Merlin

ELEVEN

Tell me what I could have done? You who see all things so clearly, tell me now, I invite you: give me your infallible counsel. You who cover yourselves in everlasting ignorance and display it like a priceless cloak, who embrace blindness and count it a virtue, whose hearts quail with fear and call it prudence, I ask you plainly: what would you have done?

Great Light, deliver me from the venom of small-souled men!

The Enemy is subtlety itself, keen, vigilant, tireless, and infinite in resource. Ah, but evil ever overreaches itself, and very great evil overreaches itself greatly. And Lord Jesu, High King of Heaven, bends all purposes to his own, labouring through all things to turn all ends to the One. That is worth remembering.

But in the thin grey light of that cheerless morning, I despaired. The small kings would soon hear of the rift between the brothers. There are always those who will seize even the most unlikely weapons and use them most effectively. And some of the lords needed little enough encouragement. They would use Ygerna as a wedge between Aurelius and Uther, to divide them. Once divided, they would rebel against Aurelius and advance Uther – only to throw off Uther as soon as Aurelius was put down.

Then the kingdom would split once more into a wild scattering of fractious, warring, self-obsessed clans and kingdoms. And the Island of the Mighty would go down into the dark.

Well, Aurelius loved Ygerna and would have her. Knowing nothing of Uther's love, he wooed her with passion. Gorlas approved, indeed he encouraged the match, doing all he might to further it. To have his daughter, treasure that she was, married to the High King increased his own status immeasurably. In any event, Gorlas would never have assented to Uther.

And Uther, too stubborn to utter a word of his desire to his brother, and too proud to press his claim, endured his agony in bitter silence.

So, recognizing the hopelessness of Uther's position, I supported Aurelius. Uther resented this, but would say nothing directly. He loved Ygerna, but he loved his brother more. Bound by three strong coils – duty, honour, and blood – he was forced to stand by and watch his brother steal the light from his life.

Naturally, no one thought to ask Ygerna her thoughts on the matter. She would obey her father in any event, and it was abundantly clear where Gorlas' sentiments lay. Once he saw his opportunity, he wasted not a moment in arranging the marriage.

Accordingly, Aurelius and Ygerna were betrothed and planned the celebration of their union at the Feast of Pentecost.

I will not tell of their wedding; you can hear that tale from any of the itinerant harpers wandering the land, much embroidered and exalted, to be sure. But that is how men wish to remember it.

In truth, Aurelius very nearly was not married at all. He was busy in the months following his crowntaking: organizing the kingdom's defences; building and rebuilding in Londinium and Eboracum and elsewhere; creating churches where there was need. In all, binding his lords to his kingship in a hundred different ways.

To lead the new churches, he made new bishops – and one to replace Dafyd at Llandaff; he chose Gwythelyn for that, and rightly. The others were Dubricius at Caer Legionis, and Samson at Eboracum. Good and holy men each one.

Uther brooded and stormed through the wet end of winter. And spring brought him no joy. He grew gaunt and ill-tempered – like a dog long chained and denied the comfort of his master's hearth. He snarled at all who approached him and he drank too much, seeking to numb his heart's wound with strong wine – which only increased his misery. A more doleful, disagreeable man would be hard to imagine.

The attack on Gorlas during the previous winter was not forgotten. And with spring opening the land other attacks began taking place in the middle kingdoms and in the west. It was soon learned that Pascent, Vortigern's last living son, was responsible. Inflamed by the notion of avenging the blood debt of his father, he had sought and won the support of one, Guilomar, a minor Irish king ever eager to increase his fortunes through plunder.

Evidently, Gorlas had surprised Pascent on the road as the young man was making good his return to the island. Pascent, waiting with his few followers for Guilomar's war-band, attacked out of fear lest his war be finished before it was begun. Aurelius deemed Pascent no great threat – save that the rebellious lords might find it in their interest to throw in with Vortigern's son. Therefore the High King was anxious that Pascent and Guilomar be dealt with firmly and finally, before anyone else could become involved.

So it was that spring found Aurelius preparing for his wedding and for war. The wedding could wait perhaps, but the war could not. This is where I made the decision which has earned me such scorn and contempt, although at the time it was the only wise course.

In order to help ease Uther's pain at his brother wedding the woman he loved, I suggested to the High King that Uther should lead the warband out to deal with Pascent and Guilomar. Aurelius, much preoccupied with his various works, readily agreed and gave the order, saying, 'Go with him, Merlin, for I worry after him. He has become contrary and keeps to himself. I fear these long months away from sword and saddle weigh too heavily on him.'

And Uther, glad for any excuse to quit Londinium, where life had grown so distasteful to him, became the image of a man afire. After hasty preparations we left the city a few days before Aurelius' and Ygerna's wedding. Uther could not have endured that; nor was he greatly cheered to have me with him.

Although he was too proud to say as much, he blamed me for not taking his part with Ygerna, forgetting that his lady had a father who would in no wise see his daughter married to him. As long as Gorlas lived, Aurelius was the only choice for his daughter.

Men will tell you that the war with Pascent was bloody and brief, and that Uther, in his smouldering rage, swept all before him. I wish it had been like that. Deeply, deeply, I wish it.

In truth, the campaign was a maddening chase across most of the kingdom, for the simple fact that Pascent would not fight. Instead, the coward would strike any undefended holding or settlement farm, plunder the stores and valuables and set fire to the buildings, killing any brave enough to oppose him. In this, he was no better than the worst Saecsen. Worse, in fact, for at least the barbarians do not slaughter their own kinsmen.

But as soon as Uther appeared, Pascent vanished. Oh, the rogue was shrewd, and quite skilful in choosing his targets and evading confrontation. Time and again we glimpsed the black smudge of smoke on the horizon, whipped our horses into a lather in our mad flight… only to find the grain burned, the blood soaking the ground, and Pascent long gone when we arrived.

Spring passed and summer settled full on the land, and still we chased, no nearer to catching Pascent than when we left Londinium.

'Why do you sit there doing nothing?' the Duke demanded of me one evening. We had lost Pascent's trail yet again that day in the hills of Gwynedd, and Uther was in a dangerous mood. 'Why do you refuse to help me?' An empty wineskin lay on the board next to his cup.

'I have never refused you aid, Uther.'

'Then where is this famed sight of yours?' He leapt to his feet and began stalking the tent, beating the air with clenched fists. 'Where are your visions and voices now when we need them?'

'It is not so simple as you think. The fire, the water – they reveal what they will. Like the bard's awen, the sight comes as it comes.'

'Were you a true druid, by the Raven, you would help me!' he cried.

'I am not a druid, nor have ever claimed to be.'

'Bah! Not a druid, not a bard, not a king – not this and not that! Well, what are you, Merlin Ambrosius?'

'I am a man and I will be treated so. If I have been summoned to suffer your insults, you must find someone else to abuse.' I rose to take my leave of him, but he was far from finished.

'I will tell you what you are. You are whatever you want to be – everything and nothing. You come to us, smooth as a serpent on a sunwarmed rock, speaking your subtle words, stealing Aurelius from me… turning him against me.' Uther was shaking now. He had worked himself up to it and gave vent to the fury pent inside him. Blaming me was easier than facing the true source of his misery.

I turned and walked from the tent, but he followed me outside, still shouting. 'I tell you, Merlin, I know you for what you are: schemer, deceiver, manipulater, false friend!' It was his anger speaking and I did not listen. 'Answer me! Why do you refuse to answer me?' He grabbed me roughly by the arm and pulled me round to face him. 'Ha! You are afraid! That is it! I have spoken the truth and you are afraid of me now!' Stinking sweat dripped from him and he swayed on his feet.

Some of the warband standing near turned and gawked at us. 'Uther, have a care,' I snapped. 'You are embarrassing yourself before your men.'

'I am exposing a fool!' he gloated. His grin was grotesque.

'Please, Uther, say no more. The only fool you have exposed is yourself. Go back into your tent and go to sleep.' I made to turn away again, but he held me fast.

'I defy you!' he screamed, his face darkening in drunken rage. 'I defy you to prove yourself before us all. Give me a prophecy!'

I glowered hard at him. Were he and I alone I might have ignored him or found a way to calm him. But not with his men looking on – and not his alone, for, since we were in Gwynedd, Ceredigawn had supplied men, too. Uther had forced the matter too far to abandon; it was a matter of honour to him now. 'Very well, Uther,' I answered, loud enough for all to hear, 'I will do as you demand.' He smiled in stupid triumph.

'I will do it,' I continued, 'but I will not answer for the consequence. For good or ill, the responsibility is yours.'

I said this not because I feared what might happen and wished to evade the consequence, but because I wanted Uther to know that it was not child's play, or a trick to impress the ignorant.

'What do you mean?' he demanded, suspicion flattening his tone.

I answered directly. 'It is not like deciphering scribbles from a book. It is a strange and unsettling thing, fraught with many dangers and uncertainties. I do not control it any more than you control the wind that blows through your hair, or the flames of your fire.'

'If you are trying to warn me off, save your breath.' Some of the men voiced agreement. They did not like to see their lord bested in anything.

'What I do will be done in the sight of all, so that you all may know the truth,' I told them. 'You there,' I pointed to the men close to the fire. 'Stir up the flames, put on more logs! I want live embers, not cold ash.'

This was not strictly necessary, I suppose, but I wanted time to compose myself and allow Uther's temper to cool. In any event, it worked, for Uther shouted, 'Well? You heard him. Do as he says and be quick about it.'

While the men heaped oak branches onto the fire, I went to my tent to get my cloak and staff. Neither were these necessary, but it would make a better show, I thought, and impress those looking on with the seriousness of what I did. The art should never appear too easy or people will not respect it.

Pelleas did not like what was happening. 'Lord, what will you do?'

'I will do what Uther has asked me to do.'

'But, Lord Myrddin -'

'He must learn!' I snapped, then softened. 'You are right to be concerned, Pelleas. Pray, my friend. Pray that we do not loose on the world a danger greater than we can safely contain.'

A steward came to me a little while later saying that the fire was ready. I wrapped myself in my cloak and took up my staff. Pelleas, praying silently, rose solemnly to his feet and joined me. Night was full upon the land when we emerged from the tent. We walked to the fire, which had burned down to a heap of fireshot coals, white-hot with crimson and orange flames. As good a bed for birthing the future as any.

The moon shone pale, its light tangled in the branches of trees whose trunks blushed red in the fireglow. The warband had assembled and stood round the pit, eyes glittering, silent now that I was come, almost reverent. Uther had moved his camp chair outside and sat before his tent – the image of a homeless long holding court in the wilderness.

He drew breath to speak when he saw me, but thought better of it and closed his mouth again and merely nodded towards the firepit, as if to say, 'There it is, do your work.'

I had half hoped he might have cooled to the idea and would release me from my promise. But, having fastened onto a thing, Uther was not a man to let go easily. Come what may, he would see it through.

So, gathering my cloak about me, I began walking in sunwise circles around the fire, holding my staff high. In the Old Tongue, the secret tongue of the Learned Brotherhood, I uttered the ancient words of power that would part the veil between this world and the Otherworld. At the same time I prayed Lord Jesu to give me wisdom to discern aright the things I saw.

I stopped walking and turned to the fire, opening my eyes to search among the glowing coals. I saw the heat shimmer, the deep hot crimson… the images:

A woman standing on the wall of a fortress on a high promontory, her hair flying in auburn streams as the wind lifts her unbound tresses, and gulls flying shrieking above her while the sea beats restlessly below…

A milk-white horse cantering along a river ford, riderless, the high-backed, heavy saddle empty, the reins dangling, dangling…

Yellow clouds lowering over a dusky hillside where a warhost lies slaughtered, spears bristling like a grove of young ash trees, while ravens gorge on the meat of dead men…

A bride weeping in a shadowed place, alone…

Bishops and holy men bound in fetters of iron and marched through the ruins of a desolated city…

A huge man sitting in a small boat on a reed-fringed lake, the sun glinting in his golden hair, eyes lightly closed, his empty hands folded upon his knees…

A Saecsen war axe hacking at the roots of an ancient oak…

Men with torches bearing a burden up a hill to a great burial mound set within an enormous stone circle…

Black hounds baying at a white winter moon…

Starving wolves tearing one of their own to pieces in the snow…

A man in a monk's woollen tunic skulking along a deserted street, glancing backward over his shoulder, sweating with fear, his hands clutching a vial such as priests carry for anointing…

The cross ofChristus burning above a blood-spattered altar… A babe lying in the long grass of a hidden forest glade, crying lustily, a red serpent coiled about his tiny arm…

The images spun so fast as to become confused and disjointed. I closed my eyes and raised my head. I had seen nothing of Pascent, nor anything that would help Uther directly. Nevertheless, when I opened my eyes again I saw a strange thing:

A new-born star, brighter than any of its brothers, shining like a heavenly beacon high in the western sky.

In the same moment, my awen descended over me. 'Behold, Uther!' I cried, my voice loud with authority. 'Look you to the west and see a marvel: a newmade star flares in God's heaven tonight, the herald of tidings both dire and wonderful. Pay heed if you would learn what is to befall this realm.'

Men exclaimed around me as they found the star. Some prayed, others cursed and made the sign against evil. But I watched only the star, gathering brightness, growing, soon shining as if to rival the sun itself. It cast shadows upon the land, and its rays stretched forth to the east and the west, and it seemed to me that it was the fiery maw of a fierce, invincible dragon.

Uther stood up from his chair, his face bathed in the unnatural light. 'Merlin!' he shouted. 'What is this? What does it mean?'

At his words my body began to tremble and shake. I staggered dizzily and leaned on my staff, overswept by a sudden onrushing of sorrow which pierced me to the heart. For I understood the meaning of the things I had seen. 'Great Light, why?' I cried aloud. 'Why am I born to such sorrow?' So saying, I sank to my knees and wept.

Uther came and knelt beside me. He put his hand on my shoulder and whispered softly. 'Merlin, Merlin, what has happened? What have you seen? Tell me, I will bear it.'

When at last I could speak, I raised my head and peered into his anxious face. 'Uther, are you there? Uther, prepare yourself,' I sobbed. 'Woe and grief to us all: your brother is dead.'

This revelation caused a sensation. Men cried out in disbelief and anguish. 'Aurelius dead! Impossible!… Did you hear what he said?… What? The High King dead? How?'

Uther stared in astonished disbelief. 'It cannot be. Do you hear, Merlin? It cannot be.' He turned his gaze to the star. 'There must be some other meaning. Look again and tell me.' I shook my head. 'Great is the grief in this land tonight and for many nights to come. Aurelius has been killed by Vortigern's son. While we chased Pascent throughout the realm, he has dealt in treachery, sending a kinsman to murder the High King in his own chamber with poison.'

Uther groaned and fell forward, stretching himself full length upon the ground. There he wept without shame, like an orphaned child. The warband looked on, tears shining in more than one pair of eyes, for there was not a man among them who would not have gladly traded Me for life with his beloved Aurelie.

When at last Uther raised himself up, I said, 'There is more, Uther, that is betokened. You are a warrior without peer in all this land. In seven days' time you will be made king, and great shall be your renown among the people of Britain. You will reign in all strength and authority.'

Uther nodded unhappily, not much consoled by these words.

'This also I have seen: the star that shines with the fire of a dragon is you, Uther; and the beam cast out from its mouth is a son born of your noble lineage, a mighty prince who will be king after you. A greater king will never be known in the Island of the Mighty until the Day of Judgement.

Therefore, arm the warband at once and march boldly with the star to light your path, for at sunrise tomorrow in the place where three hills meet you shall put an end to Pascent and Guilomar. Then let you return to Londinium, there to take up the crown of your dead brother.'

Finished, my awen left me and I slumped back, suddenly weak with exhaustion. Sleep rolled in dark waves over me, drowning all senses. Pelleas lifted me to my feet and guided me to my tent where I fell asleep at once.

Well, it was a night for dreams. Though my body slumbered, my mind was filled with restless images that fought in my fevered brain. I remember I saw much of blood and fire, and men whose lives in this worlds-realm had not yet begun.

I saw the swarming darkness massing for war, and the land trembling under a vast, impenetrable shadow. I saw children growing up who had never known a day's peace. I saw women whose wombs were barren from fear, and men who knew no craft or trade, but battle. I saw ships fleeing the shores of Britain, and others hastening towards the Island of the Mighty. I saw disease and death and kingdoms wasted by war. And, dread of all dreads, I saw Morgian. She, who I most feared to see in the flesh, met me in a dream. And though it chills the marrow in my bones to tell it, she appeared most happy to see me. She welcomed me – as if I were a traveller come to her door – saying, 'Ah, Merlin, Lord of the Fair Folk, Maker of Kings, I am glad to see you. I was beginning to think you had died.'

She was formidable; she was beautiful as dawn, and deadly as venom. Morgian was hate in human form, but she was not human any more: the last of her humanity she had given over to the Enemy in exchange for power. And she was powerful beyond imagining.

But even her power did not extend to harming men through their dreams. She might frighten, she might insinuate, she might persuade, but she could not destroy. 'Why do you not speak, my love? Does fear bind your tongue?'

In my dream, I answered forthrightly. 'You are right when you speak of fear, Morgian, for I do fear you full well. But I know your weakness, and I have learned the strength of the Lord I serve. I will live to see you destroyed.'

She laughed charmingly and darkness leapt up around her. 'Dear nephew, what must you think of me? Have I ever done you harm? Come, you have no reason to speak so to me. But, as you profess an interest in the future, I would speak to you.' 'We have nothing to say to one another.' 'Nevertheless, I will speak and you will listen: your unreasoning hatred of the Old Way, of your own past, cannot continue. It will not be tolerated, Merlin. If you persist, you will be sacrificed. And that would be such sorrow to me.'

'Who has told you to tell me this?' I already knew, but I wanted her to say.

'Fear not him who has the power to destroy the body, rather fear him with the power to destroy the soul – is that not what poor, blind Dafyd taught?'

'Name your lord, Morgian!' I challenged her. 'You have had your warning. If not for me, you would have been killed long ago, but I interceded for you. See? You owe me a debt, Merlin. Do you understand? When next we meet, I will be repaid.'

'Oh, you shall indeed have your reward, Princess of Lies,' I told her boldly – much more boldly than I felt. 'Now get you away from me.'

She did not laugh this time, but her icy smile could have stopped the warm heart beating in the breast. 'Farewell, Merlin. I will wait for you in the Otherworld.'

While I slept, Uther heeded the counsel I had given him. He ordered the warband to be armed and, when the horses were saddled, they made their way to the place I had indicated: Penmachno, a high valley formed by the convergence of three hills, well known from ancient times as a gathering-place.

They travelled all night, the strange star lighting their way, and arrived at Penmachno as a sullen dawn coloured the sky in the east. There, just as I had said, lay Pascent and Guilomar encamped. At the sight of the elusive foe, all fatigue left the warriors and, lashing their horses to speed, they fell like silent death upon the unsuspecting enemy.

The battle proved a bloody and brutal affair. Guilomar, naked from his bed, led his warriors to the fight and was run through by the very first spear thrust. Seeing their king fall in the foremost rank, the Irish voiced a great shout of anguish and determined to avenge their chieftain.

Pascent, on the other hand, had not the stomach for a fair fight and immediately sought how best to make his escape. He pulled an old cloak over himself, caught the reins of a horse, and galloped from the battlefield. Uther saw him Seeing and gave chase, crying, 'Stay, Pascent! We have a debt to settle!'

Uther caught the coward and struck him with the flat of his sword; Pascent fell from the saddle and sprawled on his back on the ground, squealing with fear and pleading for his life.

'As you would have your father's portion,' Uther said, dismounting, his sword lowered, 'come, I will give you your desire.' With that he thrust the sword through Pascent's mouth so that the point went deep into the earth. Pascent died, writhing like a snake. 'There, dwell you now with Guilomar, your trusted companion, and possess the land together.'

Leaderless and unmanned, the Irish made a poor fight as Uther's warriors, frustrated by the long and futile campaign, exacted revenge for their dead countrymen.

The fight was over by the time Pelleas and I reached the battlefield. We sat our horses in a yellow dawn on the crest of one of the hills overlooking Penmachno and saw what I had foreseen in the embers: warriors lying dead upon a hillside thick with spears like an ash grove. Carrion birds croaked, nocking to their morbid feast, their gleaming black beaks worrying the flesh from the corpses in bloody strips.

Uther allowed the warband to plunder the Irish camp and then remounted them and turned back towards Londinium. Five days later we were met on the road by some of Lord Morcant's chieftains. 'Hail, Uther,' they called as they joined us. 'We bear grievous tidings from Governor Melatus. The High King is dead of poison by one called Appas, a kinsman of Vortigern.'

Uther nodded, his mouth tight, and glanced at me. 'How was this accomplished?'

'By stealth and trickery, lord,' the foremost rider answered bitterly. 'The craven clothed himself after one of Urbanus' kind and gained Aurelius' confidence. Thus he won his way to the High King's chamber and gave him to drink of a draught he had made – to celebrate the king's wedding, he said.' The rider paused, distaste twisting his mouth. 'The High King drank and slept. He awoke in the night screaming with the fever and died before morning.'

'What of Ygerna?' asked Uther, his voice betraying no emotion. 'Did she drink as well?'

'No, lord. The queen had returned with her father to Tintagel for her dower and was to join the king at Uintan Caestir.'

Uther appeared thoughtful. 'What of this Appas?'

'He could not be found in the governor's palace. Nor was he to be found in all the city, lord.'

'Yet, I say that he will be found,' uttered Uther softly. The cold menace in his voice cut like a blade of ice. 'All gods bear witness, on the day that he is discovered he shall share in his friends' reward which he has won by his own hand.' Then he straightened in his saddle and asked aloud, 'Where have they laid my brother?'

'By his own wish, and by Urbanus' order, the High King has been buried at the place of the hanging stones, called the Giant's Ring.' The rider hesitated, then said, 'It was also his wish that you hold the realm after him.'

'Very well, we will turn aside there and pay him honour,’ replied Uther simply. 'Then let us ride to Caer Uintan where I will have my kingmaking. I tell you the truth, Londinium has grown abhorrent to me and I will never again enter that odious city while I draw breath.'

That was one vow Uther held all his remaining days.