Stephen Lawhead - Pendragon

'Then I will tell you what little I know,' I replied. I related what Pelleas and I had learned, and explained how we had come by our information.

Uflwys stood and paced fretfully before the fire. 'Yes,' he said when I had finished, 'I am certain what you say is true, for it explains much. Morcant has no doubt taken pains to keep this from me, but no longer.' He turned suddenly towards the door. 'Come, we will confront the king with this foul sin. I will not sleep until I have laid the crime at his feet. He must not think the church will remain indifferent to this outrage.'

An important civitas under the Romans, Venta Bulgarum had been the Belgae lords' stronghold before the Legions came; Morcant never let anyone forget that his line boasted long and lucrative cooperation with Caesar, and that the lords of the Belgae were proud of their past. Though the forum and basilica had been claimed for private use, King Morcant maintained them worthily. Indeed, for all his talk of Britain, he still styled himself a provincial governor.

The doors were shut and bolted for the night, but Morcant received us. Bishop Uflwys was too imposing a figure in Caer Uintan to treat lightly, or disgracefully. I doubt that I would have been likewise welcomed. Nevertheless, we were conducted to a chamber hung with woven rugs on the walls, and lit with rushlights.

'It is late for a priest, is it not?' Morcant asked, smiling as if receiving the bishop in the dead of night was a most natural thing to him. 'I understood a monk rose and slept with the sun.'

'As our Lord the Christ is always about his business, so must his servants stand ready to serve when need arises,' the bishop answered him, 'whether day or night.'

'And Merlin -' said Morcant, deigning to recognize me at last. Though I had put off my priestly garb, I was still dressed humbly. 'I am surprised to see you. I had thought you dead.'

No doubt that was his dearest hope. 'Lord Morcant,' I replied coolly, 'you cannot think I would leave Britain without a word of farewell. When I go, the whole world will know it.'

The answer was given lightly enough; but the words held an ominous cast, and they were received with awkward silence.

'Well,' offered Morcant, allowing himself a sly, satisfied smile, 'at least we may presume to enjoy your presence a goodly time yet. Now then, will you take some wine with me? Or does your Lord's business require more sober attention?' The king folded his hands and made no move to summon the wine. Rather, eyeing each of us in turn, he returned to his chair and sat awaiting whatever should happen next.

Bishop Uflwys lost no time. 'Save your refreshment,' he said flatly. 'It would be a waste to pour good wine tonight. Merlinus brings me word of this war you pursue. What is the truth of it?'

Morcant stared innocently at us. Oh, he had studied his reactions carefully. 'War?' he said, as if uttering an unknown word. 'There must be some error here. I know nothing of any war. Why, we are at peace. The Saecsen devils have -'

'Spare me talk of Saecsens,' snapped Uflwys. 'It is being voiced in the settlements hereabouts that you have attacked King Madoc, taken some of his lands, and killed his son. Is this true?'

Morcant contrived a pained expression. 'Did Madoc set you to this?' He sighed and slapped the arms of his chair with his hands in apparent exasperation. 'Why is he saying these things against me?'

But Bishop Uflwys was not deterred so easily. 'I ask you again and demand an answer, Morcant: is the accusation true? I would caution you to bethink yourself before answering, for you put your soul in peril with a lie.'

If this worried Morcant, he did not show it. He arranged his features in a grave, hurt expression. 'You cannot believe I would do these things.'

'That is the trouble, Morcant; I do believe it,' Uflwys insisted. 'And I have yet to hear you say otherwise.'

Feeling the impossibility of his position, Morcant attacked. ' You !' He bounded from his chair and thrust a finger in my face. 'This is your doing! You have inspired Madoc to contrive these rumours against me!'

But I answered him firmly. 'No, Morcant. I did not.'

'Then it is all Madoc's doing,' Morcant replied petulantly. 'Oh, I see it clearly now.'

'You have not answered the accusation, Morcant,' declared the bishop, rising from his chair. 'I take your silence as proof of your guilt. I will remain here no longer, lest you do further violence to your soul.' He stepped towards the door, where he paused and turned. 'I will pray for you, false lord, that you quickly come to your senses and repent before it is too late.'

Morcant made no move to stop him, but stood firm, glowering belligerently. The good bishop had him trussed and tied. There was nothing he could do but worry the knots, and tighten them at every twist.

Pelleas and I followed Uflwys from the palace and across the yard. 'I had hoped better from him,' sighed the bishop.

'But you are not surprised?'

'No, I know Morcant too well for that. I am not surprised. Still, I hope always for the best. As I said, his silence damns him. He did the deed.' Uflwys stopped and turned to me. 'What is to be done now?'

'That we will see. If Madoc will suffer his hurt in silence, it may end there. If not…" I raised my eyes to the night-dark sky. 'The war will continue, and others will be pulled into it. Which, I suppose, is Morcant's intent.'

We made our way back to the church, but no more was said until the next morning, when we came before the bishop to take our leave. 'Will you try to stop the war from going any further?' asked Uflwys hopefully.

'Yes. They must be made to see that when it comes to fighting among ourselves, no one can win but the Saecsens: they will stand aside and watch while we slaughter one another and then swoop in to carve up the leavings.'

'Then I commend you to your task,' Bishop Uflwys said. 'I will do what I can here, of course, and I will pray for a swift and satisfactory resolution.' He raised his right hand in blessing. 'Go with God, my friends, and may our Lord uphold you in all grace.'

To the west of Caer Uintan the land is all bold hills and hidden valleys. The woodlands are less dense, the settlements more numerous and more prosperous than in the north. The Summer-lands lie to the west; and but a little farther, Ynys Witrin, the Glass Isle of old, now called Ynys Avallach: home of Avallach, the Fisher King, and his daughter, Charis, my mother.

Taliesin's people were gone from the Summerlands – as the region between Belgarum and Ynys Avallach was known-and the realm was held by a man named Bedegran. As a young man, Bedegran had fought alongside Aurelius, and I remembered him as a fair and forthright lord.

The next day we came to Bedegran's stronghold at Sorvym. His was a large realm, and as it was open to the sea by way of the Afen River-whereby the Sea Wolves often sought landfall – he had learned the value of vigilance.

Bedegran was out with part of his warband when we arrived. His steward assured us of our welcome, and bade us stay until his master returned. Being so close to Ynys Avallach, I was of half a mind to continue on, but agreed to wait if there was a chance of learning anything from Bedegran.

We were given a meal while we waited, and I slept a little. Pelleas meanwhile passed the time with Bedegran's steward, who said much that his master later confirmed: Morcant had been threatening their lands for some time, trying to provoke a war between them.

As yet, it was nothing but nuisance and vexation – a few cattle missing, fields trampled, and other such like. Bedegran had thus far succeeded in keeping his head and avoiding open confrontation which was, I reckoned, Morcant's desire.