racked Britain, and the invasions. But the sternness was no use. I began to think of all the places which I had heard of: Camlann with its triple banks, new heart of Britain; Caer Ebrauc, a great city, massively walled, Sorviodunum, Caer Gwent, Caer Legion, splendid fortresses. Monasteries filled with books and learning, great roads from one end of the island to the other, triumphal arches tall as trees, mosaics in the courtyards of rich villas, fountains and statues, theaters and arenas, things I had read of but never seen. Britain, the last remnant of the Empire of the Romansâexcept for the east; but Constantinople was further away than the Otherworld and more unreachable. Britain, surrounded by men who desired her, unconquered in the midst of defeat. There, in that fabulous land, the High King Arthur Augustus had raised the dragon standard, and he was protected by a magic Morgawse could not overcome. And I remembered that, although by his acts I might be counted his enemy, by blood he was my uncle, and that might win me a place. I was no warrior to join his warband, but there might be something I could do if I joined him.
Yes. I would try to journey to Camlann, or to the High King Arthur where he was, and I would offer him my service.
This decided, I stared out to sea again and wondered how to go about it.
For some reason, Llyn Gwalch was safe, if only for a little while. But Morgawse had raised the Darkness against me, and I knew that if I climbed back up the cliff I would be destroyed long before I could reach the port in the east of the island. And even if I did reach the port, what would I do for a boat? If I stole a small boat, how could I, a fairly inexperienced sailor, hope to travel the treacherous northern waters to Pictland with the winter coming on? And I had nothing to pay for passage on a larger vessel.
For a moment I thought of going to my father with the story, but dismissed the idea at once. Morgawse would not possibly allow me to tell my father that she had accomplished the death of one of his warriors. I wondered what she would tell him as it was. That I had killed Connall? Probably not. That would require too much explaining. No, she would pretend to know nothing of either Connallâs disappearance or mine, and find some way to dispose of Connallâs body. My horse would return to the stable riderless, or perhaps be found wandering about the cliff, and my clan would conclude that I had gone mad, and ridden along the cliffs on Samhain. And Medrautâhe might weep. I felt sick again. Poor Medraut. If only I could haveâ¦or have understood. But it was too late. Perhaps it had been too late for a long time. It was best that he thought me dead. If he knew that I was alive, he would hate me.
I stared at the sea and pondered all these things, twisting them about in my mind and running off on tangents. But the answerâor rather, the absence of an answerâremained the same. I was trapped at Llyn Gwalch.
By noon I felt quite hungry, though stronger than I had been when I woke. I looked hopefully in the pool for fish and found none. There were some oysters clinging to the rocks along the cliff-foot, though, and plenty of sea-birds nesting in the face of the cliff, if it came to that. I stripped and swam out, then along the foot of the cliff, collecting oysters in my tunic. I had a good amount when I felt a sudden chill, colder than the water. I looked up. The sun shone on the cliff-face, hazed by a light mist. Half-way down the cliff lay a patch of shadow. I looked upwards, then looked at the shadow again, and realized that there was nothing on the cliff to cast it. Hurriedly, I turned and swam back to the beach, and the cold became merely the usual cold of the north sea in November. So. The creature Morgawse had summoned was waiting for me.
I laid my tunic in the sun, wrapped myself in my cloak, shivering, and ate the oysters. They tasted very good, but I knew that they would not
Yes. I would try to journey to Camlann, or to the High King Arthur where he was, and I would offer him my service.
This decided, I stared out to sea again and wondered how to go about it.
For some reason, Llyn Gwalch was safe, if only for a little while. But Morgawse had raised the Darkness against me, and I knew that if I climbed back up the cliff I would be destroyed long before I could reach the port in the east of the island. And even if I did reach the port, what would I do for a boat? If I stole a small boat, how could I, a fairly inexperienced sailor, hope to travel the treacherous northern waters to Pictland with the winter coming on? And I had nothing to pay for passage on a larger vessel.
For a moment I thought of going to my father with the story, but dismissed the idea at once. Morgawse would not possibly allow me to tell my father that she had accomplished the death of one of his warriors. I wondered what she would tell him as it was. That I had killed Connall? Probably not. That would require too much explaining. No, she would pretend to know nothing of either Connallâs disappearance or mine, and find some way to dispose of Connallâs body. My horse would return to the stable riderless, or perhaps be found wandering about the cliff, and my clan would conclude that I had gone mad, and ridden along the cliffs on Samhain. And Medrautâhe might weep. I felt sick again. Poor Medraut. If only I could haveâ¦or have understood. But it was too late. Perhaps it had been too late for a long time. It was best that he thought me dead. If he knew that I was alive, he would hate me.
I stared at the sea and pondered all these things, twisting them about in my mind and running off on tangents. But the answerâor rather, the absence of an answerâremained the same. I was trapped at Llyn Gwalch.
By noon I felt quite hungry, though stronger than I had been when I woke. I looked hopefully in the pool for fish and found none. There were some oysters clinging to the rocks along the cliff-foot, though, and plenty of sea-birds nesting in the face of the cliff, if it came to that. I stripped and swam out, then along the foot of the cliff, collecting oysters in my tunic. I had a good amount when I felt a sudden chill, colder than the water. I looked up. The sun shone on the cliff-face, hazed by a light mist. Half-way down the cliff lay a patch of shadow. I looked upwards, then looked at the shadow again, and realized that there was nothing on the cliff to cast it. Hurriedly, I turned and swam back to the beach, and the cold became merely the usual cold of the north sea in November. So. The creature Morgawse had summoned was waiting for me.
I laid my tunic in the sun, wrapped myself in my cloak, shivering, and ate the oysters. They tasted very good, but I knew that they would not
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