Still others came, and not lords and chieftains only, but holy men as welclass="underline" Samson, most reverent priest of Goddodin in the north; the renowned Bishop Teilo, and abbots Ffili and Asaph, noble churchmen of Lloegres; and Kentigern, the much loved priest of Mon; Bishop Trimoriun and Dubricius, both learned and respected priests of the church at Caer Legionis; and, of course, Gwythelyn with all the monks of Dafyd's monastery at Llandaff.
Kings and lords and churchmen from all the realms of the Island of the Mighty came to uphold Aurelius as High King. And each had brought gifts: objects of gold and silver, swords, fine horses and hunting hounds, good cloth, ash bows and steel-tipped arrows, hides and skins and furs of finest quality, silver-rimmed drinking horns, casks of mead and dark beer, and more.
All brought gifts according to their wealth and rank, and I realized that they had been long anticipating this event and awaiting it with eagerness – even as I had predicted. Time had worked its wonder in their hearts, magnifying Aurelius in their eyes. They came to Londinium to make a High King, and they would see him crowned with all honour and esteem.
Did I say all? There was one whose absence fairly shouted: Gorlas. He alone risked the High King's wrath with his defiance. With the Christ Mass but one day away, there was still no word or sign from Gorlas. This weighed more heavily on me and on Uther than it did on Aurelius, who was so busy receiving the gifts and honour of his lords that he did not appear to notice Gorlas' slight.
But Uther noticed. As the days dwindled and preparations for the Feast of the Mass of Christ hurried apace, he stormed the upper rooms of Urbanus' house, angry, shouting, pounding tables and doorposts with his fists.
'Give me twenty men and I will bring back Gorlas' head for the High King's crowntaking, by Lieu and Jesu I would!'
I answered, 'Calm yourself, Uther. Lieu might approve of your gift, but I heartily doubt Jesu would find favour in it.'
'Well, am I to stand by and do nothing while that whore's whelp thumbs his nose at Aurelius? Tell me, Merlin, what am I to do? Mind, I will not suffer Gorlas' impudence lightly.'
'I say that it is Aurelius' affair, Uther, not yours. If the High King wishes to overlook Gorlas' insult, so be it. No doubt your brother will deal with it at a more opportune time.'
Uther subsided, but he was not appeased. He continued to grumble and growl, snarling at all who approached him, making himself so unpleasant that I finally sent him out to look for Pelleas, who had not yet arrived. For I knew Pelleas would have come by now unless prevented, and I had begun to be anxious over him.
I could have studied the fire for some sign of him, but I will tell you the truth, that since my healing and release from Celyddon, reading the embers, or gazing into the seeing bowl had become distasteful to me. Perhaps I feared that in walking the paths of the future I might meet Morgian – that occurred to me and the prospect chilled my heart. Or perhaps I was restrained by something else. In any event, I did not care to satisfy my curiosity with the fire or bowl, and I would not unless need were great.
So, Uther, glad to have something to do, ordered his horse to be saddled, and gathered a small band of companions and rode out from the city at midday. I was free to go about my own affairs, which included visiting Custennin and Tewdrig.
This kept me occupied well into the night, for the noblemen came to Aurelius one after another without cease, drinking his health, giving gifts, and pledging themselves and their heirs to his service. On the eve of the Christ Mass, the High King was awash in a floodtide of fealty and well-wishing. I spoke to this one and that, gathering information and knowledge, learning what I could from the lords about whose realms I was ignorant.
Dawn was but a whisper away when I finally made my way to my bedchamber – only to realize that Uther had not yet returned. Notwithstanding my reluctance, I was tempted to stir up the embers and see what had befallen him. But instead I donned my cloak and went to find my horse. The monk whose charge was the stable lay sleeping in his corner on a pallet of fresh straw, snoring. Loth to wake him, I saddled my mount and rode out into cold, silent streets.
The gatekeeper was nowhere to be seen, but the gate was not locked so I opened the gate myself and hastened out. Gusts of wind hissed through frost-stiffened foliage along the road outside the walls. The heavens were heavy with unshed snow, and shone like molten lead in the rising sun. I turned west with the road, knowing Uther would have ridden that way in search of Pelleas.
I rode, letting my horse have his head, glad to be out in the countryside once more and free of the too-close company of men. My thoughts turned to Pelleas. Perhaps I had not acted wisely in urging him to return to his home in Llyonesse. I knew nothing of affairs there. King Belyn might not have been pleased to see his bastard son; Pelleas might have come to harm.
Even now I did not think it likely and the thought would not have occurred to me at all, if not for the obvious fact of Pelleas' absence. Of course, he might have had trouble on the road – always possible, although it was hard to imagine what kind of trouble a seasoned warrior might encounter that could not easily be discharged by the quick stroke of his blade. Or might it be something else entirely? The empty road passed beneath my horse's hooves and my danger sense sharpened with each step. At every moment I expected to see Pelleas cresting the hill ahead. But I reached it first and he was not to be seen.
I rode until midday and then stopped. I must turn back if I was to return to Londinium in time for the Mass and Aurelius' crowntaking. I stopped and waited a moment on a tree-crowned hilltop, gazing into the distance all around, then, reluctantly, started back.
I had not ridden far, however, when I heard a shout.
'Mer-r-lin-n!’
The call came from some distance away, but was distinct in the crisp winter air. Instantly, I halted and whirled in the saddle. There, a long way off, a lone rider galloped towards me: Pelleas.
I waited and he reached me a few moments later, exhausted, out of breath, his horse lathered from a hard ride. 'I am sorry, my lord-' he began, but I dismissed his apology with a gesture. 'Are you well?' 'I am well, my lord.' 'Have you seen Uther?'
'Yes,' Pelleas answered with a nod, gasping for breath. 'We met him on the road -' 'We? Who was with you?'
'Gorlas,' Pelleas wheezed. 'I would have come sooner, but in the circumstance, I thought best -'
'No doubt you did right. Now tell me what has happened.'
'One day ago, on the road, Gorlas and his party were attacked. He travelled with but a small escort, and we were forced to fight for our lives; we held them off for a good while nevertheless. Uther came upon us when it appeared that we would fail. Our attackers fled; the Duke gave chase, but was eluded.' Pelleas paused, gulping air. 'Upon his return Uther sent me on ahead. He rides with Gorlas now.' 'How far behind?'
Pelleas shook his head. 'I cannot say for certain. I have been riding all night.'
I scanned the road behind, hoping to see some sign of Uther and Gorlas; there was none. 'Well, there is nothing we can do now. We will return to Londinium and await them there.'
Owing to Pelleas' fatigue, we were late in reaching the city. But we hurried to Urbanus' house and washed ourselves, before going to the church. By the time we arrived, the church was already full; the yard was thronged with the lords' retinues and curious citizens. We forced our way through the press at the doors and made our way among the crowd inside, finding places beside a pillar near the front.