Grail pc-5

by Stephen R. Lawhead

  'I am sorry,' replied the queen thoughtfully, turning her eyes to regard the stranger where she primly sat her horse a few paces away. 'In truth, it had escaped my notice.' As if sensing Gwenhwyvar's mild attention, the strange girl shifted in the saddle and turned her face towards us; the queen shivered and dropped her gaze.

  'How do you sleep?' wondered Bedwyr, overhearing their talk.

  'No matter where I lay my head,' Llenlleawg replied, 'she will not rest until she has put herself beside me.'

  'You mean you sleep with her?' Bedwyr said, his voice rising in surprise.

  'No more than you sleep with your saddle,' the Irish champion answered, glaring at Bedwyr for raising the question.

  'Has she spoken to you?' the queen asked.

  Llenlleawg shook his head. 'Neither word nor sound has she uttered.'

  'I wish you had told me sooner,' Gwenhwyvar chided gently. 'But seeing we are so close to Ynys Avallach, I ask you abide but a little longer until we can seek the advice of Charts and the blessed Bishop Elfodd. I would trust them to know what is best to do.'

  Llenlleawg said no more, and no doubt the thing would have proceeded in the way Gwenhwyvar had suggested, if not for the girl's odd behaviour. For as we drew nearer the Glass Isle and the abbey, the young woman fell further and further back in our ranks. When we at last reached the causeway leading to the Tor and Avallach's palace, she was nowhere to be seen. Though the queen asked after her, and many of the Cymbrogi remembered seeing her, no one knew where she had gone. A quick search of the ranks turned up neither clue nor hint of her passing. Apparently, the strange young woman had disappeared in full sight of all – and yet, no one had seen her go. It was as if she had simply faded away, leaving not the slightest trace behind.

  Despite his lack of enthusiasm for the duty, Llenlleawg was abashed that he had failed in the simple task of looking after his charge. I suspect he was so relieved when she finally left his side, he simply turned a blind eye to her disappearance. We were in sight of our destination, mind. Who could imagine anyone straying away with the end of the journey so near?

  Llenlleawg rode directly to find the missing woman, and even then no one doubted that we would soon see them both before the sun had so much as quartered the sky. Thus, we dismissed the matter from our minds, and were soon caught up in the gladness of our welcome. We had come to Ynys Avallach, after all, where all unhappy thoughts are banished like gloomy shadows from the trail when daylight strikes through the clouds at the end of day.

  I confess, I never gave the matter a second thought until Myrddin remarked on Llenlleawg's absence the next day. I was admiring Avallach's horses in the stables. The Fair Folk's love of horses almost matches that of the Irish, and they breed a steed even our Eireann cousins could envy. I speak as a man who has spent more days on horseback than on my own two feet, so take it for a truth from one who knows whereof he speaks.

  See, now: I stood stroking the long sleek neck of a handsome grey mare, when I heard the soft tread of a step behind me. I turned and Myrddin was beside me. 'They are a joy to behold,' he proclaimed, speaking to my thoughts. 'I am certain Avallach would be happy to let you ride one if you wished.' He paused, looking sideways at me in the way he has – as if looking through a body into the soul beyond – then he said, 'Perhaps you might like to take this one and go in search of Llenlleawg. He should have returned by now, and I cannot think he has lost his way.'

  'No,' I granted, 'never that. But has it ever occurred to you that he may have decided to spend a night with a young woman? – beyond the gaze of prying eyes, so to speak.'

  Myrddin flatly rejected my insinuation. 'Do you really believe he would defy his lord and queen to frolic in the forest with a maiden he has been charged to protect?'

  'Well, I -'

  'Something has happened to him,' he declared, 'or he would have returned by now.'

  'I will take leave of Arthur at once,' I told him and started off. He caught me by the arm and stayed me.

  'Take someone with you. Those who rode with you when you found the girl – who were they?'

  Teredur and Tallaght,' I answered. 'They are with us still. I will fetch them.'

  'Allow me,' Myrddin suggested. 'I will send for them. You can see to the horses.' He turned on his heel and strode from the stable, pausing at the door long enough to add, 'Swiftly, my friend; the trail is already cold.'

  With the help of Avallach's stablemen, I soon had three handsome horses saddled and ready to ride. Peredur and Tallaght joined me as I was tightening the cinch on the grey I had chosen for myself. I hailed the two young warriors and said, 'It seems we are to be companions once more. Did the Emrys tell you what we are about?'

  'No, lord,' answered Peredur. 'We were told to hasten to the stables to find you and bring these,' he said, indicating the bag of provisions they each carried.

  'Well and good,' I replied. 'This is the way of it: the maiden we found in the forest went missing before we reached Ynys Avallach, and Llenlleawg was sent to bring her back. He should have returned by now. Myrddin has asked us to find them… or Llenlleawg, at least.'

  'Are we to try the Fair Folk mounts?' wondered Tallaght, eyeing the animals appreciatively.

  'Aye, lad,' I told him. 'If you can bear to sit such a beast.'

  'We are your men, Lord Gwalchavad,' Peredur said happily. 'Lead us where you will.'

  With that we were away, clattering through the yard and down the winding path to the marshland below. It was morning yet, and we passed a few monks toiling in the fields beyond the abbey. They sent us on our way with 'God speed you!' and 'Blessings of the day!'

  Having seen Llenlleawg leave our company, I knew where to begin searching. Though the lake was low from the drought, the earth was still soft enough to take a fair impression, and indeed, we had no difficulty recognizing the distinctive crescent and bar of a war-horse's hoof. Arthur had long ago adopted the old Roman custom of affixing an extra crosspiece of iron to the horseshoe, which, though costly, greatly improved the usefulness of our mounts, especially on the battlefield. There was no mistaking one of the Pendragon's horses.

  Taking our lead from the tracks, we rode east. Our horses, wonderful creatures, carried us over the nearer hills as lightly as thistledown borne aloft on the wind's breath, and we were soon far from sight of the Tor. I was so enjoying my ride that I soon forgot all about Llenlleawg and his lady. Peredur's sharp whistle brought me up short. I halted and turned to see him pointing away south.

  'Forgive me, lord,' he said, 'but I think he has left the trail just here.'

  Looking to the place he indicated, I saw the tracks of two shod horses leading south. I commended his sharp eye and confessed that I had been too much given to the ride to notice the turning. 'You have saved us the chore of retracing our steps,' I allowed, and granted him the privilege of leading the search. 'Now on with you! Tallaght and I will follow.'

  Thus I took my place behind the other two, and we resumed our journey. The trail, as Peredur had rightly espied, departed its eastward course and struck off towards the south. Once beyond the salt-marsh lowlands, we encountered drought-dry hills and dusty valleys, passing abandoned holdings where but recently we might have expected a drink.

  Day's end found us far to the south and searching for a stream or brook where we might make camp for the night. The first stars were already alight when we finally came upon a shrunken rill where a little water yet trickled. Though I would have preferred a more private place among the trees, I did not like to wander far from the trail, for it seemed likely that if Llenlleawg had passed this way, he might have camped hereabouts, too.

  We gathered the few bits of dry brush to make our fire, and pulled provisions from the bags behind our saddles to make a quiet meal – after which we rolled ourselves in our cloaks to contemplate the bright-spangled heavens and wait for sleep to overtake us. I had just closed my eyes, or so it seemed, when a strange wailing sound roused me. I awoke and stood, stone-still and holding my bre
ath, to listen for a moment. The sound, similar in some ways to that of a wolf crying down the moon, reached me from some distance farther south.

  I walked a little apart from the red embers of our exhausted fire, and looked to the low southern hills, where I saw the faintly flickering glow of a beacon flame. I watched for a while, and scanned the land round about for an answering fire, but saw none. Neither did I hear the wailing sound again. The beacon, if beacon it was, died away as quickly as a spark, and the darkness closed around the place. I waited, but the flame was not renewed, and so I returned to my rest.

  The next morning, after leaving a pile of rocks to mark the trail, we turned aside to find the place where the beacon had been lit, for I hoped to discover some sign of who had made it and why. As it happened, the ride led us farther south than I anticipated, but we found the site: an immense bed of still-warm ashes surrounded by a ring of earth erected to keep the dry hillside from taking light. Here and there we saw a few footprints – though very few – and those were scuffed and featureless.

  They have taken care to leave nothing behind,' Peredur observed.

  'Who could have made it?' wondered Tallaght. 'Llenlleawg and the girl?'

  'Better to ask who was meant to see it,' I replied, and then considered that the wailing began only after the beacon had all but spent itself. 'Maybe they feared we would miss the signal, so they roused us another way,' I suggested lightly to my companions, but neither of them deemed it likely.

  'Probably it was only a wolf,' suggested Tallaght. 'No doubt the smell of smoke disturbed the beast.'

  Now, I have heard wolves howling in the night more times than either of my young friends have swung rump to saddle, and I know it was never any wolf I heard. Still, I held my tongue and let the thing go. As there was nothing more to see, I went to my horse, gathered up the reins, and regained my mount, ready to resume the trail. 'The day flies before us,' I called, urging them away.

  'A moment, lord,' cried Peredur. I looked around and saw him inside the fire-ring, squatting on his haunches, prodding the ashes with a length of branch unburned at one end. So saying, he lifted something from the smouldering ash pile and brought it to me. 'What think you of this?' he asked, extending the stick towards me.

  I saw that he had found a scrap of cloth – fine stuff, tightly woven – which had been all but consumed in the flames. Taking the scrap between my fingers, I looked again, more closely, and to my dismay recognized it at once.

  'God help him,' I moaned, my voice a low croak. 'It is a piece of Llenlleawg's cloak.'

  NINE

  ‘ I must have an infant – a child, my sweet. I need a child.'

  Loth, as I recall, merely shrugged. 'No difficulty there,' he replied lightly. 'I will send one of the men to the settlement. There are always brats enough, and no one squeals overmuch if one goes missing.'

  'No,' I said. 'Not that way.' Taking up the camphor-wood box from the table, I removed the lid and dipped my fingers into the fine grey powder.

  'It is nothing. Last time we – '

  'This is different,'I insisted quietly. 'It is not like last time.'

  Young Loth hesitated in the flickering candelight. A beautiful young man, he was the very image of his father. I dropped a pinch of the grey powder into the flame between us. Smoke puffed up, and a subtle fragrance filled the air. 'I need a child,' I said, pressing my hands to my stomach. 'It must be bone of my bone, blood of my blood. It must be my child.'

  I dropped another pinch of the powder – a potion of compliance -into the flame, replaced the camphor-wood box, and stepped nearer, lowering my voice slightly. 'And you must give me this child, my darling.'

  'Me! But I-'

  'I will tell you about this child, shall I?' Putting my hands on his chest, I stepped forward, drawing him to me. 'This child will grow to be a sorceress of rare and wondrous powers, and she shall be called the Bane of Britain. She will destroy that simpleton Myrddin and his tiresome pet, Arthur. She will lay waste to the Kingdom of Summer, and prepare the way for us to reign – you and me. Together we will establish a dynasty that will last a thousand years.'

  I drew him closer as I spoke. 'Come, my darling Loth.' My hands found his arm, and began leading him away. ‘I have prepared the bedchamber for our pleasure.'

  'Mother, I-'he began, then hesitated, still uncertain. 'Morgian, it is-'

  'Shh,'I hushed gently. 'I ask nothing you have not done with other women. There is food within, and wine. We will eat and drink and, in the time-between-times, you will give me your seed for the making of a child.'

  He looked through the door and into the candlelit interior beyond. 'Come, my darling,' I said, my voice like warm mead, sweetly intoxicating and seductive, 'the night awaits.'

  'I would not hear you speak so, even in jest,' Tallaght intoned ruefully.

  'As I breathe, son, it is no jest. Either this is all that remains of our swordbrother's cloak, or I know him not at all.'

  Turning his gaze once more to the ash pile, he said, 'Then we best make certain there is no more of him here than that.'

  And so we did. Stir the embers how we might, the ashes revealed nothing more. Keen-eyed Peredur, meanwhile, busied himself with searching the surrounding hillside, and his labour bore fruit.

  'See here!' he cried, drawing our attention. 'They passed this way!'

  Hastening to where he stood, we saw the tracks of two people – and possibly a third – leading away from the fire-ring. I bent low to examine the faint markings – little more than bent grass and scuff marks in the dirt – and marvelled once more at Peredur's ability. 'Son,' I said, for he was that young, 'wherever did you learn to track?'

  'My father kept the game runs for King Cadwallo,' he answered. 'I have ridden with him since I was old enough to sit a horse.'

  'Well, lad, he taught you well.' Tucking the burned scrap of cloak under my belt, I said, 'I think it best we follow the trail we are given. Lead on.'

  Thus we continued on our way, pursuing our new course south and east, slowly passing beyond the lands of the Summer Realm. I took care to mark our progress, for we were moving into territory strange to me. Trusting Peredur to keep the trail, I occupied myself with watching the rocks and hills round about, keeping an eye for any sign that we might be watched. Save the occasional lonely crow, I saw no living thing.

  Even so, the further we journeyed into that queer land, the more certain I grew that we were being watched. I have ridden into battle often enough to know when an enemy is lurking near, hiding and awaiting the chance to attack an unwary warrior. That was the feeling that overtook me in this place. Once, as we descended a steep defile between two overhanging bluffs, the skin prickled on my back as if danger stalked us from behind. Spear in hand, I wheeled my horse to see… the empty path, and nothing more.

  This occurred three times before the sun reached midday, and each time it took me by surprise. Though it does me no credit to confess it, the last instance so unnerved me that I called Peredur to halt at the next opportunity, thinking to water the horses and collect myself somewhat. This he did soon after, for directly we came upon a tidal estuary and climbed down from the horses. The bank, such as it was, consisted of loose slaty shingle and wrack cast up by the tide. As ill luck would have it, the tide was out, leaving an expanse of mud wide as a battleground with only a thin rivulet of rank green water oozing down through the centre.

  Loath to let the horses drink this foul brack, we looked up and down either side to see if we might yet come to some better place, but were frustrated in the attempt. The estuary stretched far inland and maintained its breadth beyond sight.

  'This is an unhappy place, God knows,' remarked Tallaght, scanning the mud before us.

  'It will not grow more agreeable for standing here,' I replied. Seeing nothing for it but to strike on and make for the other side, I swung up into the saddle once more. 'The sooner we put the place behind us, the better I will feel.'

  Peredur, who had ridden a few hundre
d paces upriver to the first of a series of low bluffs rising from the bank, returned to say, 'The trail ends just here. There is no better fording that I can see. They must have gone across at high tide, or we would see the prints.'

  'Then we have no choice.' So saying, I lifted the reins and struck off across the muddy broad.

  It was vile stuff: thick black sticky muck with a stink that turned the stomach. The rancid slime sucked at the steed's hooves and released a stench which assaulted the nose and watered the eyes. I pressed on regardless, anxious to get across as quickly as possible. That was my mistake.

  For, having almost reached the slow-trickling flow in the middle of the mudflat, I realized that my proud mount was sinking deeper into the mire with every step. Halting, I turned in the saddle to warn the two behind me. 'Come no further,' I called. 'We must go around another way.'

  With that I lifted the reins and made to turn the grey. Peredur's shout stopped me. 'Stay, lord!' he cried tersely. 'Do not move!'

  Glancing swiftly behind me and all around, I saw nothing to alarm me and was about to say as much when Tallaght joined in the warning. 'Lord Gwalchavad,' he called, his voice tense. 'Look around you!' He thrust out his hand and pointed to the mud.

  Look I did, but saw only the scum of the fetid mire glimmering under a baleful sun. And then, even as I watched, the whole dully glistening surface began to shiver and then to tremble. I stared in disbelief as the muddy flats quaked with sudden, sluggish life, and the horror of my predicament came clear. The inrushing tide was flowing once more, and the whole unstable mass was quivering and heaving in the slow-rippling waves of quicksand.

  'Go back!' I shouted. 'Save yourselves!'

  Both warriors turned their mounts and began struggling back towards the bank. I made to follow them, but the grey had sunk still lower and could not lift her legs.

  Pulling hard on the reins, I succeeded in making the horse rear onto its hind legs, whereupon I swung the frightened animal's head and completed the turn. The grey succeeded but two further steps before sinking to the hocks once more.