[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]flow of his words and he touches her arm. The Lady of the Lake quickens at his touch; she comes to
herself once more - as if suddenly starting from a dream - sees her son, and smiles, her hand rising to her
face. Myrddin, ever alert, turns to see what has so shattered his mother's composure. But there is now
nothing to see; Morgaws and her escort have disappeared in the crowd. Myrddin takes his mother by the
arm and walks with her to their places at table with Arthur and Gwenhwyvar.
I settled in next to Bedwyr, and noticed his dark brow furrowed in serious rumination. Thinking to lighten
his sombre mood, I said, 'It seems friend Llenlleawg has become champion to the mysterious Morgaws. I
wonder if Arthur kens this shift of loyalty.'
'Never have I seen a man wear a more haunted look. He is sick with it, our Llenlleawg. I fear what may
become of him.'
'Well, no doubt he will recover. Love seldom proves fatal - so I am told.'
Bedwyr gave a mirthless, scornful chuckle.
'What? Has something happened while I was away?'
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'Ah,' he replied, his smile as bitter as his tone, 'Arthur's shrine races to its completion, and we are all
deliriously happy, of course.'
One of the serving boys appeared just then and placed cups before us. Bedwyr raised his cup to me and
took a deep draught.
'And yet?' I prodded, nudging him with an elbow.
'Yet,' Bedwyr continued, 'the Pendragon communes with God and the angels, and the concerns of
earthly mortals are not to be mentioned.' Bedwyr's rueful smile turned sour. 'In short, our king stands with
his head in the clouds and his feet on the dung heap. The odour, he imagines, is meadow-sweet, but it
smells like manure to me.'
'You surprise me, brother. If anyone can bring the Summer Kingdom to fruition, it is Arthur. It could
happen just as he says.'
Bedwyr drank again, put aside his cup, and said, 'Do not mind me, Gwalchavad, I am only mourning the
past. Or maybe I am jealous - she is a beautiful young woman, is she not?' He laughed, forcing himself to
rise above his melancholy, yet there was a bitter edge to his voice when he said, 'Two days, my friend -
two days and all doubts and suspicions shall be swept away. In two days the shrine is consecrated and
the Grail is established, and the Kingdom of Summer begins. I am certain all will be well.'
Despite his dubious assurance, Bedwyr's conviction appeared as shaky as my own, but after my
harrowing visit to the plague camp, I had tried to believe the miracle could take place. What if, as
Myrddin had said, the Swift Sure Hand was on Arthur to bring about the restoring of this worlds-realm?
Who could oppose God?
TWENTY
Dreams of spitting cats and hissing snakes kept me thrashing on my pallet all night. I heard strange
laughter, and awoke to the sound of someone calling my name. The warriors' quarters were quiet,
however, and, as the sun was rising on a new day, I thought to banish the night's malignant cast with a
cold plunge in the lake.
I crept from the palace and made my way quickly down the twisting path. The mist rising off the lake as
the dawnlight struck the surface of the water made it seem as if I descended from the pure heavenly
heights to the cloud-bound earth below. At the lakeside, I stripped off my clothes and waded out from
the shore - some little distance, for, owing to the drought, the level of the water was much lower now.
Gathering courage, I dove in and swam quickly to the centre of the lake before I lost my nerve. The
water was clear and stinging cold, but not as cold as it should have been for the season. Here the Christ
Mass was upon us, and winter winds should be howling from the frozen north; yet, save for a few chill
evenings, the days, though short, remained warm as midsummer, and dry. The warmth nobody
complained of, but the lack of rain scoured the land to dust.
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Ever since I was old enough to walk from my father's caer down to the water's edge, I have loved
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