'What will you do with it now?' I asked.

'What do you think I should do with it?'

'A sword like this could win a kingdom.'

'Then take it, my son, and win your kingdom with it.' Kneeling before me, she held it out to me.

I reached for the sword, but something prevented me. After a moment, I said, 'No, no, it is not for me. At least, not yet. Perhaps one day I will need such a weapon.'

Charis accepted this without question. 'It will be here for you,' she said, and began wrapping it up again.

I wanted to stop her, to strap that elegant length of cold steel to my hip, to feel its splendid weight filling my hand. But it was not yet time. I knew that, and so I let it be.

So it was that I found myself once more in the saddle – this time on the way to Llyonesse. Before starting out, however, I managed a short stay at Caer Cam to visit my grandfather Elphin. To say they were happy to see me would be to tell a lie through gross understatement. They were ecstatic. Rhonwyn, still as beautiful as ever I remembered her, fussed over me and fed me to bursting – when I was not lifting jars with Elphin and Cuall.

Our talk turned to matters of concern. Here, like everywhere else, men were mindful of Maximus' taking the purple, and his departure to Gaul with the troops. And they had a grim opinion of what that meant.

Cuall summed up their attitude when, after the beer jar had gone round four or five times, he remarked, 'I love die man – I will fight anyone who says different. But,' he leaned forward for emphasis, 'taking almost the whole of the British host is dangerous and foolhardy. He is grasping too high, is Maximus. Aye, but he always was a grasper.'

'Nothing good can come of it,' agreed Turl, CualTs son, who was now one of Elphin's battlechiefs. 'There will be much blood spilled over this, and for what? So Maximus can wear a laurel crown.' He snorted loudly. 'All for a handful of leaves!'

'They came through here OP the way to the docks at Londinium,' explained Elphin. 'The Emperor asked me to join him. He would have made me a governor.' Elphin smiled wistfully, and I saw how much that might have meant to him. 'I could not go -'

'You speak no Latin!' hooted Cuall. 'I can just see you in one of those ridiculous togas – how could you ever abide it?'

'No,' Elphin laughed, 'I could not abide it.'

Rhonwyn hovered near and refilled the jar from a pitcher. 'My husband is too modest. He would make a wonderful governor,' she bent and kissed his head, 'and an even better emperor.'

'At least I would not be tempted to go borrowing trouble beyond these shores. What's wrong with an emperor making his capital right here?' Lord Elphin spread his hands to the land around him. 'Think of it! A British emperor, holding the whole of the island for his capital – now, that would be a force to reckon with!'

'Aye,' agreed Cuall, 'Maximus has made a grave mistake.'

'Then he will pay with his life,' growled Turl. Bone and blood, he was his father's son.

'And we will pay with ours,' said Elphin. 'That is the shame of it. The innocent will pay – our children and grandchildren will pay.'

The talk had turned gloomy, so Rhonwyn sought to lighten it. 'What was it like with the Hill Folk, Myrddin?'

'Do they really eat their children?' asked Turl.

'Do not be daft, boy,' Cuall reprimanded, then added, 'But, I heard they can turn iron into gold.'

'Their goldcraft is remarkable,' I told him. 'But they value their children more than gold, more even than their own lives. Children are truly the only wealth they know.'

Rhonwyn, who had never born a living child, understood how this could be, and agreed readily. 'We had a little Gern that used to come to Diganhwy in the summer to trade for spun wool. She used thin sticks of gold which she broke into pieces for her goods. I have not thought of her in all these years, but I remember her as if it were yesterday. She healed our chieftain's wife of fever and cramps with a bit of bark and mud.'

'They know many secrets,' I said. 'Still, for all that they will not long remain in this world. There is no place for them. Already the tallfolk squeeze them out – taking the good grazing land, pushing them further and further north and west into the rocky wastes.'

'What will happen to them?' wondered Rhonwyn.

I paused, remembering Gern-y-fhain's words, which I spoke: 'There is a land in the west, which Mother made and put aside for her firstborn. Long ago, when men began to wander on the earth, Mother's children were enticed to stray and then forgot the way back to the Fortunate Land. But one day they will remember and they will find their way back.' I ended by saying, 'The Prytani believe that a sign will tell them when it is time to return, and one will arise from among them to lead the way. They believe that day is soon here.'

'The things you say, Myrddin,' remarked Cuall, shaking his grey head slowly. 'It puts me in mind of another young man I used to know.' He reached out a heavy hand and ruffled my hair.

Cuall was no great thinker, but his loyalty, once earned, was stronger than death itself. In older times, a great king might boast a warband numbering six hundred warriors; but give me just twelve like Cuall to ride at my side and I could rule an empire.

'How long can you stay, Myrddin?' asked Elphin.

'Not long,' I answered, and told him of my journey to Llyonesse and Goddeu for Avallach. 'We must leave in a few days' time.'

'Llyonesse,' muttered Turl. 'We have been hearing strange things from that region.' He rolled his eyes significantly.

'What strange things?' I asked.

'Signs and wonders. A great sorceress has taken residence there,' said Turl, looking to the others for confirmation. When it was not forthcoming, he shrugged. 'That is what I hear.'

'You believe too much of what you hear,' his father told him.

'You will stay the night at least,' said Rhonwyn.

'Oh, tonight, and tomorrow night as well – if you can find a place for me.'

'Why, have we no stable? No cow byre?' She wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged me. 'Of course, I will find a place for you, Myrddin Bach.'

The time passed far too quickly, and soon I was waving my farewell to Caer Cam, with only one regret – aside from not having enough time to spend there. And that was that I had missed seeing Blaise. Elphin told me that, since Hafgan's death, Blaise had been travelling a great deal and was seldom at the caer. He said the druid had told him there was strife within the Brotherhood and that Blaise had his hands full trying to avert bloodshed. Beyond that, Elphin knew no more.

The day after I returned from Caer Cam, we started for Llyonesse. Now I had never been to Belyn's realm in the southern lowlands, and knew little about it other than that it was Belyn's realm and that Maildun, Charis' brother and my uncle, lived there with him. The Llyonesse branch of the Fisher King's family was seldom mentioned; other than Avallach's hint of a longstanding disagreement between them – and that I had only recently found out – I knew nothing at all about what sort of man his brother Belyn might be, or what sort of reception we might expect.

We travelled through country in the first blush of summer, green and promising a good harvest hi time to come. It was a rough country, however, and grazing grass was short, the hills steeper, the soil rocky and thin. It did not boast the luxury of the Summerlands, or of Dyfed.

Thrust out like a ringer into the sea, Llyonesse, with its crooked glens and hidden valleys, was a wholly different realm from the Summerlands or Ynys Avallach. Sea mists might rise at any time of the day or night, the sun might blaze brightly for a moment, only to be veiled and hidden the next. The sea tang on the air made the breeze sharp, and always, always there was the low, murmuring drum of the sea – a sound distant, yet near as the blood-throb in the veins.