They talked like this until we reached the church, where we were met by Archbishop Urbanus, and Uflwys, who was now Bishop of Londinium. 'Hail, Arthur! Hail, Merlinus! Greetings, good friends. In the name of our Lord the Christ, we do welcome you,' said Urbanus. 'May God's holy blessing be upon you.'
'How have you fared?' asked Uflwys. 'If you are hungry we have bread and ale.'
'We can do better than that for the High King of Britain, Uflwys,' the archbishop said. 'You will find that we have not been idle since receiving word of your arrival.'
Arthur thanked the archbishop, and suggested to Uflwys that the Cymbrogi stood ready to serve. 'We are well used to making our own preparations,' he said.
'While in Londinium,' Archbishop Urbanus replied, 'you must allow us to serve you. After all you have done for Dyfrig at Mailros, it is the least kindness we can perform.'
By this the archbishop revealed his affliction; he suffered the same peculiar blindness as the southern noblemen. The Cymbrogi war host under Arthur's command had, at hideous cost, saved Britain from its deadliest danger, and all Urbanus could see was that an obscure northern abbey would receive a new roof and altar. Oh, but they are an ignorant fetch, these haughty southern patricians.
Nevertheless, we stayed in the precinct of the church, and in the next days it hummed like a bee tree in high summer. Riders came and went with messages both to and from various lords and noblemen. Even before entering the city, I had sent word to Dyfed in the west, as it was in my mind to have Bishop Teilo and Dubricius the Wise perform the crowntaking ceremony.
For, despite the archbishop's apparent blessing, I knew that he was not the man to bestow the Sovereignty of Britain. It was not a question of his esteem for Arthur; he did honour Arthur – in his own way. But Urbanus had lived too long in the city; too long had he feasted at the tables of rich and powerful men.
Their thoughts had become his thoughts – rather than the other way. In short, the archbishop cared more for the friendship and good opinion of men like Paulus than for that of God. That is the sad truth of it.
The Kingdom of Summer required pure hearts and hands to guide it. In Arthur, the Summer Realm had found its lord; and in Arthur's kingship, a new age was being born. I did not care to allow a power-worshipping sycophant like Urbanus to midwife such an important birth. Therefore, I sent to those whom I knew to be holy men, as pure and undefiled in their faith as they were fierce in its protection.
When Urbanus heard what I had done, he reckoned it a slight. But I told him, 'As Arthur is a man of the west and north, and will return there to establish his reign, I think you will agree it is only fitting that those who must serve with him also commission him to his rule.'
'Ah, yes, of course,' replied Urbanus, even as he struggled to calculate the degree of affront offered him. 'When you put it in that light, I do agree with you, Merlinus. I will leave it in your hands, and in God's.'
Within a few days, the first visitors began arriving in Londinium. A trickle to begin, the arrivals rapidly swelled to flood stage. From the Three Fair Realms of Lloegres, Prydein, and Celyddon they came, from Gwynedd, Rheged, and Dyfed, Mon and Ierne and Dal Riata, from Derei and Bernicia.
Aelle and his kinsmen were already there, but the presence of the Bretwalda caused other lords of the Saecsen kind to appear: Cynric, Cymen, and Cissa, with their carles and kith. Ban of Benowyc in Armorica, who had supported Arthur as he had Aurelius, arrived with two ships full of noblemen and servants. Meurig ap Tewdrig, King of Dyfed; Idris of the Brigantes, Cunomor of Celyddon, Brastias of the Belgae, and Ulfias of the Dubuni. King Fergus of Ierne, who owed Arthur tribute, received the summons and obeyed.
Each and every lord among them brought gifts for the new High King. The Dragon Flight, the Cymbrogi elite, were charged with assembling and guarding the tribute which flowed like a river of wealth into the church: gold and silver objects of all kinds – beakers, bowls, bracelets and brooches – many of them set with jewels and gemstones; there were swords and spears and shields and knives, and handsome carved-wood chests and chairs; there were bows of horn with silver-tipped arrows, and gifts of mead and ale, as well as grain and smoked meat-whole halves and haunches of pork and beef and venison. There were horses and hunting hounds by the score… the tribute of kings brought to seal the bond of fealty.
And when at last the day came to assemble in the church for the kingmaking, there was not enough room for everyone beneath that holy roof. The yard outside the church was scarcely less crowded than the sanctuary inside, and still there were those who were forced to stand in the street with the citizens of Londinium, who had lately become very impressed with this northern upstart and wanted to attend his crowntaking, out of curiosity if not homage. Even so, many who came simply to gawk stayed to venerate the new High King.
And this is the way of it:
We awakened before dawn on the appointed day to pray and break fast. Then, taking up my rowan rod, my hand on Bedwyr's shoulder to guide me, I led Arthur, who was flanked by Cai and Cador, across the crowded churchyard and into the church. Directly behind Arthur came young Illryd, Dubricius' aide, who held a golden circlet in his hands. Bishop Teilo and Dubricius followed in their long cleric robes, each clasping a holy book.
The church was already full to overflowing, and at our appearance, the throng gasped: Arthur, arrayed like a Celtic prince, seemed a creature conjured from the strange, shifty light of the west or the enchanted mists of the north. He wore a pure white tunic and green trousers with a belt made of overlapping disks of finest red gold. His golden tore gleamed at his throat, and on his shoulders hung a fine red cloak.
Looking neither right nor left, he approached the altar to the chants of the assembled monks. 'Gloria! Gloria! Gloria in Excehis Deaf they sang, filling the church with praise for the High King of Heaven, as at the altar Arthur knelt. Dubricius and Teilo took their places before him, placing their right hands upon his shoulders.
Raising my hands, I called out, making my voice resound within those walls. 'Great of Might, High King of Heaven, Lord of the High Realms, Maker, Redeemer, Friend of Man, we worship and honour you!'
Like a bard of old, I turned to the four quarters and offered up the prayer Blessed Dafyd had offered for Aurelius on his crowntaking:
We pray this day for Arthur, our king;
Light of sun,
Radiance of moon,
Splendour of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of sea,
Stability of earth,
Firmness of rock,
Bear witness:
We pray this day for Arthur, our king;
For God's strength to steady him,
God's might to uphold him,
God's eye to look before him,
God's ear to hear him,
God's word to speak for him,
God's hand to guard him,
God's shield to protect him,
We do summon all these powers
between him and these evils:
God's host to save him
From the snares of devils,
From temptation of vices,
From everyone who shall wish him ill
We do summon all these powers
between him and these evils:
Against every cruel power that may oppose him,