More Mabinogion: Kilhwch, Olwen, and some damn big pigs

The Myth: Myths of Wales! Knights! Kings! Faeries! Giants! Princesses! Vaguely Arthurian Imagery!
The Book: The Mabinogion
The Author:  Various bards of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries.
This text: etext of a 1906 translation by Lady Charlotte Guest
Price: $2.48 (Dover Thrift Editions. There's also a free version at Project Gutenberg, but the stories are in a different order.)

So there are four books of the Mabinogion, previously discussed, and then several other tales and stories. This one is awesome. It takes the fairy tale trope of the three-fold impossible quest and turns it up to thirty-seven.

More Mabinogion: Kilhwch and Olwen, or the Twrch Trwyth
It starts with Kilhwch, of somewhat complicated parentage but basically King Arthur's nephew, presenting himself at Camelot:

"King Arthur, I crave a boon!"
"Who are you? You're pretty hot, so sure! I'll give you anything you want."
"I-"
"Anything you can think of. Anything in the world."
"Thank you, sire-"
"Only, not probably not my ship. I'll need that. Or my mantle. It gets cold in Brittanic Wales."
"Well-"
"Not my sword, Caledvwlch, either. Or Rhongomyant, my lance. Probably need those."
"I wasn't-"
"And I'd have to say no to Wynebgwrthucher, my shield, and my dagger Carnwenhau, for the same reasons."
"Your majesty, I-"
"There's something I'm forgetting."
"That's fine, my-"
"Oh yes! My wife Gwenhwyvar. I need to be clear about this. You all hear that? Not my wife. But anything else, in the world."
"Just wanted a haircut, sire."

The haircut is symbolic: you don't need a king for a regular haircut. It's a coming of age thing.

"I'll get the golden comb and silver scissors. I love this bit."

Kilhwch then asks his boon of Arthur and everyone present, who he calls out by name. For like twenty pages, it's quite remarkable. The boon: he wishes to marry Olwen, daughter of the giant Yspaddeden Penkawr.

"Never heard of her."
"Aw."
"But I've got like eleventy twelve knights. We'll work it out."

Arthur sends a bunch of knights with Kilhwch, and they locate the giant in question. Kilhwch makes his request, but it turns out Yspaddeden Penkawr has some conditions.

"Ho there, giant Yspaddeden Penkawr. I seek the hand of your daughter, Olwen."
"Yeah no. It's prophecised that when she leaves me, I'll die."
"Yeah yeah. It's prophecised that I shall marry her."
"Alright, you can have my daughter on the following conditions. I want you to get some wheat for the wedding. You'll need Govannon son of Don to get all the iron out of that mountain, levelling it, then you'll need Amaethon son of Don to plough it into a field. They'll never help you."
"Piece of piss. Anything else?"
"Amatheon won't be able to plough the field without the dun oxen of Gwlwlyd, which he'll never give you. You'll also need the cursed oxen Nynniaw and Peibaw, good luck with that, and...."
[...]
"...the harp of Teirtu for the music, and some super sweet magic honey, and maybe the bottles of Rhinnon Rhin Barnawd in case someone wants some milk, and also some milk..."
[...]
"...going to need a shave, so I need the tusk of the boar Yskithyrwyn Penbaedd, which must be plucked from his head by Odgar, king of Ireland, and brought to Britain by Gado of North Britain... Are you getting all this?"
"Yeah, yeah. Pretty basic stuff so far."
"You don't want to write it down?"
"I'm good."
"Right, ok, so the blood of the jet-black sorceress, daughter of the pure-white sorceress, who lives on the shores of hell, and you'll need the magic bottles Gwyddolwyd Gorr so it doesn't get cold..."
[...]
"...my daughter's wedding and I should have a haircut, so I'll need the comb and scissors between the ears of the great boar Twrch Trwyth, which you won't be able to track without the Greid, son of Eri's dog Drudwyn, who can't be led except with the leash of Cwrs Cant Ewin, and the collar of Canhastyr Canllaw, and the chain of Kilydd Canhastyr, and anyway the only one that can hunt with this dog is Mabon, son of Modron, who nobody has seen since he was three days old and who may actually be dead..."
[...]
"...more dogs, with a leash plucked from the beard of the bandit king Gaselit the Gwyddelian with wooden tweezers while he's still alive..."
[...]
"...like three more huntsmen, one of them the Gilennhin, king of France, and one of them Gwynn son of Nudd, currently imprisoning devils in Annwvyn, and one is Kynedry Wyllt, who is just like super-awesome..."
[...]
"...and maybe a couple more dogs, and honestly, I don't see how you're going to get any of it without the aid of King Arthur and his entire court."
"Uncle Arthur? He's totally on board."
"Ah."

Kilhwch heads back to Camelot and explains the situation. Arthur rallies the court.

"Alright, lads, we've got the mythic mother of all scavenger hunts on our hands. Pair off, pick up a list, and scour the lands. Start with the dogs!"

This is a big old stand-up knock-down kick-arse scavenger hunt of epic proportions. There's questing, there's international diplomacy, there's bandit fleecing, there's dog-napping, there's theft, there's violence, there's everything.

"And try not to lay waste to Ireland!"

And they lay waste to a quarter of Ireland, in an Ireland-spanning running battle with the boar Twrch Trwyth, which only ends when the thing invades Cornwall and they're able to stun it long enough to pinch its headgear.

In they end, the knights count the cost, bury the bodies and deliver the goods. They hold down Yspaddeden Penkawr and shave him with the tusk of the boar Yskithyrwyn Penbaedd, and then he's murdered by his aggrieved nephew. Her father's head on a nearby pike, Olwen is wed to Kilhwch, and they all live happily ever after. Except Yspaddeden Penkawr, obviously. He's dead.

Thus ends the tale of Kilhwch and Olwen, or the Twrch Trwyth.

Next: The miscellaneous Mab.