He spread his arms to the sun, and while he stood waiting for the bright rays to dry his clothes, he heard the most delightful music, and he turned to see a lady on a milk-white horse approaching a little way off. The music arose from a flute that she played as she cantered along the water's edge in the sweet, honeyed light of the rising sun. Her hair shone with the brightness of a flame, and her skin was firm and soft. Her limbs were fine and straight, her gown was yellow satin, edged in blue, and her eyes were green as new grass or apples in summer.

As she came near, she caught sight of Bran, standing alone on the strand, and she stopped playing. "I give you good greeting, sir," she said; her voice, so light and melodious, melted Bran in his innermost parts. "What is your name?"

"I am Bran Bendigedig," said he. "I am a stranger here."

"Yet you are welcome," said the lady. "I see that you are beguiled by the sight of this fair island."

"That I am," Bran confessed. "But no less than by the sight of you, my lady. If ever I boast of seeing a fairer face in all this wide world, may I die a liar's death. What is your name?"

"Would that you had asked me anything else," she told him sadly, "for I am under a strong geas never to reveal my name to anyone until the day of Albion's release."

"If that is all that prevents you, then take heart," Bran replied boldly, for the moment she spoke those first words in his ear, he knew beyond all doubt that the thing required to bring contentment to his restless heart was the name of the lady before him-just to know her name and, knowing it, to possess it and, possessing it, to hold her beside him forever. With her as his wife, his heart would find peace at last. "Only tell me who or what Albion might be," Bran said, "and I will achieve its release before the sun has run its course."

"Would that you had promised anything else," the lady told him. "Albion is the name of this place, and it is the fairest island known. Ten years ago a plague came to these shores, and it is this which now devastates the island. Every morning I come to the seastrand in the time-between-times in the hope of finding someone who can break the wicked spell that holds Albion in thrall."

"Today your search has ended," replied Bran, his confidence undimmed. "Only tell me what to do, and it will be done."

"Though your spirit may be bold and your hand strong, Albion's release will take more than that. Many great men have tried, but none have succeeded, for the plague is no ordinary illness or disease. It is an evil enchantment, and it takes the form of a race of giants who by their mighty strength cause such havoc and devastation that my heart quails at the mere mention of them."

"Fear for nothing, noble lady," Bran said. "The All Wise in his boundless wisdom has granted me every good gift, and I can do wonderfully well whatever I put my hand to."

At this the lady smiled, and, oh, her smile was even more radiant than the sunlight on the shining cliffs. "The day you deliver Albion, I will give you my name-and more than that, if you only ask."

"Then rest assured," replied Bran, "that on that very day, I will return to ask for your hand and more-I will ask for your heart also." The lady bent her shapely neck in assent and then told him what he had to do to release Albion from the evil spell and break the geas that bound her.

Bran the Blessed listened well to all she said; then, bidding her farewell, he started off. He came to a river that the lady had told him to expect, then followed it to the centre of the isle. For three days and nights he walked, stopping only now and then to drink from the pure waters of the river, for his heart burned within him at the thought of marrying the most beautiful woman in the world.

As the sun rose on the fourth day, he came to a great dark wood-the forest from which all other forests in the world had their beginning. He entered the forest, and just as the lady had told him, after walking three more days, he came to a glade where two roads crossed. He strode to the centre of the crossroads and sat down to wait. After a time, he heard the sound of someone approaching and looked up to see an old man with a white beard hobbling toward him. The man was bent low to the ground beneath heavy bundles of sticks he was carrying, so low that his beard swept the ground before him.

Seeing this man whom the lady had told him to expect, Bran jumped up and hailed him. "You there! You see before you a man of purpose who would speak to you."

"And you see before you a man who was once a king in his own country," the man replied. "A little respect would become you."

"My lord, forgive me," replied Bran. "May I come near and speak to you?"

"You may approach-not that I could prevent you," answered the old man. Nevertheless, he motioned Bran to come near. "What is your name?" asked the old man.

"I am Bran Bendigedig," he answered. "I have come to seek the release of Albion from the plague that assails it."

"Too bad for you," said the bent-backed man, straining beneath his load of sticks. "Many good men have tried to break the spell; as many as have tried, that many have failed."

"It may be as you say," offered Bran, "but I doubt there are two men like me in all the world. If there is another, I have never heard of him." He explained how he had met the noble lady on the strand and had pledged himself to win her hand.

"I ween that you are a bold man, perhaps even a lucky one," said the aged noble. "But though you were an army of likeminded, hardy men, you would still fail. The enchantment that besets Albion cannot be broken except by one thing, and one thing alone."

"What is that thing?" asked Bran. "Tell me, and then stand back and watch what I will do."

"It is not for me to say," replied the former lord.

Pointing to the road that led deeper into the forest, the old man said, "Go down that road until you come to a great forest, and continue on until you come to a glade in the centre of the wood. You will know it by a mound that is in the centre of the glade. In the centre of the mound is a standing stone, and at the foot of the standing stone, you will find a fountain. Beside the fountain is a slab of white marble, and on the slab you will find a silver bowl attached by a chain so that it may not be stolen away. Dip a bowl of water from the fountain and dash it upon the marble slab. Then stand aside and wait. Be patient, and it will be revealed to you what to do."

Bran thanked the man and journeyed on along the forest road. In a little while, he began seeing signs of devastation of which the noble lady had warned him: houses burned; fields trampled flat; hills gouged out; streams diverted from their natural courses; whole trees uprooted, overturned, and thrust back into the hole with roots above and branches below. The mutilated bodies of dead animals lay everywhere on the ground, their limbs rent, their bodies torn asunder. Away to the east, a great fire burned a swathe through the high wooded hills, blotting out the sun and turning the sky black with smoke.

Bran looked upon this appalling destruction. Who could do such a thing? he wondered, and his heart moved within him with anger and sorrow for the ruined land.

He moved on, walking through desolation so bleak it made tears well up in his eyes to think what had been so cruelly destroyed. After two days, he came to the glade in the centre of the forest. There, as the old man had said, he saw an enormous mound, and from the centre of this mound rose a tall, slender standing stone. Bran ascended the mound and stood before the narrow stone; there at his feet he saw a clear-running fountain and, beside it, the marble slab with the silver bowl attached by a thick chain. Kneeling down, he dipped the silver bowl into the fountain, filled it, and then dashed the water over the pale stone.