Arthur

'Yet I wonder if there might be some greater benefit to be won by marching to the defence of Rome. If, by doing so, we could extend the peace we have enjoyed to the rest of the world, even now suffering the vengeance of barbarians, would this not be a worthy thing? Further, would it not be accounted sin to us to ignore this plea for help, when we could so easily give it?

'I am an old man and no longer need the acclaim of others to think well of myself. But neither do I enjoy a private peace when others suffer injustice that I could prevent.'

At these words the council roared its approval. Who could disagree with such sane logic, they cried. This is surely what must be done. It is not for ourselves that we save Rome, they said, but for those who suffer the barbarians' oppression.

When all had spoken and order was once more regained, the High King stood slowly. 'Thank you, my brothers,' he said, 'for giving me your sound advice. I will withdraw now to consider which way I will go.'

Arthur turned and left the chamber and the lords returned to the feast – all except Bedwyr, Cai, the Emrys and myself, who followed him to his private chamber.

'I cannot believe you would even for a moment consider going to Rome,' Bedwyr said, wasting no time. 'You are power mad if you think to honour Lucius' letter with action.'

'Speak your mind, Bedwyr,' replied Arthur with a grin. 'Unbind your tongue and do not hold back.'

'I mean it, Bear,' said Bedwyr icily, 'nothing good can come of it. No Briton who marched to Rome ever returned. Macsen Wledig went to Rome and they beheaded him. Constantine became emperor and they poisoned him. It is a snake-pit. Stay far away from there.'

Cai disagreed. 'How can he call himself emperor if he abandons the Seat of the Empire to barbarians? Go to Rome, I say, free it, and carry the throne back to Britain. Then it will be saved for all time.'

I did not know what to think. Both arguments appealed to me. It was true that Britons who entertained dreams of empire tended to die upon reaching Rome. Equally true, it seemed to me, that to allow the heathen to defy justice tainted the peace we had laboured so long to achieve.

So it was that we, with Arthur, looked at last to the Wise Emrys. 'Why do you stare at me?' the Emrys said. 'You have already made up your minds. Go and do what you have decided to do.'

'But I have not decided,' objected Arthur. 'God knows I am adrift here.'

The Emrys gave his head a shake. 'Nothing I say will change the heart within you, Arthur. I marvel that you have not already given the order to sail."

'What have I done to deserve this abuse?' asked Arthur in a wounded voice. Tell me and I will make it right.'

'I tell you this. If you uphold the council of men like Cador and Ban, then you deserve the abuse that comes to you!'

'But I do not uphold their council. I am asking for yours.'

'Then hear me well, for when I have finished I will speak no more about it.'

'As you will,' replied Arthur, sitting down in his chair.

'Listen then, O King, to the Soul of Wisdom!' The Emrys, in the manner of the druid bards of old, pulled his cloak tightly around him and stood before the king, head erect, eyes closed, voice raised in declamation. 'Through all things I have laboured, to this end only: that the Kingdom of Summer might be born in this worlds-realm. In you, Arthur Wledig, this has been accomplished. You are the Champion of Light that was foretold of old; you are the Bright Promise of Britain, you are the Chief Dragon of the Island of the Mighty, you are the Favoured One of God, who has so richly blessed you.

'Hear me, Arthur: Rome is dying – may even now be dead. We cannot revive it, nor is it right to do so. The old must pass away to make room for the new. That is the way of things. In the Kingdom of Summer, a new order has come to pass. It must not become allied to the old order, or it will surely perish.

'Do not allow the faded glory of the empire to dazzle your eyes, nor the words of men inflame your sense of honour. Be the Emperor of the West, if you like, but establish a new empire here, in Britain. Let the rest of the world look to the Island of the Mighty as once we looked to Rome.

'Be first in compassion! Be first in freedom! But let that freedom and compassion begin here. Let Britain shine like a beacon blaze into the dark corners of the world. Rome is a corpse, Arthur, let the barbarian hosts bury it. Let Roman justice fail; let the justice of God prevail. Let Britain become foremost in doing God's work in the world. Let Britain become the Seat of the New Empire of Light!'

So saying, the Emrys raised his cloak over his head and hooded himself. And he would speak no more.

Three days passed. Arthur kept his counsel to himself and held vigil in his chamber until the matter which so obsessed him could be resolved. In the end, he summoned his lords to council once more and delivered his decision.

'Long have I thought on this and weighed the various arguments in my mind. I have decided that it will be no bad thing to go to Rome, to do what may be done to relieve the suffering of the people there, and to receive the laurel wreath from their hands. When I have set Rome in my hand, I will return to Britain and rule the New Empire from the Island of the Mighty.

Therefore, I order to be assembled the ships of my fleet and the ships of any who would sail with me, so that we may make all haste to Rome and end the barbarian oppression there. For I am persuaded that when injustice is allowed to reign unchecked, then no man is truly free.'

The High King's plan was greeted with wild enthusiasm by the assembly, especially among the younger men. But I noticed that Arthur kept his eyes upon his supporters while he spoke. Never once did he glance at the Emrys.

Immediately after, in his chambers, Bedwyr made bold to challenge die Pendragon to his face. Because they were closer than brothers, Arthur listened. This is insane, Artos. A more crack-brained idea you have never had. Defy me, if you will. But do not defy the Emrys.'

'I am not defying anyone,' maintained Arthur. 'Besides, what is so wrong with wanting to liberate the Mother Church from the persecution of the heathen?'

'Do not speak to me of churches, Bear. We both know why you are going. What if you get yourself killed over there, like Macsen Wledig? '

'It is only one campaign.'

'Is it? In any event, if the Seat of the Empire needs saving let Emperor Lucius save it! Did he offer to help? We will all grow grey-headed waiting for that! He expects you to do all the work. Just you see if you receive so much as a hot meal from him when you are finished. Somehow, I do not see him extending his hands in friendship to you.'

'You are so suspicious, brother,' laughed Arthur.

'And you are so stubborn.'

'We make a fine pair, do we not?'

Bedwyr Would not be appeased with light words. 'Hear me, Artorius! Do not go to Rome.' He folded his arms across his chest. 'I cannot say it more plainly than that.'

The Pendragon remained silent for a long moment. 'Does that mean you will not go with me?"

'Saints and angels!' sighed Bedwyr. 'Of course I will go with you. How else will I prevent you from foolishly getting your head carried off by a barbarian war axe?' Bedwyr paused, and added, 'But that brings to mind another matter: who will hold the realm while you are gone?'

'I have already thought of that,' replied Arthur happily. 'Gwenhwyvar is a reigning queen in her own right. She will rule in my place while I am gone.'

'Very well,' agreed Bedwyr. 'That is the first truly sensible choice you have made today. At least she will not be tempted to rush off saving any failing empires.'