Arthur

We left Caer Kadarn as soon as a litter could be prepared for Merlin. The tide was flowing when we reached the port; the ship was manned and ready. We boarded as soon as the horses were safely picketed, whereupon Ban delivered his orders to the boatmen. But a few moments later, I felt the ship surge away from the quay and turned to call farewell to Lord Ban.

'Whatever happens,' he replied, 'we will come to you in the spring. Also the supplies you have asked for will be sent as soon as the harvest is gathered in. I will not forget my promise of aid!'

In truth, I had forgotten all about Arthur and our reason for coming to Benowyc in the first place.

All that can be said of the sea -journey is that it was mercifully short. Favourable winds carried us swiftly over the sea and into Mor Hafren. We made landfall late in the third day, along the Briw river, having sailed inland as far as the river would allow. From there we rode, following the river directly to the lake surrounding King Avallach's Isle.

We came upon the Tor at dawn, glowing red-gold in the new day's misty light. We had ridden through the night, stopping neither for food nor sleep. The horses were near exhaustion, as I was myself.

'We are home, Master,' I said to the body lying deathly still on the litter beside me. 'Help is at hand.'

I started along the lakeshore and struck the causeway joining the Tor to Shrine Hill and the lands beyond, leading Ban's steward and Merlin. We crossed the causeway, and then began slowly climbing the winding track to the summit – all the while keeping my eyes on the palace lest, like Morgian's enchanted dwelling, it should vanish in the mist.

The Fisher King's palace is a strange and wonderful place. It somewhat resembles my father's palace in Llyonesse, but Avallach's realm is the sun to Belyn's black night. Surrounded by its lakes and salt marshes, with groves of apple trees rising on its lower slopes, Ynys Avallach is a true island – a landlocked island, yes, but cut off from the main as completely as any seabound crag.

Out of necessity, the Fair Folk adapted the open, light-filled structures of their lost homeland to the bleaker clime of Ynys Prydein. But they still sought the noble, uplifting line, and the illusion of light – much needed hi this often melancholy corner of the world.

Fair Folk… Faery: the adopted name of the orphan remnant of Atlantis' lost children who settled here. Fair we are, by comparison; for we are taller, stronger, and more agile than the Britons; by nature more comely, possessing higher gifts. Also, our lives are measured differently.

Little wonder that we are often looked upon as very gods by the easily mystified inhabitants of this island realm. The simple people esteem us unnecessarily, the backward revere us without cause, and the superstitious worship us.

It is folly, of course – the more to be believed, apparently. We are a separate race; that is all. And a dying one.

I know full well that I am the last of my line. There shall be no more after me. As God wills, so be it. I am content.

Merlin is different, though. How different is not easy to tell. He is fully as much a mystery, in his own way, as his father.

I never knew Taliesin. But I have talked with those who did know him – including Charis, who shared his life however briefly. 'In truth,' she told me once, Taliesin is more a wonder to me now than ever – and it deepens with each passing year.

'You ask me who he was, and I tell you plainly: I do not know.' She shook her head slowly, gazing into that vivid past where she and Taliesin still walked together as one. 'We were happy, that is all I know. He opened my heart to love, and hence to God, and my gratitude, like my love for him, will endure for ever.'

Seeing the Tor at first light brought these things to mind, and in my fatigue I wrapped myself in reverie as I made my slow way up the twisting path to the Tor.

It was early yet, and the gates were still closed. So I roused the gatesman, who hugged me like a brother and then ran to the palace, calling at the top of his voice. Telleas has come home! Pelleas is here!'

Weary to the bone, I had not the strength to call after him. It was all I could do to stand upright in the empty yard.

'Pelleas, welcome!' I knew Avallach's voice when I heard it, and raised my eyes to see the Fisher King advancing towards me. He saw Merlin stretched upon the litter and his greeting died with the smile on his lips. 'Is he…?'

I had no time to answer. 'Pelleas!' Charis appeared, dressed hi her night clothes, and hurried barefoot across the yard, hope and terror mingling in her expression. She glanced behind me to where Ban's steward waited, head bent as if in sorrow. 'What has happened? Oh, Pelleas, does he live?'

'He lives,' I assured her, my voice the croak of a crow. 'But he sleeps the sleep of death."

'What do you mean?' Her green eyes searched my face for comfort, but there was none to be found.

'I cannot rouse him,' I told her. 'It was… ' How could I say the words? 'It is sorcery."

Charis' long experience treating the sick and dying served her well. She turned to the gatesman lingering near and said, 'Go to the abbey and bring the abbot at once.' Her voice was calm, but I sensed the urgency as if she had shouted.

Avallach bent over Merlin's body. 'Help me, we must get him inside.' Together Ban's steward and Avallach raised Merlin from the litter; the Fisher King gathered him up and carried him into the hall.

Dizzy with exhaustion, I swayed on my feet. Charis put her arms around me to support me. 'Oh, Pelleas… I am sorry, I did not – '

'There is no need, my lady – ' I began, but she did not hear.

'You are weary. Come, let me help you.'

'I can walk.' I took a step and the ground seemed to shift under my feet. But for Charis I would have collapsed in the yard. Somehow we reached the hall and crossed it to the chamber prepared for me.

'Rest you now, Pelleas,' Charis told me, placing a coverlet over me. 'You have done your part; I will care for my son now.'

It was late when I awakened. The sky was golden in the west as the sun slipped down to touch the hill-line. Desperately hungry, I rose, washed myself, then made my way back to the hall. Charis was waiting for me, her head bowed, praying. A tray of meat, bread and cheese, lay next to her on the board. Cups stood nearby, and a jar of beer.

She rose and came to me when she saw me, smiled, and said, 'You look more like the Pelleas I remember. Are you hungry?'

'Famished,' I admitted. 'But I can wait a little. Is there any change?'

She shook her head slowly. 'There is not. I have been considering what to do – I have spent the day with my books, seeking a remedy. But… ' She let the words go unsaid. 'You must break your fast now,' she instructed, guiding me to the board and seating me, 'and regain your strength.'

'We will bring him back,' I said boldly, more from encouragement than confidence.

Charis put her hands on my shoulders, leaned near and kissed me on the cheek. 'You serve him well, Pelleas. More than a servant, you are his truest friend. He is fortunate; any man would be blessed to have such a companion. I am glad he has chosen you to go with him.' She seated herself beside me and poured drink into the cups.

'My lady, I chose him.' I reminded her. 'And I will never forsake him.' I glanced out of one of the high windows. The light was fading outside. Was it fading for Merlin as well?

I ate nearly all that was before me. How many days had it been since I had eaten? I more than made up for it, I think. Satisfied at last, I pushed the tray away and took up the cup.

'The man with you,' Charis said when I had finished, 'he told Avallach he was from Armorica, a realm called Benowyc. Is that where Merlin was… was stricken?'