“In any event,” said Elphin, “it is only right to offer respect to the king whose lands we hope to pass through peacefully.”
Thus, it was agreed to search out this Avallach and pay him a visit. That same night Taliesin took himself off to a secluded grove and, chewing a handful of specially prepared hazelnuts, entered his awen to attempt once more to peer into the future regarding the fortunes of his people.
Closing his eyes, he began to sing softly to himself and in a moment felt the dark headlong rush and the sudden stillness that indicated to him that he had crossed over into the Oth-erworld. Opening his eyes, he saw once again the shadow world that had over time become as familiar to him as the world of men.
He saw the luminous sky like shining bronze and heard the familiar strains of the haunting, ethereal music. He smelled the sweet, heady fragrance of land and saw the mountains in the distance, and though he had explored their slopes many times it was not to the mountains that he turned now. Instead, he found himself gazing on a small stream winding through the trees to empty itself in a forest pool nearby.
Taliesin followed the stream among the glimmering trees to the pool, pushed through the bracken-covered bank to the water’s edge, and wondered if she would still be there-the lady he had seen so long ago. Kneeling down, he peered into the crystalline water, his breath catching in his throat…
The lady was gone. The water still flowed, the green horsetail weed still waved among the smooth, amber-colored stones, but the woman was not there.
He rose slowly and retraced his steps along the stream to the place where the pathways converged. Choosing the one he had followed before, Taliesin started off. As before, he had not gone very far when the strange, glimmering, glistening fog began curling around his legs. In a few moments the fog had risen and deepened so that he could no longer see the path before his feet. He pushed on a short distance and stopped.
Reluctantly Taliesin decided to turn back and discovered that the fog now surrounded him completely. All about him the dense vapor curled and wreathed on unseen channels in the air. Taliesin knew the peril of stumbling through the Oth-erworld blind and dropped to his knees. He crawled a few more paces on his hands and knees before settling down to wait for the fog to clear.
He waited a long time, but the fog did not lift. Instead, the luminous sky-showing through the fog overhead like a roof burning with a dusky flame-began to dim, and the fog grew deeper and more dense. Taliesin had never before been frightened in the Otherworld, but he became frightened now.
He waited, hugging his knees and rocking back and forth as the sky darkened and the Otherworld slipped into one of its rare, interminable nights. To buoy his sinking spirit, Taliesin began to sing, quietly at first, but with increasing volume to keep the fear away by the cunning beauty of his verse.
While he sat there, wrapped in his cloak, singing his most powerful songs, he heard footsteps on the invisible path behind him. He stopped singing. A soft radiance shone through the rolling fog, and he perceived the presence of an Other-world being approaching: an Ancient One.
The being came to stand near him but not near enough to see clearly-it was just a glowing blur through the fog. Taliesin waited, not presuming to address the entity, but allowing it to speak first if it would.
“Well, Shining Brow, here you are once more,” the Ancient One said after a moment. The voice seemed to come from a place high above his head.
Taliesin instantly recognized that he was being addressed by the entity he had encountered on his very first visit to the Otherworld as a boy, years before. “I am here,” he said simply.
“Why have you come this way when you know that it is forbidden?”
“I had hoped to see” he began and faltered.
“You hoped to see,” replied the Ancient One in a lightly mocking tone. “And what have you seen?”
“Nothing, Lord,” replied Taliesin.
“You do well to call me Lord,” said the being. “That shows you have learned something in your years as a man. What else have you learned?”
“I-I have learned to sing in the way of bards,” answered Taliesin. Pride made him bolder. “I have learned the secrets of words; the elements obey my voice. I have learned die ways of wood and glen, of water, air, fire, and earth, and of all living things.”
“You are indeed knowledgeable, O Wise Among Men,” taunted the being gently. “Answer me, then, if you can: why is one night moonlit and another so dark tiiat you cannot see your shield beside you or the spear in your hand?”
Taliesin pondered the question but could not think of a suitable answer.
“Why is a stone so heavy?” inquired the Ancient One. “Why is a thorn so sharp? Tell me if you know: who is better off in death-the fresh-limbed young or the hoar-headed?”
Taliesin remained silent.
“Do you know, or can you even guess, what you are when you are sleeping-a body, a soul, a bright spirit? Where does night await the day? What supports the foundations of the earth in perpetuity? Who put the gold in the ground to make your tore? What remains of a man when his bones are dust?
“Skilled bard, why do you not answer me?”
It seemed to Taliesin as if he no longer remembered how to speak. His mouth would not frame a reply. Ignorance covered him like a cloak and shame made his cheeks burn hotly.
“Have you nothing to say, O Word in Letters?” demanded the being. “No? In that, at least, you show wisdom, Shining Brow. Many prattle idly when they should listen. Are you listening?”
Taliesin nodded.
“Good. I told you that I would teach you what to say… Do you remember?”
Taliesin did remember. He nodded again.
“On the day of your liberation your tongue will be loosed and the words I give you will come. You will be My bard, My herald, proclaiming My reign in the world of men. Men will hear your voice and will know who it is that speaks. They will hear you and believe.
“In the Dark Time your people will look to you, and to the one who comes after you, for light. You will give it to them as I give it to you. Do you understand, Shining Brow?”
Taliesin made no move, so the being said, “Speak, Son of Dust. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“So be it,” said the Ancient One. “Do you know who it is that speaks to you?”
“No, Lord.”
“Look upon me then, Shining Brow. Behold!”
Taliesin raised his eyes and a sudden, sharp breeze began blowing, dispersing the unnatural vapor. He had a last glimpse of the Ancient One through a gray hanging veil of fog, and then the veil melted away and there stood befare him the giant figure of a man-at least twice as tall as any moftalr^naa- wearing a dazzling white robe. Light glinted and shone in dancing rainbows around the man, and Taliesin felt the heat of the being’s presence like a flame that licked his face and hands and burned through his clothing to set his skin ablaze.
The man’s face shone like the sun, burning with a white-hot heat so that it could not be gazed upon, nor its features discerned. The being raised a hand toward Taliesin, the light leapt up, and the Otherworid became a meager shadow, vague and insubstantial.
“Do you know me now, Shining Brow?”
Taliesin sank to his knees and raised his hands in supplication. “You are the Supreme Spirit,” he said, “Lord of the Otherworld.”
“Of all worlds,” corrected the Ancient One, “of this world and the next and the one beyond that. I am the Long Awaited King whose coming was foretold of old, who was, and is, and will be again. I am the Giver of Life, known from before the foundation of the world, by whose hand Heaven and Earth received their form. I am known by many names, but the time is coming and is soon here when all men will call me Lord.”
Taliesin trembled with fear and awe as the Supreme Spirit’s words burned into his soul.
“I am the one you have sought, Taliesin, in the deep, secret places of your heart, I am the light that strives against da
rkness. I am the knowledge, the truth, the life. From this moment you will hold no other gods above me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Lord,” Taliesin said, his voice small and uncertain. “I understand.”
“I have raised you up and set you apart for a special task. Remain in me, Shining Brow, and you shall become a blessing to your people. For through you nations not yet born will come to know me, and my reign will be extended to the ends of the Earth. Do you Believe what I am telling you?”
“Yes, Lord,” Taliesin said. “I have always Believed.”
“Truly said, Shining Brow. Go now, and do not be afraid, for I will be closer to you than your next breath, closer than your heartbeat. Though darkness rises up against you and overwhelms you, I will never leave you. You are mine, Shining Brow, now and evermore.”
Taliesin raised h’-o-Tiead. “If it pleases you, Lord, give me a sign that I may know you.”
“You ask me for a sign, Shining Brow, and I will give it to you. Know me by this!” Taliesin felt the heat of the being’s presence over him and lay quivering with dread and excitement, light blazing all around him, piercing his closed eyelids. There was a touch on the crown of his head, gentle, almost no touch at all; but it was as if a firebrand had taken off the top of his skull, exposing the dark, soft tissues of his brain to the burning brightness of the light.
And his mind was filled with images, a dazzling whirling cycle of scenes: armies marching, shepherds gathering flocks, dark prison cells and noisome sickrooms, bustling cities with roaring marketplaces, quiet villages on lonely hillsides, shining rivers, deep forests, cool mountain heights, hot desert plains, icy cold frontiers, the courts of kings and pallets of beggars, barren flats and fields ripe with grain, merchants engaged in commerce, lovers embracing, mothers bathing children, people talking and fighting and working and building… and much, much more. Men and women of different ages and epochs, different races, different created orders, different worlds, struggling, living, being born and dying.
Taliesin saw all these things, but he saw them through the eyes of the Shining Lord who stood over him, and he had planted within him a tiny seed of understanding, and he realized who it was that he had vowed to follow: “My Lord! My God!” he cried out as the dizzying images spun on and on.
When Hafgan found him in the grove a few hours later, he thought Taliesin was dead. The young man lay on the ground, his limbs still, unmoving. He approached and saw that Taliesin was deeply asleep and could not be awakened. The druid covered him with his cloak and hunkered down to wait.
When Taliesin finally awoke, he could not speak.
Many days later they came to Ynys Witrin. Elphin settled his people Below the Tor and went ahead with Cuall, Hafgan, and Taliesin to determine how they might present themselves to the Fisher King. As they stood looking at the Tor, which was surrounded by lakes and boggy marshland, they met two men in simple garb descending the narrow, winding track from the palace.
Upon seeing the men, Taliesin’s tongue was loosed and he began to shout for joy. “Behold! The servants of my Lord draw near!” he cried. “I must go and greet them.” And he ran to them and fell down before them.
The two men looked at one another in astonishment. “Stand on your feet,” one of the men told him, “for we are men of humble birth. My name is Dafyd, and this is my friend Collen.” He looked at Taliesin’s clothing, saw the golden tore around his neck, and knew he had addressed a Briton lord. “Who are you?”
“Chief bard am I to King Elphin of Gwynedd,” Taliesin replied, his face shining.
“What is your name?” asked Dafyd. “Do we know you?” Elphin and the others arrived, and as they gathered around Taliesin began to exclaim:’
“I was with my Lord in the heavens
When Lucifer fell
into the depths of Hell;
I carried a banner
before Alexander in Egypt;
I call the stars by name
from the North to the South;
I was head architect
Of Nimrod’s tower;
I was in Babylon
in the Tetragrammaton;
I was patriarch
to Elijah and Enoch;
1 was atop the cross
of the merciful Son of God;
I was three times
in the prison of Ananrhod;
I was in the Ark
with Noah and Alpha;
I witnessed the destruction
of Sodom and Gomorrah;
I upheld Moses
through the sea;
I was in the court of Don
before the birth of Gwydion;
And I was with my Lord
in the manger of oxen and asses.
I was moved through the entire universe
by the hand of the Most High;
I received my awen
from Ceridwen’s Caldron;
People call me poet and bard;
henceforth I shall be known as Prophet!
Taliesin I am,
and my name shall remain until doomsday.”
Never had any of them heard such a speech as this. Dafyd raised his hands to Taliesin and said, “How is it that you know the Lord and revere him?”
Taliesin answered, “I have seen him! The Lord has revealed himself to me so that I may worship him and proclaim his name to my people.”
Elphin and Hafgan could understand little of what Taliesin was saying, but they knew they had indeed seen something extraordinary.
Elphin then told Dafyd about the defeat at Caer Dyvi and the wandering of his people. He ended by saying, “We have come here to meet this Fisher King and to see whether he can help us.”
“Then I will gladly take you to him and allow you to prove his generosity for yourselves. I know he will want to see you, for he has recently become a follower of the Christ himself.”
So Elphin and his people were conducted to Avallach’s palace where they were received courteously. And it was there that Taliesin first saw Avallach’s golden-haired daughter, Charis.
CHAPTER FIVE
“Is something wrong?” asked llle. she had come upon Charis as she sat in the orchard among the pink-blossomed apple trees. “I have been watching, and you have not entered the hall or courtyard since the strangers came.”
Charis shrugged nonchalantly. “I have no wish to interfere in my father’s affairs.”
“Avallach’s affairs? He speaks of inviting the aliens to settle on our lands, of joining the destiny of our races, of adapting to their ways, of abandoning all to follow this new god, the Christ-and you say these are affairs for the king alone?”
Lile sniffed and tossed her head. “Does none of this worry you?”
“Should it?” Charis answered absently.
“Talking to you is like talking to a cloud. What is wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. I just want to be alone with my thoughts.”
“I saw the way you looked at him,” said Lile. “It is true he is less repulsive than any of the others, but I cannot Believe you would waste a moment’s thought on him.”
Charis stirred and turned to Lile. “Who?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Why, the singer! You have not heard a word I said.”
“The singer,” said Charis, turning away again.
“We do not know these people. They call themselves kings-where is their kingdom? They come seeking audience with Avallach, but where are their gifts? They expect us to take them seriously and yet they dress in the most bizarre manner; they sleep on the floor and eat with their fingers.”
“Their lands were overrun, I think,” offered Charis.
“So they say. Avallach is altogether too gullible. Let that bright-eyed weasel Dafyd whisper a word in his ear and he gives away half his holdings!”
“Did you hear him?” asked Charis unexpectedly.
“Dafyd?”
“The singer,” said Charis with exasperation. “So simple, so pure…”
“With that out-of-time lyre?”
“So beautiful.”
“And that gibberish speech of theirs. Call it a song? It sounded like a wounded beast yowling to be put out of its misery.” Lile tossed her head contemptuously. “Perhaps you have been sitting in the sun too long.”
The day was bright and hot; the sun poured itself out upon the land and the heat haze shimmered on the horizon. Lile rose and took a nearby bough in her hand, examining the exquisite flowers, each of which would in its season bear a fine, golden apple. She noticed one shriveled bloom and, frowning, plucked it and threw it aside. “Are you certain there is nothing wrong?”
“I feel like riding.”
“You should lie down. The sun is too hot for you.”
“I do not feel like lying down. I feel like riding.” With that, Charis rose and hurried from the orchard, leaving Lile staring after her, shaking her head and muttering.
Charis spent the afternoon riding among the hills, visiting the secret places she had neglected since the pilgrim priests arrived. She wound her way through greenwood tracks and hill trails, beside noisy brooks and silent meres. And as she rode, she thought about the unexpected turn her life had taken.
With the coming of all these strangers-first Dafyd and Collen, and now the Cymry-she felt as if a plan or a design had been set in motion and was now working itself out. She was part of it, although she could not see how. But she sensed the strings of the thing tightening around her like the silken threads of a tatter’s web being looped and knotted into place.
The pattern, however, was not complete enough to be discerned.
Still, she felt certain that her life of restless melancholy was at an end. Something new was happening. There was a ferment around her, perhaps within her as well, in the very atmosphere itself-there to be tasted with every breath. Certainly it was a fact that she had never been so encircled by gods and men-not even as a dancer in the bullring. She could hardly turn around for stepping on one or the other of them.
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