'You mean there is somewhere else he would rather be?'

Bedwyr favoured me with a knowing look. 'The mysterious Lady Morgaws.'

'Oh, aye,' I agreed. 'I have seldom seen anyone so afflicted.'

'Those who fly highest fall hardest,' Bedwyr observed, shaking his head slowly. 'Not that I know anything about it.' He paused, growing pensive. 'I can almost envy him.'

That evening at table, I watched for Llenlleawg and Morgaws, but neither of them appeared. I thought this highly suggestive, but if anyone else noticed their absence, I heard nothing about it. Then again, neither did Arthur or Gwenhwyvar join us for supper, and no one thought ill of that – why would they? The king and queen often took their supper in each other's company, and that is only right.

Still, I determined that a word with Myrddin would probably not go amiss. Also, I wanted to ask him what he thought about Arthur's shrine-building venture, and now there was the Grail Fellowship to discuss. Making quick work of my meal, I took myself off to find the Emrys – a chore far easier said than done, for it is a commonplace that Myrddin is seldom to be located where one first thinks to search. His errands are many, and as varied as they are obscure. One moment he is at the Pendragon's side, the next he is away to Caer Edyn in the north, or sailing back from lerna, visiting this lord or that one, consulting bishops and abbots, testing the wind for portents, delving into Druid lore… and who knows what else besides.

Consequently, it was not until very much later that I was able to find the ever-elusive Myrddin. 'A little sudden, this Fellowship – is it not?' I said, coming upon him as he poled the small boat to the shore. He had been fishing on the lake below the Tor, a pastime much favoured from his childhood, I believe.

'Is it?' Myrddin wondered. 'Walk with me, Gwalchavad.'

Taking me by the arm, he steered me onto the narrow lakeside path. Night was seeping into the still, quiet evening. The sky was fading gold, and the first of the stars were already alight.

'I think it sudden,' I replied.

'Whenever was there ever a better time?' he asked, stooping to pluck a reed from the bank. 'Must goodness stand forever in the shadows, waiting for her opportunity to shine?'

'Heaven forbid,' I answered. 'Yet it seems to me that no sooner have we made peace with the Saecsen than we are forced to fight the Vandali. And if that were not enough, we must also face a season of drought and plague which drives our people to abandon their homes and quit these shores for foreign lands. I had thought we had enough to occupy ourselves without…' -the words eluded me – 'without all this!' I waved my hand vaguely in the area of the Tor to signify what had taken place there.

Myrddin regarded me with his keen golden eyes for a long moment. When he spoke at last, he said, 'You speak my thoughts exactly.'

'Truly?'

'Does that surprise you?'

I confessed that it did, and said, 'But you are his Wise Counsellor.'

'Our king has a mind of his own, or have you never noticed?'

'Yes, but -'

'He is impatient!' Myrddin retorted before I could finish. 'He is impetuous and stubborn. I tried to tell him. "Wait just a little, Arthur," I said. "We have come so far. The quest is nearly at an end. It would be wrong to force our way now." Will he listen? No, he will not. "The Summer Realm is aborning, Myrddin," says Arthur. "We cannot hold it back. The world has waited long enough. It would be a sin to withhold that which can do so much good." And so it is as you have seen,' Myrddin concluded. 'He rushes from one thing to another, full of holy zeal and heavenly ambition. And no one can tell him anything, for he will not hear, much less heed.'

'What of Elfodd?' I asked. 'The king seems to have more than enough time for the good bishop. Perhaps Elfodd might prevail -'

'Save your breath,' Myrddin interrupted. 'Elfodd is just as bad as Arthur. After Arthur's healing, the bishop is convinced that the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand, and that the High King is God's instrument for establishing it here and now. It is hopeless; the two of them goad each other.'

'And Gwenhwyvar? Might the queen find a way to persuade her husband to reason?'

Myrddin sighed wearily. 'Ah, she might – if it were not that she had seen her husband lying at death's gate in this very place not so very long ago. Gwenhwyvar is only too pleased to have Arthur hale and whole once more, so, in her eyes at least, this overzealous Arthur is preferable to the other. No, she cannot bring herself to reproach him.'

Well, it was no worse than I suspected. Arthur, miraculously healed and delivered of his enemies for once and all, was suddenly ablaze with virtue and good works. Where was the harm? Who was to say he was wrong? Might not Arthur, the one to whom the miracle had happened, possess a keener insight? Might not the one who had seen the vision be best able to describe it?

'I thought the Summer Realm was earth and stars to you, Myrddin,' I said as we resumed our walk. 'I thought you wanted it above all else.'

Swift as a hawk swooping from the sky, the Emrys fell upon my remark. 'I do! I do!' he exclaimed. 'No one knows how much I crave it, nor what its advent has cost me. Truly, Gwalchavad, I desire it more than my life,' Myrddin said, growing solemn. 'But not like this.'

I waited for him to continue, and he did, after biting the tender end off the reed and sucking the juice. 'The Kingdom of Summer is near, Gwalchavad, nearer now than ever – of that you can be certain. But it will not be compelled. If we try to force it, I fear we can only do great violence to it and to ourselves. We have a chance now – a chance that may never come again – and my best instinct tells me we must proceed with all caution.'

'It does seem the soundest course,' I concurred.

'Ah, but what if I am wrong?' Myrddin murmured, and I heard the anguish in his voice. 'What if I am wrong, and Arthur is right? What if God's hand is on him to accomplish this great and glorious feat? To oppose it, even by so much as the merest hesitation, would be to hinder God himself. I ask myself: does God now perform his works in this worlds-realm only with Myrddin's permission?'

I let the question hang.

Myrddin continued, slashing the air with the reed in his hand. 'Can it be that I, who have laboured so long to advance the Summer Kingdom, cannot recognize it now that it is upon me? Is it possible that it is God's good pleasure to reward his faithful servants even before they have completed their labour?'

I did not know what he meant by this last statement, but before I could ask him, he declared, 'There is one certainty, or none at all: if this thing flows from God, nothing can stand against it.'

'And if it is not of God?'

'Then it cannot stand,' he concluded simply, flinging the reed into the lake.

Wise is Myrddin, and keen of insight. He had not only discerned the heart of my own feelings and perceived my objections, but offered lucid consolation as well.

Moving to the matter uppermost in my mind, I said, 'Have you discovered anything more about Morgaws?'

'Only that she is a noblewoman of Caer Uintan,' he replied, his face hard in the dusky light. 'Or so it is said.' I could almost hear the gates slamming shut to keep me out. Why? Ignoring his reluctance, I pressed on regardless.

'Llenlleawg seems to have reversed his opinion of her,' I observed. 'Before she disappeared, he could not abide her. Now that she has returned, he cannot bear to have Morgaws out of his sight.'

'Yes, it is all very strange,' agreed Myrddin.

'Is that all you have to say? You seemed more than concerned before.'

'Was I?'

That was all he said, but I suddenly felt foolish for having involved myself in matters that did not concern me. After all, if there was anything amiss, the Wise Emrys would know; ever alert to the subtle shiftings of power and the hidden meanings of events, Myrddin would know.