That he should appear now upset and angered me. He was the last person I wanted to see in this place. In my eyes, his presence profaned the sacred ground. How he had managed to worm his way into the company of men the like of Bedwyr, Bors and Cai, champions of Britain, I will never know. Unless, and this was close to the truth, Medraut hid his true nature from them.

'Hail, Myrddin Emrys!' called Cai. 'What remedy for a throat parched by the road?'

'Caius, God love you, I stand ready with the jar.' The Emrys stooped and retrieved the vessel at his feet and advanced to the three with cup in hand. He gave the cup to Cai and poured from the jar.

'Water!' shrieked Cai.

'Cold and clean from the spring below the hill,' replied the Emrys. 'Good for body and soul alike.'

Bedwyr savoured Cai's distress. 'Drain the cup, brother. We are thirsty, too.'

'Go on,' jeered Bors, 'it will not rust your belly.'

Medraut swaggered up, laughing. He slapped Cai on the back as if he were a true sword brother. 'Could it be the mighty Cai is affrighted of a little holy water?' he crowed.

Cai stiffened slightly and cast a baleful eye upon Medraut. The young tyrant laughed the merrier and leaned on Cai's arm. 'A jest, brother! A jest! Like Bedwyr here, I meant nothing by it.'

Cai muttered and stared at the cup. Then he lifted it and drained it in one motion, thrust the cup into Medraut's hands and stalked off. 'You went too far with that,' Bors told him flatly.

'Ha! It is but a small thing,' observed Medraut cheerily, 'he will soon forget it.'

'Perhaps,' said the Emrys sternly, 'but your jest is not welcome in this place. The hill is consecrated to a different god. Remember that.' He gave the jar to me and strode after Cai.

The smile never left Medraut's face, but as the cup was refilled and drained in turn his eyes watched as warily as any stalking wolfs. His fingers brushed my hand as I poured out his water and his touch made my flesh creep.

Later in the day, the High King and his retinue arrived, led by Gwalchavad and Llenlleawg. To my surprise Gwenhwyyar was with them, as she also would attend the council. 'I see that Gwalcmai has not come,' Arthur said. 'Well, we will begin the council and perhaps he will yet appear.'

They gathered straightway in the rotunda, and I began picketing the horses. Medraut was instructed to wait below the hill and help me with the tents and beasts, but this he would not do. I did all the work while he roamed around the hillside and along the stream. He appeared to be searching for something but, as I was glad not to have to speak to him, I let him go his way.

Dusk was gathering in the valleys and the hilltops flared as if a golden beacon fire kindled every one. Dark clouds gathered in the east, coming with the night; and I smelled rain on the wind as I finished watering the horses. The council had just emerged from the rotunda and were walking down the hill when I heard the drum of hoofbeats on the sand. I ran to the overlook and saw two horses approaching swiftly by way of the strand. I turned and ran up the hill to tell the others.

'Gwalcmai!' I cried, 'Gwalcmai is coming!'

Bors and Gwalchavad stood on the hillside and quickly turned to look where I pointed. That is Gwalcmai,' con-finned Gwalchavad. 'But who is with him?'

'I cannot tell from this distance,' Bors said. 'But he sits a light saddle.'

'It is a woman,' observed Gwenhwyvar.

'Trust Gwalcmai to bring a woman with him,' scoffed Cai.

'And what is wrong with that?' demanded the queen.

'Who can it be?' wondered Bedwyr. He glanced over his shoulder at Myrddin, who had just stepped from the rotunda. The Emrys halted. His limbs became rigid as stumps.

The riders came under the lea of the hill and passed briefly out of sight. A moment later they were pounding up the hillside and I could see them clearly. The rider with Gwalcmai was indeed a woman: dressed all in black and sable, her face covered by a veil.

Gwalcmai held the reins of her horse tightly in his hand. Something about the way he led her told me the woman was his prisoner.

A sensation of deep dread stole over me. The skin crawled on the back of my neck. I knew danger and death to be very close. Glancing at Medraut, I saw a thin smile curl his full lips and the sight chilled me to the marrow.

The Emrys glanced at Arthur and flung out a hand to him, bidding him stay behind. His eyes on the pair before him, the Pendragon did not see the warning and moved closer. The others gathered before the horses as Gwalcmai reined up and dismounted.

'Greetings, brother!' called Gwalchavad. His welcome died in the still air and was not repeated.

Gwalcmai moved to his prisoner, pulled her roughly from the saddle, and stood her on her feet. Gripping her tight by the arm, he dragged his prisoner before the High King.

'Who is this woman and what has she done that she is treated so?' demanded the Pendragon.

'She is an enemy, Lord Arthur,' replied Gwalcmai. 'I have brought her to brave the justice she has so long eluded.' With that he raised his hand, lifted the veil and pulled the hood from her head. It was…

The Lady of the Lake!

But no… Even as I gazed in stunned surprise at the woman before me, I saw that it was not Charis, but someone very like her. Beautiful she was, undeniably beautiful, but hard as chiselled stone. Hate seethed within her and flowed out from her like venom from a serpent's bite.

I glanced to the Emrys, seeking his reassurance. But I saw him grim and distant. Like a wild animal caught in a snare, he seemed frightened and uncertain whether to flee or fight. The appearance was so unnatural to him that I turned my face away at once and did not look back.

'An enemy?' wondered Arthur.

'Even an enemy is allowed some dignity,' Gwenhwyvar said sharply. 'Release her, Gwalcmai. We are not barbarians.'

The warrior did as he was bade and loosed his hold. The woman drew herself up and stared boldly into the eyes of the king, who asked, 'Who are you, woman?'

'O, Great King,' she replied, in a voice as cold and hard as heartless steel, 'this man,' she spat the word, 'demeans me with slander. He calls me traitor. Where is my treason? I demand to know why I have been brought here.'

'You have been brought here to answer the accusations against you,' Gwalcmai told her, 'and to confront the High King's justice.'

'Accusations?' the woman mocked. 'I have heard no accusations. You know nothing of me.'

'But I know you, Morgian,' replied Myrddin, his voice taut and low.

The Emrys stepped forward. Bedwyr laid hold of him, crying, 'No! Myrddin, for the love of Jesu, do not do it!'

'It is before me,' the Emrys told him, laying aside Bedwyr's hand. The High Ring made bold to stay him. 'Peace, Arthur. It is my time. Trust God.'

I heard his voice, strange and taut. I turned and gasped at what I saw, for the Emrys had visibly changed. The fear I had seen in him had vanished utterly and he seemed to have grown larger. He now loomed over us with great and terrible strength, golden eyes blazing with a fearful light.

He advanced to where Morgian stood and faced her. She lowered her head and parted her lips in a smile both beguiling and dire. My knees went weak to see it.

'Oh, I know you well, Morgian. You were ever a seducer with lies. Long have you fought against the True God and his servants, but I tell you this day your fight is ended.'

'Is this the crime you lay against me?' she scoffed. 'Where is the hurt? Where is the injury? Who have I wronged but your weak and fallible god? If he is so easily injured by the trivial actions of a mortal, let him come before me now and declare it!'

Oh, she was quick and subtle. She appeared at once so unjustly wronged that I believed her. The others wavered in their conviction. Myrddin alone remained steadfast.