Pendragon

THREE

I wakened the next morning to an ill-hushed commotion outside my sleeping-hut. I sat up. The sun had risen, but only just; the light was thin, the air still, yet ringing with the sound that had roused me: the jingle of a horse's tack.

In a moment the sound came again, but it was not that of a single horse. Meanwhile, the slap of bare feet gave way to the whisper of excited voices. I threw aside the lambskin covering and rose from the pallet, quickly pulling on my clothes. Seizing my staff, I went outside.

Upon emerging from the hut I saw the first horses arriving and knew at once what Aedd had done. Without word or hint to us, the canny king had dispatched messengers to each of the other southern lords and these had instantly assembled their warbands, riding through the night to arrive at dawn. This he had done to delight his guests.

'God love him,' Llenlleawg said when he saw the warriors standing in the yard. 'Here breathes a noble Celt indeed.'

Like a sovereign of an elder time, Aedd had seen to the needs of his guests with a graceful, self-effacing generosity. It was a virtue still lauded in song, but now rarely encountered. One could be forgiven for believing that it had passed out of this worlds-realm altogether. But here was a man, king in more than name only, holding to the old way. This nobility lifted him up and exalted him in our eyes, and in the esteem of all who would hear of it in the days to come.

The three southern lords had come: Laigin, Diarmait, and Ulan; with their massed warbands – numbering in excess of two hundred, and all on horseback. Aedd's stronghold could not contain them all, and most waited beyond the bank and ditch. Gwenhwyvar, likewise roused by the noise, appeared and hurried to where Llenlleawg and I stood watching Aedd as he gave orders to the warriors.

Seeing that we had discovered his surprise, Aedd joined us. 'Have you told them of Arthur's need?' Gwenhwyvar asked.

'And demean that great king?' Aedd replied, chiding her gently. 'I would never say such a thing.'

Gwenhwyvar watched the teeming yard and wondered, 'But you must have revealed something of the urgency of our distress to bring them at such speed.'

'Lady' – Aedd smiled expansively – 'I have simply told them that Arthur is desirous of increasing his joy with the pleasure of their company in his various adventures. I may have mentioned the merest possibility of a battle. They fought among themselves to be the first to respond to the summons.'

'My lord and I thank you,' the queen said. 'I pray your kindness will be rewarded many times over.'

Aedd inclined his head, then with a sudden sweep of motion, caught up her hand and kissed it. Gwenhwyvar blushed prettily. 'This is my reward,' he told her. 'I desire nothing more. As for these – ' he lifted a hand to the assembled lords and warriors – 'the chance to fight alongside Arthur and encourage him with Irish valour is all they ask.'

One of the lords, approaching us just then – Ulan, I believe – overheard this remark. 'Arthur has rightly shown his virtue,' he said. 'Now we must demonstrate ours, or for ever hold ourselves men of small regard.'

Again, I heard the echo of an older sentiment in his words. Llenlleawg had recognized it and named it, and he was right. Here in this Emerald Island, the old ways still lingered on. The Irish, for all their failings, yet held to the ideals of their ancestors and clung to the beliefs of an earlier age – when kings were more than power-hungry hounds ever attacking one another and killing off the weaker members of the pack.

Oh, there were Irish kings as grasping as any, of course. But it warmed my heart to see that these few, at least, were not like their brothers.

'I must warn you,' Gwenhwyvar was saying, 'there is sickness in Britain. Plague is there, and more are dying of fever than ever see a Vandal.'

'One enemy is much like another,' Aedd answered. 'Each will be fought in its own way. The plague will be to us only another enemy to be met and matched. We will not shrink from the fight.'

Laigin called, 'Are we to grow old standing here? There is honour to be won, and I mean to get my share.'

'Hear him!' shouted Diarmait. 'Why do we linger even a moment longer when we could be gaining everlasting renown?' At this the gathered Irish sent up a great clamour to be away.

Gwenhwyvar, overcome by the eager affection of her countrymen, turned once more to thank the king. But he would hear nothing of it. 'You see how it is,' Aedd said. 'They will have their share of glory. Send them now, for I can no longer hold them back.'

Gwenhwyvar stepped a few paces nearer the lords. 'Kinsmen and friends,' she said, 'if Arthur were here before you he could in no wise offer you greater thanks than I do now. Go and join him – you will be welcomed. Even so, do not think to increase your renown. For I tell you truly – ' she paused, tears shining in her eyes – 'any glory you win in battle cannot match that which you have already earned this day.'

The Irish lords, and those men close enough to hear, were greatly cheered by Gwenhwyvar's words. No sooner had she finished than Diarmait shouted, 'A blessing! Send us with a blessing!'

Aedd turned to me.

'Myrddin? Would you?'

I took my place beside Gwenhwyvar and raised my staff. Stretching my other hand high, palm outward, I said:

Strength of fortress be yours,

Strength of kingship be yours,

Strength of love and pride of homeland

sustain you through all things.

The circling of Christ to protect you,

The shielding of angels to guard you,

The aiding of God to support you

in the hot rage of battle and the

twistings of the fight.

Be the Holy Christ between you

and all things hurtful,

Be the Holy One of Heaven between you

and all things wicked,

Be the Holy Jesu between your shoulders,

turning every harm to good,

Upholding you with his Swift Sure Hand,

Forever upholding you with his Swift Sure Hand!

So saying, I sent them on their way to Muirbolc and the waiting ships. Aedd bade us dine with him before leaving. Gwenhwyvar declined. 'We will break fast in the saddle, I think, or we shall be left behind.'

We departed the fortress as soon as the horses were saddled. Aedd summoned his chief bard and one of his noblemen and directed them to hold the caer in his absence, saying, 'I give you full freedom to serve me in every cause while I am away. Should evil befall, I bid you to seek the best for the people. If your lot is good, then I urge you to seek its increase and impart the benefit to all within your care.'

Both bard and chieftain vowed to uphold the king's will and extend his renown, whereupon Aedd bade them farewell and we left the stronghold in a white haze of dust.

Upon reaching Muirbolc once more, we dismounted and stood on the cliffside overlooking the bay while the warriors and crewmen undertook to board the horses, a task made difficult by the swirling surge of the tideflow. Once the animals were blindfolded, however, the boarding process proceeded smoothly. Soon the first ships were putting out to sea.

Turning to Aedd, Gwenhwyvar put her hand on his arm. 'Thank you, my friend,' she said. 'You do not know how much your courtesy and thoughtfulness have encouraged me.'

'Never say it,' Aedd replied. 'What I have done is but a small kindness when held against all that you and Arthur have given me.'

'Lord,' Gwenhwyvar wondered, 'what have we given you- save the chance to die on foreign soil fighting an enemy that is no more threat to you?'

'Lady,' the Irish king answered, 'you have granted me the opportunity of raising sword alongside the most exalted hero of this age. If I die, so be it. At least my blood will be mingled with that of champions, and I will enter heaven's fair hall in the company of men of vast and terrible renown. What warrior dares hope for more?'

We joined the ships then, picking our way down the cliffside to the shore. As Llenlleawg boarded the horses, Aedd, Gwenhwyvar and I hurried to our ship waiting a little way out in the bay. The Irish used small round hide boats – hardly larger than leather shields – to carry us so that we would not have to wade through the surf.

Barinthus helped us aboard, leaning low over the side to steady the small coracle. 'The wind is fair for a change and the sea is running. I would we were away, Lord Emrys,' he said as soon as we were all aboard. 'We will make good sailing if we leave at once.'

'Then do so, man,' I urged. 'Lead on, the rest will follow.'

He scurried back to his tiller and began shouting commands to all within sound of his voice. The big square sail swung up on creaking ropes, ruffled in the wind, puffed out, and the ship swung away from the land. Within moments we were running before a fresh wind. The low-riding sun sent yellow rays glancing off the green waves, setting every crest alight and seeding the watery furrows with gold.

Gradually, the greens and gold of water and light deepened to the blues and greys of night as eventide stole over the wide sea-field. Beneath a clear, star-filled sky, the sea danced and glittered, divided at our passing by the ship's sharp prow, swirling in pools of molten moonlight in our wake. The air remained warm, occasionally wafting cool crosscurrents that splashed across my face. I remained awake, watching the lively sky and the slow progress of the glowing moon across heaven's vaulted dome.

To be alive to the wonder of the commonplace, I thought, that is the very gift of a wildly generous Creator, who ever invites his creatures to contemplate the exuberance of his excellent handiwork. There is a deep and abiding joy at work in this worlds-realm, and we who toil through our lives do often forget this, or overlook it. But look: it is all around! Ceaseless, unrelenting, certain as sunrise, and constant as the rhythm of a heartbeat.

I stood, as I say, at the prow through the night, the stars and silent, watchful Barinthus my only companions. Toward morning I saw the rich darkness of the eastern sky begin to fade. I watched the sunrise with eyes beguiled by night's veiled mysteries.

Dawnlight streaked the sky with the red of blood and banners, staining the deep-hued water. The play of liquid light and sinuous shadow cast me into a melancholy mood. I felt the coming of day as the approach of a predatory presence. My scalp tingled; my stomach tightened. My vision grew keen.

The boat rode the tideflow and the sunrise glinted like molten metal in flux, swirling, bubbling, moving. I lifted my eyes to the opposite shore, now in shadowed silhouette against a burning sky. It seemed to me as if the boat were no longer moving through water, but gliding over endlessly coiling clouds – passing like a phantom through the very essence of this worlds-realm.

Behind me the world of sense and substance, stark and solid, faded from view; before me opened the glimmering, insubstantial Otherworld. The boat, its bull-necked pilot, and my fellow passengers vanished – as if stolen by an all-obscuring mist. I felt the rising upsurge of my spirit as it shook off the dull, unfeeling flesh and soared free. Fresh wind rushed over my body; I tasted sweet air on my tongue. In the space of three heartbeats, my feet touched a far distant shore.

A woman wearing a long gown of gleaming sea blue stood waiting for me. Fair efface and form, she raised a slender hand and beckoned me to follow. I moved as one without thought or will, shielding my dazzled eyes with my hand. I looked for the sun, but could see it no more. The sky itself glowed with the intensity of brilliant white gold, a radiant firmament reflecting a great hidden source of light that was everywhere present, casting no shadows.

The woman led me to the foot of a high hill a short distance from the shore; the estuary had disappeared and a sparkling green sea stretched to the far horizon. We walked up the hill, the broad flank covered with grass so green it glowed in the golden light like sun-struck emerald.

Atop the hill a standing stone pointed like a long finger towards the shining sky. The woman, her long hair black as polished jet, her green eyes shining with wisdom's undimmed light, lifted her hand to the stone and, in a voice soft as the breeze rippling the grass on the hilltop, asked, 'Can you read the stone, little man?'

I stepped to the stone and saw that its rough surface was deeply carved with the spirals, knotwork, and maze-like patterns of old. I gazed at the ancient designs, letting my eye follow the intricate tracery of the cunning lines. Though I had seen it countless times before, I could make no sense of it.

'I cannot read them,' I confessed, and turned away from the stone to see the woman's face cloud and tears begin to fall from her lovely eyes. She buried her face in her hands and her slender shoulders shook with sobs. 'Lady,' I said, agitation making my voice tight, 'why do you weep?'

'For sorrow that this confession should fall from your lips,' she said. 'For you, above all men, should heed the signs carved in the stone.'

'I read words,' I countered. 'Give me words and I will discern their meaning.'

She raised her tearful eyes and gazed upon me with an expression of deepest grief and mourning. 'Alas and woe,' she said, 'now is our doom come upon us! Once there was a time when you would have beheld these selfsame signs and their meaning would have been clear to you. This is my lament: you then, O Son of Dust, might have read them as men now read their precious books.'

This last was said as she turned and walked away. I started after her, but she held up her hand and bade me stay. 'There will come after me another, one who will lead you back the way you came.'

By this I thought that I would return to the world I had left behind. Either I was mistaken, or she meant something else, for I waited and no one appeared. Yet something held me on that high hill through a day and a night.

I slept through the dark period and awoke to see a maiden approach. She came to stand beside the tall stone. 'I give you good greeting,' she said, and smiled. Her teeth were even and white, her brow high and smooth; her eyes were bright. She was dressed in a mantle of green and gold, and her feet were bare.

In her hands she held a cloth-wrapped bundle, which she opened to reveal a harp. The harp was none other than my own, for I recognized it.

'What is this?' she asked in a voice to charm small birds from the sky. And before I could answer, she added in a warning tone, 'Though you think you know it, surely you know it not at all.'

'I would be ignorant indeed not to know what I myself have held and played a thousand times,' I replied. 'It is my harp.'

She shook her head sadly. 'Though you say it is a harp and speak the word forthrightly, it is clear you do not know it. For if you had spoken in truth, this instrument would have sung its name aloud. The sound of your voice alone would have called forth music.'

The maiden turned away, and with a world-weary sadness, rested the harp against the rune-carved standing stone. 'There will come after me another who will lead you back the way you came,' she said, and disappeared, leaving me alone once more.

Three days and three nights passed, and I awoke on the fourth day to see a tall youth standing beside the stone-so still he might have been a part of it. Like the woman, his hair was dark and his eyes green. His cloak was blue like the sky, and his shirt leaf green, his trousers yellow gold, and his belt white as a cloud. He carried a large cup, or bowl, in his hands.

Upon seeing him, I rose and stood before him. 'I have been waiting for you,' I told him, suddenly irritated at the delay.

'Though every heartbeat was a thousand years,' he answered, 'you have not tarried half so long as I have waited for you.' Anger leapt in his eyes like lightning seaming black storm clouds with fire. 'I have waited all my life for you.'

'Who are you?' I asked.

'I am the King of Summer,' he replied.

I knelt before him. 'I am your servant, lord.'

'Stand on your feet, little man. You were never servant to me,' he sneered. 'For how is it that the servant does not recognize his lord?'

'But I have never seen you,' I insisted. 'Even so, I stand ready to serve you through all things.'

'Get you away from me, False-hearted One. For if you had been my servant you would have heard my call. And you would know what it is I hold here in my hands.'

'When did you call me, lord?'

'Myrddin,' he replied in a voice aching with sorrow, 'I have ever called you. From before the beginning of the world I have sung your name.'

'Please, lord,' I cried, 'forgive me. I did not hear… I did not know.'

With a look of mingled sorrow and disgust, he placed the cup he carried beside the stone next to the harp. He then started away. 'Lord, I beg you!' I called after him.

He paused and looked back. 'After me will come another who will lead you back the way you came.'

The Summer Lord vanished then, and I was alone once more. I contemplated the stone and its carved symbols; I gazed upon the harp, but did not play it; and mused over the meaning of the cup.

Three days passed on my lonely hilltop, and three dark nights. A sound came to me as I slept, and I awakened. I rose and stood, listening for the sound that had roused me. Almost at once, I heard someone singing in a clear, strong voice. My heart beat more quickly. I knew the voice… though I had heard it only once before – for there is none like it in all the world or any other. I heard it, and, oh! I knew it.

Taliesin!