Stephen Lawhead - Grail

It had been so long since I had seen the sun, I stopped in my tracks and turned my face to the glorious light as if to drink it deep into my soul. A winter sun, but no less welcome for that, I felt its warmth bathe my features and thanked the Lord who made me that I yet roamed the world of the living.

We continued on and it was not long before I noticed a very strange thing. All around me, the woodland was steaming as the sunlight penetrated the wet trees and ground. Now, that in itself is not remarkable, but as the misty vapours rose and curled in the sun-struck air, the forest itself seemed to be dissipating, fading away with the mist – as if the very trees themselves were nothing more than a night fog which vanishes when touched by the light of day. The forest was thinning and receding before my eyes.

We all stopped and gaped at this wondrous sight. And when we turned once more to the path, the woodland had grown thin and the way stretched wide before us. We moved on, and quickly paired with one another – Arthur and Gwenhwyvar walked together, heads bent near in close discussion; Bors began questioning Rhys about what had happened after the Cymbrogi became separated in the forest. Peredur dutifully followed a half step behind his prisoner, who lumbered forward with head and shoulders bent. I found myself walking beside Gereint, amiable enough in his silence, but I had questions that needed answers he could not supply.

I saw that Myrddin walked alone at the head of the party, and decided to join him. 'Here, now,' I told Gereint, 'let us hear what Myrddin has to say about all that has taken place.' Adjusting our pace, we soon fell into step beside the Wise Emrys.

'How long must Llenlleawg remain in exile?' I said, asking the first question that came to mind.

'Until the penance for his crimes has been fulfilled,' the Wise Emrys declared, then added in a gentler tone: 'God alone knows how long that may be, but I believe that either he will die there, or Arthur will one day welcome his champion back into his service.'

'To think it could happen to the likes of Llenlleawg,' I mused. 'I wonder why Morgaws chose him to aid her treachery.'

Myrddin gave me a sideways glance. 'She deceived us all! Gwenhwyvar spoke the truth: Morgaws bewitched and beguiled every last one of us.'

'We were all deceived, of course, but only Llenlleawg sided with her and carried out her purposes.'

'Why wonder at that? Great Light! Only by God's good grace do any of us stand or fall. I think it praiseworthy so many resisted.' He was silent for a moment, meditating on this; when he spoke again, he said, 'But you see how it is. Even though she could deceive us, she could not overwhelm us; her powers were not of that kind. She could seduce but she could not subdue, and that is the way of it.'

Again I confessed I did not understand, so Myrddin explained. 'The Enemy's powers are far less than we imagine. The Evil One cannot overwhelm us by force. Indeed, he can use against us only the weapons we give him.'

I allowed that this might be so, but it did seem that Morgaws had no trouble getting whatever she wanted.

'Did she not?' demanded Myrddin. 'See here: Morgaws wanted the Grail and she wanted Arthur's sword. For all her vaunted powers, she could not get these simple things for herself. No, she required someone else – and even then, she could not keep them. Despite her skills and schemes, she could not meet us face-to-face, but required one of our own who could be turned to her purposes.' Myrddin sighed. 'Alas, it was Llenlleawg who succumbed.'

'I still do not understand why he did it,' Gereint put in. 'Betraying the king…' He subsided, shaking his head as if it were a thing that would remain forever beyond his comprehension.

'Evil ever chooses the weak and willing,' Myrddin replied. 'But I think it was really Gwalchavad she wanted.'

'Me!' He startled me with this unexpected announcement.

'You were the first to find Morgaws,' he stated simply. 'You are Lot's son, after all, and Morgian knows you. It would have served her purposes well to bend you to her will.'

The thought made me uneasy. 'Then Morgian was behind it after all?' I asked.

Myrddin pondered this before he answered. 'I believe Morgaws was Morgian's creature from the beginning, and acted on Morgian's command,' he said, then, in a voice heavy with regret, added, 'Would that discernment had come to me sooner – how much suffering might have been saved… the waste… the sad, sad, waste.'

'What will she do now?'

'We have removed yet another weapon from the fight,' he answered. 'I have no idea what she will do now. But I think it prudent to assume we have not seen the last of Dread Morgian.'

The threat implicit in this statement hung over me for a long time. I fell silent, thinking about the things Myrddin had said, and was roused some while later when Gereint suddenly cried out, 'Riders approaching!'

The shout startled me like a slap in the face. Deeply immersed in my reverie, I had not been attending to what was happening around me. I looked up to see that the forest had completely disappeared: every tree – root, branch, and twig -had vanished with the mist. There was nothing of the forest to be seen anywhere, and we were once more in the low-hilled barrens of the blighted land.

I had no time to marvel at this, for Myrddin and Gereint stood a few paces ahead of me, and beyond them, some small distance away, a mounted warhost was advancing swiftly.

Arthur, with Gwenhwyvar beside him, joined us quickly, and Bors and Rhys pushed in as well. We stood there in a tight knot as nearer and nearer they came. Soon I heard the dull rumble of the horses' hooves on the ground, and I scanned the onrushing ranks quickly and determined that there must be close to fifty riders – too many to fight, if it came to that.

'Maybe they are some of Cador's kinsmen,' speculated Rhys, shading his eyes with his hand.

Before anyone could reply to this, Arthur loosed a wild whoop and started running to meet the riders.

'Arthur!' shouted Gwenhwyvar; she darted forward a few paces, halted, and called back to us over her shoulder. 'They are not Cador's men. It is Cador himself.'

'And Cai, and Bedwyr, and all the rest,' proclaimed Myrddin, a great, exuberant grin spreading across his face. 'They are alive!'

It was true.

By some miracle known only to God himself, they lived. Within moments we were surrounded by the very kinsmen and swordbrothers we had committed to a fiery grave in the forest. Alive again! They were all alive! Words alone cannot tell how startling and rapturous was that miraculous reunion. My heart soared like an eagle as I ran to greet them.

'Cai! Bedwyr!' I cried, rushing to embrace them as they slid from their saddles. 'Cador! You are alive, praise God. You are…' That was all I managed to get out before the tears came. I am not ashamed to say that I stood before my friends and wept; I cried the happy tears of one who has had his fondest wish answered before he could even articulate the longing.

For their part, the lost Cymbrogi regarded us with bewildered amusement. They stood shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other while we tried to express our immense relief at their unanticipated resurrection. We all talked at once, and tangled over one another, and succeeded only in making the thing more obscure for all our explanation.

'What do you imagine happened to us?' asked Bedwyr, eyeing us with bemused curiosity.

'Brother,' announced Bors, 'we thought you dead!'

'Why should you think that?' wondered Cai, squinting in amazement.

'We saw your bodies!' Rhys exclaimed, exasperation making him blunt. 'Back there in the forest.' He gestured vaguely behind him to the low, barren hills.

'Truly,' said Arthur, his handsome face alight with the all-surpassing pleasure of seeing his friends once more, 'we saw your corpses hung up in a tree like the carcasses of deer after a hunt. Indeed, we burned the tree so that you should not be dishonoured in death.'