Arthur merely smiled and stood, taking his place in the centre of the circle once more. 'Lord Cai, fearless friend, I bend the knee to your humble entreaty.' Turning to the assembly, Arthur declared, 'Your approval of the Fellowship is as gratifying as your zeal is heartening. If I have not revealed my thoughts fully, it is for this reason: the Fellowship of the Grail is to be a true union of hearts and minds, and this, I am persuaded, can only be brought about by the willing dedication of those so called, and not by kingly decree.

'Therefore, I would that you, my noble friends, select from among your own number those who will determine the ordering of the Fellowship on your behalf. Holding that in mind, I urge you to pray, seeking wisdom, and choose your leaders well – for the rule they proclaim will be the law from this day forth and forevermore.'

In this I thought I saw the hand of Bishop Elfodd, or at least the example of a monastic order as a guide for establishing the Grail Fellowship. Be that as it may, Arthur gave no instruction about how we were to go about our determinations, and seemed unwilling to say more. Indeed, having delivered himself of his address, he took his leave of us, bidding us to proceed with our deliberations and bring him word when we had chosen our leaders.

Soon we stood in our circle, regarding one another with glances of shrewd and thoughtful appraisal. Here was an activity to which we men of war were least suited. The best that could be said was that, while it might have been an unequal battle, at least we did not down weapons and surrender the field. Shouldering our responsibility as best we could, we embarked on what amounted to a long and fruitless wrangle.

In the end, the Dragon Flight, unused to cultivating decisions of this kind, turned expectantly to their battlechiefs. First to speak was Bedwyr. Perhaps, as the one who enjoyed the High King's closest confidence, he had gleaned greater knowledge of Arthur's intentions than we had heard, for he said, 'Brothers, if you will permit me to break into your meditations, I would offer a suggestion.'

'Speak!' cried Cai, impatient to get on with the proceedings. 'By all means, we will be forever beholden to you. Unless someone takes the tiller, we will be circling these waters forever.'

Everyone laughed at this, and our burden was eased considerably. The stiff awkwardness of our high calling – as Arthur had deemed it – disappeared, and we became merely comrades with a duty to discharge.

'My suggestion,' Bedwyr continued, 'is simply this: that each man among us should declare three choices, and those whose names come most often to the lips of their comrades will scout out the path by which we are to proceed.'

A fine plan, I thought, but one of the younger Cymbrogi made bold to amend Bedwyr's proposal. 'If you please, noble lord,' he said, seizing his chance in the outcry of approval that followed Bedwyr's address, 'it is in my mind that the issue before us is both sacred and profound – and no less portentous than battle, where life and limb are placed at hazard beneath the rule of those who lead us.'

Leaning near to Cai, I whispered, 'He speaks well, this one. Who is he?'

'He is one of Cador's kinsmen,' Cai replied. 'He goes by the name of Gereint, I think.'

'Ah, yes.' I vaguely remembered the fellow, although, in truth, so harried were we in our battles against the Vandali, I had yet to fully acquaint myself with the more recent additions to our number.

Gereint continued: 'Thus, I would gladly submit in peace to those I willingly trust in the heat of the fight. Perhaps I may be so brazen as to propose that we bestow the honour of ordering this Fellowship upon those to whom we have already sworn our loyal submission, namely, the Pendragon's battlechiefs.'

Well, the proposal was carried forth on a rolling wave of noisy enthusiasm. Bedwyr's eminently sensible, if less valiant, suggestion was forgotten in the eager rush to advance the proposition. The Cymbrogi gave voice to the plan, and all departed in high spirits, assured at having discharged their duty properly and well – all, that is, save the five battlechiefs who were now saddled with the task: Bedwyr, Cai, Cador, Llenlleawg, and me.

What happened next shames me to confess, so I will simply say that we fell to long and fevered discussion about how the thing should be accomplished. Oh, it was thirsty work, too, for as the day drew on and the weighty task conspired to steal our strength, we sought refreshment in Avallach's good ale – a dubious remedy, perhaps, but if it did little to ease the burden of decision, at least it helped us think better of our chore – for a short while anyway.

After a long, wandering discussion, we arrived once more precisely where we had started. Taking Arthur at his word, we framed this modest proposition: that the Most Holy Grail, rarest of treasures, must be guarded. 'That means,' Cai maintained over the rim of his bowl, 'a perpetual guard.'

'Well and good,' replied Bedwyr. 'But the Grail Fellowship is to be more than guard duty. Arthur said it is to be a sacred calling -'

'We are to protect pilgrims and wayfarers, too,' Llenlleawg pointed out. 'That means we must have warbands to ride the land.'

'He did not say anything about riding the land,' said Cador.

'He said very little at all,' retorted Bedwyr, growing impatient.

'What is so difficult?' demanded Cai. 'We are given a free hand to order the Fellowship how we will, and all you can do is find fault with Arthur for allowing us the honour.'

'The onus, you mean,' muttered Cador.

'Onus!' Cai flapped an impatient hand at Cador, who took a deep draught of the cup. 'Man, where do you get such words?'

'It is Latin,' Cador informed him loftily.

'Are we to be monks now,' Llenlleawg inquired sourly, 'spouting Latin and psalms at one another?'

'A sad day has dawned when a man cannot say what he thinks,' sniffed Cador into his cup.

'And I say: give me a sword and I will guard this Grail,' Llenlleawg declared.

'See! See!' cried Cai, almost upsetting the ale jar in his eagerness to clap Llenlleawg on the back. 'Llenlleawg agrees -the Holy Cup must be guarded. We are to be Guardians of the Grail.'

'Easy, brother,' Bedwyr said, saving the jar. He poured another draught and took a long pull from the bowl and put it down with a thump. 'I say we have talked enough for one day.' He pressed his fingertips to his temples. 'My head hurts.'

Drink and frustration had worn us down, and tempers were beginning to fray at the edges. I did not like to see my swordbrothers quarrelling, so determined to end the discussion before we were at one another's throats. 'I agree with Bedwyr -we have talked enough for one day,' I suggested. 'Let us part while we are still friends and come at this again tomorrow.'

'Aye, and what do you suggest we tell the king?' asked Cai. 'Arthur is awaiting word from us.'

'Tell him,' I replied, 'that our deliberations are well begun, but that a duty of such significance takes time – a day or two more at most, I should think.'

The others liked the sound of that, and agreed that another day or two should give us ample time to complete our task. It was decided that we should come together again the following morning with a mind to setting matters to rights. Cai hastened away to tell Arthur, and Cador retreated to his bed for a nap; Llenlleawg quickly departed on errands of his own, leaving Bedwyr and myself to contemplate the ruin of the day.

'We must finish tomorrow,' Bedwyr confided. 'I could not bear two more days like this. Is everyone always so contentious?'

'Always,' I assured him.

He shrugged. 'I never noticed before.' Looking towards the empty doorway through which Llenlleawg had just disappeared, Bedwyr said, 'Our Irish friend has something on his mind.'