Ships plied the wide, wave-tossed waters, bringing costly goods from every foreign port: fine wine in sealed amphora; the beautiful rainbow-hued cloth called samite; magnificent horses; worked leather; cups, bowls, and platters of gold, silver and precious glass. From out of Britain flowed other goods: strong steel, lead, silver, wool, beef and hunting hounds.
For a time the Fairest Island that is in the world flowered, filling this worlds-realm with a heavenly scent.
Through all trials did Britain triumph, and in all good things did it abound. The Island of the Mighty reached a height exceeding even that which it attained in elder times under the Roman Emperors. Britain was exalted then.
For this reason it was decided that Arthur should attain his highest honour. At Whitsuntide in the twenty-first year of the High King's reign he would receive another coronation: the Laurel Crown of the Roman Empire. Yr Amherawdyr Arthyr, he would become, Imperator Artorius; Exalted Arthur, Emperor of the West and Chief Dragon of the Island of the Mighty. The last remnants of the empire would be placed beneath his hand.
So widely renowned and revered was our Pendragon that as soon as word of this impending honour was spoken out, the four winds carried it far and wide throughout this worlds-realm to all foreign nations. And the best men in the world at that time began journeying to Britain to hail the new emperor. Kings, lords, noblemen, bishops and archbishops of the church – men whose worth was beyond measure in their own homelands. They came to honour Arthur, and to see him crowned in glory.
There were so many that Arthur was forced to leave his beloved Caer Lial and go to Caer Legionis in the south. For though it was not a fine city like Caer Lial, it was larger and could house all those streaming into Britain. Also, the deep River Uisc nearby gave safe harbourage to the innumerable ships arriving by twos and fives and tens as soon as the weather broke fair.
In this way, the old City of the Legions came once more under the authority of an emperor and knew again something of its former grandeur. Caerleon, as it was sometimes called now, also boasted another benefit – the twin churches of Julius and Aaron, presided over by Arthur's friend Illtyd, lately archbishop.
Preparations for the coronation began directly after the Christ Mass. Braving winter seas, I sailed with die Emrys, Bedwyr and a hundred of the Cymbrogi to the south to help make ready. Most of my work consisted of reroofing and timbering the long-unused storehouses to receive the tribute of grain, lard, wine, ale and fodder which began flooding into the city as soon as the roads and mountain passes thawed in the spring.
Each of the others directed equally ambitious works of repair aod reconstruction lo the halls, the houses, the streets and walls. Indeed, the whole city resounded with so much uproar of carpenters and masons that it was called Caer Terfsyg – Fortress of Riot. I laboured from sunrise to long past twilight, tireless in my many tasks. My hands grew hard, and my muscles lean. I led men and commanded good works to be done. When the Emrys saw that I could accomplish much, more was given me to do. Thus I became one of Arthur's captains, though I had never led a battle.
From mid-winter to spring's end we laboured, and the ancient vicus was transformed. Walls were rebuilt, streets repaved, foundations shored up, roofs patched and leaded, gates repaired, aqueducts retiled; the marshland south of the city was drained to accommodate the myriad tents and bothies – thus even waste land began blooming with wild flowers again. The people of Caerleon threw themselves into the redeeming of their city, and nowhere did a labourer go without meat or drink, or a helping hand when he required it.
The Emrys oversaw the principal work of restoring the governor's palace. Actually, there had never been a governor in Caer Legionis. The fortress had been once been ruled by a Vicarius named Matinus, who lived well and was widely reputed to be a fair and honest man. His extensive house was later inhabited by a succession of legates and tribunes who added to its luxury and grounds, so that in after times it came to rival the governors' residences of Londinium and Eboracum.
This palace, the Emrys decided, should become the site of Arthur's triumphal reception. The coronation itself would take place in the twin churches: the Church of Aaron for Arthur, and the Church of Julius for Gwenhwyvar. The palace had long been abandoned and considered a prime source of good building-stone by the locals, who pulled down much of the dressed stone and plundered the furnishings. Only the tessellated mosaics on the floor escaped being carried off.
Yet the Emrys maintained that this house alone would serve. And when the citizens learned of the high honour to be paid them in hosting Arthur's coronation, and the work of restoration began in earnest, the pillaged furniture began to reappear. Even the dressed stone returned, liberated from whatever use it had served in the generations since the last tribune decamped for Rome.
upon it came away inspired and cheered to see this revival of imperial splendour. But not only was the empire revived, Celtic nobility also roused from its sleep. Under Myrddin Emrys' guiding hand the inspired blending of both was accomplished: Roman in form and foundation, Celtic in execution and expression. No one who beheld the finished work failed to recognized that in the Pendragon's palace a new craft had come into being.
'It is magnificent!' cried Arthur, when he saw it at last. 'Myrddin, you are indeed a most magnificent enchanter!'
'Speak not of enchantment!' declared the Emrys. 'If this could have been accomplished by enchantment, I have wasted good men's sweat and sleepless nights for nothing!'
'Not for nothing,' soothed Gwenhwyvar, her dark eyes adazzle at all around her. 'Never say it. Your gift is the more precious to us because it wears your love in every line.'
'It is true, Exalted Emrys,' remarked Gwalcmai, who with his brother and the others of the Round Table, had come with the High King to inspect the work and order the final preparations. 'No king has ever had a palace so richly wrought. In this,' he spread his arms to the gilded hall around us, 'the Summer Realm finds its fairest flower.'
The Emrys smiled, but shook his head lightly. 'Its first, perhaps. Not its fairest. Higher, more noble works will be accomplished. What you see is a beginning only, there are greater things to be done.'
'Greater works will be done,' affirmed Arthur. 'But let us honour this one with the proper respect. Thank you, Myrddin. Your gift beggars me for words.'
The Emrys enjoyed the pleasure his gift gave the Pen-dragon, but he had little time to savour it. For, the next day but one, the first of the High King's guests began arriving. Some had wintered in Caer Lial, others at Caer Cam and Caer Melyn in the south. By ship and on horseback they came, and once the flood started it did not reach high water mark for many and many a day to come.
Thus, on the day of die coronation, a day of unrivalled glory in the Island of the Mighty since its beginning, were assembled lords, kings, princes, noblemen and dignitaries of great renown: Fergus and Aedd of Ierne, Cador of Cerniui, Meurig Hen of Dyfed, Ectorius of Caer Edyn, Caw of Alclyd, Maelgwn of Gwynedd, Maluasius of Hislandi, Doldaf of Gotland, Gonval of Llychllyn, Acel of Druim, Cadwallo of the Venedoti, Holdin of Ruteni, Leodegarius of Holland, Gwilenhin of Ffreincland in Gaul, Ban of Armorica, and many, many others of various ranks and races entered the city to do the Pendragon homage.
Early on Whitsunday we gathered in the Church of Aaron and bowed the knee before the altar of Christ. When everyone was assembled, then did Arthur make entrance. He wore a pure white robe with a belt of braided gold. Before him walked four kings: Cador, Meurig Hen, Fergus and Ban, each wearing a red cloak of state and carrying a golden sword upraised in his hand. The church was filled with the music of a choir of monks singing praise-song and psalms of honour and glory in exquisite harmony, accompanied by, the bishops and archbishops of Britain, robed and with their rods of office.
Another procession, like to the first, but made up of women, left the palace and made its separate way to the Church of Julius. This procession was led by the Archbishop Dubricius, who conducted Queen Gwenhwyvar to her own crown-taking.
Before her walked the queens of Cador, Meurig Hen, Fergus and Ban, each wearing a red cloak and carrying a white dove. Following the queen came the ladies of Britain such as Gwenhwyvar deemed worthy to attend her, and the wives and daughters and female kindred of the Pendragon's subject lords.
Together this fair fellowship went forth from the palace, the radiance of their garments and the splendour of their joy so brilliant, so beautiful to behold, that the throngs lining the streets nearly prevented it from reaching the church at all; the press was so great, and the acclaim so loud, that Gwenhwyvar could hardly make her way through the city.
When all the royal guests and people were gathered in, the High Mass was celebrated in both churches. Never was a more joyous or more reverent rite observed in that city, before or since. At its conclusion, Archbishop Illtyd placed the laurel crown upon Arthur's brow and proclaimed him ' Emperor of the West.
Not to be eclipsed by her husband's glory, Gwenhwyvar likewise received a crown and became the Empress of the West. Then did such merrymaking ensue in both churches that the delighted congregations hastened back and forth from one church to the other to enjoy the festivity, and to fill their ears with the lovely singing of the churchmen and the beauty of the Emperor and his Empress.
Throughout all Britain that Whitsunday endured the most harmonious and glorious celebration, for the Light of Heaven shone full upon the Summer Lord that day.
Upon receiving the crowns, Arthur and Gwenhwyvar offered a feast to their guests. Whereupon the storehouses I laboured so long and hard to prepare were all plundered to provide the food for the feast. Of meat and mead, bread and ale, wine and sweet fruits there was no lack. When the tables were filled in the palace, the feast spilled out onto the yards and then into the streets, and from there outside the walls to the meadows and fields around the city.
At the height of the feast, the celebrants marched forth from the city into the tent-filled meadows and formed themselves into groups for games: riding and racing, throwing lances and stones, wrestling and sword-play, and feats of skill and daring. The day passed in a wealth of joy for everyone, and from this day men understood the meaning of happiness.
The feast continued three days, and on the fourth there appeared a small company of men from the east, white-bearded and round of shoulder, twelve in all and each with a ring of gold on his finger and an olive branch in his hand. These venerable princes came before the High King's throne and greeted him with great courtesy.
'Hail, Great King! And hail to all your people!' said the foremost visitor. 'We are come from the court of Lucius, Emperor of the East, to beseech you in his name, and to deliver his desire into your hands.'
With that, the man withdrew from his robe a sealed parchment which he passed to the Pendragon. The parchment was opened and Arthur ordered it to be read out before all those assembled. In a voice loud and clear, the Emrys stood beside the king and this is what he read:
'Lucius, Procurator of the Republic, to Arthur, High King and Pendragon of the Britons, according to his deserv-ings. I marvel greatly at the unthinkable pride which has inflamed you. You hold all kingdoms in your hand and deem yourself most fortunate, esteemed among men. Yet you do not spare a thought for Rome who taught you the law and justice you so rightly honour.
'Need I remind you that you are a Roman subject? Do you so lightly consider Rome? You think to set the Western Empire in your hand, and who is to prevent you?
'Yet I, Lucius, tell you that while one enemy draws breath beneath the blue sky of Rome, you are no true ruler! Barbarians beset the Seven Hills and roam at will through the empty Forum. Enemies kill our citizens and despoil the land. Free and loyal Romans are carried off in chains to serve foreign slave masters. The cries of the homeless and dying echo in the Senate, and jackals mutilate the corpses of children.
'We hear of the Mighty Pendragon, Exalted One of Britain, King of Champions. All day long the praise of Arthur fills our ears. Your renown has spread to the ends of the earth, Right Worthy Ruler. But do we see your armies rise to the defence of your birthright? Do we see you lift your hand to help those who granted you the benefits you now flaunt?
'Have you forgotten the debt you owe? If your courage is even half so great as the fame-singers tell, why do you delay? The barbarian dog tears at the throat of the Mother of Nations. Where is the Wonderful Pendragon?
'You call yourself Emperor! Call yourself a god! You know not who you are, nor from what dust you are sprung, if you do not offer protection to the Mother of your youth. You are but a faithless craven if you do not march at once to restore the Pax Romana.'
Silence reigned long in the hall when Myrddin Emrys finished reading. That such an acrimonious and belittling message should be delivered to the High King at the moment of his triumph shocked the assembled lords. Arthur withdrew at once to his council room to confer with his lords, sixty in all, and determine what answer he should make to the Emperor Lucius.
Once gathered at the board, Arthur spoke in a stern and solemn voice. 'You have been my closest companions, my Cymbrogi; in good times and bad you have supported me. Help me yet again. Give me benefit of your keen wisdom and tell me what we are to do in the face of such a message as this.'
Cador was first to speak. 'Until now, I have feared that the life of ease which we have won would make cowards of us, that we would grow soft during these years of peace. Worse, our renown as champions of battle would be forgotten, and the Flight of Dragons would cease in our young men's memories.' He smiled as he looked about at his sword brothers. 'Perhaps it is to save us from this indignity that God has allowed this rebuke to reach us. Can we really enjoy our peace when the Seat of the Empire is befouled by barbarians?'
Some readily agreed with Cador, but Gwalcmai was quick to speak up. 'Lord King,' he said, jumping up, 'we should not dread the folly of our young men. If they forget the sacrifice that we have made to bring about this holiest of realms, that is their loss not ours. Even if it were not so, peace is infinitely preferable to war.'
Gwalcmai's words greatly calmed the more quick-tempered among them, and many agreed with him. So the council was divided and began hotly debating the matter among themselves. Arthur listened to all that was said, a frown deepening on his face.
When this had gone on for a while, Ban of Benowyc in Armorica stood and silenced the argument with upraised hands. 'Lord King,' he declared loudly, 'long have I served you in goods and gold and men. I do not think it boast to say that no other lord has supported you more loyally or steadfastly.
'Now then, it is all the same to me whether we go to Rome, or whether we stay. What do I care for the opinions of the idle young men among us? Such renown as I have is sufficient for me; I do not need to raise my name still higher for my own sake.
'Yet I wonder if there might be some greater benefit to be won by marching to the defence of Rome. If, by doing so, we could extend the peace we have enjoyed to the rest of the world, even now suffering the vengeance of barbarians, would this not be a worthy thing? Further, would it not be accounted sin to us to ignore this plea for help, when we could so easily give it?
'I am an old man and no longer need the acclaim of others to think well of myself. But neither do I enjoy a private peace when others suffer injustice that I could prevent.'
At these words the council roared its approval. Who could disagree with such sane logic, they cried. This is surely what must be done. It is not for ourselves that we save Rome, they said, but for those who suffer the barbarians' oppression.
When all had spoken and order was once more regained, the High King stood slowly. 'Thank you, my brothers,' he said, 'for giving me your sound advice. I will withdraw now to consider which way I will go.'
Arthur turned and left the chamber and the lords returned to the feast – all except Bedwyr, Cai, the Emrys and myself, who followed him to his private chamber.
'I cannot believe you would even for a moment consider going to Rome,' Bedwyr said, wasting no time. 'You are power
mad if you think to honour Lucius' letter with action.'
'Speak your mind, Bedwyr,' replied Arthur with a grin. 'Unbind your tongue and do not hold back.'
'I mean it, Bear,' said Bedwyr icily, 'nothing good can come of it. No Briton who marched to Rome ever returned. Macsen Wledig went to Rome and they beheaded him. Constantine became emperor and they poisoned him. It is a snake-pit. Stay far away from there.'
Cai disagreed. 'How can he call himself emperor if he abandons the Seat of the Empire to barbarians? Go to Rome, I say, free it, and carry the throne back to Britain. Then it will be saved for all time.'
I did not know what to think. Both arguments appealed to me. It was true that Britons who entertained dreams of empire tended to die upon reaching Rome. Equally true, it seemed to me, that to allow the heathen to defy justice tainted the peace we had laboured so long to achieve.
So it was that we, with Arthur, looked at last to the Wise Emrys. 'Why do you stare at me?' the Emrys said. 'You have already made up your minds. Go and do what you have decided to do.'
'But I have not decided,' objected Arthur. 'God knows I am adrift here.'
The Emrys gave his head a shake. 'Nothing I say will change the heart within you, Arthur. I marvel that you have not already given the order to sail."
'What have I done to deserve this abuse?' asked Arthur in a wounded voice. Tell me and I will make it right.'
'I tell you this. If you uphold the council of men like Cador and Ban, then you deserve the abuse that comes to you!'
'But I do not uphold their council. I am asking for yours.'
'Then hear me well, for when I have finished I will speak no more about it.'
'As you will,' replied Arthur, sitting down in his chair.
'Listen then, O King, to the Soul of Wisdom!' The Emrys, in the manner of the druid bards of old, pulled his cloak tightly around him and stood before the king, head erect, eyes closed, voice raised in declamation. 'Through all things I have laboured, to this end only: that the Kingdom of Summer might be born in this worlds-realm. In you, Arthur Wledig, this has been accomplished. You are the Champion of Light that was foretold of old; you are the Bright Promise of Britain, you are the Chief Dragon of the Island of the Mighty, you are the Favoured One of God, who has so richly blessed you.
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