling voice should be yet more stylized, and and that as an apprentice bard this is precisely one of the things he hopes to master. It will be interesting to see if his formal storytelling does in fact become more distinctly stylized in later books.Another strong impression is the way the seasons and weather dictated so much of everyday life. This isn't unique to those in Britain at the time, of course, but is quite different from the way I live, and it added to the feeling of transporting to another place & time. Grove's writing of spring in Wales was lyrical and highly evocative, one of my favourite passages in the book from the standpoint of wordcraft. Overall, in fact, I was very impressed with the quality of the writing, giving a distinct feel from modern speech but avoiding cliche. Thankfully, Grove never resorts to schoolyard bastardisations of chivalric poetry, but has found a narrative voice that is recognisably other and yet scans easily.I’d love to own a handsome hardbound edition, as I expect to re-read it and the sequels. The cover art is fitting, but it would benefit from a polished layout and some additional copyediting. And, yes, a sturdy binding.* Coincidentally, at the time I read Storyteller, I was reading Kathleen Raine’s Defending Ancient Springs. The essays on the poet Vernon Watkins and on the nature of the symbol in metaphysical poetry include some comment on the Welsh bardic tradition. Raine remarks specifically on the formal and stylized voice of a bard, which prompted my comparison between Gwernin as narrator and as storyteller.

[lorax_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Storyteller by G.R. Grove follows the young Welsh storyteller Gwernin, initially as he travels around post-Roman Wales, first telling stories and later as an apprentice bard. The novel is set up as a series of reminisces by a much-older Gwernin, though after the initial introduction this framing is limited to the formulaic "But that, O my children, is a story for another day" conclusion to each tale. The story is well-written with meticulous attention to historical detail. The writing especially shone during the several stories told by Gwernin during the course of the novel, which were perhaps the strongest part; the episodic nature of the book was a strength, rather than a weakness, here. The entire book was an enjoyable and quick read, with a very strong sense of place; Grove clearly loves, and has thoroughly researched, the era she's writing about. The sense of change and loss, both of Roman civilization and of the still older Celtic customs, in the face of the Saxon invaders pervades the book, giving it a flavor familiar to readers of more historically-oriented Arthurian fantasies.Storyteller deftly straddles the boundaries between historical fiction and fantasy; Gwernin has several supernatural experiences (though he does not see them as anything extraordinary); many of these, though not all, can be interpreted in context as dreams if the reader chooses. However they are interpreted, the effect of these events on the rest of the story is minimal, perhaps partly due to the episodic nature of the entire book, and the ill-defined "feel" of the book is not that of fantasy. Readers of either genre, provided they aren't completely averse to reading something slightly out of genre, would most likely feel at home with the book.The weakest aspects of the book were plot and characterization; in the first half of the novel, the individual stories are almost entirely disconnected from one another. As a result, there's very little sense of tension; the reader knows that whatever problems are set up will be resolved in a matter of a few pages. The reader has very little insight into either of the continuing characters introduced in the first half of the book (Gwernin and his friend Iuean; when they part ways midway through the book, there's no sense of regret or loss, because the reader never really got to know Iuean as more than a name.) Once Gwernin is apprenticed to the bard Talhaearn halfway through the book, the story hangs together better and Gwernin begins to show signs of a more individualistic character than simply "young and impetuous".Finally, a note on an issue that, while unrelated to the story, did initially affect my reading experience by jolting me out of the story and forcing me to notice the arrangement of letters on the page. The typesetting on my lulu.com paperback was quite poor. I don't ordinarily notice things like this, but it was jarring -- one line was inexplicably in smaller type, the letters didn't seem to fit together well, and parts of some letters were thin to the point of illegibility. I got used to this after getting into the book a bit, and hopefully most readers will do the same; it would be a shame to miss out on this book because of the printer's incompetence.I received a copy of this book from the author through the Hobnob With Authors group in exchange for a review; a savvy move on Grove's part, because I will certainly purchase the sequel.

[reading_fox · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Odd collection of incidents - being the (fictional) memoirs of the early life of a travelling bard in 6th centuray Wales. We follow Gwernin as he sets off on a summer's grand tour, as a Storyteller - rather than the official title of Bard which he hasn't yet earned. Each short chapter is a tale, told in a Storyteller's prose, either Gwernin telling one of his tales or an incident during his stay at that location. Unfortunetly they all end with - "but that's a story for another day my children" which rapidly becomes annoying. It works well enough as a storytelling device for Gwernin's recitals of ancient tales, but when it comes to the 'plot' of Gwernin's own adventures it completely breaks up the narrative flow. Although initially very slow there is some form of plot - Gwernin falls in love, competes with the local strong man for the girl, and finds a Master to offer him formal training. There are also a series of mystical encounters with various ghosts. These seem to indicate some great secret in Gwernin's background or future, but that my children is a story for another day - you see how irritating that gets!I'm not a historian, but the work seems well researched, and an author's note in the back explains which details have been invented, plus helping with Welsh pronounciation and names. I found it odd that Powys remains unchanged in name since the 6th century, but perhaps that's the case. The life of the characters seems somewhat idyllic, without major concerns about providing sufficient shelter, food or avoiding disease. There is a complete lack of concern over banditry which also seems unrealistic. The only other major discrepency that jarred me, was when the strict master bans Gwernin from 'looking at another girl again' and then completely ignores Gwernin's ongoing romance, and later implies he's aware of it, and tacitly approves of it.Overall it was well written and I enjoyed it more as the story progressed. Especially when we learnt a bit more abour Gwernin and his life, but the annoying chapter endings and lack of overal cohension mean I'm unlikely to search out any sequels.This ebook version isn't well copyedited with several instances of runonwords.

[milliehennessy · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In Storyteller we hear about young Gwernin's start as a story teller and how he moved into apprenticing as a bard. He tells his tales with a bif of a flare, fitting for a storyteller, and he is a very likeable character. The descriptions of some characters seem repetative, but on the whole this book was an excellent read. I did think that beyond Gwernin, and maybe two or three other characters, everyone else was very flat. I found myself forgetting who characters were because they had little or no development. His tag line, "But that, O my children, is a story for another day" appears at the end of every chapter, and gets to be a bit annoying by the end of the book, because he's hinted at all these other great adventures that the reader is told nothing about. However, I will definitely be reading the other books in the trilogy and I can't wait to hear about the rest of his adventures!

[mjwensel · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Wow! What a marvellous read! I love reading books about the Aurthurean period and this one is no exception.This book tells the story of the early years of Gwernin who is apprenticing to be a storyteller/bard Each chapter details an event in his life and how it shaped his future. The mode of storytelling used in the book, is the older Gwernin recounting his tales of youth to the reader. This means that there are a lot of adventures hinted at in the future, enough to whet your appetite to keep on reading. There is some mystical elements to the story, encounters with fae, premonitions and hints of magic, but the story is realistic enough to believe that this all may have occured.I think the perfect environment for reading this book is in front of a fire, surrounded by dark, wrapped in warm blankets. It's the impression you get from each chapter that you are on a campout with a really great storyteller recounting fantastical stories from their youth. Beacuse each chapter is almost stand alone you tend to dread the words "But that, O my children, is a story for another day". Which means that chapter/story is over. Most chapters pick up not long after, but you are left hanging a bit with dangling tidbits of things to come. Frustrating, but in a good way that makes you want to keep reading.My only complaint (and it is by no means a reflection on the author) are the names used in this era. I can never keep them straight, and seem to find myself wracking my brain trying to remember which character is which. Most of the time the story provides enough detail which I am definitely thankful for to keep everyone straight.I thoroughly enjoyed this book and will definitely recommend it. I look forward to reading the rest of the series.

[nanajlove_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is book one in a fascinating trilogy detailing the life of a bard-in-training, Gwernin Storyteller, in Wales during the 6th century. It is well written and leads the reader to believe well researched, although the author does describe how sparse the historical information for this time period and subject is.In book one, we follow Gwernin as he strikes out on his own for the first time, traveling with a trader from his village. Young Gwernin has much to learn about the world, politics, and how trustworthy his companion is and his adventures are saturated with the supernatural beings, as both guides and warnings. What I found most unique about this book is how each chapter can stand independent as a tale while at the same time belonging in the collection of chapters to tell the story of Gwernin's early years. I am fortunate to have won the two sequels in this series, Flight of the Hawk, and The Ash Spear and I am looking forward to reading more about this endearing character and remarkable period in history.

[janepriceestrada · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I spent quite a long time with this book and am glad I did. It is a long journey that young Gwernin takes. This was not one of those historical novels where the characters are completely modern individuals placed in a historical setting. Nor was it one where the characters were given particularly divergent hot button political and social issues. Rather, they are simply authentic – which extends to age as well. You see Gwernin’s growth as his journey continues. There is a nice balance of surreal/fantastical elements mixed into the tale. I am looking forward to getting to the next installment. Note: I received this through LibraryThing Member Giveaways. 

[chaser22 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I won this book from the Member Giveaways. It was very different than I expected. The way each story also helped tell the main character's tale was quite an interesting spin. Though a dark book, it was very light and fun to read. I would recommend it to someone looking for a different avenue of reading from thier normal book choices.

[chirtie · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book was a bit slow to start and hard for me to get into at first, but as I continued reading I found myself getting more and more caught up in Gwernin's story. I enjoyed how Gwernin grew and developed through the story. His failings and triumphs were not only entertaining, but rang true to those of any young man growing into himself and his trade. I didn't notice any glaring spelling errors but after reading one of the earlier reviews I was really watching for errors . Not that I can cite the page but, I was mildly amused when Gwernin's pony was once referred to as Lloyd, as opposed to Llwyd. Same meaning, so it wasn't a big deal. If this can be called an error, it was all I found. Initially, I found the device of "O my children that is another story" a bit intrusive, but as I got further into the story I got used to it. Perhaps, it is the way bards ended their stories but I think the use of it at the end of every chapter was unnecessary, especially when the chapters were largely connected chronologically. I think this device would have been more successful (and meaningful) if it had been used a bit more sparingly at key points in the story.Overall, this book was an enjoyable read and I look forward to reading the next book.

[altarasabine · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Set in the dark ages of Wales. The storyteller, the bard of Gwernin, is recounting individual stories of his travels that come together to reveal a wider, larger story. You follow along his journey of life changing experiences and falling in love. Reminissant of the style of "The Canterbury Tales". Has a ligh hearted tone making it a joy to read. Well written, rich historical content with an unforgettsble and loveable cast of characters.

[wildmaggie · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A youth named Gwernin starts out on a meandering journey around medieval Wales with a handful of stories and firm in his belief that he will be a great bard. Along his way, he learns a bit about life, acquires a demanding but instructive teacher, tells and hears some great tales, and falls in love. Storyteller offers engaging characters, an interesting historical setting not previously over-mined, and a straightforward plot adequate to carry Gwernin’s story. As a bonus, Gwernin and his mentoring bards practice their craft and tell some Welsh tales. These scenes are particularly effective, allowing her characters to entertain both their fictional audience and us readers. Storyteller is the first in a series of, currently, three books. It stands well on its own, although the ending has a to-be-continued feeling. I’ve put the next book in the series on my wishlist and look forward to Gwernin’s next installment. However things turn out for Gwernin, whether he becomes a great bard or not, one thing is for sure—Grove is a great storyteller.

[shellyann_1 · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

I have to say that i found the book disappointing. I was hoping for a whole story. I found the chapters being one story each very confusing and hard to keep up with. Not sure what the plot was and who the characters were. The book just doesn't link well together. This was my first foray with this author. Honestly, I don't think I'll try any others.

[jaelquinn · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a novel disguised as a collection of linked short stories in chronological order which track the changing seasons and the travels of Gwernin, the protagonist. The first person narrative is delightful for me, mostly because the narrator is so much like my ideal romantic partner. I would totally fall in love with this guy, he is so kind, sensitive, intelligent and honest. He makes the decisions I would make if I had the guts to get up in front of a group and tell stories and were faced with his problems. He struggles in the same areas, and learns the same lessons that I would from his adventures. He wants to learn, work with a good teacher, travel and be recognized for his talents. He wants to tell the truth, and do his best. Many of his struggles are caused by him falling short of his moral code. I didn't notice tension from a major conflict, but the protagonist, Gwernin, holds the series of stories together by his strong, well-defined personality. There are legends taken from Welsh folklore and King Arthur, told by the protagonist and other bards included in the stories. These help convey the sense of time period. The use of historical Welsh place names and character names also convey a feel of a medieval time period without getting in the way of the story. It took me a couple of stories before falling under the charismatic spell of the main character, and once that happened I was hooked. If a lawful good apprentice bard appeals to you as a character, you will enjoy this series. The writing is clear and readable. There were no errors in usage or grammar that got in the way of the story. The worst thing I can say about this book is that each chapter ends with the same annoying sentence, " And that , O my children, is a tale for another time." Or words to that effect. It could be that's what the bards used to end stories way back in medieval times. It doesn't stop me from recommending this title. And now you know about it, you can just not read the last sentence of each story, because you know what it is.

[wigster102 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Storyteller is not a modern story. I don't mean that it was written hundreds of years ago, but it definitely reads like it. And that isn't a bad thing. The beginning is a bit slow and disconnected at times, but it quickly becomes a cohesive travel story. By the end it was flowing at such a pace that I was surprised when the end came. This is a story told for the sake of the telling of the story, in much the same way that the storytellers in the book were doing, and I can't wait to read the next one. Here is another book that makes me thankful there are more ways to be self-published these days.

[tracyrowan · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Lyrically written series of stories which make up an historical novel about the travels of Gwernin the Storyteller -- and about this he makes a very important distinction; he is not yet worthy to call himself "Bard" -- through Wales. It's not just about medieval Wales, though that would provide material enough, nor just about Welsh culture and the oral tradition. It's also about growth and the education of a story teller, and his adventures along the way. Another reviewer likened it to "The Canterbury Tales" and the comparison is apt. Grove's stories introduce Gwernin to a whole host of colorful characters, and provide hearty doses of humor, surprise, mystery and the like.This is not popularized medievalism, nor is it strictly academic. Rather it walks a path between the two, neither pandering to contemporary tastes nor remaining so obscure that contemporary readers will not be engaged by it. It remains thoroughly accessible, but without the sort of compromises that might rob it of so much of its authenticity. It's clear that Grove has done her homework here. In fact, it's clear that this is a labor of love for her, and as such it carries even more impact. You write best what speaks to you most clearly.If I have a quibble with the book, it's that some of the stories lack dramatic tension. They are shortish, and sometimes don't so much end as stop. And yet there's enough here to keep you wanting to read more, which is, in the end, what propels the reader through any book. Recommended for lovers of good historical fiction, or anyone with an interest in Welsh legends and mythology.

[sirfurboy · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

I bought this one following reviews here, and having failed to get the sequel in the member give away (which I was disappointed as the subject matter - 6th century Welsh culture - is right up my street). The book is a little on the expensive side.The book is self published, and before reading this book I would say that invariably indicates a book that suffers from a lack of editing, rewriting and critical review. Indeed I normally avoid self published works because there is usually a good reason that they were rejected by publishers.But the reviews on this book suggested the writing was of high quality - and they were right. The author writes well, with a passion for her subject which she has researched well (not perfectly mind. Like Stephen Lawhead et al., she calls Cardiff "Caer Dydd" - a folk etymology that does not realise that the city is named for the river Taff, and in the 6th century was Caerdyf - incorporating the genitive form of Taff as the case system was still found in Welsh at that time. She also speaks of Aberystwyth, where the 6th century settlement of the area would have focussed around Llanbadarn Fawr. I could go on and be picky, but that would be unfair as her research is at least as good as other writers setting tales in this period, and in fact better than most).Heavy use is made of early Welsh writings in this book, and the author clearly has a feel for the period - presenting a tale that would not be amiss as an addendum to the Mabinogion.My only real criticism of the work would revolve over the overall lack of tension. Not that it is entirely lacking - there are times when this book is as well written as any I have read - but it does not grab you from the start as a tale with some kind of conflict in it that must be resolved. This might be what an editor at a publishing house might have brought to the work. Then again, maybe not. It could just be my own preference here as there is plenty to interest a reader in this story.

[dchaikin_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

G. R. Grove is a self published author and LTer (username: gwernin). I generally hesitate to pick up self-published books because of the lack of quality control. But no worries here. Grove is a competent writer who can take simple tale and make a colorful story out of it.Storyteller is a tour of Wales in the time of Athurian legends. The Romans have left, Anglo-Saxons are advancing and King Arthur has been dead 20 years when the sixteen-year-old orphan Gwernin Kyuarwyd sets out on his first summer circuit of the Briton towns in modern Wales. He pays his way telling stories. Early in the book Gwernin and his traveling partner Ieuen wake up from midday nap in the middle of nowhere to find themselves in an opaque fog. Disaster. Slowly they try to find their way. Gwernin later, having gotten lost, makes his way to “a tall figure standing silent in the moon-silvered mist ahead of me.” It turns out to be a massive black standing stone. Perched at the bottom he imagines he hears a legendary king of the Celtic “Other-world” on a hunt with his hounds.“Distantly I saw the hunt come and pass, the wraith-like deerand the white hounds gleaming in the darkness. Dimly I sawthe rider, gray-cloaked and gray-mounted, pass by, with hisfollowers streaming behind him and the moon striking sparksof silver from their fittings and their horns. They came, andpassed like thunder, and dwindled into silence, and I wasalone with the moon, and the mist, and the coming dawn”Instead of filling us with the blood and gore and passion we might expect with Athurian legends, Grove takes a more literary approach. She takes her time, keeping us entertained with Gwernin’s travels; each chapter is another story out of Gwernin’s travels. In the end she has created her version of 6th century Wales, infused with history and clashes of cultures, and a place where legends and stories mix with reality. This is the first of a trilogy. I look forward to the next book.Note: On her profile Grove advertises that she is willing to provide a PDF copy of a book for a review. I took her up on the offer.