Upon reading from the sacred text, Dafyd lifted his face and spread his arms to us. 'Rejoice!' he called. 'Again I say rejoice! For the King of Heaven is king over us, and his name is Love.
'Let me tell you of love: love is patient and long enduring; it is kind, never envying, never ambitious for itself, never putting on airs, or displaying itself haughtily; it boasts not.
'Never vain, never arrogant, never puffed up with pride, love behaves in a seemly manner, never rude or unbecoming. Love seeks not its own reward, nor makes demands, but gives itself withal.
'Love does not persevere to its own benefit; it is not fretful, or resentful. It takes no account of evil done to it, and pays no heed to the wrongs it suffers. Yet, it does not rejoice at injustice, but rejoices when right and truth prevail.
'Love bears all things, hopes all things, believes the best in all things. Love never fails, and its strength never fades. Every gift of the Giving God will come to an end, but love will never end.
'And so three things abide for ever: faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is love.'
So saying, he invited us to the Table of Christ to receive the cup and bread, which was Body and Blood to us. We sang a psalm and Dafyd offered a benediction, saying, 'My lords and ladies, it is written: Wherever two or more are gathered in his name, Jesu is there also. He is here among us tonight, friends. Do you feel his presence? Do you feel the love and joy he brings?'
We did feel it; there was not a single soul in that glowing, glittering company gathered in the hall that did not feel the Holy One's presence. And because it was so, many who heard the mass believed in the Saviour God from that night.
This, I thought to myself, is the foundation the Kingdom of Summer is built upon. This is the mortar that binds it together.
The next day Dafyd took me to see his new chapel; we talked along the way, riding out on one of those brilliant winter days when the world gleams like a thing new-made. The sky was high and clean and bright, shining pale blue like fragile bird's eggs. Eagles wheeled through cloudless sweeps of heaven, and quail strutted through elder thickets. A black-tipped fox slipped across the trail with a pheasant in its mouth, stopping to give us a wary glance before disappearing into a copse of young birches.
We talked as we rode, our breath puffing in great silver clouds in the cold air, and I told him about my life among the Prytani. Dafyd was fascinated, shaking his head slowly from time to time, trying to take it all in.
In good time we arrived at the chapel, a square timber structure set on a raised foundation of stone on top of a wooded rise. The steep roof was thatched and the eaves reached almost to the ground. Behind the chapel a springfed well spilled over to form a small pool. Two deer at the pool bounded into the brake at our approach.
'Here is my first chapel,' Dafyd declared proudly. 'The first of many. Ah, Myrddin, there is a rich harvest hereabouts; the people are eager to hear. Our Lord the Christ is claiming this land for his own, I know he is.'
'So be it,' I said. 'May Light increase.'
We dismounted and went inside. The interior had the new building smelclass="underline" wood-shavings and straw, stone and mortar. It was bare of furniture, but there was a wooden altar with a slab of black slate for a top, and affixed to the wall above it, a cross carved from the wood of a walnut tree. A single beeswax candle stood upon the slate in a golden holder that surely came from Maelwys' house. Before the altar lay a thick woollen pad on which Dafyd knelt for his prayers. Light entered the room from narrow windows along the side walls, now covered with oiled skins for winter. It was similar to the shrine at Ynys Avallach, but larger, for Dafyd fully expected his small flock to increase, and had built to accommodate them.
'It is a good place, Dafyd,' I told him.
There are far grander chapels in the East,' he said. 'Some with pillars of ivory and roofs of gold, I hear.'
'Perhaps,' I allowed. 'But do they also have priests who can fill a king's hall with words of peace and joy that win men's hearts?'
He beamed happily. 'I do not envy the gold, Myrddin, never fear.' Spreading his arms and turning slowly about the room, he said, 'This is where we begin and it is a good beginning. I see a time when there is a chapel on every hill and a church in every town and city in'this land.'
'Maelwys tells me you are building a monastery as well.'
'Yes, a little distance from here – close enough to be a presence, but far enough away to be set apart. We will begin with six brothers; they are coming from Gaul in the spring. More hands will make the work lighter, true enough, but what is most important is the school. If we are to establish the Truth in this land, there must be a place of learning. There must be books and there must be teachers.'
'A glorious dream, Dafyd,' I told him.
'Not a dream, a vision. I can see it, Myrddin. It will be.'
We talked a while longer and then he led me out to walk through the unbroken snow to the pool behind the chapel. I had some presentiment of what was about to happen, for I suddenly had a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach and a lightness in my head. I followed the priest to a little bower beside the pool with its thin skin of ice which the deer had broken to get at the water.
In the bower, formed by three small hazel trees, stood an oaken stake with a cross-piece lashed into place with rawhide. I stood for a long moment looking down at the hump of earth beneath the snow. Finally, I found my voice. 'Hafgan?'
Dafyd nodded. 'He died last winter. The foundation here had just been laid. He chose this spot himself.'
I sank to my knees in the snow and stretched myself full-length upon the grave mound. The earth was cold, cold and hard; Hafgan's body lay deep in the frozen ground. Not for him entombment in cromlech and barrow, his bones would rest in ground sacred to a different God.
The snow melted where my tears fell.
Farewell, Hafgan, my friend, may it go well with you on your journey. Great Light, shower mercy upon this noble soul and robe him in your loving kindness. He served you well with what light he had.
I got to my feet and brushed snow from my clothes. 'He never told me,' Dafyd remarked, 'but I gather something happened on your journey to Gwynedd, something unpleasant or distressing to him.'
Yes, it would have distressed him. 'He had hoped to bring the Learned Brotherhood into the Truth, but they refused. As Archdruid, I suppose he saw their refusal as a defiance of his authority, as rebellion. There was a confrontation and he disbanded the Brotherhood.'
'I thought it must have been something like that. When he returned, we had many long talks about -' Dafyd chuckled gently, ' – about the most obscure.points of theology. He wanted to know all about Divine Grace.'
'Seeing that he is buried on holy ground, it would appear he found his answer.'
'He said he wanted his burial here not because he thought his bones might rest better in hallowed earth, but that he wanted it to be a sign, an expression of his allegiance to Lord Jesu. I had thought he should be buried at Caer Cam with his people, but he was adamant. "Look you, brother priest," he said, "it is not the ground, not the soil – earth is earth and rock is rock. But if anyone comes looking for me, I want them to find me here." So, here he is.'
It was very like Hafgan; I could hear him saying that. So, he had not died in Gwynedd as he had planned. Perhaps, after the confrontation with the druids, he had simply changed his mind. That would be like him as well. 'How did he die?'