Through a tangled forest, Pwyll, Lord of Annwvyn, rode over white clover. With a gold hilted sword and a war horn of ivory upon his thigh, he approached Gorsedd Arberth. Turning to his companion he made his desire to sit upon the hill known, to which the man replied,
“Lord, it is peculiar to the mound that whoever sits upon it cannot leave without either receiving wounds or blows, or else seeing a wonder.”
“I do not fear to receive wounds and blows, but as to the wonder, I would gladly see it,” Pwyll replied, dismounting his horse and climbing the hill. From the top he could see far over the kingdom, from his palace at Narberth, where feint music and merry cries reached his ears, to what he thought was the sea, but was actually mist, shimmering silver beneath the moon.
Alone on the high hill ringed with blackthorn and golden gorse, Pwyll looked into the west and saw a woman clad in shining gold brocade, and riding a pale horse.
“My men,” he cried, “is there any among you who knows that woman?”
“There is not, my Lord.”
“Then one of you go and meet her, so that we may know who she is.”
One of the men did as he asked, and ran after her, but although her horse seemed to move with a slow and gentle gait, he could not reach her.
“My lord, it is idle for anyone in the world to follow her on foot.”
“Then return to the palace and ride out on the swiftest horse after her,” Pwyll said from the hill, and so the nobleman took the horse and went forward. Spurring it on, the horse cantered over the ground, but still, she was the same distance ahead of him. When the nobleman’s horse began to fail, he returned to Pwyll.
“There must be some enchantment here, we should leave.” And so Pwyll and his men left, and though they returned the following day, the same thing occurred. On the third evening, Pwyll then decided to ride out and meet the woman himself. Setting his spurs to the horse, he willed it on, but still, he came no closer to her. When his horse was nearly spent he called out to her:
“Woman, for the sake of the man you love most in the world, please wait for me.”
Turning her horse around she said with a smile,
“I will gladly wait for you, but it would have been easier on your horses if you had asked me earlier.”
“Then who are you? From where do you come, and where do you travel?”
“I am Rhiannon, the daughter of Heveydd Hên,” she replied, “He sought to give me a husband against my will, but no husband will I have because of my love for you. I have come here to see you, and to hear your answer.”
“By heaven,” Pwyll replied, “Out of all of the maidens of the world I would gladly choose you.”
“Then meet me a year from tonight at the palace of Heveydd, and I will arrange for a feast to be ready for when you and your warriors arrive.” She paused, “remain in health and be mindful to keep your promise.” Pwyll nodded to her, as she rode away on her pale horse, shimmering golden with the dawn as she disappeared with the stars into the west.