Pendragon

When he judged it prepared, Paulinus dipped out some of the cloudy liquor with a ladle and blew on it gently. 'There are several ways to determine if it is well made,' he said, 'but this is the best.' With that he put the ladle to his lips and drank it down. 'Yes. It is ready.'

Offering the ladle to each of us in turn, he gave us to drink of the draught. 'Taste,' he urged. 'There is no harm in it.'

'Pungent,' Charis concluded, wrinkling her nose slightly, 'and bitter – though not disagreeable.' She passed the ladle to me, and I sipped some down; the liquid tingled slightly on the tongue.

'If given when the fever first commences,' Paulinus instructed, 'the best result is secured, as I say.'

I commended the monk's sagacity, and said, 'This plague will be a match for any man's best. Your king could use you in the fight. Will you come with me?'

Paulinus was not slow to reply. 'I will come with you, Lord Emrys.' He turned in deference to his superior. 'If, that is, Abbot Elfodd will permit my absence.'

'Paulinus,' Elfodd said in a fatherly tone, 'you have received a summons from the High King. You must go. And, as we somehow endured here before you came, I daresay we shall make out when you have gone. Yes, go. I give you my blessing. Return when your service is completed.'

Paulinus inclined his head. 'I am your man, Lord Emrys.'

'Good.'

'We will prepare as much of the potion as we can before you go,' Charis offered. 'We will send you away with a goodly supply.'

Elfodd approved her offer. 'The brothers stand ready to serve. Many hands will speed the work.'

'I thank you both. I knew it could not be wrong to come here.' To Paulinus I said, 'Hurry, now. We will leave as soon as you are ready.'

Charis and I left Elfodd and Paulinus to their work and returned to the palace. She made no sound as we walked along, so I asked, 'Are you frightened?'

'Of the plague?' she asked with slight surprise. 'Not in the least. In my years on the Glass Isle, I have seen all that illness and disease can do, Hawk. Death no longer holds any terror for me. Why do you ask?'

'You have said nothing since leaving the abbey.'

She smiled wistfully. 'It is not from fear of plague, I assure you. If I am reticent it is because you will be leaving soon, and I do not know when I shall see you again.'

'Come with me.'

'Oh, Merlin, I dare not. Would that I could, but -'

'Why not?'

'I will be needed here.'

'Indeed, your skill will be welcomed wherever you go,' I told her. 'Arthur would find a place worthy of your skill and renown.' I paused. 'I know he would like nothing more than to see you again – Gwenhwyvar, too.'

'And I would like nothing more, I assure you,' she replied. 'But my place is here. I have lived so long upon my tor, I could not abandon it now – especially in these troubled days.'

'I wish more had your courage.'

'Bless you, my Hawk. Perhaps when this present difficulty is over, I will come to Caer Melyn and stay a while with you. Yes,' she said, making up her mind. 'I will do that.'

While waiting for Paulinus to join me, I rode to Shrine Hill. It was in my mind to spend a moment at the small wattle-and-mud chapel in prayer before returning to the fray. The shrine, on its hump of a hill beside the tor, is kept clean and in good repair by the monks from the abbey. They venerate the place, since it was here the Good News first came to Britain with Joseph, the wealthy tin merchant from Arimathaea. The shrine is a simple structure, lime-washed with a reed-thatched roof over a single room containing a small stone altar.

I dismounted outside and entered the cool, dark room to kneel on the bare earth floor before the altar. The feeling of the Saviour God's presence in that crude sanctuary remained as potent as ever – it is an ancient and holy place. Here Arthur was given his vision and call, the night before he received the Sword of Sovereignty from the Lady of the Lake. Here, too, I saw the Grail, that most mysterious and elusive token of God's blessing and power.

Kneeling in that humble place, I said my prayers, and when I rose once more to continue on my way, it was with strength of heart and soul renewed.

Paulinus and I left Ynys Avallach a short while later; Arthur was waiting and I was anxious to set my plan in motion. It was this: all travel to and from Londinium must cease-every road and riverway sealed off; every settlement and holding must be warned and provided with the elixir. As to that, I would have Paulinus teach ten of the Cymbrogi how to make the potion; these ten, armed with this knowledge, would then range far and wide throughout Ynys Prydein taking word of the plague and instructing others how to combat it. Each monastery and abbey would, like the Glass Isle, become a refuge; the monks and clerics would make the healing potion and dispense it to surrounding settlements and holdings, instructing the people in the ways of combating the disease.

It was, I reflected, a poor strategy with which to fight so powerful an enemy as the Yellow Ravager. Still, it was the only weapon we had and we must use it however we could, seizing any advantage and every opportunity to strike – and strike swiftly.

Accordingly, Paulinus and I raced back along the Briw, retracing the trail to the landing-place where Barinthus and the boat waited. It was late the next day, and the sun was almost down, when I hailed the pilot. While he and Paulinus boarded the horses, I stood watching the gloom deepen across the vale of Mor Hafren, spreading like an oily stain over the water.

It was death I saw, the dissolution of the Summer Kingdom, that fairest flower extinguished in the first flush of its bloom before my eyes. My heart grew heavy within me, and cold.

Great Light, what more can one man do?

The sun had set by the time we reached the far shore, yet the night sky was light, so we hastened on our way, stopping once only to rest and water the horses. We rode through the next day and most of the next night – keeping close watch for the Vandali, but encountering none – and reached the British encampment before dawn. At our arrival, one of the night guards roused Arthur, who abandoned his bed to greet us.

I protested the intrusion, but he waved it aside. 'I would have wakened soon in any event,' he said. 'Now we have a moment's quiet to speak to one another.'

He bade me join him at his tent, where a small fire burned outside. 'Gwenhwyvar is still asleep,' he explained as we sat down at the fire.

'I thought I saw more ships on Mor Hafren,' I remarked as we sat down by the fire.

'Lot is here, as you know,' Arthur answered. 'Idris and Cunomor have come at last, and Cadwallo arrived the day after you left. They are with Gwalchavad and Cador, who are leading a raid to the south. If all goes well they should return at dawn.'

Rhys appeared bearing a bowl and some cold meat and stale bread. He offered the bowl first to Arthur, who pushed it towards me. 'I will have something later,' he said, 'but you have ridden hard. Eat, and tell me how you have fared in the Glass Isle.'

'It was God's own hand that led me there, Arthur,' I told him, breaking the bread. 'I was right about the plague.'

'I know,' replied Arthur, 'Llenlleawg told me about Caer Uisc. I was wrong to oppose you.'

I waved aside his apology. 'I have brought word of a healing potion – among other things.'

'I thought they said there was a monk with you.'

To Rhys I said, 'Fetch Paulinus; Arthur will receive him now.'

Yawning – all but swaying on his feet with exhaustion – the monk was led forth. Arthur cast a dubious eye over him. 'I give you good greeting, brother,' he said amiably.