'You know,' he said, 'I have believed until this moment that the Lord's Cup was denied me for the great sin of my life… '
'Surely, grandfather, your sins are no greater than any other man's. Far less, I should think, than many I could name. And you have Jesu's forgiveness… '
My attempt to ease his mind was a thin one, and it is doubtful he even heard me, for he continued, 'I gave life to Morgian.'
At the sound of the name my heart turned leaden in my chest. Morgian… what had she been up to while I was lost to the world of men? Something told me her hands had not been idle. I saw her as a black spider spinning webs of alluring death around her.
'Where is Morgian?' I asked, dreading the answer. I had to know.
Avallach sighed wearily. 'She is in the Orcades – a group of small islands in the northern sea. A good place for her, I think; at least she is far from here.'
I had heard of this island realm, called Ynysoedd Erch, in the British tongue: the Islands of Fear. And now I knew why. 'What does she there?'
The Fisher King sighed wearily. No one who has not so mourned can know the pain of a parent whose child has gone wrong. But he bore his torment like the king he was, neither pitying himself nor excusing himself. 'What Morgian does only Morgian knows. But we hear lately that she has married a man, a king named Loth, and has borne him children.
'I know nothing of the man nor his unfortunate spawn, but there are tales of great wickedness in the north, and terrors that defy description. It is Morgian's handiwork, of course, but what she intends I cannot guess.'
I could guess well enough what she intended. 'Is anything known of these children?'
'Only that they live. But no, there is no word… no certain word about any of this. Just traveller's tales and dark rumours.'
Morgian had learned patience, I will give her that. She was biding her time well, no doubt steeping herself in her craft and the forbidden lore of the ancients, gaining strength and black wisdom. She could wait, knowing perhaps that her best time to strike had not yet come. There would be chaos in the land soon, and she would have her chance. When she struck there would be no mistaking it.
It was clear to me from that moment that the problems of Britain could not be considered wholly apart from Morgian. The very fact that she had taken a Briton king as husband – the people of the Orcades are Briton rather than Pict or Irish – could only mean that her ambitions had blossomed since I had last seen her. Then she might have been content with a soul or two to torture, now she wanted an entire realm.
Great Light, be the strong shield before your warriors, be the very steel in their hands!
It occurred to me to use the seeing bowl to determine what Morgian was about. Although I shrank inwardly from an encounter with her, I could have done it. But it seemed best to me not to interfere or draw attention to myself in any way. I did not know what powers she possessed. Very likely, she already knew I was back among the living – if not, she soon would. Better to let her wait and wonder. It never serves to let an enemy know your strength and position.
'Listen to me, Avallach,' I told him. 'You have no reason to feel guilt for Morgian. You are not responsible for her evil.'
'Am I not?' He frowned as if something foul lay on his tongue. 'I gave her life, Merlin. Oh, what would I give if… if -'
'If and if and if! Do you hear yourself?' I said hotly. 'If cannot change w!'
He looked at me with mild reproach for my temper. 'No, nothing is changed, Merlin,' he said sadly. 'We all must bear our failures to the grave.'
We spoke no more about this and went on to talk of happier things. Still, I wondered why his words stirred such a response in me.
'But he does blame himself,' said Charis later when I told her about it. 'He believes himself responsible.'
'One man cannot make himself responsible for the actions of another,' I insisted.
Mother smiled. 'One did, once. Or have you forgotten? Is there anything to prevent it happening again?'
I had not forgotten, but I remembered it now anew, and in a slightly different light. Was Charis suggesting that Avallach might be contemplating an atoning act on behalf of Morgian? Here was something new to think about. 'You cannot let him do it,' I said earnestly. 'You must not.'
'Merlin,' she said soothingly, 'what is the matter? You are troubled, son. Tell me.'
I sighed and shook my head. 'It is nothing; it will pass.' For some reason I thought of Maelwys, and I asked about him. 'Tell me, how did Maelwys die?'
'There was an attack on Maridunum,' Charis explained. 'We fought off the invaders, having met them on the coast. The battle was over and he was returning to the villa with some of his men. There was an ambush and the villa was fired… '
As she spoke, my mind filled with images of such horror and pain that I trembled to see them. My mother broke off her recitation. 'Merlin, what is wrong?'
It was some moments before I could speak. 'There is great hardship coming,' I replied at last. 'Many will fall in the darkness and many more will be lost to it.' I regarded her grimly, hating what I had seen. 'Surely, no one alive now has ever endured such calamity.'
'I have, Merlin,' she said gently, answering the note of hopelessness in my voice. 'I have endured, and so has Avallach, and all the rest who came with us.'
'Mother, look around, there are few left now – fewer every year.'
It was a cruel thing to say. I do not know why I said it, and the instant the words were out of my mouth I would have given my eyes to have them back.
Charis nodded sadly. 'It is true, my Hawk. There are fewer of us every year. Maildun, my brother, died in the winter.' She lowered her eyes. 'We will not last. I used to hope that we might find a way to survive here; I thought that with your father – through Taliesin and I – we might survive in that way. But it was not to be. Yes, our days upon the land are nearly over and soon we will follow the rest of Earth's first children into the dust.'
'I am sorry, Mother. I should not have spoken so. Forgive me.'
'It is the truth, Merlin. You need never apologize for the truth.' She raised her head and looked me square in the eye, and I saw I was mistaken if I thought her words meant she had given up. 'But there is a greater Truth that must not be silenced ever: the Kingdom of Summer. As long as I am alive, it too is alive. And it lives in you, Merlin, and in all who believe and follow.'
The Kingdom of Summer… was it only a dream of paradise? Or could it be made real, here and now? Could men of flesh and blood inhabit such a place?
Once Taliesin had conceived it, had sung its shape in the heart, there could be no turning away from it. To deny the Summer Realm now would be to acquiesce to defeat, and ultimately to evil itself. For whenever the vision of a greater good has been proclaimed in the world of men, it must be striven for even unto death. Anything less is denial, and denial mocks the Great Light that inhabits the vision and gives it life. Turning away from good once it is known is wilfully turning towards evil.
Taliesin had set an enormous burden upon my shoulders, for it fell to me to bring the Summer Kingdom into being. Would that I had his voice, his gifts! I might have sung it into existence.
Look! I can see him with the harp in his hands, the shimmering notes spinning from his fingers, his face glowing with the reflected glory of his song… and oh! such a song, words streaming from his throat as through a living doorway from the Otherworld, his fair hair shining in the torchlight, the whole world still and breathless to hear the heartbreaking beauty of his song… I see him and I weep. Father! I never knew you!
I stayed at Ynys Avallach until the new moon and let the timeless serenity of the place reclaim my soul. I would have need of serenity in the turbulent days ahead.