Taliesin

CHAPTER SIX

Taliesin did not see Charis that night when he sang once more before Avallach. Nor did he see her the next morning or all that day. Late in the afternoon he saddled his horse and went out to ride, in the hope that he might catch a glimpse of her as she rode about the hills.

Instead, he happened upon the camp that Dafyd and Collen had established near the shrine.

“Hail, Taliesin!” called Dafyd, coming to meet him as he rode up. Collen stood from the pot he was stirring at the fire, smiled, and waved his welcome.

“Greetings, holy man,” said Taliesin, leading the horse into the camp. He tied the reins to a nearby holly bush and turned to observe the small, wattled shrine on the hilltop above them. “This is where the Good God is worshiped?”

“Here, yes, and everywhere else his name is known,” Dafyd answered.

“All creation is his-ah… his temple,” offered Collen. The young man blushed and asked, “Did I say it right?”

“Most excellently said!” laughed Dafyd. “All creation his temple, yes.” He gestured toward the shrine. “But this-this is a special place.”

“How so?” asked Taliesin. “Is the hill sacred? Or the spring that runs Below it?”

Dafyd shook his head. “Neither hill nor spring, Taliesin. If this place is sacred, it is because it was here the name of Jesu was first honored in this land.”

Taliesin gazed around him. “A curious place. Why here?”

“Come, sit down. We were just about to have our meal. Share it with us and I will tell you about this place.” He noticed Taliesin’s quick glance at the pot. “Do not worry; there is enough. And Collee is a fine cook. The Gauls have a way with food, you know.”

Taliesin sat down and accepted an earthenware bowl and wooden spoon. After a short prayer by Dafyd, the three began to eat. Following the stew, there was mulled wine in beakers. They sipped contentedly and watched and listened as twilight deepened over the land. The first stars were glowing in the sky when Dafyd put aside his beaker and said, “There was a tribe that lived in this region a long time ago. They lived in houses built on pilings in the lake Below the Tor. They had a chief and a druid, and they fished in the lakes and meres round about and raised sheep on the Tor.

“On this hill they buried their dead, for they had raised an idol of stone here, a headless thing-they kept its head in a little cave by the spring and brought it out now and then to watch their ceremonies. They lived after the ways of their people, little noticed by the greater world beyond the borders of this land.

“But one day there came among them men from the east, Jews whose leader was a man named Joseph-the same Joseph of whom it is written that he took pity on our Lord in death and gave his new-cut tomb for Jesu’s burial. It was this Joseph, and one called Nicodemus, who requested the body of Jesu from Governor Pilate and who saw to it that he was properly buried.

“Now Joseph was a wealthy man, deriving his wealth from the tin trade, the business of his father. As a boy in Arima-thea, Joseph accompanied his father on his journeys to the various mines around the world. Once, or perhaps more often, they came here, to the Island of the Mighty, to trade with the Britons.

“Joseph must have remembered and thought well of the land hereabouts, because after our Lord was taken up into Heaven, Joseph returned to this place, bringing with him some others who were followers of the Christ. Also, they brought with them the Holy Chalice, the Cup of the Lord’s Supper, which Jesu had used the evening before his death.

“It was this same Joseph who caused a shrine to be erected on this hill.”

“This shrine?” wondered Taliesin.

“No, I think not. Surely there have been other shrines since then. But Joseph and his family and the men with him lived on here for a space of years, consecrating this place with their prayers, living in peace with all, and winning many friends and Believers to the Eternal Kingdom-although not, I think, the chief of the Lake People, who never became a Believer. Still the old chief must have been much impressed with these visitors, for he gave them land amounting to twelve hides. Eventually Joseph and his people died and the land remembered them no more.”

“But the-er, shrine… remained,” offered Collen.

“Oh yes, the shrine remained. And from time to time others have come and rebuilt it. Some say the Apostle Philip came here for fasting and prayer, and other saints at various times.”

“Why did you come?” asked Taliesin.

Dafyd smiled. “To revive the worship of the True God among the people of this place. Indeed, there are many of my brothers likewise employed. Our Lord is moving in the world and making himself known among men. He goes before us to point out the way, and we follow.” The priest shrugged diffidently. “We are privileged to share in this work.”

Taliesin considered this. “As you know,” he said, “I have met the True God-in the Qtherworld.” He noted Collen’s grimace at the words and said, “Does this alarm you?”

“To be sure,” allowed Dafyd, “it is not the usual way in which our God reveals himself to men. But,” he added with a generous wave of his hand, “you are not at all the usual sort of man. Our Lord makes himself known however he will, to whoever he will, in whatever manner serves his purpose.” Dafyd paused and smiled. “We tend to forget that we are his servants and not the other way around. It is not the servant’s place to rebuke the master. If nothing prevents you, tell me about this revelation. I should like to hear it.”

“Nothing prevents me,” replied Taliesin, “and I tell it gladly.” He began to describe the Otherworld and the fog that he encountered while trying to discern the future for his people. “The fog grew thick and I became lost. He came to me in the form of an Ancient One in a shining raiment. He met me there and revealed himself to me… showed me the secrets of the ages…” Taliesin fell silent, reliving the wonder of it.

Dafyd did not intrude and in a little while Taliesin continued. “For many days thereafter I could not eat or speak. My mind was filled with the glory of what I had seen and heard, but I could not express it. That is why when I saw you, I cried out-my tongue was suddenly loosed and I spoke the words that had been burning in my heart.”

“Your words were a hymn, Taliesin,” replied Dafyd. “I will remember it always.”

“It is-um, fortunate,” offered Collen, “for you to meet us. Who else would have known what you said?”

“Fortunate indeed. Providential!” said Dafyd. “But you are a druid, Taliesin, and honor many gods among your people. How is it that you should renounce all others and choose to follow this God?”

“It was at his command. But even so, among our people a man is free to follow whatever god he will-sometimes one, sometimes another, or none at all-depending on his fortunes. We know many gods and not a few goddesses and worship all alike. There is even one that has no name but is known only as the Good God.

“Among the learned, however, it is Believed that all gods are aspects of the same god; so a druid may worship any god acceptable to his people and know in is own heart that to worship one is to worship all.”

“I still do not understand how you knew it was the True God who called you.”

Taliesin smiled expansively. “That is no mystery. Truth is alive, is it not? All my life I have sought the truth of things; how then should I not recognize it when it was revealed to me?

“Besides, it was not the first time I had met him,” continued Taliesin. “Once before, when I was a boy visiting the Otherworld for the first time, he appeared to me and told me that he would be my guide and teach me what to say. But I did not see him again until we came to this place.”

“And here he revealed who he was?”

“Yes. But he would not allow me to speak of what I had seen. He sealed my speech until I saw you. He told me again that he would teach me what to say.” Taliesin leaned forward and touched Dafyd on the arm. “Now, I have been pondering this and I Believe it means that you are to be the instrument through which this teaching is accomplished.”

Dafyd pushed the notion aside with his hands. “You honor me, Lord Taliesin. It is more fitting for me to sit at your feet and receive instruction from you. Certainly a man who has spoken with the Christ face to face has much to teach the rest of us.”

Taliesin was surprised. “You have never seen him?”

“Never,” replied Dafyd, smiling. “Do not wonder at this.

Not many of his followers have been so privileged. Very few, in fact.”

“I wonder that you follow him then,” remarked Taliesin. “A Lord you have never seen.”

“It is written: ‘Because you have seen me you have Believed; blessed are those who have not seen, and yet have Believed.’ Our Lord knew the difficulty and put his blessings on the faith of those to whom it is not given to see him. In that we are content. I suppose it is like your Otherworld: many Believe, although few mortal feet ever tread those paths.”

“True, true,” agreed Taliesin. “Still, men would Believe more readily if the One God showed himself more openly, would they not?”

“Perhaps,” said Dafyd. “Once he walked in the world as a man, and though many Believed, many others did not. Belief is not always born of sight. Therefore, it is the Savior’s striving to bring faith into the world. We Believe by faith, and by faith we are saved from sin and death. What kind of faith is it that Believes only what can be seen with the eyes or touched with the hands?”

“Faith is so important then?”

“Oh, aye, it is. So very important,” remarked Dafyd. “There is no other way to come to the True God but through faith.”

Taliesin mused on this and at last said, “Why should he choose me? And why choose this place to reveal himself?”

Collen, who had been following the conversation as well as he could, piped up then. “He is bringing all together in his good time,” he said and smiled triumphantly. “You are here. We are here. We are together.”

“Well said, Collen,” Dafyd praised him. Collen smiled sheepishly and stooped to stir the fire with a stick. “It is true.” The priest turned to Taliesin, his face eager in the firelight. “We have been brought together for this purpose. Very well, I will teach you, Taliesin. And together we will raise a fortress-a fortress of faith which the darkness will not overcome!”

They talked long into the night. As Dafyd expected, Taliesin proved a most astute pupil. The quickness of his mind was rivaled only by the keenness of his insight and his remarkable memory.

Dafyd talked until he became hoarse. He described the land of Israel and the old, old prophecies concerning the Messiah; talked about Jesu’s birth, his life, and the miracles he performed; explained the meaning of the cruel crucifixion and the miraculous resurrection when Jesus came forth triumphant from the grave, and would have gone on talking- for Taliesin would have gone on listening-had the fire not died and the night chill stolen in upon them. But Dafyd rubbed his eyes and peered at the smoldering ashes and at Brother Collen curled sound asleep. A deep quiet lay on the hill and the night was dark, for the moon had set some time ago.

“I have talked enough for one night,” said Dafyd wearily. “Ah,” he sighed, “listen… The sound of the world at peace.”

“The night itself calms the world’s strivings,” replied Taliesin, “in honor of the Lord of Peace.”

“So be it,” Dafyd replied, yawning. “Let us enjoy some of that peace now while we may.”

In all, Taliesin spent four days with Dafyd and Collen. At the end of it, Dafyd shook his head wearily and exclaimed, “I have told you everything I know! Only the Holy Brothers in Tours could tell you more.” He looked up sharply. “Why, you should go there, Taliesin. Sit at their feet-wring them dry, as you have wrung me! At least their knowledge would not be exhausted so quickly.”

“You have done well, Brother Dafyd. Better than you know,” said Taliesin. “And I thank you. I would reward you, had I anything of value to give. Still, if I possess anything which you desire, you have but to name it.”

“Freely you have received, Taliesin, now freely give. We are not to put a price on our knowledge or make learning a wall between us and the people. Besides, do not feel you have to reward a friend for a small thing done out of friendship.”

Taliesin embraced the priest. “My friend,” he said, and then set about saddling his horse.

“Go to Tours, Taliesin. Martin is there-a truly remarkable man. He can teach you much that I cannot. He is a scholar and most learned in the faith. He would welcome a pupil like you.”

“I will consider it,” promised Taliesin. “But first I must return to Avallach’s palace. I will come back when I can. Until then, farewell!”

“Farewell!”

Taliesin rode through the little valley between the two hills and around the Tor, skirting the marsh and water. He reached the causeway that connected the Tor with dry land beyond and continued to the palace. Hafgan was waiting for him when he reached the courtyard.

“Four days, Taliesin,” Hafgan told him. “Your father has been asking for you-and King Avallach as well.”

“Has it been four days? It seems only a moment.”

They began walking into the palace. “Where were you?”

“With the priest Dafyd. I have been busy learning the ways of the True God.”

“And with rolling in the mud by the look of you.”

“We worked while we talked. The time took wings.” He stopped walking and turned to the Chief Druid, gripping him by the arm. “He is the One, Hafgan. I am certain of it. The Most High. He lived as a man among men, away in the east. Jesu was his name, but he called himself the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Think of it, Hafgan!”

“Ah, yes,” replied the druid. “I remember Cormach telling me about this Jesu. The signs of his coming were very great, Cormach said. But there are many gods, after all. Would it not be better to worship this one along with the others?”

“He is Love and Light. And he must be worshiped in all truth. The other gods are as grass before him and are not to be worshiped beside him. It would not do. Besides, why honor the creature when the Creator is present?”

“There is something in what you say,” considered Hafgan. “But no other god demands such allegiance. There are many who will not abide such stricture.”

“Truth is all truth, Hafgan. You taught me that. There cannot be even the smallest grain of falsehood in it or it is not truth. I have discovered the source of all truth; how can I deny what I know?”

“Do not deny it, Taliesin. I would never ask that of you.” He made to move on, but Taliesin held him fast. “The gods of our people: Gofannon the Smith; Clota, Death Goddess; Taranis, the Thunderer; Epona, maiden of the Horses; Ma-bon, the Golden Youth, Brighid of the Silver Spindle; Cer-nunnos, Forest Lord… even Lieu of the Long Hand himself-all point to the One, the Nameless Good God. You know this, Hafgan. He is the one the derwydd have always sought. He is the reason the learned have walked the paths of the Otherworld from times beyond remembering. It was the Christ we were looking for, Hafgan. And now he is revealed.”

The Chief Druid mulled this over for a long time. At last, glancing into Taliesin’s eyes and the bright light burning there, he said, “I am satisfied that it is as you say. But turning away from the gods of our fathers”

“Think not of turning away, Hafgan. Consider only turning from image to object, stepping from shadow into light, exchanging slavery for freedom.”

Hafgan smiled. “You are a most formidable opponent, Tal-iesin. Already your words are weapons for the Good God’s cause.”

“Every warrior is sworn to bear arms for his lord and to fight when-need arises. The enemy gathers round about, Hafgan. The alarm is sounded; the foe is at the gates; the battle must be joined.”

“Oh, aye, but do not expect everyone to follow you into battle.”

They walked into the palace and entered the great hall. Bright sunlight shone in from the high windows, scattering white gold from the polished stone surfaces of the walls. Tal-iesin glanced around quickly. “Where has everyone gone?”

“They grew restless in the hall, so Cuall has taken them to a camp not far away. However, your father and King Aval-lach await us in the king’s chamber.”

They crossed the bright expanse of the hall, their reflections wavering over the glasslike surface of the floor like men walking on water, and came to the curtain at the far end. At their approach a seneschal pulled back the curtain and they passed through.

As they entered the chamber, Avallach was saying, “-an alliance between our two peoples would be advantageous to us both. My brother and I have discussed this at length and we agree that…”

Sitting on either side of the Fisher King were two men of appearance similar to Avallach: long dark hair in heavy curls, thick black beards, rich clothing, jeweled daggers in wide Belts of gilded leather. They possessed the same extravagant stature and manly grace; there could be no question but that they were Faery and Avallach’s kin as well.

All eyes turned, toward Taliesin as he entered the room. “Ah, here is Taliesin now,” said Elphin, rising to meet him. “We were waiting for you.”

“I beg your pardon, Sires,” he said, addressing both Aval-lach and his father. “I was engaged elsewhere and have only just returned.”

“This is the one I have been telling you about,” Avallach murmured to the man on his right, “the singer.” He turned to Taliesin. “My brother, Belyn,” he said, “and my son, Maildun.” To both he said, “Prince Taliesin, son of King Elphin.”

“King Avallach has suggested an alliance between our people,” Elphin informed him. “We were just about to discuss it.”

“But what is there to discuss?” wondered Taliesin. “Certainly for us it can be no bad thing to have allies as powerful as Avallach… although I wonder what advantage Avallach will gain from an alliance with us?”

Avallach nodded appreciatively. “Your son disarms and challenges with the same words, Elphin. A subtle and useful skill for a king, to be sure. But there it is: what would we gain from an alliance?”

Belyn spoke up. “As Avallach has said, we are strangers in this land, like yourselves. But unlike you, we can never return home. Tairn, Sarras, all Atlantis is destroyed and lies at the bottom of the sea. We have survived to make a life here, but that is more difficult than you might imagine.”

“Surely you are well established here,” remarked Elphin; his gesture included the whole of the magnificent palace.

“It is no boast to tell you that what you see here is but a shadow, a semblance only, mean and contemptible compared to all we left behind. Nevertheless, _jt is no use mourning a world that is past and can never be again. We have no choice but to be reconciled to the world wherein we find ourselves.”

“In our eyes,” replied Elphin, “it appears that you admirably reconciled.”

“And yet,” said Avallach, sadness edging his tone, “all is not as it appears. If we are to have a future here, there must be changes.”

“Yes?”

“We lack certain things,” the Fisher King answered. “To be honest, we lack much that would assure our survival in this harsh land-much that you could provide for us.”

“Of course, we would be disposed to help however we could,” replied Elphin. “But we have nothing of our own, as you are well aware. And certainly nothing you do not already possess.”

“I was not thinking of material goods, King Elphin,” said Avallach.

“What else do we possess that would be useful to your survival?”

“You are a warrior race,” Belyn replied. “You are hardened to battle-war is distasteful to us; and yet it is clear that war is necessary in this world if we are to hold our place in it.”

“Are we to understand that you wish us to fight for you?” asked Elphin incredulously.

“In exchange for land, yes,” answered Avallach.

Hafgan made a sound in his throat like a groan. Elphin’s face hardened. “Keep your land! The Cymry are slaves to no one!”

Prince Maildun, a haughty sneer on his face, stood up. “It seems to me that you have little choice. You need land, we need fighting men. It is that simple. Nothing else about you interests us.”

Elphin flushed red with anger and he opened his mouth in quick reply. But before he could speak Taliesin stepped forward, interposing himself between his father and Avallach. “Allow us to withdraw, King Avallach, so that we may discuss your offer among ourselves.”

“We do not” began Elphin, blazing.

Taliesin spun toward him. “Let us leave at once,” he said softly.

With that Elphin turned and stalked out. Hafgan and Taliesin followed. No one said a word until they had passed through the ^all and reached the courtyard.

“Cuall would have killed him,” said Elphin darkly, as sta-blehands came running across the yard with their horses.

“He spoke in ignorance,” said Taliesin.

“Men have had their throats cut for less.”

“He was genuinely mistaken,” offered Hafgan.

“And if my dagger had been to hand, that son of his would be genuinely dead!”

“Is it your anger talking now,” Taliesin said. “I will not listen.”

The horses stood before them. Elphin grabbed the reins from the nearest hand and mounted. “Are you coming?”

“No,” Taliesin said. “I will remain here a little longer and speak to Avallach, if I can.”

“Be done with him. We are leaving this place.”

“Let me speak to him alone first. It may be that he is already sorry for his error.”

“Very well, talk to him,” snapped Elphin. “And while you are talking, I will make ready to move on. It is clear we are no longer welcome here.”

The horses clattered from the courtyard and Taliesin returned to the hall. He entered the corridor leading to the hall and glimpsed a movement in the shadows beside him. He stopped and called, “Come out, friend, and let us speak face to face.”

A moment later the long, elegant form of Annubi stepped forth. Taliesin had seen Avallach’s advisor before, but only briefly and at a distance. Now that he was near, however, Taliesin was struck by the strangeness of the man: the deathly pallor of his flesh, the slack mouth, the flat, gray eyes and rotten wisps of hair. The seer moved toward him, and the shadows seemed to deepen and move with him so that he was surrounded by darkness.

“A word, lord,” sighed Annubi. He was very close now, and Taliesin caught the scent of rank dissolution as the seer exhaled.

“You are Avallach’s advisor,” said Taliesin.

“I was… once. But no longer.” The seer watched him with his dead eyes. “I lost my sight and so lost my voice.”

Taliesin shifted under that grim, unsettling gaze. “How can I serve you?”

“Leave us,” hissed Annubi. “Your father is right-you are no longer welcome here. Leave and do not return.”

“Why? Why do you want us to leave?”

“Avallach speaks of alliances and futures… Bah! Dreams! Delusions! There is no future for us. We belong to a world that is gone and can never return.”

“Perhaps,” said Taliesin. “Times change, the world changes. It is the way of things. But,” he indicated the palace with a gesture, “you have not done so badly here.”

“What you see around you is an illusion. It is nothing less than nothing!” He gripped Taliesin’s shoulder with a long-fingered hand. “We are the echo of a voice that has died. And soon the echo will cease as well.”

Taliesin reached up to remove the seer’s hand and felt the bones beneath the sallow skin of his wrists. “But it has not ceased. Nor will it as long as there are those who hear.” He continued along the corridor.

Annubi did not follow but shrank back into the shadows. “We are dying,” he moaned, and the darkness of the corridor moaned with him. “Leave and let us die in peace!”

The seneschal ushered Taliesin into the inner chamber once more. Belyn was gone, but Maildun and Avallach were still there. Both men turned as Taliesin entered; Maildun frowned openly, but Avallach forced a smile. “Ah, Taliesin. Will you share wine with us?” He poured a cup and handed it to Taliesin.

“My father has told me of your prowess as a singer,” remarked Maildun. “It is a pity that I will never hear you.” The haughty smirk was back on his face.

“You of all men must understand,” Taliesin said. “My father would be less than a king if he ignored open insults to himself and his people.”

“So an alliance with us is an insult, is it?” demanded Maildun hotly. Avallach’s eyes narrowed.

“You see how easily meanings can be lost?” said Taliesin.

“I understood perfectly!” said Maildun, slamming down his cup.

“Did you?” Taliesin faced him. “Then I was wrong to return here.”

“Wait!” Avallach stepped forward. “I think I understand-or begin to. Stay, Taliesin; we will talk.”

“Why do you persist in talking to these people?” cried Maildun angrily. “Every hand is against us, Father. If we are to survive it will be by the sword. Understand that!”

“Leave us, Maildun,” Avallach said softly. “I will speak to Taliesin.”

The prince again slammed down his cup; wine sloshed onto the stones at his~feet, deep and red as blood. Avallach refilled his own cup and motioned Taliesin to a chair as Mail-dun departed. “My son is an impatient man,” said Avallach. “I was like him once. He wants what he cannot have and has what he does not want. It is difficult.” The Fisher King moved to a chair and settled himself with utmost care. “Sit, Taliesin.”

The bard took the seat drawn up beside him. “Your wound grieves you, Lord Avallach?”

“Alas, yes, it is beginning again,” sighed Avallach. “It comes and goes.”

“A most unusual malady,” sympathized Taliesin.

“Indeed,” agreed Avallach. “And the only cure to avail me is to have the priest Dafyd near.”

“I too have felt the power of the priest-more precisely, the power of the God he serves. Perhaps if you were to swear loyalty to the Supreme Lord, the Christ” began Taliesin, the light leaping up in his eyes.

“Oh, but I have,” said Avallach. “I have so sworn and have received the baptism of water in my own lake. As for me, so for my household. That is the way of our race. Still, the Most High has not deemed it suitable to heal my affliction. Perhaps, as Dafyd suggests, it is to teach me humility. I admit there is much I do not know about this new God.”

Avallach sipped his wine pensively and then looked up, grinning happily. “An odd thing, is it not? Strangers from diiferent worlds, united by belief in the same God. Therefore, let us put misunderstandings behind us.” He threw aside the cup as if it had been the source of the trouble between them.

“Well said, Lord Avallach,” replied Taliesin. “I am certain that you intend no affront with your words. But you should know that your offer, however generously conceived, makes bondslaves of us. For among our race the land Belongs to the king and the king to the land; from ancient timei they are bound together. The clan depends on the just rule of the king to bring harmony and plenty to the land. As the king prospers, so prospers the land.”

“It is much the same with us,” observed Avallach.

“The land is the king’s to serve and protect. He grants it to his people in exchange for loyalty and arms in times of trouble.”

“Thank you for informing me,” he said after a time. “I see now how my words have offended, and I regret that I spoke ignorantly.”

“I hold no rancor for you, Lord Avallach.”

“Tell me then, Taliesin, how I may undo what I have done.”

“It will not be easy,” replied Taliesin.

“Name what I am to do and I will do it.”

“Very well. This is how you will gain back my father’s trust.” Taliesin began to devise a plan which he related to Avallach; and the two agreed.