For her part, she seemed happy to journey with us, eating, sleeping, riding, acquiescing to her lot with grace and forbearance, as it seemed. Nor did anyone suspect Llenlleawg might be anything but happy with this arrangement. The tall Irishman was never given to complaining, true; he once fought an entire battle with a broken spearpoint in his thigh and no one knew of it until two days later, when he fainted while trying to remove the shard himself.

He is like that – a true son of Eriu through and through, and no one who knows him at all can ever claim to know what he will do or say next. In battle, a whirlwind is more temperate and a storm-gale more serene than is our Llenlleawg. Moody and restive as the ever-shifting waves that surround his soggy homeland he may be, but I will thump the man who speaks an ill word of Llenlleawg.

I tell this so you may know how it came about that no one spared a thought for the Irishman or his flaxen-haired companion all that long way south; Llenlleawg made no complaint, and the strange maid remained complacent the while. Nothing in the way either of them behaved aroused the slightest suspicion. Not even Myrddin, who is ever alert to the subtlest of signs and indications, found reason to express the slightest concern.

Consequently, it was not until coming in sight of the Tor that any of us had occasion to suspect that all was not well. Llenlleawg, who might have spoken sooner, let it slip that he thought the woman bewitched. He was answering Gwenhwyvar's mild inquiry, I think, and said, 'So long as she remains in sight of me, and I of her, she is meekness itself. Yet if I leave her side but a moment, she grows so distraught that it seems a wicked cruelty.'

'I am sorry,' replied the queen thoughtfully, turning her eyes to regard the stranger where she primly sat her horse a few paces away. 'In truth, it had escaped my notice.' As if sensing Gwenhwyvar's mild attention, the strange girl shifted in the saddle and turned her face towards us; the queen shivered and dropped her gaze.

'How do you sleep?' wondered Bedwyr, overhearing their talk.

'No matter where I lay my head,' Llenlleawg replied, 'she will not rest until she has put herself beside me.'

'You mean you sleep with her?' Bedwyr said, his voice rising in surprise.

'No more than you sleep with your saddle,' the Irish champion answered, glaring at Bedwyr for raising the question.

'Has she spoken to you?' the queen asked.

Llenlleawg shook his head. 'Neither word nor sound has she uttered.'

'I wish you had told me sooner,' Gwenhwyvar chided gently. 'But seeing we are so close to Ynys Avallach, I ask you abide but a little longer until we can seek the advice of Charts and the blessed Bishop Elfodd. I would trust them to know what is best to do.'

Llenlleawg said no more, and no doubt the thing would have proceeded in the way Gwenhwyvar had suggested, if not for the girl's odd behaviour. For as we drew nearer the Glass Isle and the abbey, the young woman fell further and further back in our ranks. When we at last reached the causeway leading to the Tor and Avallach's palace, she was nowhere to be seen. Though the queen asked after her, and many of the Cymbrogi remembered seeing her, no one knew where she had gone. A quick search of the ranks turned up neither clue nor hint of her passing. Apparently, the strange young woman had disappeared in full sight of all – and yet, no one had seen her go. It was as if she had simply faded away, leaving not the slightest trace behind.

Despite his lack of enthusiasm for the duty, Llenlleawg was abashed that he had failed in the simple task of looking after his charge. I suspect he was so relieved when she finally left his side, he simply turned a blind eye to her disappearance. We were in sight of our destination, mind. Who could imagine anyone straying away with the end of the journey so near?

Llenlleawg rode directly to find the missing woman, and even then no one doubted that we would soon see them both before the sun had so much as quartered the sky. Thus, we dismissed the matter from our minds, and were soon caught up in the gladness of our welcome. We had come to Ynys Avallach, after all, where all unhappy thoughts are banished like gloomy shadows from the trail when daylight strikes through the clouds at the end of day.

I confess, I never gave the matter a second thought until Myrddin remarked on Llenlleawg's absence the next day. I was admiring Avallach's horses in the stables. The Fair Folk's love of horses almost matches that of the Irish, and they breed a steed even our Eireann cousins could envy. I speak as a man who has spent more days on horseback than on my own two feet, so take it for a truth from one who knows whereof he speaks.

See, now: I stood stroking the long sleek neck of a handsome grey mare, when I heard the soft tread of a step behind me. I turned and Myrddin was beside me. 'They are a joy to behold,' he proclaimed, speaking to my thoughts. 'I am certain Avallach would be happy to let you ride one if you wished.' He paused, looking sideways at me in the way he has – as if looking through a body into the soul beyond – then he said, 'Perhaps you might like to take this one and go in search of Llenlleawg. He should have returned by now, and I cannot think he has lost his way.'

'No,' I granted, 'never that. But has it ever occurred to you that he may have decided to spend a night with a young woman? – beyond the gaze of prying eyes, so to speak.'

Myrddin flatly rejected my insinuation. 'Do you really believe he would defy his lord and queen to frolic in the forest with a maiden he has been charged to protect?'

'Well, I -'

'Something has happened to him,' he declared, 'or he would have returned by now.'

'I will take leave of Arthur at once,' I told him and started off. He caught me by the arm and stayed me.

'Take someone with you. Those who rode with you when you found the girl – who were they?'

Teredur and Tallaght,' I answered. 'They are with us still. I will fetch them.'

'Allow me,' Myrddin suggested. 'I will send for them. You can see to the horses.' He turned on his heel and strode from the stable, pausing at the door long enough to add, 'Swiftly, my friend; the trail is already cold.'

With the help of Avallach's stablemen, I soon had three handsome horses saddled and ready to ride. Peredur and Tallaght joined me as I was tightening the cinch on the grey I had chosen for myself. I hailed the two young warriors and said, 'It seems we are to be companions once more. Did the Emrys tell you what we are about?'

'No, lord,' answered Peredur. 'We were told to hasten to the stables to find you and bring these,' he said, indicating the bag of provisions they each carried.

'Well and good,' I replied. 'This is the way of it: the maiden we found in the forest went missing before we reached Ynys Avallach, and Llenlleawg was sent to bring her back. He should have returned by now. Myrddin has asked us to find them… or Llenlleawg, at least.'

'Are we to try the Fair Folk mounts?' wondered Tallaght, eyeing the animals appreciatively.

'Aye, lad,' I told him. 'If you can bear to sit such a beast.'

'We are your men, Lord Gwalchavad,' Peredur said happily. 'Lead us where you will.'

With that we were away, clattering through the yard and down the winding path to the marshland below. It was morning yet, and we passed a few monks toiling in the fields beyond the abbey. They sent us on our way with 'God speed you!' and 'Blessings of the day!'

Having seen Llenlleawg leave our company, I knew where to begin searching. Though the lake was low from the drought, the earth was still soft enough to take a fair impression, and indeed, we had no difficulty recognizing the distinctive crescent and bar of a war-horse's hoof. Arthur had long ago adopted the old Roman custom of affixing an extra crosspiece of iron to the horseshoe, which, though costly, greatly improved the usefulness of our mounts, especially on the battlefield. There was no mistaking one of the Pendragon's horses.