Then Myrddin raised his hands in invocation, his voice—a true bard’s voice—swelling to fill the church with its rich, resonant sound.
“Great of Might, High King of Heaven, Lord of the High Realms, Maker, Redeemer, Friend of Man, we worship and honor you!”
Then turning to the four quarters of the church, he began the prayer that was first prayed by the Blessed Dafyd for Aurelius, High King of Britain and Arthur’s father. Calling out aloud, he cried:
“Light of sun,
Radiance of moon,
Splendor 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,
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,
Against incantations of false druids,
Against black arts of barbarians,
Against wiles of idol-keepers,
Against enchantments great and small,
Against every foul thing that corrupts body and soul.
Jesu with him, before him, behind him;
Jesu in him, beneath him, above him;
Jesu on his right, Jesu on his left;
Jesu when he sleeps, Jesu when he wakes;
Jesu in the heart of everyone who thinks of him;
Jesu in the mouth of everyone who speaks of him;
Jesu in the eye of everyone who sees him.
We uphold him today, through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Three in One,
Through belief in God,
Through confession of the Holy Spirit,
Through trust in the Christ, Creator of all creation.
So be it.”
Then, coming once more before Arthur, he said, “Bow before the Lord of All, and swear your fealty to the High King you will serve.”
Arthur prostrated himself facedown before the altar, stretching out his hands to either side in the manner of a vanquished battlechief before his conqueror. Teilo and Dubricius came to stand at either hand, and Illtyd stood over Arthur at his head.
Dubricius, at Arthur’s right hand, said, “With this hand you will wield the Sword of Britain. What is your vow?”
Without lifting his face Arthur answered, “With this hand I will wield the Sword of Britain in righteousness and fair judgment. By the power of God’s might and through his will, I will use it to conquer injustice and punish those who practice harm. I will hold this hand obedient to my Lord God, used of him to do his work in this worlds-realm.”
Teilo, at Arthur’s left hand, said, “With this hand you will hold the Shield of Britain. What is your vow?”
“With this hand I will hold tight to the Shield of Britain in hope and compassion. By the power of God’s might and through his will, I will protect the people who keep faith with me and hold Jesu for their Lord. I will hold this hand obedient to my Lord God, used of him to do his work in this worlds-realm.”
Illtyd, standing at Arthur’s head, said, “Upon your brow you will wear the Crown of Britain. What is your vow?”
“Upon my brow I will wear the Crown of Britain in all honor and meekness. By the power of God’s might and through his will, I will lead the kingdom through all things whatever shall befall me, with courage, with dignity, and with faith in the Christ who shall guide me.”
Whereupon the three priests replied, “Rise in faith, Arthur ap Aurelius, taking the Christ to be your Lord and Savior, honoring him above all earthly lords.”
Arthur rose, and Illtyd placed the slender golden circlet upon his head. Dubricius turned to the altar and took up Caliburnus—that is Caledvwlch, or Cut Steel, Arthur’s great battle sword—and placed it in the king’s right hand. Teilo took up Prydwen, Arthur’s great round battle shield, which had been white-washed anew and painted with the Cross of Jesu.
Myrddin held before Arthur a wooden cross. “Arthur ap Aurelius ap Constantine, who would be High King over us, do you acknowledge the Lord Jesu as your High King and swear him fealty?”
“I do,” replied Arthur. “I pledge fealty with no other lord.”
“And do you vow to serve him through all things, as you would be served, even to the last of your strength?”
“I vow to serve him through all things as I am served, even to the last of my strength.”
Myrddin nodded solemnly and continued, “And will you worship the Christ freely, honor him gladly, revere him nobly, hold with him in truest faith and greatest love all the days that you shall live in this worlds-realm?”
“I will worship my Lord the Christ freely, honor him gladly, revere him nobly, and hold with him in truest faith and greatest love all the days that I shall live in this worlds-realm,” declared Arthur.
“And do you pledge to uphold justice, grant mercy, and seek truth through all things, dealing with your people in compassion and love?”
“I do pledge to uphold justice, grant mercy, and seek truth through all things, dealing with my people in compassion and love, even as I am dealt with by God.”
Upon receiving Arthur’s vows, Myrddin stepped close and unfastened the cloak from Arthur’s shoulders. Teilo and Dubricius brought forth a fine new cloak of imperial purple with gold edging. This they fastened at Arthur’s shoulder with a great silver stag-head brooch. Myrddin raised his hands and said, “Go forth, Arthur, to all righteousness and good works; rule justly and live honorably; be to your people a ready light and sure guide through all things, whatever may befall this worlds-realm.”
Arthur turned, holding the sword and shield, the new purple cloak falling from his shoulders to brush the floor stones.
“People of Britain, here is your High King! I charge you to love him, honor him, serve him, follow him, and pledge your lives to him even as he has pledged his life to the High King of Heaven.”
The people stood and opened their mouths to acclaim him, but before anyone could raise voice, the heavy doors of the church burst open with a loud commotion and in swept twelve fierce warriors with spears. Cai and Bedwyr rushed forth with swords drawn, and would have fallen upon the strangers. But Dubricius put out a hand to stay them saying, “Hold, men! There will be no bloodshed on this holy day. Put up your weapons, and we will see what they desire in coming here like this.”
The strange warriors advanced fearlessly to the very altar of the church where Arthur stood. Without a word they ranged themselves around the altar and stood with their spears raised high. Then appeared a most unusual sight: sixteen beautiful, dark-haired maidens, arrayed all in white, each holding a white dove in her hands and walking barefoot toward the altar.
Upon reaching the place where Arthur stood, the maidens halted and turned to face one another. No sooner had they done this than approached three tall battlechiefs dressed all in green and black. Each held a naked sword upright at arm’s length, and each walked backwards.
Turning neither right nor left, these men took their places beside the dove maidens. Thereupon the twelve warriors brought their spears down upon the stones with a sharp, resounding crack. At once appeared another maid, this one more beautiful and more graceful than all the others, carrying a new-burnished spear in one hand and a dove in the other.
This singular maid wore a cloak the color of fine emeralds edged in purple, and a long mantle of yellow bright as sunlight. Her raven hair was loose and long, and plaited with summe
r wild flowers of white and gold; her fair cheeks blushed the color of foxglove on the moor; her noble brow was high and smooth and white, lifting with noble pride, and her eyes held a playful gleam. She wore no shoes but nevertheless walked purposefully, yet with great elegance and dignity, to the altar.
Everyone in the church strained eyes to see this strange maid; they murmured aloud to one another, “Who is she? Who can she be? Why does she carry that spear? What does she want?”
But Arthur knew who she was, and though her appearance surprised and amazed him, he knew also why she had come.
“What is it?” demanded Myrddin of Bedwyr in a harsh whisper. “What is happening? Tell me, man!”
“It is Gwenhwyvar,” Bedwyr replied uncertainly. “She has come to honor Arthur, I think.”
“Honor him!” blurted Myrddin. “She has come to claim him!”
Gwenhwyvar halted before Arthur and bent low, laying the spear cross-wise at his feet. She straightened and placed the white dove in Arthur’s hands. Then she reached out a bold hand and took from the High King the Sword of Britain, which she grasped by the blade, wrapping her long fingers around the bright steel. And, raising Caliburnus to her lips, she kissed the crosspiece of the hilt and then cradled the naked blade to her breast.
It was so swiftly done. No one suspected what had taken place—except Myrddin, who knew well what the swords and doves signified; and Arthur, who knew in his heart that he had found the one woman in all the world his full equal in courage, and above all others worthy of his love.
In this way was Arthur made High King of all Britain. And in this way was Arthur also wed.
2
Gwenhwyvar brought with her a wedding gift: a tabled rotunda—a structure of cunning craft and of a design unknown in Britain. That is, she brought the builder’s drawings for this edifice: five vellum scrolls of ancient age wrapped tightly in fine linen. These drawings had been treasured by the kings of Ierne through many generations. As far as is known, there is only one other rotunda like it in all the world, and that is in the City of Constantine in the east.
A strange gift, certainly, for a wedding. But appropriate for a Warrior Queen like Gwenhwyvar. She had conceived the idea while sojourning with the Fair Folk at Ynys Avallach where she came to know Charis, Myrddin’s mother, and daughter of Avallach, the Fisher King.
Myrddin was given the task of overseeing the construction of the tabled rotunda; the Great Emrys was the only man in this worlds-realm with knowledge and subtlety enough to raise the building. This work became the cornerstone of Arthur’s reign.
Building also began at Caer Melyn, Arthur’s southern capital, and at Caer Lial which he had taken for his northern seat. The High King decided that he would maintain two principal courts so that Britain should remain united. Caer Lial, old Caer Ligualid, City of the Legions in the north, was a wise choice. It was on the Wall, yet also near a sheltered bay which could serve the fleet. Seven roads met there, allowing rapid travel to all parts of the Island of the Mighty.
Caer Lial, long abandoned, lay in grey ruins: streets silent, tumbled houses roofless, garrison yards weed-grown, doorways deserted, forum vast and empty. The people of the area had from time to time pulled down parts of its walls for building stone, but mostly the once-proud city was left to its own slow decay.
It was to Caer Lial that I came with my father, Caw, lord of Trath Gwryd, who had his realm from the High King. He had brought me to serve with the Cymbrogi as he was beholden to do.
Trained as a bard since I could speak—though also learned in Latin—I felt my heart beat high with the thought that I might sit at the feet of the Exalted Emrys, Chief Bard of Britain. The day I arrived in the Pendragon’s city is one I shall never forget.
My father and I rode down from Trath Gwryd with two of my older brothers who were also to join the Cymbrogi. Caw had nine sons and all but one served the Pendragon faithfully; at thirteen, I was youngest of all.
Caer Melyn was a stronghold of timber, but Caer Lial was a city of stone. A marvel of the stonemason’s craft, jewel of the north. Everywhere I looked, the brightness of Arthur shone in his fair city. Even the streets gleamed!
Once past the gates, we dismounted out of respect and led our horses through the city to the High King’s palace—the former regional residence of an Imperial Legate, now restored. We were received by Cai, King Arthur’s seneschal, who informed us that the Pendragon was away but expected to return at any time.
“I welcome you in the name of the Pendragon,” he said, “and I accept the tribute of your sons, Lord Caw.” He gripped the arms of my older brothers, but ignored me altogether. “We are ever grateful for good fighting men among the Cymbrogi.”
Caius ap Ectorius of mighty Caer Edyn was a champion many times over. Hair red as flame, having quick green eyes, he was a huge man, with a generous, open countenance which spoke of a guileless heart and an easy mind. Still, I reckoned he would be a formidable foe in battle. A man to make his enemies curse the day of their birth. I felt weak and unworthy just standing next to him. And this though I had been raised in a lord’s house with warriors for brothers!
Cai summoned one of his stewards, and after my father’s farewells, my brothers were led away to the warriors’ precinct opposite the enormous training field behind the palace. My father and Cai talked for a time, and eventually their talk turned to me.
“What of the Great Emrys?” my father asked. “Aneirin here is also pledged to Arthur’s service, but as he is a mabinog and will soon become a bard we thought the Chief Bard might sooner find a place for him.”
Cai claped a hand to my shoulder, rattling my frame, and grinned. “A filidh for Myrddin, eh? Splendid! I have been telling him he needs assistance. There is simply too much to do, and Rhys unfortunately has not mastered the art of being in three places at once. It will be good to have you with us.”
I thanked him and plucked up what courage I possessed at the age of thirteen. “If you tell me where he is, I will go to him and recommend myself with your blessing.”
Cai laughed at my presumption. “Oh, you will do, boy. But the Emrys is not here. He is at work on the rotunda. He resumed work this spring as soon as the snow cleared the valleys, and vows that he will nowise return until it is finished.”
“If you will tell me where he is to be found, I will go to him and give myself to his service.”
Cai’s grin became secretive. “Oh aye, that is the problem, is it not—where is the Table Round?”
The whereabouts of Arthur’s shrine was being kept secret. A holy place, it was to remain hidden from the world of men. Since part of its function was as burial vault for great warriors, the High King did not want its hallowed ground desecrated by curious wayfarers, or jealous pagans. He did not wish it to become a place of pilgrimage, for although a sacred site, it was to be first and foremost a sanctuary for the gallant who had given their lives for Britain, and so earned their blessed rest. Inasmuch as he also planned to be buried there at the appointed time, the Pendragon did not want its peace disturbed.
“It would not do to have just anyone about the place,” Cai continued, regarding me suspiciously. “But if you are to be a help to Myrddin—”
“Lord Cai,” I interrupted, “would it not be better to address the Exalted Emrys by his rightful title?” My impertinence was boundless!
“You think me insolent?” Cai folded his arms across his vast chest. “Well, I tell you this, boy. If I make bold to speak his name, it is because I have earned the right. Let us pray that when you reach my height and years you can do the same with me!”
My ears burned, as well they should. My father gave me a look of strong reproof. “Forgive me, Lord Seneschal,” I replied meekly, my cheeks crimson with embarrassment.
Cai softened immediately. “Still, if you are to be a help to Myrddin, it is no doubt best for you to be where he is. Since he is not here, you must go there. It will be arranged.”
My father and I thanked him heartily
, whereupon Cai said, “In Arthur’s name I extend to you the hospitality of the High King’s hall. You will sup with us tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough to begin your journey.”
I remember almost nothing about that first night in Arthur’s hall—except drinking too much wine before meat and falling asleep facedown in my bowl. I awoke next morning in a strange part of the palace, near the kitchens, and found my way once more to the hall. The hall was empty, but I heard voices echoing from the doorway beyond and went out onto a portico to find my father and Cai saying farewell to one another.
With throbbing head I, too, bade my father farewell, and apologized to Cai for my embarrassing behavior of the night before—whatever it had been. “You will think me low and untutored,” I said, “and I would not blame you. But I assure you I mean to be worthy of the honor of my service, Lord Seneschal.”
The big battlechief placed his hands on my shoulders and held my gaze with his eyes. “Then be worthy, boy. No one stands between you and honor. Take it, seize it! It is yours if you want it.” And so it was.
I broke fast on bread and water—I could stomach nothing else—and I was given to the care of one of the seneschal’s stewards. My horse stood saddled and ready in the yard, so we left the city and rode north on the old Roman road into the Rheged wilderness. As we rode along, I learned that my companion’s name was Tegyr. He had been a warrior once, but had lost his right hand in the Battle of Baedun Hill. Now he was Cai’s chief steward and proud of it, for, as he said, “I would have given my right hand anyway to serve the Pendragon; it is but small loss to bear.”