Arthur

'They all look like Pelleas!' observed Gwalcmai, in hushed exclamation. 'Are all the Faery so made?'

'Why do you think they are called Fair Folk?' I asked him. Still, it was no less a marvel to me. While we had grown used to Pelleas and knew the truth, seeing others of that race made me want to believe all the idle and ignorant tales told about them.

'Look at that one!' Gwalcmai all but shrieked, as we entered the hall. He was beside himself with excitement. But then, he was from the Orcades.

'Stop pointing! That is the Fisher King,' I hissed. 'Is it the stables you are wanting for your bed?'

King Avallach advanced, dressed all in scarlet satin with a wide belt of silver plates like fish scales, the dark curls of his hair and beard oiled and glistening. His handsome face wore a smile of welcome and his arms opened wide to receive us. Though he could not have known who we were, I felt the quick warmth of his joy.

'God be good to you,' said Avallach, in a voice that came from somewhere deep in his broad chest as from inside a hollow hill. 'Rest and be welcome, friends.'

'Hail, King Avallach, I give you good greeting!' I said, touching the back of my hand to my head in salute.

'Do you know me?' the Fisher King asked.

'We have never met, Lord Avallach. I know you in name and appearance only. Myrddin Emrys has told me of you.' At my mention of Myrddin, the king nodded. 'I come to you in the name of Arthur, Duke of Britain.'

'Yes, yes,' replied Avallach. 'You are friends of Arthur's?'

'I am Bedwyr ap Bleddyn of Rheged, and – '

'So at last I meet the renowned Bedwyr!' roared the great king in his delight. 'God's blessing on you, Bedwyr ap Bleddyn. Arthur has told me much about his sword-brother.'

'This is Gwalcmai ap Lot of Orcady,' I said, indicating the dumbstruck northerner beside me.

At this the Fisher King stiffened and his gaze narrowed; he regarded Gwalcmai as if he were a new kind of serpent, whose fangs had yet to be tried for poison. I wondered at this and then remembered what Myrddin had told me: Morgian, Queen of Air and Darkness, was Gwalcmai's grandmother. His kin!

Stupid! I groaned inwardly and kicked myself for the fool I was. Why, oh why, had I not realized this before now? I could not have chosen a worse companion for this journey!

'Welcome, Gwalcmai ap Lot,' intoned Avallach tersely.

I do not think Gwalcmai noticed his cool reception. I do not think he noticed anything at all – except the entrancing beauty of the woman approaching from across the hall. She had entered from behind Avallach and walked towards us purposefully.

I know that I have never seen a woman more fair in face and form. I know that I never shall see another the equal of the Lady of the Lake – for it was she. I knew her, as I had known Avallach, from Myrddin's descriptions. Oh, but his words did not tell the tenth part of her elegance and grace.

Her hair was long and golden, like sunlight falling on a spring-flowered lea. Her skin was white as the snowcrest on a bending bough, or rarest alabaster; and her lips were red as the petals of winter roses against the milky whiteness of her skin. She looked upon us with eyes the colour of forest pools, and just as calm. The delicate arch of her brows spoke of nobility and pride.

She wore a long tunic of sea-green silk, worked in the most wonderfully ornate filigree of red-gold, and over this a sleeveless mantle of russet, embroidered in gleaming silver. At her throat she wore a slender tore of braided gold, such as a Cymry queen would wear. But she was a queen, of course, or once had been.

'Truly, she is a goddess!' Gwalcmai croaked in a stricken whisper.

'She is Myrddin's mother, mind,' I told him, finding it difficult to credit the truth of it myself.

Charis came to me and kissed me on the cheek in greeting. 'May the peace of Christ be yours, Bedwyr,' she said, in a voice soft and low.

'You know me, lady?' I gasped, astonished that she should utter my name.

My features must have trumpeted my amazement, for the lady laughed nicely and said, 'How should I not?'

'But I have never been here before this moment,' I stammered.

'Not in the flesh, no,' Charis agreed. 'But you were the unseen spirit at Arthur's shoulder when he sojourned here last winter.'

'He spoke of me?'

'Oh, he spoke of you to be sure,' replied Avallach. 'If he spoke about nothing else, he waxed vocal of his brother Bedwyr.'

'That is how I knew you,' Charis said. 'And it is the same way you knew me – from my son, no doubt.' She turned her eyes to Gwalcmai, who stood entranced beside me.

'I present to you Gwalcmai ap Lot, of Orcady,' I said, nudging him in the ribs with my elbow. But it was no use, he gawked at her as if he were dull-witted and mute.

At the mention of his name, a change came over Charis – although I noticed no outward alteration of expression or demeanour. Yet I felt something flow out from her as a sudden rush of warmth directed at Gwalcmai. Looking him steadily in the eye, she placed a fair hand on either of his shoulders, put her face close to his and kissed him on both cheeks.

'May the peace of Christ be yours, Gwalcmai,' she said.

'And with you also, my lady,' he whispered, his cheeks blushing red as foxglove.

'You are welcome here,' she told him solemnly; then brightened at once and declared, 'Come, this is a pleasant end to a good day. We will sup together and you will tell me how my son has fared in the wider world since last I saw him.'

By this I knew that neither Myrddin nor Pelleas had stopped at the Glass Isle, and that our search must quickly continue.

We were conducted to a smaller chamber off the hall, where a long board had been set up with chairs around it. There was red wine in a crystal jar and cups of silver beside it. The wine was poured and we drank, and began to describe all that had happened since Myrddin and Arthur had visited Ynys Avallach last winter. And there was much to tell.

Gwalcmai picked at his food with his knife. Had he been a bird I know he would have eaten more heartily. But he sat limply in his chair and gazed at the Lady of the Lake, with such a rapt and insipid expression I wonder that she neither flew from his sight, nor shamed him with scornful laughter.

I was mightily grateful that I was not a maid that must endure his bland and sickly glances. But then, the lady Charis was twice the lady I would have been!

Despite Gwalcmai's bad manners, the evening passed agreeably – indeed, it seemed as if it fled like the too-brief melody of a nightingale. We slept that night on beds of finest linen over fresh-cut rushes, and I awoke the next morning thinking that no man ever slept better or more comfortably.

But awake I did, and when we had broken fast I uttered my regrets that we must continue our journey that very day. As I did not wish to alarm Charis – how could I live with myself if I caused that fairest lady pain! – I told her nothing of our search for Myrddin, but merely affirmed that we were about the Duke's business and must press on with all haste.

We made awkward farewells and soon were winding our way down the side of the Tor and across the causeway as the new day's light pearled the eastern horizon. 'Myrddin has not been here,' I told my companion. 'I feared as much.'

Gwalcmai started, as one awakening from a dream. He peered back over his shoulder at the looming Tor. 'Have you any idea where he would go?'

'To Llyonesse,' I answered, for the dread in my heart was growing and I remembered where and when I first had felt it: that day on the shore when Myrddin told me about Morgian.

I began to sense that where Morgian was to be found, that is where I would find Myrddin. Pelleas had guessed it too, and that is why he had been so anxious about Myrddin, and so eager to go after him.

'Where is this place Myrddin has gone – this Llyonesse?' wondered Gwalcmai.