Merlin

The wash of the sea around the roots of the headland and the cry of the soaring gulls carried an inexpressible sadness to me. I put my arm round Ygerna and we sat together in the sun, listening to the gulls and the waves, feeling the comfort of two hearts grieving.

The sun went behind a cloud and the day turned suddenly cool. 'Where has he been buried?' I asked as we rose and made our way back inside.

She did not answer at once. When she spoke there was triumph in her voice. 'Beside Aurelius.'

Jesu bless her, she had done what she could for Uther's memory. It was right that they should be buried together in any case, but Ygerna wanted their names for ever linked in renown and respect. She had buried the husband she loved next to the one the people loved.

As we came near the hall, she turned to me, and, laying a hand on my arm, said, 'I carry Uther's child.'

'Does anyone know?"

'My serving maid. She is sworn to silence.'

'See that she keeps it.'

Ygerna nodded. She understood. 'Will there be fighting?'

'Possibly. Yes, it is likely.'

'I see,' she said absently; there was something else on her mind I could tell. She was weighing her words carefully. I waited for her to come out with it in her own time.

The sea crashed below us, restless as Ygerna's heart. I could sense her unease. Still, I waited.

'Myrddin,' she said at last, her voice tight. 'Now that Uther is dead… ' Words failed her; she could not make them say what she felt. 'Now that the king is gone, perhaps it would not be… '

'Yes?'

She pressed my hand and gazed earnestly at me – as if I held power to grant or withhold her heart's desire. 'The child – my son. Please, Myrddin, where is he? Is he safe? May I send for him?'

'It cannot be, Ygerna.'

'But surely now – now that Uther… '

I shook my head gently. 'The danger has not diminished; in fact, with Uther's death it has increased. Until you have delivered Uther's child, Aurelius' son remains the only heir.'

Ygerna dropped her head. The babe had been much on her mind and in her heart, as it would with any mother. 'May I go to him?'

'That would not be wise, I fear,' I told her. 'I am sorry. I wish it could be otherwise.'

'Please, just to see him -'

'Very well,' I relented, 'that may be arranged. But it will take time. Arthur must be -'

'Arthur… ' she whispered, 'so that is what you named him.'

'Yes. Please understand, I would have acted differently but Uther told me no name to give him. I hope you approve."

'It is a good name. A strong name, I think.' She smiled wistfully, repeating the word to herself. 'You have done well. I thank you.'

'I have taken your child from you, my lady, and you thank me. Indeed, you are a remarkable woman, Ygerna.'

She searched my face with her eyes, and apparently found what she was seeking. 'You are good, Myrddin. You, above all men, have treated me as an equal. I will do whatever you tell me to do.'

'You need do nothing for the moment. Later, when the High Kingship is decided – well, we will leave tomorrow's worries for tomorrow.'

Her smile showed the relief she felt. We entered the hall and fell to talking of other things. We dined most pleasantly, and retired early. The next morning I asked for the sword and one of the dragon standards Uther had devised as the symbol of the High Kingship.

Ygerna gave them to me, saying, 'Dunaut was here and wanted the sword. I would not let him have it. I told him Uther was buried with it.' She paused and smiled guiltily. 'I am not sorry I lied.'

'It was well you did not give him the sword,' I told her. 'We would have a hard time getting it back from him, I think. Indeed, we will have a difficult enough time keeping his hands off it as it is.'

'Farewell, Myrddin Emrys. Send word, if you think of it – I should like to know what happens at the king choosing.'

'Farewell, Ygerna. I will bring word myself, if I can, when it is over.'

A few days later, I turned aside at the plain above Sorviodunum and the Giant's Dance: that great and ancient circle of stones the folk of the region call the Hanging Stones, for the way those enormous rock lintels seemed, in certain light, to float above the ground.

The circle stood by itself on the crest of a wide, smooth hill. No one was about, nor did I expect otherwise. Cold, immense, mysterious, men left the Ring alone for the most part. It reminded them that there were secrets in the earth which they would never know, that the wonders of a previous age remained for ever beyond their ken, that a superior race had lived where they lived now and that they, too, would one day vanish as the ring-builders and the mound-builders before them had vanished, that life in this worlds-realm was furtive and short.

A small herd of cattle grazed in the area, and a few sheep wandered bleating in the ditch around the stones. I rode in among the standing stones to the inner ring and dismounted. The twin grave mounds – one new made, the other covered with short-cropped grass – lay side by side.

The wind moaned among the Hanging Stones, and the bleating sheep sounded like the disembodied voices of those buried in the earthen chambers that stood a way off from the great circle. Above, black crows sailed on silent wings in a white, empty sky. And it did seem, as the Hill Folk believed, that the Ring marked the place where two worlds touched.

Appropriate then that here, where the worlds met, were the brother kings united: together for ever. Uther would never have to leave his brother's side, and Aurelius would never lack his brother's care. Neither would be separated from the other any more.

At the sight of the bare-earthed mound, I sank to my knees. And I sang:

I passed time at dawn, I slept in a purple shadow;

I was a rampart beneath bold emperors,

A cloak folded on the shoulders of two kings,

The shining arc of two lusty spears thrown down from heaven.

In Annwfn they will sharpen the battle,

With golden deeds they will rout the everlasting Enemy;

Seven-score hundred have bowed in death before them,

Seven-score thousand will uphold them in victory.

Brave kings and true, their blood is cold,

Their song is ended.

Oh, Uther, deeply do I regret your death. We were wary friends at best, but we understood one another, I think. May it go well with you, my king, on your journey to the Otherworld. Great of Might, accept this wayward soul into your company and you will not want for a more loyal companion. For I declare to you most solemnly, King of Heaven, Uther lived by the light that was in him.

May all men alive claim as much.

By the time I reached Londinium, the chase was already well along – which is to say that the crown-lusting hounds had the scent of the High Kingship in their nostrils and were hot on the trail. Dunaut, of course, with his friends Morcant and Coledac, led the pack. But there were others close behind them: Ceredigawn with the support of his kinsman Rhain of Gwynedd; Morganwg of Dumnonia and his sons; Antorius and Regulus of the south Cantii; and Ogryvan of Dollgellau.

There would have been more – in fact, there would be more when those whose realms lay farther away arrived. As it was, the sparring was merely boasting and posturing, the swagger of combatants before the contest. The actual fight had not yet begun.

Bishop Urbanus, beside himself with indecision, welcomed me distractedly. 'Merlinus, I am glad you have come. I tell you the truth when I say that I am at my wits' end keeping peace between the lords. The things they say to one another,' he complained, adopting a shocked demeanour, 'and in a church!'