Merlin

'All mortals serve, Myrddin. Immortals also. But I have not come to talk about me – I have come to talk about you.'

'Then you have come for no purpose.' The words were out before I could stop them. Do not send him away, Taliesin had said. I need not have worried, for my visitor took no notice of my rudeness.

'Once loosened, the tongue wags on, does it not?' This was said with great good humour. Annwas apparently enjoyed himself. He glanced around my scree-covered abode, and then turned his eyes to the west, over the vast, rumpled bearskin of Celyddon. 'Men say the light dies in the west,' he remarked casually. 'But if I told you it rises there, would you believe it?'

'Would it matter very much what I believed?'

'Myrddin… ' he shook his head lightly. 'I should have thought that all these years of solitary meditation would have taught you something about the power of belief.'

'Has it been many years then?'

'More than a few.’

'Why come to me now?'

The narrow bones of his shoulders hunched in a shrug. 'My lord wills it.'

'Am I to know your lord?'

'But you do know him, Myrddin. At least, you once did.' Annwas turned to look at me directly. I felt sympathy flowing out from him. He bent his long frame and settled cross-legged on the bare ground. 'Tell me now,' he said softly. 'Tell me about the battle.'

It was then that the rain began.

ELEVEN

The first drops splattered over us, but neither one moved. The storm grew, staining the sky violet and black like a wound – from which the rain gushed like blood.

'The battle, Myrddin; I have come to hear you tell it.' Ann-was held my gaze in his and made no move, despite the rain.

It was a moment before I could speak. 'What battle would that be?' I asked, dreading the answer. Darkness swirled around me, around the mountain itself in the form of a midnight mist 'that boiled out of nowhere. A rising wind began wailing among the crags, driving the rain.

'I think you know,' said Annwas gently.

'And it seems to me you know a great many things no man can possibly know of another!' I glared at him, feeling the wrath seethe in my soul once again. The wind screamed my defiance.

'Tell me,' he insisted gently, but his insistence was firm as rock. 'It will come easier once you begin.'

'Leave me!' I hated him for making me exhume those long-dead bones. The she-wolf leapt to her feet, snarling. Annwas lifted his hand to her and she subsided with a whimper.

'Myrddin,' the voice was soft as a mother's crooning to her babe, 'you will be healed. But first we must cut out the disease that poisons your soul.'

'I am happy as I am,' I gasped. Breath came hard to me. The wind howled now, and cold rain fell in stinging sheets upon us.

Annwas Adeniawc reached out his boney hand and touched my arm. 'No one is happy in hell, Myrddin. You have carried your burden long enough. It is time to lay it down.'

'Burden it may be, but it is all I have left!' I screamed, tears of rage and pain mingling with the rain on my face.

The hermit rose and went into my cave. I sat where I was until he called me. When I looked, there was a fire burning brightly just inside the entrance. 'Come in from the rain,' Annwas said. 'I will cook us something to eat while we talk.'

How long has it been since I had warm food in my belly? I wondered, and found myself going in to join him. I do not know where he found the small pot to hold the meaty stew, nor where he got the meat, nor the grain to make the bread. But as I watched him prepare the meal, and smelled it cooking, the fight went out of me and I began, haltingly, to tell him… and, God help me, I told him everything.

Ganieda went north that spring, to her father's house in Celyddon. It seems a woman needs to be near her own when a babe is born. I was against it, but my wife could be a most persuasive woman, and in the end Ganieda had her way.

I arranged the journey, taking every precaution, seeing to every detail personally, for I knew I would not be able to travel with her. She sought to reassure me. 'It will be lovely in Goddeu in the summer. You come when you can, my soul. Elma will be so surprised.' She kissed me. 'You are right to have a care for the journey, but nothing will happen to me.'

'It is not an afternoon's ride in the woods, Ganieda.'

'No, no it is not. And you are right to remind me. But I am not so far along with child that sitting a horse will be a hardship.' She stood up straight and smoothed her mantle over her still-flat stomach. 'See? I have not even begun to show. Besides, I am a most fearsome hand with a spear, am I not, love? I will be safe.'

Jesu, I should have gone with her!

'Anyway, I could not for one moment imagine having a baby without Elma to help me,' she continued. Elma was midwife to her mother, and the nearest thing to a mother Ganieda remembered. And, as I said, a woman needs to be with her own when the birth pangs begin. 'You worry for nothing, Myrddin. Gwendolau rides to meet us. And, if I do not leave soon, he will be here even before I start out.'

'Better still,' I remarked.

'Come with me, then.'

'Ah, Ganieda, you know I cannot. The towers, the horses, the warband must be trained -'

She stepped close and put her hands on my shoulders as she settled lightly in my lap, where I sat in my chair. 'Come with me, husband.'

I sighed. We had had this discussion before. 'I will follow as soon as I can,' I told her. It was only a few months. Ganieda had to set out now, while she could still make the journey safely and in some comfort. I was to follow when my summer's work was finished, joining her in the autumn. The babe would not be born until deep winter, so there was plenty of time for us to be together once I arrived in Goddeu.

The crops were well in when she finally set out. I sent her with thirty of my warband, and she took four of her women for company. Half as many would have sufficed, but I was of a mind to be cautious and Maelwys agreed, insisting that it was better safe than sorry. 'I would do the same if I stood in your place,' he told me.

It was still early in what was coming to be known as the warring season, so the actual risk of the travellers running into trouble on the road was not-great. Also, I had devised a route that kept them well away from the coasts. The only likely danger would be when they reached the Wall, and by then Gwendolau would have met them and they would be a force of fifty or more. There was no danger.

So, Ganieda left Maridunum one bright morning with her escort and I watched her go, feeling the warmth of her lips on my mouth as she turned her mount and joined the others, leaving the yard and striking off along the old road.

Oh, it was a jolly band. And why not? Ganieda was going home to have our baby and the world was a wondrous place. She waved farewell to me until she was out of sight; and I waved, too, until the flank of the hill took her from view. Then I said a prayer for her safety – not the first, nor the last, mind you – and went about my duties.

A balmy summer followed close on the heels of spring. The thirty returned in due time with the report that all had been well on the road and after. They had seen Ganieda to her father's house and stayed there to rest the horses for a few days before turning back. Custennin was delighted to have his daughter home and sent his regards and the message that all was well with him and his realm. It was a quiet summer for. them; there had been no raids.

I was relieved, at last, and turned my attention to finishing my tasks, so that I might ride after her as soon as may be.

Maelwys and I worked hard, dawn to dusk every day, and retired to our beds exhausted. More than once, Pelleas had to wake me from my chair at the table so that I could stumble to my chamber. Charis had charge of the king's household and servants so that we could collapse each night with food in our bellies without having to think about that, too, or I fear we might have starved.