Arthur

'There is a boat,' he told Arthur. 'Get into it and pole yourself across the lake to the island. There you will meet a woman. Heed her well. She will give you the sword.'

Arthur said nothing; there was no need. His face shone with all the hope and glory of the rising sun. He walked calmly to the reeds and stepped into the boat – which I recognized as Avallach's fishing-boat. Taking up the pole, Arthur pushed away from the bank. The reeds rasped and rustled as he passed, and then he was gliding out onto the dark water.

Merlin sensed the questions whirling inside me. 'Charis will meet him and give him the sword,' he told me. 'She is waiting for him in the grove.'

'Why?' I asked, for I found this elaborate diversion most confusing. Why not simply ride to the Tor and give Arthur the sword outright. 'It is just a sword, is it not?'

'Not to Arthur,' Merlin replied, watching the Duke raise and lower the dripping pole. 'It will be his life from this day forth, until the Island is rid of the Saecsen.'

He turned to me. 'Besides, it is a good sword. There is not another like it in all the world.'

'Whose sword is it?'

'Arthur's.'

'But -'

'It is the one Charis had made for Avallach. I wore it for a time, you will remember. But it was never mine. It was, I think, made for Arthur. He alone will truly possess it.'

I looked across the lake and saw that Arthur had reached the island. He jumped from the boat, and walked up the slope to the grove. The trees all stood bare, their leafless branches dark under a thin coating of snow.

In a moment, I saw Charis step lightly from among the trees. He saw her and stopped. She raised her right hand in greeting, and I saw that she clasped the naked blade in the left. Then she lifted the sword and placed it across her palms and offered it to him.

Arthur approached, his face solemn, his tread purposeful and slow. Charis offered the sword, but the Duke did not take it. He knelt before her and raised his hands. She spoke to him and then placed the sword across his upraised palms.

Then did Arthur rise, lofting the sword. New sunlight dazzled along its tapered length in a keen flash of gold. He waved the blade in the air, and an expression of awe slowly transformed his features.

'Come,' said Merlin, turning again to the horses. 'We will join them now.'

We rode back to the causeway, crossed it, and turned towards the grove, leading Arthur's horse behind us. Charis greeted her son with a kiss, and me as well.

'Have you seen it, Myrddin?' cried Arthur, holding the sword reverently, his face alight with the singular beauty of the weapon. For indeed it was a thing of dire beauty: long and slender, cold, deadly. Two crested serpents, their red-gold bodies entwined, jewelled eyes winking, formed the hilt. Forged long ago of an art far surpassing any now known, it was, as Merlin said, the weapon of a dream, made for the hand of a god.

'Oh, yes,' replied Merlin, touching the blade with his finger-tips, 'I have seen it once or twice. What will you call it?' He did not say that he himself had once worn it.

'Call it?'

'A weapon like this must have a name.'

'Has it a name, my lady?' Arthur asked Charis.

'No name that I know,' she replied.

'The Lady of the Lake has told me that the blade is made of steel far stronger than any in Britain,' said Arthur.

'Call it Caliburnus,' suggested Merlin.

Arthur's brow wrinkled. 'Latin – meaning?'

'Caledvwlch, the Cymry would say.'

'Cut Steel!' declared Arthur, lofting the weapon once more. 'Very well, as I am a Roman Celt, I will call it Caledvwlch.'

Arthur was well pleased with his new weapon. He lightly held the sword in his hands and fingered the strange markings on the blade near the hilt. 'These figures,' he said, turning once more to Charis, 'I cannot read them. What do they mean?'

'It is Atlantean script,' she explained. 'It says here, Take Me Up," she turned the blade over, 'and here: Cast Me Aside:

Arthur frowned over this. 'I will never cast it aside,' he vowed and, raising his eyes to hers, said, 'I am in your debt, my lady. Whatever you ask of me, if it is in my power, I will do.'

Charis smiled. 'The sword is a gift – obtained for one king and given to another. I ask nothing in return.'

'Yet,' Arthur replied, letting his glance slide once more along the flawless length of the sword, 'I would deem it an honour to repay you in any way I can.'

'Come,' said Merlin, placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder. 'Let us go into the hall and break fast. Have you forgotten what day it is? It is the day of the Christ Mass. Let us begin the celebration at once.'

With that, we began threading our way up the narrow track to the Fisher King's palace. Arthur gazed out, as the landscape fell away below, watching the radiant fingers of sunlight sweep the hills and hollows round about. By the time he stepped through the great arched gates and into the palace yard, he was firmly captured by the natural enchantment of the place.

We did not wait to be greeted, but hurried in to the hall to warm ourselves. Avallach was there, and upon seeing us he came forth to greet us with glad welcome on his lips. His hand, however, was pressed to his side, as it always was when his wound distressed him.

'God be good to you!' he called, his voice a low thunder in the hall. 'Merlin! Pelleas! How often I have thought of you these last days and longed for your company. Come, sit by the hearth. Have you travelled far?'

'Merlin came to us last night, but you were in your chambers and we did not like to disturb you,' Charis explained, Unking her arm through her son's.

'Grandfather,' said Merlin, holding his hand out to Arthur, 'I present to you Arthur ap Aurelius, Duke of Britain.'

King Avallach looked long on the young duke, holding him in his gaze that became at once sharp and formidable. Arthur endured this scrutiny with good grace; he did not flinch, nor did he counter it by growing haughty, as I have seen men do. Arthur stood square-shouldered, head erect, eyes level, motionless, letting the other make of him what he would.

In all the years I had known him, I had never seen Avallach react this way with anyone – certainly not with a guest in his house. Charis opened her mouth to intercede, but Merlin urgently pressed her hand and she subsided.

His appraisal finished, the Fisher King raised his palm shoulder high, saying, 'Hail, Arthur, Duke of the Britons, I greet you. Long have we awaited your coming.' Avallach then stepped forward and enwrapped Arthur in a great embrace. A simple enough gesture, but more than that somehow.

Merlin looked on, with narrowed eyes. The significance of this act stirred him, and his senses quickened. He was, I knew, seeing far more in Avallach's welcoming embrace than Charis or I.

'It is the union of forces, Pelleas,' Merlin explained later. 'Do you not see it? Do you know what this means?' Before I could protest that I did not understand, he rushed on. 'It is true! All that we have hoped for Arthur, all that we have worked for – the years, Pelleas, the years we have worked! – it is coming to fruition! Arthur is the Summer Lord! His reign will establish the Kingdom of Summer.'

'Because Avallach greeted him?'

'Because Avallach recognized him.'

'But we have always known it would begin with Arthur.'

Merlin raised a forefinger. 'We have always hoped Arthur would be the Summer Lord. There is a difference.'

I still did not see how Avallach's greeting changed anything, or why Merlin thought that it did. But I believe that Avallach had grown increasingly sympathetic to the subtle promptings and presences of the spirit. Over the years he had grown in wisdom and holiness – through his discipline of prayer and meditations on the holy writings Bishop Elfodd brought him – so perhaps he saw something in Arthur that moved him.