Agravain returned from the feast, more than half drunk and bad-tempered. It had been a difficult day for him, as well. After a while, Bedwyr and the two others, Rhuawn and Gereint, also returned.
"I have spoken to Arthur," Bedwyr told me quietly. "He says that he does not think we can risk accepting you, not at such a time as this, and mentioned his distrust of the Queen Morgawse your mother, who by your own testimony is plotting against him. But more than this he will not say. I do not understand it: usually he is willing to give anyone at all a chance to prove himself."
"Gwalchmai must be a sorcerer, then," said Rhuawn, a lean, long-faced man.
"Be quiet," said Agravain harshly. "I have said that he is not." I recognized the signs: my brother wanted to fight someone. Apparently Rhuawn recognized them as well, for he was quiet.
Finally Cei returned, quite drunk, but controlling it well. "Hah!" he exclaimed when he saw me. "Still here, are you?" He was very pleased, with himself and with his judgement. "I"d"ve thought you"d"ve gone running from here like a whipped dog by now. Or a whipped hawk?" He snorted with laughter. "But hurt hawks don"t run, do they? Don"t even fly. They just...sit. And brood. And glare. As you are. Hah!"
"Hush," said Bedwyr. "You have no cause for that."
"That practice of sorcery is cause enough for cursing," said Cei. "And I think our lord judged well!"
Bedwyr shook his head. He came over to me and said, "I am sorry, Gwalchmai. Understand, it is not Arthur"s usual way, this decision. And this is Cei"s way only when he is drunk."
"I"m not so drunk as all that," said Cei. He sneered again. "Well, Hawk of May, where are your spells?"
I realized that I, too, would not mind fighting someone and having some release for my anger. It was absurd, and I realized the absurdity, but still...
"Let him alone," snarled Agravain.
"Why?"
"Because I"ll challenge you if you don"t," replied Agravain quickly. He would, and would enjoy it, though I thought that Cei was not too drunk to fight.
Cei blinked at him, then shrugged and fell silent. However, a few minutes later, noticing Caledvwlch leaning against the wall where I had set it, he went over and picked it up, holding the loop of the baldric and swinging it back and forth, whistling between his teeth.
"Stop!" I called, abruptly ending my fit of brooding.
"What? You don"t want me touching your precious magic sword?"
"Put it down," I said. "It is not for you."
"Are you still trying to say that it is..."
"It is. My story is true, even if Arthur disbelieves it."
"Liar," said Cei.
Agravain stood, clenching his fists.
I could not let my brother fight my battles for me, however much he wished to. "Stop," I said again, also standing. "Cei, put my sword down before you come to some harm."
He laughed, eagerly. "So, at last you are willing to defend yourself! Laus Deo! Do you want your magic sword? I will show you how magic it is..."
"No!" I shouted, seeing what he planned. But he had already closed his hand about the hilt and begun to draw the sword.
The dormant fire leapt, once, like summer lightning or a falling star. Cei screamed and dropped the sword, stumbled back against the wall. I was across the room to catch the weapon as he dropped it; I closed my own hand about the hilt and, without thinking, drew it. The fire blazed, pure, cool, and brilliant.
"Are you hurt?" I asked Cei. He stared, opening and closing his mouth, quite sober now. "I said, are you hurt?"
He looked at his hand. It appeared slightly burned, as though by the sun, but otherwise uninjured. "No," he whispered. "G.o.d. G.o.d."
"By all the saints," muttered Rhuawn.
I looked at my sword, then sheathed it. "It is well," I told them all. "This sword is a powerful thing, and I think that, had you drawn it, it might have killed you. Let it alone now."
"I will," said Cei. "G.o.d. I...I wish to sleep, now."
No one said anything as we settled down for the night: I, on Agravain"s insistence, on his bed, and he on the floor.
I held Caledvwlch beside me in the darkness. The power was real, real enough to burn Cei when he touched it, real enough to have killed him. The Light was real-my lord, how could I doubt it? And the Light had led me here, and I had come, with high hopes I only fully recognized now that they were gone, and the miracle, somehow, still, had failed, and my soul ached with darkness.
I closed my eyes and ran my fingers over the sword hilt, feeling the cool smoothness of interlaced metal on the grip and the hardness of the single jewel. Simple steel and lifeless stone, yet they could fire with an unearthly light, and burn the hand that ventured to touch them. So could I, all doubts and uncertainties swept away in that white fire that three times now had burned within my mind. And yet, why should such things have happened to me? The Light needed neither men nor swords. Nothing that I did could matter. I had been delivered from the Darkness, and that ought to be enough for me.
I rolled over on the bed and looked up at the thatching of the roof, letting the sword lie on the floor where my hand could easily reach it. It is not as bad as all that, I told myself. This will not kill you. You have only to seek service elsewhere, and there is doubtless much else you can do.
Why a sword? I asked myself again. Why not a harp or a brooch or a ring, as in some tales? If I am not to be a warrior, why an instrument of war? And if I am not to serve Arthur, why be a warrior? No other king has set out to fight the Darkness...
The Darkness. My mind touched it at last, and I remembered Morgawse, as clearly as if she stood there in the room, and the things I had learned from her worked in me like yeast. Morgawse"s eyes found mine behind my closed lids, and she smiled and smiled. I turned my mind from the thought. Eventually, I slept.
I dreamt that night, the only such dream I have ever had.
In my dream I rose from the bed and opened the door of the house to look out at Camlann. I saw all of it at once, with the walls finished, glowing in a golden light, splendid and strong. Arthur was before the gates, sitting upon a white horse, and he held a torch in his hand, the source of the light which filled the fortress. A man I did not know held the horse"s bridle, a dark-haired man on whose forehead blazed a star, and his eyes were filled with infinite knowledge. Arthur lifted his torch, and the light of it sprang across all the west of Britain. I saw the whole island, from the Orcades in the north to the southern cliffs, the forests, fields, mountains and rivers and proud cities, lying like a child"s drawing in the sea. But the east and north was covered with a profound shadow. I saw Aldwulf standing in the north, a black flame burning above his scarred face, and Cerdic in the south, lifting his arm to command an attack, though with an odd expression of puzzlement on his face. No armies answered his command, but a great white dragon, the symbol of kingship, rose into the sky on cloud-like wings. In the west, Arthur"s dragon standard twisted, became a true dragon, and rose to meet the other. Yet I did not watch the combat, for a shadow fell across Arthur and he dwindled to nothing. I looked up and saw Her, ruling in the north and east, Queen of Air and Darkness, Lady of Shadows. Beautiful she was in the flesh, but in the dream the flesh was gone, like a dimming veil, and she blazed in dark splendor across the universe. My heart came into my throat, and my terrible love for her returned. I wanted to fling myself before her feet and beg her forgiveness, but I reached for my sword. It was not there. She smiled, and my strength vanished, so that I could think of nothing but her.
"So, my falcon," she said, in her infinitely soft, deep voice, "the Dragon does not want you? It is most foolish of him, for you are a great warrior."
I was filled with joy at this, and wanted to run to her and...but I forced myself to hold back. "Arthur is free," I answered. "He may do as he wills."
"Of course," she whispered, "though he obeyed me once. But your new Lord permits you also to do as you will." She leant forward from her throne of shadows, her eyes drinking me, like wine. I remembered, with night-edged clarity, a word she had taught me to fend off spirits. I whispered it, and some of my strength returned.
She smiled, a very sweet, dark, secret smile meant for me alone. "My clever falcon! Yes. You see why I wished to kill you? It can be used against me and for Arthur, to establish the High King"s power in Britain."
I tore my eyes from her and looked back to the island I stood on. Arthur seemed very small after the Queen, and his power only fragmentary. I felt a touch of pity for him. I saw the battle lines forming, saw myself ride up on Ceincaled, lift my hand, and speak a word of command. Cerdic clutched his throat and fell to the earth, and Aldwulf died, amazed. The Saxons were swept by plague and famine, storms destroyed their ships, and Arthur conquered all Britain. He reigned in Camlann, and I stood beside him, his most trusted counsellor, honored by all. My father came from the Orcades with words of admiration and praise, and chose me to be the heir of his kingship. The Light ruled in Britain.
I looked again at the Queen, and met her eyes fully. She smiled for a third time, and those eyes were full of promises. "Ah, my hawk of spring," she whispered. "You were always my favorite, and now that you are older...you are a strong enemy, more powerful than Arthur, and a greater sorcerer than that fool Aldwulf."
I felt deep pride and a searing black joy that she should say so. More than ever I longed to approach her. I could make Arthur accept me! I could use what she had taught me for the Light, instead of the Darkness. Then I thought of what she had taught, and remembered the look in Connall"s eyes when he knew that she would kill him, and the black lamb struggling under my hands while she looked for the future in its entrails, and I felt sick again, and thought of how Medraut was lost. But I needn"t use the worst, I told myself.
"Where is Medraut?" I demanded of the Queen.
"That is of no consequence."
"He is your son."
"I have plans for him that are no concern of yours, my falcon. He hates you, my hawk, because you left and betrayed us."
He would hate me. I could see how she must be working on him, slowly destroying him. "And you hate me also," I whispered.
She shook her head slowly, and the black fire in her eyes was only the edge of a vast sea. "You are too powerful, Hawk of May, and too beautiful."
Dizziness swept over me, and I reached once more for my sword. Her eyes were everything in the universe, they were death itself. I could be powerful, and if I were her equal, remained her equal, she would...
"No!" I screamed and flung my arm between us. She stood, terrible in her power, and smiled a final time.
"Ah, but what else can you do, my son?"
What? The Darkness was about me and within me, and I could not even find a sword with which to fight it. I fell back, thinking of Arthur, of Bedwyr, of Cei, Agravain, and then of Sion. Spinning on itself, my mind found the instant at Ynys Witrin, in the silence of the chapel, and abruptly the universe turned about again, and I saw the sun instead of the shadow. My vaguely groping hand found what it sought for: my sword. I drew it and held it between myself and the Darkness.
"I will fight for Arthur," I said, my voice steady. "He cannot forbid me to follow him, even unaccepted. I will fight for him until he sees plainly that I do not fight for you. However long it takes, and however difficult it may be, this I can be, and this I will."
Her lies were gone and her plan again defeated. She lifted her arms and the Darkness leapt. But she was distant again, and I stood at Camlann. I looked up and saw Lugh standing in the west, opposite Morgawse, holding his arm above the island so that the Queen could not touch it. Behind him was light too brilliant, too glorious to be seen. For a moment I saw these two confronting one another, and then my field of vision narrowed. I saw the island and the figures of armies. I saw the Family and myself in it. The armies began to move, and the sounds of battle arose. I realized that I saw things that were yet to come, and was terrified. I covered my face with my arms and cried, "No more!"
And abruptly there was silence.
Sobbing for breath I opened my eyes and saw the thatch of Agravain"s house above me. Everyone was asleep. I lay still for a long while.
Twelve.
After a long time there came a bird-call from outside, then another. Beyond the door it was morning. I sat up and buried my face in my hands, shivering. Then I rose, dressed, picked my way across the room, and opened the door.
The dew was heavy on the gra.s.s, and the earth smelled damp and sweet. The first wings of dawn were opening above the plain, over the black bulk of the hills. The bird-song ran back and forth, like water over stones. I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, watching the sun come up from the east. It was full day before I moved again, and when I did it was to sing, a famous song, one sung over all the West, which Padraig made when he went into Erin.
"I arise today, Through the power of Heaven, In these forces seven: Light of the blazing sun, Radiance of the moon, Splendor of the new flame"s run, Sweetness of the wind"s tune, Deepness of the boundless sea, The hard earth"s stability, Stone fixed eternally; I arise today, Through G.o.d"s strength to pilot me...
Through the power most mighty, Invoking the Trinity, Confession of one, belief in three, The Creator of Creation!"
I laughed then, though I did not really understand the song, and I offered my sword to the morning light. "I thank you, my lord!" I said aloud, then added, "And you also, for your protection, kinsman. But do not send me any more such dreams!"
I sheathed Caledvwlch and wondered if there was anything left over from the previous night"s feast. I was very hungry, for I had eaten nothing since the morning before, and had been through a great deal since then. I was considering how to find some food when I heard noises within the house. I went back inside to find that Agravain was awake.
"There you are!" he exclaimed when he saw me. He looked even more tired than he had the evening before. "How long have you been up?"
"Only a little while. I went outside to watch the sun rise."
"You would." He snorted and studied me, then grinned. "By the sun, it is good to have a kinsman here. But you cannot go about dressed like that. A king"s son cannot wear the clothes of a Saxon thrall. You"ve left a mark on Aldwulf; that ought to ent.i.tle you to a decent cloak at the least, even if you are not in the Family. Come, we will go to the storerooms and find some gear for you."
He pulled his own clothing on and we went up the hill, past the feast Hall to the storerooms on the west side of the hill. Agravain was trying very hard not to disturb me by referring to Arthur"s decision or what might happen next, but instead pointed out the sights of Camlann. But I could tell that he was thinking hard.
The storerooms were a sprawling group of buildings, low-roofed and dark, and mostly newly built to store the High King"s plunder. They were clear testimony of Arthur"s success as a war-leader, for they were filled with piles of clothing, with weapons and jewelry, imported pottery, dishes of gold, silver, horn, and gla.s.s as well as wood, bronze, and earthenware. There was not much food there, but there is not much to be had by raiding in the spring. All the goods had been taken from the Saxons, either on their own lands or returning plunder-laden from British kingdoms. Agravain told me that it would mostly be sold to whomever could pay for it with grain or other foodstuffs. "The High King prefers grain, though," he went on, "for the horses. The Family"s war-horses devour up the harvest of a kingdom, I think. Still, I have helped to win this, so I can help to dispose of it. Choose what you will. I will give you a horse, as well." He hesitated, then finally met my eyes and asked his question: "Where will you go?"
I was uncertain how to phrase it. "I will not go," I said at last, simply. "I will follow the Pendragon Arthur on my own until he does accept me. He must see, eventually, that I am not a sorcerer and that I am a warrior worth my mead."
Agravain stared at me for a long moment, then grinned fiercely. "That is a warrior"s decision, a decision worth a song! Indeed, show them all that they are wrong, and teach them not to slander you!" Then he stopped, frowning. "But it will be difficult. Arthur is a n.o.ble king, and will not refuse hospitality to you, but Cei is your enemy now. You frightened him last night, and made him look a fool, and he won"t stand for that. Moreover, he is the infantry commander, and has a Latin t.i.tle of his own for it, and is a man to be wary of offending-though he is brave, and honest, and a good friend."
"I must try it, whether or not Cei is my enemy. It is all I can do."
Agravain was much happier as we chose some new, more "appropriate" clothing from the heaps. When I had a good woollen tunic and leggings, my brother searched through another pile of goods to find a leather jerkin with some metal plates which he had won a month and a half before and which he thought would fit me. It did, and he pressed it on me, saying that it was his to give. Such armor is not as good as chain mail, but chain mail is rare and valuable. Agravain had only one mail-coat, which he would have given to me, except that it did not fit.
Besides the jerkin I found a shield, white-washed wood with a steel rim, plain, but good solid work; and a long, leaf-headed thrusting spear with a nice balance, as well as five throwing spears.
"Now you need only a cloak," Agravain said with satisfaction. "What kind..."
"A red one," said a strange voice behind us.
"Taliesin," said Agravain, greeting the man who stood in the door, watching us with mild interest. "Why a red one?"
I stared at Arthur"s chief bard, speechless. The other memory I had a.s.sociated with that name came abruptly clear: he had sung in Lugh"s Hall, in the Islands of the Blessed. And it was he who had held the bridle of Arthur"s horse in my dream, and spoken to Sion in his.
But he was not wearing a star on his forehead now, and his face was human, without that disquieting radiance the faces of the Sidhe have-though he remained a very handsome man. His name, "Radiant Brow," which is given to the morning star, was not wasted on him.
"I know you," I said.
But he shook his head. "No, you have never seen me before, though you may have heard some of my songs. There are plenty of them about."
"What are you talking about?" asked Agravain.
"Your brother thought we had met before," Taliesin stated pleasantly, sauntering into the room. "And I corrected him. I never had the pleasure-your brother is a remarkable man, Agravain."
"He is not a sorcerer," snapped Agravain quickly.
Taliesin grinned. "You are too suspicious, my friend. I never said he was. Welcome to Camlann, Hawk of May."
I was certain that I was not mistaken. "But what..." I began.
"I am sorry," he said quickly, "I cannot answer your questions, not now. You would not understand the answers. You are thinking of a dream which you had last night, and a dream a friend of yours had, and of what Bedwyr told you about me. But I cannot explain. There is something to all of them-but you know that already. The answer would be less interesting than the mystery, however, and I prefer things to be interesting. Also, unfortunately, you must discover truth for yourself. Someone tells you something: do you listen? Indeed not; you run off your own way, and in the end, knocked flat on your back (as Bedwyr was when first I met him) you say to yourself, "Taliesin was right!" But I am tired of being told the obvious fact that I was right."
Agravain laughed. "Oh, indeed? I wish I could understand your songs well enough to tell you that you are wrong."
"But I do not intend that they should be understood!" Taliesin protested. He hummed a s.n.a.t.c.h of music, broke off. "We poets have that privilege...A red cloak is the best. There is one in the middle of that pile there, a very fine one."
I remembered Sion"s dream, "A man in a red cloak lying dead," and I felt as though I stood on the edge of some precipice in darkness, feeling the presence of the gulf I could not see. Taliesin stopped smiling.
"I am not ill-wishing you, Hawk of May," he said gently. His expression was unreadable. "It is only that what must be, will be. Your color is red, like the dragon of Britain, or like the blood that lies upon the battlefields, and will lie there, when the night comes. When the shield-wall is broken and the gate of the strong-hold battered down." He shook his head. "The Empire now may be compared to a tapestry, woven in many colors, by many choices; your color is red." He stopped suddenly, blinking, then recovered himself and smiled again. "Besides, red will suit you. That pile over there-and now I must find Arthur and explain to him why the walls have not progressed as far as he had expected. Vale!" He swept out of the room, letting the door swing shut behind him.
"By the sun," said Agravain. "What did that mean?"
"I was just about to ask you. Agravain, who is Taliesin?"
"Arthur"s chief poet, one of his advisers, and occasionally a cavalryman under Bedwyr."