Arthur

After they had spoken for a time, the Emrys turned to the shrine and held his hand to it. The two Hill Folk glanced at one another and nodded. 'You can come out, Aneirin,' he called. 'They will allow you to see them.'

I stepped slowly from the doorway of the rotunda and proceeded down the steps. It was only when I came to stand beside the Emrys that I realized our visitors were not children, but mature men. Men full-grown, yet they were smaller than me!

They stood regarding me with bright curiosity, and I them. They wore short, sleeveless tunics made of leather and birds' wings. Their trousers were soft sheepskin; their boots were the same. They carried small wooden bows, and each had a quiver of short arrows at his belt. They wore necklaces of tiny yellow shells, and each had a thick ring of gold around his arm. Tiny blue slashes, three over each cheek – their fhain marks – distinguished them as Salmon Fhain. Their hair and eyes were deep and black as polished jet; their skins were brown and creased as their tunics.

The Emrys spoke a word to them and I heard my name, whereupon the two smiled. The foremost one thumped himself on the chest and said, 'Rei.' He repeated this until I said it, whereupon the second one presented himself, saying, 'Vranat.'

I said my name for them and they repeated it, only they said, 'Nee-rin,' and laughed as if this was a most splendid jest. Then they grew suddenly serious and began speaking to the Emrys once more, earnestly, one after the other with some urgency. This entreaty lasted only a moment. Myrddin made some answer to them and they departed, each kissing the Emrys' hand before turning and racing away. They were gone in an instant.

'There,' said Myrddin Emrys, 'now you have seen the Hill Folk. Is there any doubt?'

I knew what he was saying. 'None,' I replied. 'Even in the dark I would know the difference – the one I saw was not like these at all.'

The Emrys turned and began walking down the hill to the sea. I followed and we walked together a goodly while. It was cooler near the water, and the smell of seaweed and salt filled my nostrils. The sound of the waves washing back and forth over the sand soothed my troubled spirit. 'What are we going to do?' I asked.

'We will do what is required of us.'

'Will we know what that is?'

'All is given in its season. All that is needful is granted. We have but to ask, and if our hearts are hi the asking it will be granted.'

'Always?'

'You are full of questions, boy,' the Wise Emrys chuckled. 'No, not always. We serve at the Gifting God's pleasure. In him we move and have our being; in him we live both here and in the world to come. If anything is withheld from us it is for the reason of a greater good to come.'

'Always?'

This time the Emrys became adamant. 'Oh aye! Always. Goodness is ever good, and the All-Wise God is a good god. From him goodness itself derives its meaning.'

'So, even if evil overtakes us, it is still for the greater good,' I said, trying to understand this philosophy.

The Emrys accepted my foolish answer, but corrected it gently. 'That is one way to say it, but perhaps not the best way. To see evil and call it good, mocks God. Worse, it makes goodness meaningless. A word without meaning is an abomination, for when the word passes beyond understanding the very thing the word stands for passes out of the world and cannot be recalled.

'This is a great and subtle truth, Aneirin. Think on it.'

I d'd, but could make no headway. 'But,' I said, returning to the former discussion, 'if the Holy God is good and yet evil overtakes me, what am I to say?'

'Only say, "Evil has overtaken me." God did not wish it, but being God he can use even that which is evil and meant for evil and turn it to good end. It is his labour in the world, and ours, to raise up the fallen and to turn the evil into good.' He raised a hand to his face. 'Even my blindness was turned to good in the end.'

This surprised me. 'Because your sight was restored?'

'No,' he replied. 'Because it was not.'

Now I was confused. The Emrys saw me struggling with this and said, 'It is because you do not believe that you do not understand.'

'But I want to understand.'

Then hear me: God is good; his gifts are granted each in its own season, and according to his purpose. I endured blindness that I might discern the subtle ways of darkness, and treasure light the more. When I learned this truth, it pleased God to restore my sight – which he did in time.'

I knew that all this had something to do with Morgian, but I could not think how. The Emrys talked like a priest instructing his flock. I knew the words he spoke to be true, but the truths they revealed were too deep for me then. That, or else I was a vessel too shallow. I cannot say which.

That night, when we ate our meal before the fire, Myrddin Emrys told me of his time with the Hill Folk – how he had become separated from his people, lost, and found by the bhean sidhe of Hawk Fhain; how he had almost been sacrificed; how he had learned their ways, and the lore of their Gern-y-fhain, the clan's Wise Woman.

As he told me of his life, I began to understand the meaning of his words: so much is passing away. It was clear to me that the world I knew was much changed from the one he described – and was still changing rapidly in almost every way.

Behold! The Summer Realm blooms and the old world must make way. Peace! So be it!

We left the shrine a few days later and returned to Caer Lial. The Pendragon's court was busy with the affairs of Britain now that the High King was in residence. A steady stream of lords and landholders passed through the Pendragon's hall and chambers.

Priests and holy men came before him with petitions of need. The High King established churches, founded holy orders, and granted land to monasteries. Queen Gwenhwyvar aided this work with zeal. With her own resources and out of her own wealth she planted seeds of righteousness and nurtured good works of every kind. She was formidable in virtue, and fierce in piety. She was dauntless in love. No less a warrior than Arthur, she battled wickedness and ignorance, never granting quarter.

I watched all, heard all, and remembered all – hiding it away in my memory like treasure, as it seemed right to do. I talked long with Bedwyr, who became my friend. Bedwyr had the soul of a bard and the memory of a druid. Often we began to talk of an evening and rose to find dawn's ruby rays stealing into the hall.

Cai and I also became friends, and he aided me as he could. But Cai's unquestioning loyalty made it difficult to discover what actually happened in the battles. 'Well,' he would say, 'Arthur is Arthur, yes? He is the Bear. No one like him in battle – who can stand against him?' This would suffice for an enure campaign!

Two more councils were held at the Round Table shrine that year: one at the autumnal equinox, and the other at the winter solstice, just before the Christ Mass. I did not attend the former of these, but at the latter I served my customary function in caring for the horses.

I spent three cold, wet days at a crackling fire below the rotunda hill with the wild wind blowing snow off the sea. When the others emerged from the council at last, I was near frozen. They came out singing into the winter squall, their voices loud and joyous. I knew something important had taken place. I spared no time finding out.

'What is the cause of this singing, Wise Emrys?' I asked, running to him.