Gwenhwyvar brought with her a wedding gift: a tabled rotunda – a structure of cunning craft and of a design unknown in Britain. That is, she brought the builder's drawings for this edifice: five vellum scrolls of ancient age wrapped tightly in fine linen. These drawings had been treasured by the kings of Ierne through many generations. As far as is known, there is only one other rotunda like it in all the world, and that is in the City of Constantine in the east.

A strange gift, certainly, for a wedding. But appropriate for a Warrior Queen like Gwenhwyvar. She had conceived the idea while sojourning with the Fair Folk at Ynys Avallach where she came to know Charis, Myrddin's mother and daughter of Avallach the Fisher King.

Myrddin was given the task of overseeing the construction of the tabled rotunda; the Great Emrys was the only man in this worlds-realm with knowledge and subtlety enough to raise the building. This work became the cornerstone of Arthur's reign, and it was meet so to do.

Building also began at Caer Melyn, Arthur's southern capital, and at Caer Lial which he had taken for his northern seat. The High King decided that he would maintain two principal courts, so that Britain should remain united. Caer Lial, old Caer Ligualid, City of the Legions in the north, was a wise choice. It was on the Wall, yet also near a sheltered bay which could serve the fleet. Seven roads met there, allowing rapid travel to all parts of the Island of the Mighty.

Caer Lial, long abandoned, lay in grey ruins: streets silent, tumbled houses roofless, garrison yards weed-grown, doorways deserted, forum vast and empty. The people of the area had from time to time pulled down parts of its walls for building-stone, but mostly the once-proud city was left to its own slow decay.

It was to Caer Lial that I came with my father, Caw, lord of Trath Gwryd, who had his realm from the High King. He had brought me to serve with the Cymbrogi as he was beholden to do.

Trained as a bard since I could speak – though also learned in Latin – I felt my heart beat high with the thought that I might sit at the feet of the Exalted Emrys, Chief Bard of Britain. The day I arrived in the Pendragon's city is one I shall never forget.

My father and I rode down from Trath Gwryd with two of my older brothers who were also to join the Cymbrogi. Caw had nine sons and all but one served the Pendragon faithfully; at thirteen, I was youngest of all.

Caer Melyn was a stronghold of timber, but Caer Lial was a city of stone. A marvel of the stone-mason's craft, jewel of the north. Everywhere I looked, the brightness of Arthur shone in his fair city. Even the streets gleamed!

Once past the gates, we dismounted out of respect and led our horses through the city to the High King's palace – the former regional residence of an Imperial Legate, now restored. We were received by Cai, King Arthur's seneschal, who informed us that the Pendragon was away but expected to return at any time.

'I welcome you in the name of the Pendragon,' he said, 'and I accept the tribute of your sons, Lord Caw.' He gripped the arms of my older brothers, but ignored me altogether. 'We are ever grateful for good fighting men among the Cymbrogi.'

Caius ap Ectorius of mighty Caer Edyn was a champion many times over. Hair red as flame, and quick green eyes, he was a huge man, with a generous, open countenance which spoke of a guileless heart and an easy mind. Still, I reckoned, he would be a formidable foe in battle. A man to make his enemies curse the day of their birth. I felt weak and unworthy, just standing next to him. And this though I had been raised in a lord's house with warriors for brothers!

Cai summoned one of his stewards and, after my father's farewells, my brothers were led away to the warriors' precinct, opposite the enormous training field behind the palace. My father and Cai talked for a time, and eventually their talk turned to me.

'What of the Great Emrys?' my father asked. 'Aneirin here is also pledged to Arthur's service, but as he is a mabinog and will soon become a bard we thought the Chief Bard might sooner find a place for him.'

Cai clapped a hand to my shoulder, rattling my frame, and grinned. 'A filidh for Myrddin, eh? Splendid! I have been telling him he needs assistance. There is simply too much to do and Rhys unfortunately has not mastered the art of being in three places at once. It will be good to have you with us.'

I thanked him and plucked up what courage I possessed at the age of thirteen. 'If you tell me where he is, I will go to him and recommend myself with your blessing.'

Cai laughed at my presumption. 'Oh, you will do, boy. But the Emrys is not here. He is at work on the rotunda. He resumed work this spring as soon as the snow cleared the valleys, and vows that he will nowise return until it is finished.'

'If you will tell me where he is to be found, I will go to him and give myself to his service.'

Cai's grin became secretive. 'Oh aye, that is the problem, is it not – where is the Table Round?'

The whereabouts of Arthur's shrine was being kept secret. A holy place, it was to remain hidden from the world of men. Since part of its function was as burial vault for great warriors, the High King did not want its hallowed ground desecrated by curious wayfarers, or jealous pagans. He did not wish it to become a place of pilgrimage, for although a sacred site, it was to be first and foremost a sanctuary for the gallant who had given their lives for Britain, and so earned their blessed rest. Inasmuch as he also planned to be buried there at the appointed time, the Pendragon did not want its peace disturbed.

'It would not do to have just anyone about the place,' Cai continued, regarding me suspiciously. 'But if you are to be a help to Myrddin – '

'Lord Cai,' I interrupted, 'would it not be better to address the Exalted Emrys by his rightful title?' My impertinence was boundless!

'You think me insolent?' Cai folded his arms across his vast chest. 'Well, I tell you this, boy. If I make bold to speak his name it is because I have earned the right. Let us pray that when you reach my height and years you can do the same with me!'

My ears burned, as well they should. My father gave me a look of strong reproof. 'Forgive me, Lord Seneschal,' I replied meekly, my cheeks crimson with embarrassment.

Cai softened immediately. 'Still, if you are to be a help to Myrddin it is no doubt best for you to be where he is. Since he is not here, you must go there. It will be arranged.'

My father and I thanked him heartily, whereupon Cai said, 'In Arthur's name I extend to you the hospitality of the High King's hall. You will sup with us tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough to begin your journey.'

I remember almost nothing about that first night in Arthur's hall – except drinking too much wine before meat and falling asleep face down in my bowl. I awoke next morning in a strange part of the palace, near the kitchens, and found my way once more to the hall. The hall was empty, but I heard voices echoing from the doorway beyond and went out onto a portico to find my father and Cai saying farewell to one another.

With throbbing head I, too, bade my father farewell, and apologized to Cai for my embarrassing behaviour of the night before – whatever it had been. 'You will think me low and untutored,' I said, 'and I would not blame you. But I assure you I mean to be worthy of the honour of my service, Lord Seneschal.'

The big battlechief placed his hands on my shoulders and held my gaze with his eyes. 'Then be worthy, boy. No one stands between you and honour. Take it, seize it! It is yours if you want it.' And so it was.

I broke fast on bread and water – I could stomach nothing else – and I was given to the care of one of the Seneschal's stewards. My horse stood saddled and ready in the yard, so we left the city and rode north on the old Roman road into the Rheged wilderness. As we rode along, I learned that my companion's name was Tegyr. He had been a warrior once, but had lost his right hand in the Battle of Baedun Hill. Now he was Cai's chief steward and proud of it, for, as he said, 'I would have given my right hand anyway to serve the Pendragon. It is but small loss to bear.'