In due time Bronwen's belly swelled with child which she bore most regally, and at the end gave birth to a son named Gwern. After the custom of those days, the boy was sent to the best house in all the realm to be reared as a nobleman ought.

Bronwen's cousin, Evnissyen, wicked as the night is long, bethought himself how things had turned out, and how Bran had healed the split he had made. And he became jealous of Sechlainn's happiness and good fortune. 'Govannon smite me with his hammer if I do not settle this matter between us for once and all.' And taking a small coracle, he set out at once for Ierne.

There are trouble makers in Ierne, just as everywhere else. And Evnissyen had no great difficulty finding them and stirring them up with hateful words and false promises.

This was only too easily done, for because of Queen Bronwen's kindness and honour, and the heir she had given their king, these small-souled creatures were already halfway down the trail to jealousy by reason of Sechlainn's happiness. In less time than it takes to tell it, the grumblers, led on by smooth Evnissyen, fastened on the insult done their king while in Bran's court. The more they thought about it – and they thought about little else – the angrier they became.

Did they keep their anger to themselves? No, they did not.

Very soon they were flapping their tongues here and there all over the realm, and causing others to do the same. This poison spread as it will do, and in time reached Sechlainn's ears. He grew sad to hear it, and at first refused to take offence at this insult that had been so handsomely redressed by the gift of the enchanted cauldron.

But the evil words did not cease. And as the waves pounding on the rock wear it down bit by bit to pebble size, so too after a time Sechlainn could no longer look at his beautiful queen without thinking of the wrong done him.

But the makers of trouble did not let it rest there. They continually hounded the poor king to his misery by demanding that the disgrace to his kingdom be avenged so that his honour, and theirs, might be restored.

In short, they raised such an uproar and ferment throughout Ierne that in the end unhappy Sechlainn yielded to them – more to earn a space of silence than anything else. And this is the revenge he took: Bronwen was struck once on the cheek and driven from his chamber. A queen no longer, she was given a place in the kitchen and made to cook for the court.

For this reason, the blow Bronwen suffered was ever after known as one of the Three Unjust Slaps of Britain.

But, as everyone knows, it could not stop there. 'Now lord,' said the malcontents, 'word of this must not reach Bran or he will surely come and make war on us to avenge his sister.'

'What do you propose?' asked Sechlainn sadly. He no longer cared what happened to him or his kingdom. The light had been snuffed from his life.

'You must forbid all ships from going to Ynys Prydein, and all ships coming from there must be seized, so that no one can take word to Bran. Do this and we will be happy at last.'

'You may be happy, but I will not. While you are at it you might as well call me Mallolwch, Most Wretched, from now on, for I can no longer be Sechlainn and feel the way I do.'

'That is your decision,' replied the evildoers. 'We certainly never wanted it this way.' But of course they did.

Evnissyen, having sown his evil far and wide, departed at once and no one knew where he had gone. Poor Bronwen, bereft of friendship and forsaken in her own house, grew weary and sick at heart. 'Lieu knows I have done nothing to deserve this. My kindness has been repaid with loneliness, and my generosity with endless work. This will not do at all.'

As it happened, Lieu, flying overhead in his accustomed form – that of a huge, black raven – heard Bronwen's lament. Well he remembered her former glory, and so swooped down to see if the affair might benefit from his intervention.

Alighting on Bronwen's kneading-trough as she toiled at the bread, he watched her with a bright black gem of an eye. She saw the raven and offered it a scrap of meat, which it gulped down at once and croaked its gratitude. She poured out some milk and gave it to the raven to drink, which it did with all speed. 'At least, my labours are appreciated by someone," sighed Bronwen mournfully. 'I give you good day, friend raven.'

Up spoke the raven. 'Daughter, who are you to toil without ceasing? Surely, you were born for better than this?'

'I am Bronwen, daughter of Llyr, and Bran the Blessed is my brother. You have spoken the truth, though you may not know it. For I was once a queen in my own land, and a queen here as well – and highly respected, though I say it myself.'

'What happened to bring you to this low estate?'

'You are wrong if you think that I caused my own undoing. I tell you truly, I am not loved in this place. Once, but no longer – owing to the wicked men who slandered me most cruelly.' She looked at the raven suspiciously. 'Not that it is anything to you.'

'Indeed, Sister, it is everything to me.'

'Who are you, bird, to take an interest in my sad plight?'

'Never mind about me. What are we to do about you?'

'A most vexing question. In vain have I sought for an answer through many long days of contemplation. For not only am I a slave here, no one may pass across the sea. My kinsmen might as well live in the Otherworld for all I can reach them.'

'Say no more,' croaked the raven. 'Ships may be prevented from sailing, but no one yet has discovered a way to hinder a bird from flying where it will.'

'Will you take a message to my brother, then?'

'Is that not what I am saying?'

'Well, I hope you speak more plainly to him than you do to me,' she snapped.

'Give me the message,' said Lieu in his raven's guise. 'Then stand you back and watch what will happen.'

So Bronwen told the raven all about her plight, then described Bran and what kind of man he was and where to find him. Away winged the big black bird to that fairest land across the sea.

The canny raven found Bran in his stronghold and spoke to him in private. Bran listened, becoming most distressed and outraged at his sister's disgrace. He thanked the raven and in the selfsame breath called for his advisers and counsellors and druids and any within the sound of his voice to assemble, whereupon he told them what had befallen Bronwen at Sechlainn's hands.

'How this could have happened, I cannot understand. I had the highest respect for that Irish king, and now this. Well, there is no trusting those quarrelsome dogs. Speak, Wise Sages! What say you, Counsellors? Advise me, Advisers! What am I to do about this?'

They all gazed in dismay at one another, then answered with a single voice. 'Your way is clear, lord and king. You must take your warband across the sea to save your sister and bring her back if you are to end this disgrace.'

Bran agreed. He raised his warband – and a better warband has not been seen on the Island of the Mighty from that time to this – and they steered their ships from Aber Menei to Ierne; each man among them armed and helmed, and each a better warrior than the last.

Now, Mallolwch's swineherds were down by the sea tending the pigs and they saw Bran's fleet coming. They threw down their staves and let the pigs scatter where they would, and ran to their lord who was holding court with his advisers.

'Lugh be good to you,' the Irish king said in greeting. 'What news do you bring me?'

'We have seen a wondrous sight, lord. And a more wondrous sight would be difficult to imagine,' the swineherds said.

Tell me then, for I would hear of it.'

They answered straightway, saying, 'Do not think us drunk, lord, but we have seen a forest arising on the sea where never was seen so much as a single tree. What is more, the forest is hastening this way. Think of that!'