'Make no vow you cannot keep,' Myrddin declared. He had entered the chamber so quietly, no one noticed.

Arthur swung angrily towards this ill-opportuned interruption. Glaring at his Wise Counsellor, he drew breath to vent his rage anew, but Myrddin said, 'Morgaws, too, is gone. Or have you forgotten?'

I confess that I did not at first understand the significance of Myrddin's insistence. Preoccupied with what we considered far more weighty matters – such as the dire betrayal of the king by his own champion – what did the disappearance of a foundling guest matter?

Arthur stared hard at Myrddin. 'It can wait,' he growled at last. 'We have more important affairs before us – or have you forgotten?'

Impatient and angry though he was, he should not have said that last. 'Do I weary you with my prattling?' Myrddin demanded tartly. Drawing himself up full height, he took breath and let fly. 'I am a True Bard,' he said, his voice a very lash. 'If I speak, know that it is worthy of your regard, O Lofty King. Question me, if you will, but doubt me at your peril.'

'Peace, Myrddin,' Arthur grumbled. 'I meant no disrespect.'

But the Wise Emrys would not be appeased so easily. 'While you have been busy with your grand and glorious schemes, the secret enemy has quietly invaded the innermost treasure-room of your stronghold. Find Morgaws and you will find the Grail.'

Arthur gazed grudgingly at his counsellor – as if trying to weigh the implications of his next decision. 'Ready the Dragon Flight,' he said at last.

Bedwyr remained unconvinced. 'Do you think Rhys and I would have returned so soon if we had found anything? With so many people coming and going in the last days, it was impossible to see anything.'

'Might it be possible you were looking in the wrong place?' inquired Myrddin smoothly.

Bedwyr opened his mouth to protest, then clamped it promptly shut. He knew better than to argue with Myrddin when the Wise Emrys was in a mood to cross swords. Thus, we were very soon riding out from the Tor in force. At my suggestion, the king agreed to allow Peredur to lead the search. I knew and valued the young warrior's abilities as a tracker, and he was eager to be of service.

The day was no longer fresh when we set out, but our hopes were kindled when, upon reaching the lakeside, we found the tracks of one unshod horse leading away west. All of Arthur's horses are iron-shod, of course, and so are Avallach's. 'It might be Morgaws' mount,' suggested Peredur doubtfully. 'Then mercy granted those who were slain shall be granted the one who murdered them.'

Bedwyr glanced at Rhys uneasily. Clearly, they wanted to say more, but, owing to Arthur's poisonous mood, felt their intercessions were only making matters worse. In the strained silence, Cai and I took our places beside our swordbrothers and waited for the storm to break.

Twenty-three dead! The Grail gone!' the Pendragon roared suddenly, striking the back of the chair with his fist. 'My sword taken, and my queen abducted!' That was the first time I heard that word uttered, but no doubt he was right. The king glared around him, defying anyone to dispute his reading of events. 'Is that not the shape of things?'

No one made bold to answer. Arthur glowered murderously at us; I had never seen him so angry. 'You!' he shouted, pointing at Bedwyr. 'Have you nothing to say?'

'In truth,' intoned Bedwyr wearily, 'I thought we could not fail. We raised the trail at first light, but – '

Arthur cut him off. 'Save me your excuses. You failed.'

'Yes.' Bedwyr shut his mouth and stared ahead.

'A short while ago,' Arthur continued, pacing behind his chair like a caged bear, 'I told Avallach that his worst fears had been realized. He was against enshrining the Grail, but I persuaded him that it would be safe. I pledged my honour to it: 'The best men of the Dragon Flight will protect it. Nothing will happen to it.' But now – ' He glared at us with true contempt and loathing, and I felt the depth of his anger, restrained now, but dangerously close to flaring. 'Now it has been stolen by one of our own, and we are no closer to recovering it than we were when the alarm roused us from our beds. The blame will fall on me, and rightly so. But, God help me, I will not -'

'Make no vow you cannot keep,' Myrddin declared. He had entered the chamber so quietly, no one noticed.

Arthur swung angrily towards this ill-opportuned interruption. Glaring at his Wise Counsellor, he drew breath to vent his rage anew, but Myrddin said, 'Morgaws, too, is gone. Or have you forgotten?'

I confess that I did not at first understand the significance of Myrddin's insistence. Preoccupied with what we considered far more weighty matters – such as the dire betrayal of the king by his own champion – what did the disappearance of a foundling guest matter?

Arthur stared hard at Myrddin. 'It can wait,' he growled at last. 'We have more important affairs before us – or have you forgotten?'

Impatient and angry though he was, he should not have said that last. 'Do I weary you with my prattling?' Myrddin demanded tartly. Drawing himself up full height, he took breath and let fly. 'I am a True Bard,' he said, his voice a very lash. 'If I speak, know that it is worthy of your regard, O Lofty King. Question me, if you will, but doubt me at your peril.'

'Peace, Myrddin,' Arthur grumbled. 'I meant no disrespect.'

But the Wise Emrys would not be appeased so easily. 'While you have been busy with your grand and glorious schemes, the secret enemy has quietly invaded the innermost treasure-room of your stronghold. Find Morgaws and you will find the Grail.'

Arthur gazed grudgingly at his counsellor – as if trying to weigh the implications of his next decision. 'Ready the Dragon Flight,' he said at last.

Bedwyr remained unconvinced. 'Do you think Rhys and I would have returned so soon if we had found anything? With so many people coming and going in the last days, it was impossible to see anything.'

'Might it be possible you were looking in the wrong place?' inquired Myrddin smoothly.

Bedwyr opened his mouth to protest, then clamped it promptly shut. He knew better than to argue with Myrddin when the Wise Emrys was in a mood to cross swords. Thus, we were very soon riding out from the Tor in force. At my suggestion, the king agreed to allow Peredur to lead the search. I knew and valued the young warrior's abilities as a tracker, and he was eager to be of service.

The day was no longer fresh when we set out, but our hopes were kindled when, upon reaching the lakeside, we found the tracks of one unshod horse leading away west. All of Arthur's horses are iron-shod, of course, and so are Avallach's. 'It might be Morgaws' mount,' suggested Peredur doubtfully. 'Then again, there have been many visitors to the Tor of late. It could be anyone of them.'

'True,' Myrddin allowed, 'but did any of the visitors ride west in the last day or so? Can anyone say that they saw anyone riding alone?'

That was good enough for Arthur. 'Let us see where this leads. We will quickly discover whether we have made an error.'

Well, the trail was good to begin with, and we flew along the wooded pathways, confidence growing through the day, only to be cast down abruptly when it ceased. I do not mean that we merely lost the trail, for we did not: the tracks – those of a lone horse and rider – led us all the way around the lake, thereby avoiding the abbey, and then bent towards Shrine Hill. According to the tale of the tracks, the rider came within sight of the Grail Shrine but did not approach, paused, then moved off at speed east, in the direction of the wood.

We followed the trail without the slightest difficulty; the tracks were good and the dry ground took a ready impression. Eventually, the trail came to a small clearing in the wood where stood a stone; there the rider had stopped.