'Your work?' I moved one of the pieces, not caring which one, or where.
Charis countered the move. 'You will be Ganieda's responsibility from now on, my Hawk.'
'You make it sound as if I were going away across the sea. I am only moving into the chambers across the courtyard.'
'To me it will be as if you have travelled to the end of the earth,' she said solemnly. 'From the day you are married, you and Ganieda are one. You will give all of yourself to her, and she to you. You will be a world together and that is as it should be. I will have no place in it.'
I knew what she was saying, but I made light of it. I did not like to think that something that would bring me such happiness would cause someone I loved such pain. I wanted everyone to share my joy, and so Charis did, but her joy was bittersweet and could be no other way.
A little later, when we bade each other good night, she hugged me more tightly, and held me more closely. It was the first of many small farewells for us that helped ease the greater.
The day did finally come when I rode out for Goddeu myself, taking a score of warriors for company. We did not fear attack on the road, but the enemy was becoming more bold with each passing season. Also, we had heard of a hard winter north of the Wall; this would send the hungry Picti and Scotti out on the war trail all the sooner.
Riding with twenty of my best was only prudent, and it would serve to set an edge to winter-dulled skills. But aside from the usual spring-swollen rivers and mountain passes that had not yet thawed, the journey proved unremarkable. Indeed, it seemed to me as if I had travelled the Goddeu road so often that I remembered every rock and bush and ford along the way.
Nor did we lack for travelling companions. For, despite the rumours of raiders of one sort or another, there were many others on the road as well. More than normal for early spring. It was as if men knew that the days of free-ranging trade over longer distances were drawing to a close and were anxious to do what they could before the end came.
Yet, there was an air of exuberance, of carefree comradeship – although that might have been my own mood colouring things for me. Oh, but it was a fine journey.
And the day I rode into King Custennin's lakeside stronghold, my heart swelled to bursting. It was a glorious day, all sun bright and adazzle with lights off the lake. Cleanswept the sky, deep and azure blue; the woodland flowers full and sweet on the gentle air; the trees absolutely piping with birdsong – it was a grand day. Every man should have such a wedding day.
Although the actual ceremony was yet some time away, the day I rode into Goddeu and saw Ganieda standing before the door of the king's great hall – dressed in a cream-white mantle fringed with golden tassels and worked in emerald green thread, with white wildflowers plaited in her black hair – that day, that instant, my soul was married to Ganieda's.
We were so happy!
I do not remember catching her up to sit before me in the saddle, although they say I did – coming at her on the run and leaning low to sweep her away with me in a wild and joyous ride. I only remember her arms around my neck and her lips on mine as we galloped along the sparkling lakeshore, the horse's hooves striking up showers of diamonds for us.
'How did you know I would come today?' I asked, when we dismounted at last outside Custennin's palace.
'I did not know, my lord,' Ganieda answered with mock solemnity.
'Yet you were ready and waiting.'
'As I have been ready and waiting each day since the first flowers bloomed.' She laughed that I should marvel at that. 'I would not have my love find me otherwise.'
'I love you, Ganieda,' I said. 'With all the heart and soul in me, I love you. And I have missed you.'
'Let us never part again,' she said.
Just then I was hailed from the doorway, and Gwendolau appeared. 'Myrddin Wylt! Is that you? But for the wolfskin on your back I would not know you, man. Unhand my sister and let me look at you.'
'Gwendolau, my brother!' We gripped arms in the old greeting and he beat me happily about the shoulders with his hands.
'You have changed, Myrddin. Look at how you have filled out. And what is this?' He raised a hand to my tore. 'Gold? I thought gold was the sole right of kings.'
'It is and well you know it,' said Ganieda. I smiled to hear the possessive note in her voice. 'Does he not look every inch a king?'
'A thousand pardons, lady,' he laughed. 'I need not ask how it has gone with you, for I see you have weathered well.'
'And you, Gwendolau.' The year had wrought its change in him as well. He appeared more like Custennin than ever, a veritable giant among men. 'It is good to see you.'
'Allow me to see to your men and their horses,' he said. 'You and Ganieda have much to discuss, I should guess. We will talk later.' And, with a happy slap of my back, he walked off at once.
'Come,' Ganieda tugged on my hand, 'let us walk awhile.'
'Yes, but first I must pay my respects to the lord of this place.'
That you can do later. He is hunting today and will not return until dusk.'
So we walked, and our path led us into the woods where we found a leafy bower and sat down on the sun warmed grass. I held Ganieda in my arms and we kissed, and if I could have stopped the world from turning, I know I would have. Just feeling the sweet, yielding weight of her in my arms was earth and sky to me.
Great Light, I cannot bear it!
FOUR
No… no, listen Wolf, my mind is calm. I will continue:
Custennin was well disposed to the match. Gwendolau must have given his father a good report of my kinsmen and lineage. Indeed, he could have done nothing else. The joining of our houses would be to affirm honourable and long-established ties, something both Avallach and Maelwys were anxious to do as well.
The south needed the north, and needed it strong. The attacks that year-by-year drove deeper into the heartland invariably originated in the north; Picti, Scotti, Attacoti, Cruithne: these were all northern tribes. And the Saecsen and Irish, who were becoming bolder and more belligerent with each passing season, when they came, they came across the sea and into Ynys Prydein from the unguarded north.
But the incessant raiding was driving the few stable and trustworthy Britons north of the Wall back into the south – those that, like Elphin and his people, had not already left long ago. So it was becoming more and more difficult to hold the middle ground between the war-lusting north and the civilized south.
Without strong northern allies the south became more vulnerable than ever. Rome had realized this from the beginning, of course. The Eagles built the Wall – more a symbolic demarcation than an actual defence, although it was that, as long as the garrisons were manned. But the true defence of the south had been, had always been, the strength of the northern kings.
This strength was faltering. It is no wonder that the southern Britons had begun to look fearfully to the north as both the cause of their troubles and their salvation. It was to the benefit of both to form strong alliances, and there is no stronger tie than blood.
Kinship would do what the administrative might of Rome could not. Or we would all go down together.
As king, this was to be my work. I saw, perhaps more clearly than others, the desperate need for accord between kingdoms. The few and feeble attempts at friendship between the north and south, good though they were, were not enough. If we were to survive we would have to find and welcome ways of encouraging the northern kingdoms, and supporting them. This would mean putting away the petty concerns of rank and wealth, the small rivalries of small men, for the greater good of all. On this the future depended. On this we would stand or fall.
I began thinking of one great kingdom made up of all the smaller kingdoms, united, yet each independent of the others, and all contributing to the general welfare and security. Not an empire, nor a state: a nation of tribes and peoples, ruled by a Council of Kings, each lord with an equal say. This was important, for, if we were to survive the barbarian onslaught, i
t would have to be as a single united entity presenting one, unassailable front, not the fractious scattering of divided kingdoms – which is what we were.
I began dreaming of this great kingdom made up of smaller kingdoms. This great kingdom would be ruled by a single great king, a paramount king, or chief king – one elected from among the Council of Kings to rule over all. A High King whom the lower kings, princes, lords and noblemen would serve.
You might say, as others have said, that this was foolishness, or at best the idle whimsy of a self-important young ass. Better, they said, to stand tall and demand our rights as citizens of the greatest empire the world has ever known.
'Petition Rome!' they cried. 'We are citizens. Protection is our right, is it not? Send to the Emperor with petitions. Bring the legions back, tell him. Now that Maximus wears the purple, he will listen. He will not let us be burned and bled by savages.'
But Maximus did not long wear his imperial robe and laurel circlet. When he marched on Rome, as I knew he would – rather, as old Pendaran Gleddyvrudd had predicted – Theo-dosius, son of Theodosius the Conqueror, captured him and marched him into the Senate in chains. A few days later, Magnus Maximus was beheaded in the Colosseum. And it was not only the man that died that day: the dream of empire was extinguished in the blood-soaked sand before those jaded, jeering crowds.
Bring the Eagles back!
Yes, bring the Eagles back. Bring them all back, for all the good it will do. Is everyone blind? Can no one see?
Never did we shelter beneath the Eagle's wings. We were the Eagle. When the first Romans had laid their roads and forts across the countryside and then turned aside to other, more pressing matters elsewhere, who took up the standard? Who buckled on the breastplates? Who took up the gladius and pike? Whose sons filled the garrison rosters all those years? Who took Roman names and paid tax in Roman coins? Who raised the cities and built the great villa farms?, Was it Rome?
Oh, by all means bring the Eagles back. I would have them see how well the Briton wields the tools he has been given. For that is what we have always done. Rome left long, long ago, but we did not know it. Instead, we flattered ourselves, and were likewise flattered to be sure, that we were favoured children of Mother Rome.
Foster children, maybe. I will not say bastard children, for once Rome did look kindly on us, and from time to time sent her agents to help us look after our affairs – for a price, always for a price. Our wonderful Mother was always more interested in the corn and beef and wool and tin and lead and silver that we produced and paid to her in tax and tribute, than she was interested in our welfare.
Yet that was in the best of times, my friends. What do you suppose she thinks of us now – if she thinks of us at all?
The truth is a bitter draught, but drain the cup and we will find our strength in it. We are not weak; we are not bereft of hope. Our hope is where it always was: in our own hearts, and in the strong steel in our hands.
Yes, I began seeing the vision of a free people ruling themselves without let or hindrance from distant emperors whose hearts had grown cold; a nation of Britons ruling Britons for the good of all who sheltered in this fair land, high and low alike…
It was Taliesin's vision: the Kingdom of Summer.
FIVE
The heavenly star-host wheels through the sky, the seasons spin away in the slow dance of years. I squat on my rock and the rags of my clothes flap around me. Summer sun bakes and blisters, winter wind slices flesh from bone, spring rain soaks to the soul, autumn mists chill the heart.
Yet, Merlin endures. Destiny waits while Merlin squats on his rock above dark Celyddon. Forest Lord… Cernunnos' Son… Wild Man of the Wood… Myrddin Wylt… Merlin… he of the Strong Enchantment, who walked with kings, the very same, who now grubs among rotting apples for his food – and the future must wait.
How is that, Wolf? The kingmaking? Have I not? Then I will tell you.
Dafyd came to Maridunum the day of the victory feast, and he performed a rite of consecration for me as part of my kingmaking. With Maelwys and Charis, and several of the chiefs who had been summoned by news of the raid, Dafyd and I rode to the chapel, where, crowded together in the sweet silence round the altar, we all knelt and prayed for God's blessing on my reign.
Dafyd then anointed me with holy oil, touching my forehead in the sign of the cross; and he anointed my sword as well, saying, 'Behind this wall of steel shall Our Lord's church flourish.'
We all said 'Amen' to that. He blessed me from the holy text, then kissed me with a holy kiss, and I him, whereupon each of the others in the room knelt and stretched forth their hands to cover my feet as sign of their submission to me. All except Maelwys, of course, but he embraced me like a father.
In this way was I made King of Dyfed.
I began my reign in the usual way, I suppose: I shared wine with the men who would follow me. I distributed gifts among them and accepted their pledges of fealty. There was singing – Blaise came with four of the Learned Brotherhood, who gave us such song as is reserved for, well, for a king's ears alone – and the feasting continued for three more days.
Between the time Blaise had handed me my kingship – I still think of it as his doing; but what of that?; the druids of old were kingmakers and it was their right – and the time of my crowning, he had vanished. Only to reappear again with a golden tore. Pendaran had said he would give me his tore and also the throne he had occupied for nearly fifty years. But as he was still somewhat active in the affairs of the realm, that hardly seemed right. Since there had never been a time when three kings ruled in Dyfed at once, Maelwys ordered a new tore to be made instead.
Blaise must have guessed that this would be the case, and he swept into the hall bearing the tore in his hands, as if it were the kingship itself that he held. At his appearance the hall fell silent. Men stared at the object he held. Had they never seen that ring of gold before?
I admit, his entrances and exits could be arresting, but I saw nothing unusual about his bearing a tore to me. Perhaps it was because I saw it in the hand of a friend, while others saw it in the hand of the bard, and the more significant for that. However it was, he caused quite a stir.
He bade me kneel before him while he stood over me with the tore, as if with a talisman of power. In the eyes of the Cymry, I suppose it was a charmed thing. The church had power, most would allow, but so did the images and rites of old, which had the additional benefit of being hallowed by long tradition. It was all well and good to be anointed by the priest in the chapel in the wood. Better still to receive the tore of kingship from the hand of a druid.
Well, I had both.
'Is this necessary?' I hissed under my breath. The hall had fallen silent; every eye was on me. 'I've already been consecrated.'
'Is it killing you?' he whispered as he bent the soft yellow metal in his hands, spreading the ends to fit around my neck. 'Just be quiet and let me do this.'
He held the tore before me, and I saw that it had two bears' heads carved at the ends; their eyes were tiny sapphires, and each wore a collar of equally small rubies. I stared in astonishment. Where on earth did he get it?
'Did you steal it?' I whispered to him as he placed the tore around my neck.
'Yes,' he said. 'Now be quiet.'
He gently pushed the two ends of the tore together and, lifting his hands to my head, made the kingship speech in the old tongue. It is doubtful anyone in the hall, or even in all of Dyfed, knew the old Briton language any more – the Dark Tongue, men called it, from before Rome came. Nevertheless, they appreciated the significance of it just then.
Blaise, Jesu bless him, was trying his best to help me with all he had. He was showing the people gathered there that in the new king all past and future were brought together. He was reminding them of the old ways, in the same way Dafyd had shown the way of the future.
But the old ways are evil ways – I have heard that said by more ignorant clerics than bears thinking about. Convenient, pe
rhaps, to a priesthood neither knowledgeable nor tolerant of things belonging to another priesthood and another time. Much in elder days was evil, I admit; I am not like one of those pig-headed fools who stare into the embers of a dying fire and think to see the kindling of tomorrow's flame. But neither do I deny the good where I find it.
And there was some good, I assure you. In every age, there is some good. God is ever present, ever eager to be found if men will look. I know I searched.
Blaise understood this, too. He wanted me to enjoy the dual blessings of past and future, thinking that the people would follow me more readily. He too believed in the Kingdom of Summer.
Unlike me, however, he thought the people would need to be coaxed towards it. I believed I had only to throw the doors open wide and all would rush in gladly. But then, I was very young.
Blaise, of course, knew better – which is why he went round telling all those stories about me. 'What men believe, Hawk,' he told me once, 'that is what they follow. Their hearts are willing – all men want to believe. Very few can follow a dream, even a true and beautiful dream. But they will follow a man with a dream. So,' he smiled deviously, 'I am giving them a man.'
When he put the bear's head tore on my neck, I tell you I felt a king. It was without doubt a king's tore and, wherever he had found it, I knew a king had worn it. Perhaps many kings. Indeed, it was a thing of power.
The tore, Wolf, I wear it still. See? Ganieda liked it, too. Yes, she did.
After that Maelwys and I began making plans for repairing the hillforts – not that they were in poor repair. But none of them were supplied any more, nor stocked with grain and water; a few lacked strong gates, and most had gaps in the walls, and mud-choked wells. The people were using thorn bushes or briar hedges to close them – which worked well enough to keep cattle from wandering, but would be no defence at all against Saecsen or Irish spears. No one actually lived in the hillforts any more, had not for a long, long time. But Maelwys foresaw the day when fully stocked and gated forts would be required.
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