Merlin

TEN

Aurelius left the church and the throng pushed after him, spilling into the yard, cheering still. Torches lit the night, and from somewhere, above the wild celebration, there came a song. Slowly, softly, gaining strength as men and women took up the melody; the song, an old Briton battle song, became a hymn to the new High King. And Aurelius stood ringed by his lords in the torchlight, his crown gleaming as if with captured stars, arms outstretched, turning and turning as the song flowed upward, spreading in rings like a fountain in a pool. They sang:

'Rise up, bold warriors,

take steel in your strong hands,

the foeman stands below, loudly shouting.

Sound the horn and iron, gather spear and shield;

the day is bright for battle,

and glory for the taking.

Mount up, brave warband, the battlechief is fearless;

bold leader, keen in victory,

he will win the hero's portion,

and the bards laud his name in song-making.

Voices echoing down the narrow streets, the crowd followed Aurelius to the governor's palace. Given time, the governor too had changed his mind about Aurelius. For upon his return Aurelius found Governor Melatus of a much-changed disposition. Fearful of offending such a powerful ally, Melatus had extended every hospitality of the city – which was heavily taxed finding places for all the kings and lords attending Aurelius. So it was to the governor's palace that Aurelius went now, to celebrate the Feast of Christ Mass with his lords.

The palace glowed beacon-bright in the winter night with candletrees and torches and fires in the courtyard. Large as it was, not everyone could be accommodated in the governor's hall that night. But it made no difference, for the doors were opened wide and the celebration filled the courtyard.

Oh, it was a gladsome time – a feast of love and light for winter's ending. I was uneasy in one detail only: Uther and Gorlas had not arrived.

What could be keeping them, I wondered? They should have reached Londinium long ago.

Aurelius seemed not to notice their absence. He was too much occupied with drinking the health of his lords and receiving their pledges of fealty. But I noticed. And as the feasting began and continued, Uther's and Gorlas' absence weighed on me.

Telleas, are you certain they were coming after you?' I had pulled Pelleas aside to ask him.

'Assuredly, my lord.'

'What can be preventing them?'

Pelleas frowned. 'More trouble, do you think?'

'Perhaps.'

'What would you have me do, lord?'

'Nothing for now; stay here. I may leave for a little while to see if I can discover what has become of Other.' So saying, I left the hall and made my way through the courtyard. The citizens of Londinium, drawn by the noise and light, flocked to the celebration, and the courtyard revelry now overflowed into the streets. More people were joining all the time.

I entertained no hope of reaching the stable to get a horse, so, pulling my cloak around me, I pushed through the streaming throng and made my way to the western gates, which, as I expected, were closed and barred for the night. Also as I expected, the gatesmen were nowhere to be found; doubtless they had abandoned their duty at first opportunity.

Thinking only to take a look on the other side, I climbed the steps to the wall walk and gazed down upon the road. To my surprise, there was Uther, sword in hand, fuming and furious, standing in the dark, cursing the gate. He had been banging on the wooden door with the pommel of his sword, but of course no one had heard him.

'Uther!' I shouted.

He glanced up, but could not see me. 'Who is it? Open this gate at once or, by my life, I will burn it down.'

'It is Myrddin,' I answered.

'Merlin!' He stepped towards me. 'What do you here? Open the gate.'

'Where are the others?'

'I have sent them to find another way in. Gorlas waits on the road. This is embarrassing, Merlin, let us in.'

'Gladly, if I could. The gate is barred and the gatesmen are gone. Everyone has joined the feast at the governor's palace.'

'Well, do something. It is cold and we are tired.'

'I will see what can be done. Go and bring Gorlas here, and one way or another I will see that these gates are opened.'

As Uther mounted his horse and rode to fetch Gorlas, I hurried back down, and, taking a torch from the wall beside the gatesman's hut, I went to the gate. The wooden beam was secured by a crosswise iron bar that held it in place. The iron could not be withdrawn for it was clamped, and the clamp fastened with a lock. It began to appear as if Uther would have to burn down the gate after all – unless…

Now I had scarcely thought of the lore I had learned with the Hill Folk those many years ago, and certainly I had rarely used their art. But what is a gate but wood and iron, after all? There was no one around, so I quickly drew my knife and scratched a circle in the wood around the lock. Then I uttered the words in the Old Tongue, amazed that I had not forgotten.

At a touch, the lock simply fell off, and the wooden beam slid easily beneath my hand. With a finger I pushed and the huge gate swung open on groaning hinges.

Soon I heard horses on the road ahead; I lifted the torch and held it high. Uther appeared and Gorlas with him. But there was another, riding between them; and, as they came within the circle of light created by my torch, I saw that it was a woman. Young, beautiful, wrapped in furs to her chin, a silver circlet on her fair brow. Gorlas' queen?

'I did not know Gorlas had taken a queen,' I whispered to Uther as Lord Gorlas and his escort passed through the gate. He sat his saddle and watched the lord and lady ride on.

'She is Ygerna, his daughter,' Uther informed me. 'A rare flower of womanhood, is she not?'

I stared up at the man. I had never heard Uther utter such a sentiment. 'She is fair indeed,' I allowed. 'But Aurelius is waiting. What has detained you?'

Uther shrugged, and replied, as if it explained all, 'A woman was with us.'

A woman. She was little more than a maid. And although she was beautiful, she did not appear frail or debilitated in any way. Indeed, the bloom of youth was on her and, to my eye, she seemed to have endured the rigours of her journey most commendably.

Telleas told me about the attack.'

'The attack?' Uther asked, then nodded absently. 'Oh, that. It was nothing.'

'Well, Aurelius is waiting. You have missed the crowning.'

Uther accepted this amiably. 'I would have been here if I could. Is he angry?'

'In truth,' I replied, 'I do not think he has noticed your absence yet. If you hurry now, he may not.'

'We will make haste then,' said Uther placidly. 'But, Merlin, have you ever seen a woman so fair? Have you ever seen such eyes as hers?'

The last of Gorlas' men had passed through the gate. 'Go on with you, I will wait here until your men return.' I do not know if Uther even heard me, for without a word he turned his horse and trotted after Gorlas.

As it happened, I did not have long to wait. One of Uther's men approached the gate almost at once. I gave him instructions to wait for the others and bar the gates again when all had passed through.

Flying back along the streets, I returned to the governor's palace where the celebration continued. Uther was engaged in ordering stablehands to attend the horses. Gorlas and Ygerna stood a little way off, looking on at the roister around them. The fires leapt high in the courtyard and the governor's beer flowed freely to match the high spirits and liberal good will for the new High King.

Her face illumined by the fireglow, I had a moment to assess this beauty that had so bewitted Uther. She was, perhaps, all of fifteen years. Tall, slender, her finely-formed head borne gracefully on an elegant neck, she lacked the awkward girlishness of her age and appeared far more mature. Nor was appearance deceiving: Gorlas' wife had died when the girl was still a babe and she had been raised from childhood to be the lady of the realm.

This I learned later. At the time, I saw only a comely girl with soft-woven brown hair and large dark eyes, in whose pretty smile a man might gladly lose himself.

'Will you be announced?' I asked Gorlas.

'Are we not expected?' he answered hotly, then turned to me. 'Oh! it is you, Merlin… ' My name was spoken like an oath. He worked his mouth silently, and at last forced out, 'As you think best.'

No, Gorlas wasted no love on me. But he respected me, and no doubt feared me a little – as any lord fears the man closest to his ruler's ear. 'We will go in together then, since -' I began.

'I will see to it,' Uther said, shoving between us. He turned Gorlas by the arm and led him off across the courtyard. I watched the three of them walking between the leaping flames of two fires and I saw Ygerna step lightly between Uther and Gorlas. Everything froze in my sight, all sound and motion ceased, vision narrowed as in that instant a deathly foreboding awakened within me. Nothing else existed but the terrible vision before me:

Ygerna between two kings.

Here was the nameless danger I had felt earlier in the day, redoubled in force. Ygernal Oh, fair daughter, in your hands rests the future of the realm. Tonight you are destiny's handmaiden. Do you realize that?

No, of course she could have no idea. There was virtue as well as nobility in her rearing. Her natural innocence prevented her from using her beauty as a less scrupulous woman would have. Another year or two older, and I might have been seeing the end of the world stepping so lightly between the coronation fires.

I made my way after them, stumbling, numb, coming into the hall as they approached the High King. Uther worked to his brother's side. Aurelius welcomed him, clapped him on the back – I think that until this moment the High King had not a thought to spare for his brother – and thrust a drinking cup into Uther's hand. Uther took the cup, drank, and passed it to Gorlas, who proclaimed his loyalty to the High Kingship.

Then Aurelius' eyes fell upon Ygerna. I saw him smile. I saw the change in his nature as he beheld her. Perhaps it was the giddiness of celebration, or the play of light upon her face, or youth calling to youth, or merely the wine running strong in Aurelius' veins. Perhaps it was something more… But I saw love kindled in that first brief glance.

Alas, I was not the only one to see it!

Uther stiffened. Had he been a porcupine he would have bristled. His grin froze on his face and the light died in his eyes. He seemed to grow visibly smaller as he stood in his brother's shadow.

Oblivious, Aurelius made a gentle remark. Ygerna lowered her eyes and laughed, shaking her head in response. Gorlas placed his hand on his daughter's shoulder and drew her forward. A minute gesture, imperceptible perhaps to anyone else, but I saw it and read well its meaning. Whether he knew it or not – I do not say that he did – Gorlas was offering his daughter to the High King.

And Aurelius, dear blind Aurelius, unaware of his brother, accepted her with the whole of his heart. He offered Ygerna the cup and his fingers lingered at her hand. Ygerna glanced meekly at Uther.

That look might have saved much, but Uther did not see it. He stared ahead dumbly – a man whose head has been severed from his body in a single stroke and knows for certain that he is dead and now must fall.

Then Aurelius bent near and whispered something to Ygerna. She smiled shyly and Aurelius threw back his head and laughed. This could not be endured; Uther turned on his heel and flew from them, disappearing into the roister. Ygerna looked uncertainly after him; her hand fluttered out to where he had been. But Uther was already gone and Aurelius was speaking again and Gorlas, holding his cup high, was beaming with delight.

I felt as if I had been kicked in the stomach by my horse, as if the floor had become unsteady beneath my feet, as if I had drunk a very powerful draught that confused the senses. The room spun and all became sharp noise and sharper light. Pelleas was suddenly there beside me. 'Master, what is wrong? Are you ill?'

'Take me from here,’ I whispered. 'I cannot breathe.' A moment later we were standing outside in the crisp, cold air. My head cleared and sense returned, but I was left with the sick feeling of deepest dread. What had been lost? More to the point, what could be saved?

I marvelled at the speed with which it had happened. How could I have foreseen it? Oh, but I should have known. I had been warned – out on the road my danger sense had been aroused, but I had not looked for the cause. Come to that, I had been amply warned in Celyddon. Nevertheless, my only thought had been to get the crown securely on Aurelius' head. I had looked no further than that.

It is strange that when a man spends all his time fighting one enemy, he fails to recognize another, greater foe. I knew him now, but it was too late. The damage was done. The Saecsen battles of last summer would dim in men's memory before I finished righting the destruction of this night. Great Light, we are not equal to the fight! Pelleas held me by the arm. 'Laid and master, are you well?' The concern hi his voice was like a slap. 'What has happened?'

I drew a deep, unsteady breath. 'The world has tilted from its course, Pelleas.'

He stared – not in disbelief, but in sympathy. 'What is to be done?'

‘That I cannot say. But we will be long repairing the breach, I fear.'

He turned his head and looked back into the feast hall, where the High King stood with his lords. Gorlas and Ygerna had moved away to find their places at the board. The food was being served now and it would have been sweet delight to have forgotten, if only for a moment, that what happened had ever taken place.

But that is not how the world is made. Once spoken, a word cannot be called back; once loosed, an arrow cannot return to the bow. What happens, for good or ill, happens for ever and that is the way of it.

The feast proceeded, but I had no appetite for it. I left Pelleas to watch for Uther, knowing he would not be found, and slipped away to my room. There was nothing to be done.

I did not sleep well and rose with a throbbing head and a bitter taste in my mouth. The sun was rising on a grey, rain-swept day. Londinium lay strangely quiet; most of its citizens must have found their rest but late and were still abed. From the church nearby I heard the light tolling of a bell. The brothers were telling Prime and would soon be at prayer.

I rose, threw my cloak over my shoulder and went down, slipping through the silent house, and across the wet yard to the church. I pushed open the door and entered. A number of monks were kneeling before the altar and I started towards them.

'Merlinus!' The whisper echoed in the room. Several of the monks turned round to look at me. I stopped and Urbanus hurried forward, his sandals slapping the stones at his feet. 'I did not think to find you here. I was about to send for you."

I heard the note of strain in his voice. 'I am here. What is it?'

'It is Dafyd,' he said. 'Come with me; I will take you to him.'

Urbanus led me out across the inner court to the cells. Monks had gathered outside one of the doors. They parted when we came up, and Urbanus ushered me into the room. Dafyd lay on a pallet of fresh straw in a room illumined by a candle tree brought from the altar. He smiled as I came in and lifted a hand in greeting. Gwythelyn was with him, kneeling beside him, praying; he turned to me and I understood from his grave expression that Dafyd was dying.

'Ah, Myrddin, you have come. That is good. I hoped to see you here.'

I sank down beside Gwythelyn, my heart a bruise in my chest. 'Dafyd, I – 'I began and faltered. Where were the words?

'Shhh,' Dafyd hushed me. 'It was in my mind to thank you.'

'Thank me?' I shook my head.

'For letting me see the future, lad.' We were once again master and pupil in his mind, ending as we had begun. 'I had a dream last night, wondrous and terrible: I saw Aurelius striving mightily against a black and raging storm. He was beaten down and his cloak torn in rags from his shoulders. But, when it seemed that he must be ground into the dust, his hand closed upon a sword. He grasped it and it was his strength. Up he rose, holding the sword before him. Oh, the lightning flashed and the thunder rent the heavens. But Aurelius – I knew him for I saw his golden tore shining at his throat – raised his great sword and would not be moved.'

'Truly, it is a dream of great significance,' I told him, taking his hand.

'Oh, aye!' Dafyd's eyes shone with the wonder of it. He bore no pain, and rested comfortably. But I could feel his life slipping away from him. 'It was a fine kingmaking, was it not? I would not like to have missed it.'

'Rest you now,' urged Gwythelyn, fingering a small wooden cross.

'Son,' Dafyd replied lightly, 'I have rested, and soon must begin my journey hence. Have no fear for me, neither grieve. For I go to join my Lord and take my place in his retinue. Look! Here is Michael himself come to escort me!' He pointed towards the door. I saw no one, but did not doubt him. His face shone with the light of his vision.

Tears started into my eyes; I raised his hand to my lips and kissed it. 'Farewell, Dafyd, most noble friend. Greet Ganieda for me, and Taliesin.'

'That I will do,' he replied, his voice a whisper between his teeth. 'Farewell, Myrddin Bach. Farewell, Gwythelyn.' He raised an admonitory hand to us, saying, 'Grow strong in faith, and mighty in love, my friends. Be bold in goodness, for the angels stand ready to aid you. Farewell… '

The smile lingered on his face, even as his spirit departed. He died as he had lived: peacefully, gently, lovingly.

My heart split in two and I cried – not for grief, but because a great soul had gone out of the world and men would know it no more.

Gwythelyn bent his head and prayed quietly, then took Dafyd's hands and folded them upon his still breast. 'I will take him home now,' he said. 'He wished to be buried beside his church.'

"That would be best,' I replied.

'You bear no blame in this, Myrddin,' Gwythelyn said unexpectedly. I looked up. 'It was his desire to come here. He told me last night that crowning Aurelius was one of the chief acts of his life. He was glad you asked him to do it.'

I gazed at Dafyd's face, which seemed now to have taken on something of its former youthful appearance. And I remembered when he had held the crown above my head. There were few alive who would remember that, except perhaps as a tale told by a grandfather to his grandchildren. But, remembering, I bent and kissed Dafyd's cheek.

'Farewell, good friend,' I murmured, then rose abruptly and left – not for lack of feeling or respect – but because Dafyd had gone, and I had seen him on his way. And now I must be about this world's affairs, if I was to salvage anything from the ruin of last night.