Stephen Lawhead - Grail

If she remembered me, she gave no sign, for as she passed, her face remained impassive and her gaze moved over me without the slightest recognition as she regarded the Pendragon's camp. She appeared slightly the better for her sojourn among Hwyl and his people – her long hair was neatly braided, and her clothes were clean – and since she appeared well treated and content, I turned away and thought no more about her.

Others arrived from surrounding lands: Arawn, Gryffyd, and Euan, who held settlements east of the Treont; Rhun, Hasner, Ensyth, and Gwrgan Ffrych, from the hill country to the west. Each came in the company of such chieftains and headmen as were deemed appropriate to attend the council in the absence of their respective kings. We welcomed them and bade them assemble before the Pendragon's tent, where the High King waited. Arthur's camp chair, which he used as a throne when on the move, had been set up outside the tent, on a red oxhide on the ground. Four spears – two upright and two crossed – were established behind the chair, and the Pendragon's shield hung from the crossed spears. The High King received the homage of his noblemen with good grace and an easy manner, speaking warmly to each one as he came before Arthur.

In all, I believe there were upwards of fifty noblemen who answered the summons, along with many warriors and women. Of those, two of them – Cyllin ap Caradoc and Cynfarch – had ridden with Arthur during the Saecsen War, and were happy to see him once more. Had they known barbarians were soon to be thrust into their midst, they might not have embraced their Pendragon so warmly.

So far as I knew, only Hwyl – the chieftain I had personally alerted – came prepared to deal with the matter at hand. I dreaded thinking what would happen when the others learned of Arthur's judgment.

Strife was the last thing on Arthur's mind, however, and though he had not forgotten his decree and its inevitable upheaval, I believe he misjudged the intensity of the feelings so provoked. In his present humour, he could not conceive of the difficulty others would have swallowing the bitter cup he offered. So full of peace and goodwill himself, I think he really imagined all men readily and eagerly sharing his joy. Certainly his radiant and extravagant manner smoothed the way. Even so, it was a rough ride over rugged ground.

As anyone save Arthur might have expected, the sudden announcement that their lands had fallen forfeit to barbarians did not sit well with the noblemen of the region. Stunned by the High King's declaration, they sat glaring in icy silence while Arthur explained the nature of the rebellion against him and its unfortunate consequences. Then, much as I had done with Hwyl, he held out their only hope.

This is what I have decreed, and this is how it will be,' he said solemnly. 'Treachery has reaped its reward; however, it has pleased God to temper justice with mercy so that the innocent do not suffer unduly for their ignoble lords' disloyalty. Before me this day, Mercia, Lord of the Vandali, has vowed to uphold and protect those who remain on their lands within the realm he has been granted. You may keep your settlements and holding, your fields, flocks, and cattle. He has undertaken the oath of Christ and forsworn all other gods. Added to this, he has given me his solemn pledge that he will take nothing from you that is not freely given.'

Intended to soothe, these words kindled instead. Indeed, it was as if Arthur had thrown oil onto a sputtering flame. The anger of the noblemen's responses singed the very air.

'Swear faith to a barbarian!' roared Lord Ensyth. 'I never will! I am a Briton, and abide none but a trueborn Briton over me! Neither will I see my lands given over to foreigners.'

'Nor I!' shouted Arawn, his neighbour to the north.

As if this were the signal they had all been waiting for, the whole assembly leapt up as one. Shouting, thrusting fists of defiance in the air, each striving to be heard above the others, the council quickly lost all semblance of order. The Cymbrogi instinctively closed ranks around the Pendragon, put their hands to their sword hilts, and looked to return force with force. Llenlleawg, Cai, Bedwyr, Rhys, and I took up our places and stood to face the uproar.

Arthur, having caused the commotion, yet appeared surprised at the vehemence with which the noblemen expressed their views. He sat gazing in mild amazement as the council collapsed around him. Myrddin, frowning, hovered at Arthur's right shoulder, bent, and spoke a word into the king's ear. Arthur merely raised his hand and dismissed the suggestion, allowing the tumult to continue.

I suppose he thought such an overheated blaze would quickly burn itself out and he could more easily persuade the dissenters once their tempers had cooled. This, I fear, was too generous a reading of the situation. For the more they clamoured, the hotter and more angry they grew.

Truly, I believe it would have ended in blows and bloodshed if not for the abrupt appearance of the mute young woman. Because of the confusion, I do not know how she came to be there; it seemed to me that she simply emerged in the midst of the chaos to stand among the angry lords.

For my own part, I had been looking at Arthur, should any command be forthcoming, and when I glanced back, there she was – standing as placidly as a maid in a meadow, hands folded in front of her, cool and chaste, dressed in a simple white mantle tied at her slender waist with a bit of blue, her fair hair glowing in the sun: a vision, as I thought, could not appear more lovely in my eyes.

Her unexpected presence unsettled the council. The shouting continued for a moment and then ceased as, one by one, the irate lords fell silent and an uneasy hush passed over the assembly. The girl herself seemed not to know or mind the effect of her arrival; indeed, she seemed oblivious to all save the Cymbrogi ranged before her; these she regarded with the innocent interest of a child beholding a new and fascinating game.

She took a hesitant step forward, and then another, pausing demurely, her green eyes wide and glowing with delight. The rapt look on her face was enchantment itself.

As I say, a moment or two passed before the council recovered its voice, and when it did, the fury that had formerly threatened Arthur now demanded to know who was this woman, and what she meant by invading the proceedings and interrupting their deliberations.

Well, Arthur was at a loss; he looked around him for anyone who might offer an explanation. I hastened to his side, saying, 'I know this woman, lord – rather, she is known to me.'

'Who is she?' he asked, glancing at her once more. Bedwyr leaned close to hear what I had to say.

'I cannot say, but – '

'Why is she here?'

'Again, I cannot say,' I replied.

Turning to me, Arthur grinned. 'If this passes for acquaintance with you, Gwalchavad, I wonder that you ever meet a stranger.'

'Arthur, please,' I begged. 'I only meant that I have seen her but once before – when I rode to Urien's stronghold to summon Hwyl to the council.'

'She is Hwyl's kinswoman, then?' wondered Arthur, stealing another glance at her.

'No, lord,' I answered, and quickly explained how I had come upon her in the forest. 'She seemed in distress from the sun and hunger,' I said, 'so I left her in Hwyl's care. At my suggestion, he has brought her to the council to see if anyone knows who she might be.'

'Why?' asked Bedwyr. 'Can she not speak for herself?'

'That is the problem,' I told them. 'She is mute. She cannot speak a word.'

Arthur nodded, and then stood, raising his hands to quiet the complaint that was threatening to overtake us once more. 'Friends!' he called. 'Calm yourselves. There is no cause for concern here. I have it that this young woman is a mute who has lost her way. I ask you now if anyone among you knows who she may be, or where her people might be found.'