It was an act of defiance, I believe, to invoke the Great Light in that place, for I felt my heart stir as courage returned. In truth, I surprised myself at how much of these songs I could remember. Feeling a very bard myself, I sent those heaven-breathed words into the darksome wood:

The cords of the grave coiled around me

The snares of death confronted me.

In my distress, I cried to my God for help.

From his temple he heard my voice.

Wonder of wonders, even as I spoke those last words I saw a light shining in the wood: so pale and dim, I first thought I must have imagined it. I looked and the faint glimmer disappeared, but when I glanced away again, I saw it once more. I raised myself up and stared at the place – as if to hold it there so that it would not vanish again, leaving me alone in the dark. I could not see the light directly for all the trees and brush. Desperate to hold the fragile luminescence, I tried to remember the rest of Myrddin's prayer. How did it go?

And he gazed with…

No, no… that was not right. The pain in my leg drove out everything else. I could not think. I took a deep breath and forced myself to concentrate. In clumps and snatches the words came to me and I spoke them out.

And he looked down in his anger and said: Because their love is set on me, I will deliver them. I will deliver them from danger, for they know my name. I will be with them in times of trouble; I will rescue them from the grave, And bring them honour in my courts; I will satisfy them with eternal life to enjoy their rich salvation.

As I spoke, the faint radiance seemed to strengthen, gathering itself into a steady gleam like that of the moon on a mist-shrouded winter night. I thought that the light might yet break forth, but though I continued repeating the psalm over and over again, the fragile light remained a mere pearly glimmering, and beyond that did not increase.

After a time, I felt the winter chill seeping into my bones. My clothes were damp with sweat and the air was cold, and I began to shiver. Each tremble sent a jolt of pain through me, as it meant moving my leg. I clenched my teeth and willed the gently gleaming light to stay.

I do not know how long I lay there, shivering with pain and cold, grinding my teeth, and praying for that small, thin glow to remain. It seemed a long time, however – long enough for me to begin harbouring the suspicion that I had indeed lost both Gereint and Bors, and was now completely alone. Once this suspicion hardened into certainty, I decided to try to get up and move in the direction of the light.

Searching around me for a sturdy branch to use for a staff, I put my hand to a crooked tree limb; it was old and the rotten bark came off in my hand, but the wood was strong enough to support me, and so I used it to pull myself up onto my feet once more. My injured leg still throbbed with the slightest movement, but I clenched my teeth, steadied myself, and started off.

I found I could hobble only a few paces before the pain grew too great to bear and I must stop and rest. Then, after a few moments' respite, I staggered on. I saw that I was following the trail which the black beast had forced as it crashed through the wood. This made my passage somewhat less difficult, for I was able to steady myself against the fallen trees and broken branches.

Thus, by halts and starts, I proceeded along the narrow path. Despite the cold, I was soon sweating once more with the pain and exertion, my breath hanging in phantom clouds around my head. I listened all the while, alert to any sound in the forest. I strained to hear Gereint returning at any moment, or Bors. Or the black beast.

But no. I was alone. Again fear boiled up, but I swallowed it down and moved on, berating my companions for running off, as I supposed, after the horses. How I had come by this notion, I cannot say. Consumed by my own troubles, I had not spared a single kindly thought for them. Indeed, they could have been lying wounded or dead in the wood nearby and I would not have been any the wiser.

'Blessed Jesu, forgive a foolish man,' I sighed aloud, and then breathed a silent prayer for the safety of my friends. These thoughts and prayers occupied me as I staggered my slow way along the trail towards the faint moon-shimmer of radiance.

At long last, the trail turned slightly and I came to a huge bramble thicket – an infernally dense tangle of spiked vines and thorny branches. Had it been a rampart of stone, it could not have been more formidable. Yet the monstrous creature appeared to have crashed into this wall and, in its blind rage, driven a ragged gap into the close-grown tangles. Although I could not discern the source, the light seemed to be coming from somewhere beyond the hedge wall.

I leaned on my crooked staff, gazing at the thicket. The throb in my leg had become a steady pulse of pain, and my side felt as if live coals were smouldering under the skin. I was shivering with cold and pain, and sweating at the same time. I closed my eyes and leaned harder on my staff. 'Jesu, nave mercy,' I groaned. 'I am hurt and I am alone, and I am lost if you do not help me now.'

I was still trying to marshal my waning strength to attempt the hedge when I heard quick, rustling footsteps behind me. My first thought was that the monster had returned. This fear swiftly vanished at the sound of my name.

'Gwalchavad!'

'Here!' I called. 'Here I am!' I turned to stare back down the narrow path that had led me to this place. A moment later, I saw Gereint loping towards me, his face gleaming ghostly in the pale light. He carried a sword – mine, it was – and wore an expression of mingled relief and wonder.

'Lord Gwalchavad, you are alive,' he said as he joined me. Out of breath, he stuck the sword in the ground, and bent over with his hands on his knees. 'I feared you were – ' He paused, gulping air, then said, 'I feared I had lost you, but then I saw the light and followed it.'

Observing my leg, he asked, 'Is it bad?'

'I can endure it,' I replied. 'What of Bors? Have you seen him?'

'Not since the attack,' he answered.

'God help him,' I replied; then leaving Bors' welfare in the Good Lord's hands, I turned once more to the thicket. 'The light drew me here, too. It seems to be coming from the other side of this hedge wall.'

'We will go through together,' said Gereint. Taking up the sword, he stepped to the gap and began slashing at the briers. He cleared the path before us, and reached a hand back for me.

'Go before me,' I told him. 'I will follow.'

He peered at me doubtfully, then turned and resumed his chopping at the knotted branches. He hewed like a champion, slashing with tireless strokes. The vapour from his breath hung in a cloud above him, and his hair grew damp and slick, but he stood to his work, arms swinging, shoulders rolling as he hacked at the dangling vines.

I followed, hobbling a step at a time, as the hedge parted before Gereint's blade. In this way we proceeded, until…

'We are through!' Gereint declared triumphantly.

Glancing up, I saw the light shining through and Gereint standing in the breach, sword in hand. Whatever lay beyond the hedge wall occupied his complete attention.