But when the cordwainers
perceived that their gains were failing (for as Manawyddan shaped
the work, so Kicva stitched it), they came together and took
counsel, and agreed that they would slay them. And he had warning
thereof, and it was told him how the cordwainers had agreed
together to slay him.
"Lord," said Kicva, "wherefore should this be borne from these
boors?" "Nay," said he, "we will go back unto Dyved." So towards
Dyved they set forth.
Now Manawyddan, when he set out to return to Dyved, took with him
a burden of wheat. And he proceeded towards Narberth, and there he
dwelt. And never was he better pleased than when he saw Narberth
again, and the lands where he had been wont to hunt with Pryderi
and with Rhiannon. And he accustomed himself to fish, and to hunt
the deer in their covert. And then he began to prepare some
ground, and he sowed a croft, and a second, and a third. And no
wheat in the world ever sprung up better. And the three crofts
prospered with perfect growth, and no man ever saw fairer wheat
than it.
And thus passed the seasons of the year until the harvest came.
And he went to look at one of his crofts, and, behold, it was
ripe. "I will reap this to-morrow," said he. And that night he
went back to Narberth, and on the morrow, in the gray dawn, he
went to reap the croft; and when he came there, he found nothing
but the bare straw.
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