While there were still many people waiting in the gathering twilight, we had no choice but to declare the shrine closed. Bedwyr told the people the Grail Shrine would open again at dawn, and the attending monks bade those in need to come to the monastery for food and shelter. One old man became agitated at this announcement and began shouting. 'I have waited all day!' he said. 'I cannot wait any longer.'

'Just until tomorrow, friend,' said the monk firmly, but not unkindly.

'Tomorrow will be too late,' the man insisted, his voice and shoulders shaking with the effort. He carried a long stick, which he leaned on for support. 'Please, I must see the Cup of Christ tonight.'

'Come to the abbey and we will take care of you,' the monk told him. 'You can come back in the morning.'

'I am old and sick. I may die tonight!' the man said stubbornly, and turned to appeal to Bedwyr. 'You there! You are the king's man – you can let me see the cup before I die. Please!'

The monk took hold of the old man's arm and made to lead him away. Bedwyr intervened, however. 'Wait! Let him in. But no more today – he will be the last.'

The monk relented and led the old man forward. They entered the shrine and Bedwyr undertook to inform all the other visitors that food would be provided at the abbey for any who required it, and that they were welcome to return to the shrine at dawn, when they would be cheerfully admitted. The people muttered over this, but accepted their lot and began making their way down the hill to the valley below, where most of them would spend the night.

The rest of us, meanwhile, fell to discussing who should make up the watch for the night. We quickly chose the guard and informed Bedwyr when he rejoined us; a moment later, the old man emerged from the shrine. He walked directly to Bedwyr, seized his hand, and kissed it, saying, 'Bless you, son. Bless you. Bless you,' ducking his head with each benison. 'I can die a happy man,' he said, and then walked away, carrying his stick in his hand.

'A friend for life,' Cai observed. 'Now let us be gone.'

Llenlleawg wished us a restful sleep in our good, soft beds, and bade us remember him his supper. He then urged us to haste lest he starve before the food should reach him.

We promised to send his supper along with those who were to take the watch with him that night, whereupon Bedwyr, Cai, and I rode back to Ynys Avallach. We passed through the gate to find the yard alight with torches and filled with people and horses. 'Someone important has come,' one of the Cymbrogi told me as I dismounted.

'Who?' I asked, but he did not know.

Thinking it might be Gwalcmai, I threw the fellow the reins and commanded him to take care of my mount. While Bedwyr called for volunteers to stand guard duty, I ran to the hall to welcome, not my brother, alas, but someone almost as dear and good to me: Bors.

See now: I have known Bors for a long time. He and his brother, King Ban of Benowyc, were among the first of the Pendragon's advocates. Having supported Aurelius and Uther -Arthur's father and uncle, the first High Kings of Britain – they had aided the young Dux Britanniarum in his struggles to unite the lords of Britain and conquer the Saecsens. For Bors, that meant more than merely providing men; he had joined the Cymbrogi and lent his sword to the cause.

For seven years he, like all the rest of us, fought alongside Arthur. Following the defeat of the Saecsens at Baedun, and Arthur's kingmaking and wedding, Bors returned home to help his brother out of some difficulty or other. Summoned from Armorica to help fight the Vandali, he had at last arrived – just in time to help celebrate the enshrinement of the Grail – and now stood drinking ale and laughing with Arthur and Gwenhwyvar. 'If you could not resist finishing off the Black Boar,' the prince of Benowyc was saying, 'you might at least have saved one of his piglets for me. Here I have come to feast on pork – only to be given cakes and ale instead.'

'Did you think to fight the Vandali alone?' I remarked, striding up beside him.

'Where is your warband?' asked Bedwyr.

'Welcome, brother,' said Cai. 'We feared your pilot had lost his way on that ocean of yours.'

'Gwalchavad! Bedwyr! Cai!' he shouted with husky heartiness, embracing us with his free hand. 'Bless me, but it is good to see you again. I tell you the truth, we met Arthur's messenger halfway, so I sent the warriors home and came on alone.'

He did not say it, but with Britain sore beset by plague and drought, no doubt it was safer for his men to remain in Armorica. Turning to Arthur, he said, 'I am heartily sorry I could not come to you sooner, Bear. But the Frencs grow ever more contentious and will not be appeased so easily as in the past. We had our hands full through the summer, I tell you. Still, Ban would have me beg your pardon for the delay.'

'There is no need,' said Arthur, waving aside the apology. 'Tell me, how fares your brother?'

'Ban sends his greetings to one and all, and asks to be remembered by his former swordbrothers. As ever, he is desirous of coming to Britain one day soon, "when kingly duties weigh less heavily upon the crowned head," as he says.'

'If that is the case,' I ventured, 'then he will likely remain in Benowyc forever. I have never known a man so able at producing work out of thin air.'

'Too true,' agreed Bors. 'I tell him the same thing myself, but he can always find a thousand things begging to be done, and it is "Who will do them if I leave?" and thus he keeps himself busy year to year.' Turning to Arthur, he said, 'Now, then, what am I hearing about this Grail of yours?'

'It saved Arthur's life,' Gwenhwyvar replied. 'If not for the Grail, Britain would be in mourning now. The Holy Cup healed his wounds and restored his life.'

'Then it is true?' Bors wondered, turning wide eyes towards Arthur. 'From the moment we made landfall, I have heard nothing but talk of this Holy Grail. I thought it must be one of those peculiar rumours that surface from time to time – like that enormous serpent living in the lake up north.'

'Afanc,' I told him. 'I know a man who saw it snatch one of his cows from the shore of the lake where it was grazing. I myself have seen it.'

'The serpent?' asked Bors in astonishment.

'No, the lake.'

They all laughed at this, and Bors thrust the cup into my hands. 'Drink, brother! Ah, but it is good to be back among true friends.'

Rhys arrived while Bors was speaking and whispered something to the king. 'I fear, Lord Bors,' said Arthur, 'Gwenhwyvar and I have been called away. We must speak to Myrddin before he disappears again. But you will sit with me at table tonight,' Arthur promised, 'and I will tell you all about the battles you have missed.'

The Pendragon and his lady moved away then, and Bedwyr made excuses, too, saying he must see to the night watch and supper for Llenlleawg. He hurried off to order the Cymbrogi, leaving Cai and me to help Bors with the welcome cup. 'Where is our Irishman?' wondered Bors.

'At the shrine,' I answered, and went on to explain about the Fellowship of the Grail. 'We each take it in turn to guard the shrine,' I concluded. 'It was Llenlleawg's bad luck to draw the short straw – he has the watch tonight.'

'Alone?' asked Bors, passing the cup to me.

'Nay,' replied Cai, 'there are eight Cymbrogi with him – or soon will be – so he will not lack for company.'

'When did you arrive?' I asked, taking a drink and passing the cup to Cai.

'At midday, just,' Bors replied. His features grew keen. 'But tell me, have you seen this Grail?'

'Man,' Cai hooted, 'for three whole days I have done little else save stand beside it from dawn to dusk.'

'Where is this shrine?' Bors asked, excitement growing. 'Take me.'