For we passed through a wasted land: stunted, twisted trees; barren, rock-crusted hills and vacant hollows; stinking fens, vile bogs oozing like pus-filled wounds. In many places gaping rents had opened in the earth and these steamed with a noxious yellow mist that seeped along the trailways, obscuring the way so that we feared plunging headlong into one of the hell holes.

Nothing green showed. No bird called. No creature large or small made its home here any more. All was death and desolation – a ruined realm made hideous by the evil practised within its boundaries. It was beyond my imagining even to consider what might have caused such devastation. Whoever or whatever Morgian was, she apparently possessed a maleficent power above anything I might conceive.

Fear quickened like a viper in my breast, but I rode on, not caring any more what might happen to me. I prayed. I called upon the Great Good God to defend me. In silence I chanted the mighty psalms of strength and praise. I called down Jesu's grace upon that evil-blighted place.

Gwalcmai rode close beside me and we upheld one another. In whispered confidences I told him of Jesu, the Saviour God. And that son of Orcady believed. Whatever might happen to our bodies, our souls were safe in the Sure Strong Hand. There was some small comfort in that, at least.

Despite all, our steps grew slower, the way less clear. And then, when I thought we must abandon the track altogether, I saw a sea crag rising up just ahead, sharpsided, restless water surging around its jagged roots. Sea birds soared high above it and, strangely, many crows among them.

Carrion birds! By this I knew where Myrddin would be found. Alive or dead, I knew not, but our search had ended.

'Stay with the horses,' I told Gwalcmai. He made no reply, but dismounted and tethered the horses to a blasted stump. I left him sitting on the stump, with his drawn sword resting across his knees.

A prayer on my lips, I began the long climb up the rough headland, stopping to call out from time to time as I climbed. I expected no answer and heard none…

I found Myrddin perched on the topmost cliff, hunched upon a rock, his ragged cloak wrapped tightly round him though the day was stifling. Shattered scrags of heat-scarred stone lay heaped and toppled like ruins round about. He was alive, God be praised! And he turned his face towards me as I scrambled to him.

I beheld his face and nearly fell into the sea. His eyes – sweet Jesu! The eyes in his head were dead embers, cold, extinguished, the once-bright lustre of those matchless golden eyes leached white as ash!

His brows were singed, his lips blistered and cracked, the skin over his cheeks burnt and peeling. His hair was ragged and matted with blackened blood.

'Myrddin!' I ran to him, sobbing, half with relief to find him alive at all, and half for pity at what had been done to him. 'What has happened to you? What has she done to you?' I gathered him in my arms, like a mother cradling a dying child.

When he spoke, his voice was a harsh, brittle whisper forced out with great effort. 'Bedwyr, you have come at last. I knew someone would come. I knew… I thought it would be Pelleas… '

Pelleas! What had happened to Pelleas? I scanned the cliffside, but saw no sign of anyone anywhere.

'I have been waiting… waiting… I knew Arthur would… send someone… to me… Where is Pelleas?'

The pitiful sound of that fine voice, now broken, brought tears to my eyes. 'Do not speak, Emrys. Please, rest you now. I will care for you.'

'It is well… she is gone… '

'Morgian?'

He nodded and licked his bruised lips. This started the blood seeping down his chin. He struggled to form the words.

'Please, Emrys,' I pleaded, weeping freely. 'Do not speak. Let us go from here.'

Myrddin clutched at my sleeve, and his dead white eyes wandered unseeing in his head. 'No… ' he rasped. 'All is well… she has fled… '

I did not at first credit what he was telling me. 'Gwalcmai is with me; we have horses. Let us bear you away from this hateful place. She may return.'

'She is gone… her power is broken. I have faced her… Morgian is beaten… gone… she is gone… ' He shivered and closed his eyes, leaning heavily against me. 'I am tired… so tired… '

Swoon or sleep, it was blessed relief to him. With difficulty I carried him on my shoulders over the rocks and down to where Gwalcmai waited with the horses.

Gwalcmai shuddered upon seeing Myrddin. 'What happened to him?' he asked in a horrified whisper.

'I do not know,' I answered, bending the truth as far as it would go. How could I tell him Morgian, his blood kin, had done this? 'When he wakes he may tell us.'

'Where is Pelleas, then?' he asked, lifting his head to regard the sea crag once more.

'Perhaps Pelleas was delayed elsewhere. We will pray that this is so.'

Night came too quickly to that blighted spit of land thrust out into the sea. We made a camp in one of the pocked hollows and Gwalcmai dragged in enough dead wood to keep the fire through to morning. I found water and made a broth with some of the herbs we had among our provisions. This I heated in my clay bowl and roused Myrddin, so that he could drink it.

He seemed the better for his sleep, and drank down all the broth and asked for some of the hard bread we had. He ate it in silence, then lay back and slept once more.

I watched him through the night, but he slept soundly. Towards sunrise I slept while Gwalcmai watched, awakening a little while later. Myrddin stirred as we were making ready to leave.

'You must help me, Bedwyr,' he rasped, and I noticed his voice was somewhat stronger.

'I will do whatever you ask, lord.'

'Make some mud and bind my eyes.' I hesitated and he flung out a hand to me. 'Do as I say!'

With the water and clay I made some mud and daubed it over his eyes as Myrddin directed me. Then, tearing a length from my tunic, I bound his eyes, mud and all. Myrddin felt his bandages with his fingers and pronounced my work well done.

In this way we began the journey back – blind Myrddin sitting the saddle, erect, silent – Gwalcmai and I taking it in turn leading his horse, making our long slow return to the land of the living.

Three days later, at the end of our scant provisions, we passed out of Llyonesse. I did not look back. That melancholy land had left its dark stain on my soul.

Myrddin held his own counsel all the while. He sat upright in the saddle, straight and silent, eyes wrapped in the mud-stained cloth, his mouth twisting now and then in a grimace of pain – or loathing.

We journeyed through the day, and the night. When we finally stopped for rest, we had put a fair distance between us and the borders of that dismal, desolate land. I made camp near a stream and Gwalcmai killed two plump hares for our meal. These we roasted and ate in silence, too tired to speak. There was grass for the horses, and good water for us all.

Though the night was mild, I made a small fire – more for the light than the warmth. We sat together as the stars kindled in the deep autumn sky. Slowly night drew its dark wing over us, and Myrddin began to speak. In a voice as dry as winter husks, he began to declaim:

'Myrddin I was;

Myrddin I remain.

Henceforth all men will call me Taliesin.

'Earthborn am I,

but my true habitation is the

Region of the Summer Stars.

'I was revealed in the land of the Trinity;

and with my Father I was moved through the entire Universe.

I shall remain until Doomsday upon the face of the Earth,

until Jesu returns in triumph.

'Who is there to say whether my flesh is meat or fish?

For I was created from nine forms of elements:

from the Fruit of Fruits,