'Help us get him down,' I said, and explained that we had found him beaten and left for dead. 'He will recover, never fear. However, a few days' food and rest would not be wasted on him, I think.'

We hauled the unresisting Irishman down from the saddle, whereupon he seemed to come to himself once more, insisting that he could walk and would not be lugged into the hall like a sack of grain. He grew so adamant that we let him have his way. Truly, I think he had been nursing his strength for this moment; he was that proud he did not wish to be seen in his weakness by his swordbrothers, nor could he bear causing his beloved queen even a moment's worry.

As it happened, he need not have concerned himself. The hall was empty: no Cymbrogi to be seen, and few of Avallach's folk, either. Rhys, to all appearances, was king of the rock, and held dominion over the few who came and went. He called a command to one of the young Fair Folk lads I saw hurrying away on some errand; the fellow spun on his heel and raced to obey.

Had I given the matter more than a fleeting thought, I would have expected our arrival to occasion greater interest than we had so far received. 'Where is everyone?' I asked as we stepped into the empty hall.

'The plague has worsened in the southlands,' Rhys replied. 'Charis and most of the monks have gone to Londinium to join Paulus in the fight. Lord Avallach is at his prayers. As for the others, they will return when it gets dark.'

'Well and good,' I told him. 'But where are they now?'

Rhys called for the welcome cup, and then turned to look at me. 'I thought you knew.'

'How should I know?' I countered sourly. 'And unless someone tells me, I fear I shall die in ignorance.'

'They are at the shrine,' Rhys replied, as if we should have known.

'We saw no one at the shrine,' I told him bluntly, 'or I would not have asked.'

'Not that shrine,' Rhys said, 'the new one – Arthur's shrine. The king is building a shrine to the cup.'

Llenlleawg, flanked by the two young warriors, drew up beside us. 'What cup would that be?'

'The Holy Cup.' Rhys paused and regarded us dubiously. 'Do none of you know any of this?'

I reminded him that we had journeyed all the way from Llyonesse – on foot most of the way – and were not of a mood to appreciate riddles.

'It is to be the Grail Shrine,' Rhys announced tersely. 'The Pendragon has decreed a shrine to be built to house the Holy Cup, which he has taken as the sign and emblem of his reign. Arthur believes a great blessing will flow from this Grail to the benefit of Britain, and of all the world.'

'Is this the same cup that healed Arthur?' asked Peredur.

'One and the same,' confirmed Rhys.

'I know the cup you mean,' I said, as the memory came winging back to me as from a great distance. 'You mean to say that you have seen it?'

'No one has seen it,' Rhys replied, 'save Avallach, Myrddin, and, now, Arthur. Avallach knows where it is – he keeps it hidden somewhere, I think. Now you know as much as anyone else about it.'

The boy appeared bearing the requested welcome bowl. Rhys took it, raised it, spoke a word of greeting, and delivered the bowl into my hands. I passed it at once to Llenlleawg, and waited for the others to finish before taking it up once more. The ale was cool, dark, and frothy, soothing my parched tongue and throat like milk mixed with honey. I drank a long draught and, with great reluctance, passed it along once more. The bowl made the round again, and Rhys said he would have food brought so that we might refresh ourselves while we waited for the others.

'Now I must send for Myrddin,' he told us, preparing to dash away once more. 'He has spent the last three days telling everyone to bring word the moment you returned.'

'No doubt this new shrine has everyone occupied,' Tallaght mumbled, staring into the empty cup as into a fresh grave.

Alone with a dry bowl in a deserted hall, we sat glumly considering our sorry homecoming. Haggard and harried, grey with dust, bone weary, we wore every step of our peculiar journey on our clothes and on our faces.

'Well,' remarked Peredur, 'it is not as if anyone knew we would be returning just now. Even so…'

Llenlleawg, above remarking on his disappointment, said nothing, but closed his eyes and bowed his head, fatigued and dispirited. The one welcome he sought above all others – that of his king – and for which he had rallied his dwindling strength, was denied him, and exhaustion was rapidly overtaking him.

'There will be time enough for glad greetings,' I told them, trying to put a more favourable face on the thing. 'As for me, I can think of nothing better than a bite to eat and a quiet drink before meeting the others.'

The food arrived a few moments later, and upon sending the serving boy back to refill the bowl, we fell to eating, content with a little peaceful quiet to soothe our wearied souls. We ate in silence, and I was just reaching for a second barley loaf when I heard quick, purposeful footsteps enter the hall. I knew before raising my eyes to his greeting that Myrddin had found me.

'At last!' he said, gliding to the table in a single swift motion – like a hawk falling upon its unsuspecting prey. 'You have returned at last. Is the woman with you?'

'And it is Earth and Sky to see you, too, Wise Emrys,' I replied. 'I do hope you have fared well while we were away.'

He regarded me sharply, and dismissed my lacklustre attempt at scorn with an impatient flick of his hand. 'Tell me what happened.'

'I will, and gladly,' I replied. 'But it may be best if we permit my companions to leave now -1 know they are anxious to wash and rest.'

Myrddin's quick golden eyes turned to Llenlleawg, and he perceived in an instant what I meant. 'Forgive me,' he said, stepping smoothly to the Irishman's side. 'I have been too distracted to notice your distress. How can I help you, Llenlleawg?'

The champion raised his head and forced a waxy smile. 'I am well, Emrys. Only let me rest a little and I will greet my king and queen in a better humour.' He made to rise, but lacked the strength and fell back in his chair.

'Here!' said Peredur, jumping up. 'If you will excuse us, Lord Emrys, Tallaght and I will see to Llenlleawg.'

The two of them raised Llenlleawg between them. Too tired to pretend otherwise any longer, the proud Irishman allowed himself to be helped to his feet. Once steadied, however, he pushed away their offered hands and moved from the hall with a slow, sore gait. The young warriors respectfully took their leave and hurried off to the warriors' quarters to find a bath and change of clothes.

When they had gone, I returned to the table. Myrddin seated himself on the bench opposite me, folded his arms on the board, and leaned close. 'Now, then, there is no one to overhear,' he said, levelling his keen hawklike gaze upon me. 'Your confessor waits before you. Tell me everything.'

'There is trouble,' I told him bluntly. 'I cannot say what it is, but, Myrddin, I deeply fear it.'

I then began to relate all that had happened during our sojourn in Llyonesse, and it did me good, for I felt the burden lift from my soul as I told him about the strange trials we had endured in that godforsaken realm – from losing my horse in the false sands to our encounter with the beast in the night. Myrddin listened all the while, nodding to himself from time to time, as if the incidents I relayed confirmed something he already knew or suspected. At last I concluded, saying, 'That we escaped with only the loss of one horse is a wonder. Indeed, we were beset from the moment we entered Llyonesse. God save me, Myrddin, it is a desolate region – with but one settlement that I could see, and that a ruin.'