Upon reaching our chamber, however, we discovered someone waiting for us – Rhys, the young harper. His first words went straight to the matter on his heart. 'Does your lord have many fine harpers?'

'Good night to you, Rhys,' replied Merlin. 'Leave subtlety to the wind and waves, is that it?'

Rhys coloured at his own presumption, but did not back down. 'Forgive the impudence, lord. I speak only as one harper to another. And I would have your answer.'

The arrogance! He considered himself an equal to Merlin!

'Speak your mind, lad,' Merlin told him. 'Such reticence has no place among friends.'

Rhys blinked back witlessly and looked to me for help.

'You are being reminded of your manners,' I told him.

The young man blushed still brighter, but blundered on. 'Guile is most distasteful to me, my lord, I assure you. If that is what you mean.'

'Your directness is refreshing, Rhys. I stand admonished,' Merlin laughed. 'How may I serve you?'

'But I have already said.' He spread his hands helplessly.

'Then hear my answer,' replied Merlin. 'The lord I serve owns merely the cloak on his back and the sword at his side. He is gathering his warband and retinue now, it is true, but there is not a harper among them. It is a luxury he can ill afford.'

Rhys nodded, as if making up his mind. 'Then your Lord Arthur will require someone to sing his victories before the hearth.' The harp in Merlin's hands might have been an oar for all he noticed.

'I trust you will allow my Lord Arthur to content himself with first getting a hearth.'

'All the more reason,' declared Rhys triumphantly. 'How else will his renown increase sufficiently that men will esteem and follow him? Besides, I can wield a sword as well as I play the harp, and I am the best in all Benowyc at that. Ask who you will.'

Then I invite you to come with us, if nothing prevents you,' my master told the young harper. 'However, I think your lord will have a word or two to say in the matter. Indeed, from what I have seen, Bors is himself a lord worthy of his renown. No doubt your art would be far better rewarded here.'

'Lord Bors is indeed a worthy chieftain,' agreed Rhys readily. 'But he has four harpers to sing his praise, and… ' here was the source of his complaint to be sure, 'I am the least among them – in rank, mind, not in skill. They are jealous, and for this reason take no account of me.'

'I see,' Merlin allowed, pulling on his chin. 'Yes, that is a problem. And you think that with Arthur you might fare better. Is that it?'

'For a truth, it is,' Rhys agreed seriously. 'At least, I do not think I could fare much worse.'

'Then, if you are not afraid to ply the sword as well as the harp, I believe you might account yourself well received.'

We left the matter there for the night, and thought no more about it until the next day when, as we took our midday meal, Bors approached. 'God be good to you, my friends,' he called. 'I hope you are finding our simple fare to your liking.'

'You and your brother are most kind and generous. And, yes, the food is to our taste.'

'Good!' cried Bors, as if he had been waiting all day to hear it. 'That is very good.' He settled on the bench beside Merlin and helped himself to the bread and meat in the bowls before us.

'Now then,' he said, tearing the bread between his hands, 'what is this I am hearing about you stealing one of my bards?'

'Rhydderch told you about his plan, did he?'

'Will you take him?' Bors asked amiably.

'It is not for me to say,' Merlin explained. 'The decision will be yours and Arthur's – as I told the boy. Will you let him go?'

Bors chewed thoughtfully for a moment before answering. 'Although I am loath to lose a good harper, I am honour-bound to grant you your reward – '

'I have asked no reward,' protested Merlin quickly.

' – grant your reward for last night's song,' Bors continued. 'Why, half the realm heard the promise from my own mouth!'

'Please, you owe me nothing. I gave as I have been given.'

'Would you have it whispered about that Bors of Benowyc's word is worth less than the air it takes to speak it?' Bors shook his head gravely, but his eyes were merry. 'That would never do.'

'True… ' Merlin agreed slowly.

'So, you shall have Rhys, my Lord Embries,' said Bors, and added shrewdly: 'But I would be less than prudent if I let him go alone.'

'True again. What do you propose?'

'I propose to go with him. To make certain that the boy does not come to harm, you understand.'

'I see,' my master replied. 'By all means, please continue.'

'Of course,' said Bors, as he tossed a bit of meat into his mouth and licked his fingers, 'I could not go alone. As I am a friendly man, I would need my companions with me lest I become lonely.'

'To be sure, sojourning far from home often makes a man lonely.'

'A hundred of my best should suffice, I think. With weapons and horses for all, I should not be lonely then.'

Merlin laughed heartily and commended Bors' thoughtful-ness. Bors enjoyed his jest, but held up his hands, saying, 'You praise me too highly. I assure you, I am only looking to my own comfort in the matter.'

Ban and Bors had guessed why Merlin had come, and were not willing to see him demean himself by begging support which they were only too happy to provide. So, to save him the embarrassment – little did they know my master if they weened he would shrink from any deed in the advancement of Arthur! – the brothers made the offer of men and horses in this way. Nor did Merlin fail to recognize the gesture for what it was. He also acknowledged their prudence: every battle fought against the Saecsens hi Britain was one less to fight on their own soil.

'I tell you, Pelleas,' he said later, 'these men are first in hospitality and honour. Would that Britain's lungs were as well disposed to aiding Arthur.'

One purpose of our journey had been accomplished, and far more quickly than we could have hoped. Of the other purpose Merlin still had said nothing. The next day Ban conducted Merlin on a circuit of his realm, visiting the places deemed most likely to impress a stranger. I stayed behind to hunt with Bors, and we enjoyed long rides and evenings in the hall, good food and better wine, and the best of song.

The curious custom of the women – eating apart and joining the men in the hall for the entertainment – was observed on these occasions. So it was not until the third night that I saw her: a peerless maid, possessed of a rare and exquisite beauty.

She entered with the other women and found a place near the hearth. From the moment that I saw her sitting there – leaning forward slightly to hear the song, hands folded in her lap, eyes bright with joy and anticipation, lips framing a smile that spoke pure delight and a soul in love with life…

Bors saw my lingering glance, laughed, and said, 'Yes, she is beautiful, is she not? Her name is Elaine.'

Elaine! The name stirred within me such feeling that I lost all power of speech.

Elaine…

From the depths of my mind, the memory surfaced: of AvaJlach's four ships to escape the cataclysm that destroyed Atlantis, only three had reached Britain. The last, the fourth, had been lost…

Avallach had lost his son, Kian; and Belyn, my father, had lost his wife and queen: her name had been Elaine. Although my father never spoke about her, I had heard the story of the missing ship many times in his court.

I did not require further confirmation. By her stature, grace and bearing alone, I knew in my heart that the lady before me was of my race. I sat gazing at her, the realization making my head swim: Fair Folk in Armorica!

Could it be?

Bors mistook my stare for fascination, saying, 'You would not be the first man to succumb to the charm of a Faery maid.'