Stephen Lawhead - Taliesin

“Go to Tours, Taliesin. Martin is there-a truly remarkable man. He can teach you much that I cannot. He is a scholar and most learned in the faith. He would welcome a pupil like you.”

“I will consider it,” promised Taliesin. “But first I must return to Avallach’s palace. I will come back when I can. Until then, farewell!”

“Farewell!”

Taliesin rode through the little valley between the two hills and around the Tor, skirting the marsh and water. He reached the causeway that connected the Tor with dry land beyond and continued to the palace. Hafgan was waiting for him when he reached the courtyard.

“Four days, Taliesin,” Hafgan told him. “Your father has been asking for you-and King Avallach as well.”

“Has it been four days? It seems only a moment.”

They began walking into the palace. “Where were you?”

“With the priest Dafyd. I have been busy learning the ways of the True God.”

“And with rolling in the mud by the look of you.”

“We worked while we talked. The time took wings.” He stopped walking and turned to the Chief Druid, gripping him by the arm. “He is the One, Hafgan. I am certain of it. The Most High. He lived as a man among men, away in the east. Jesu was his name, but he called himself the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Think of it, Hafgan!”

“Ah, yes,” replied the druid. “I remember Cormach telling me about this Jesu. The signs of his coming were very great, Cormach said. But there are many gods, after all. Would it not be better to worship this one along with the others?”

“He is Love and Light. And he must be worshiped in all truth. The other gods are as grass before him and are not to be worshiped beside him. It would not do. Besides, why honor the creature when the Creator is present?”

“There is something in what you say,” considered Hafgan. “But no other god demands such allegiance. There are many who will not abide such stricture.”

“Truth is all truth, Hafgan. You taught me that. There cannot be even the smallest grain of falsehood in it or it is not truth. I have discovered the source of all truth; how can I deny what I know?”

“Do not deny it, Taliesin. I would never ask that of you.” He made to move on, but Taliesin held him fast. “The gods of our people: Gofannon the Smith; Clota, Death Goddess; Taranis, the Thunderer; Epona, maiden of the Horses; Ma-bon, the Golden Youth, Brighid of the Silver Spindle; Cer-nunnos, Forest Lord… even Lieu of the Long Hand himself-all point to the One, the Nameless Good God. You know this, Hafgan. He is the one the derwydd have always sought. He is the reason the learned have walked the paths of the Otherworld from times beyond remembering. It was the Christ we were looking for, Hafgan. And now he is revealed.”

The Chief Druid mulled this over for a long time. At last, glancing into Taliesin’s eyes and the bright light burning there, he said, “I am satisfied that it is as you say. But turning away from the gods of our fathers”

“Think not of turning away, Hafgan. Consider only turning from image to object, stepping from shadow into light, exchanging slavery for freedom.”

Hafgan smiled. “You are a most formidable opponent, Tal-iesin. Already your words are weapons for the Good God’s cause.”

“Every warrior is sworn to bear arms for his lord and to fight when-need arises. The enemy gathers round about, Hafgan. The alarm is sounded; the foe is at the gates; the battle must be joined.”

“Oh, aye, but do not expect everyone to follow you into battle.”

They walked into the palace and entered the great hall. Bright sunlight shone in from the high windows, scattering white gold from the polished stone surfaces of the walls. Tal-iesin glanced around quickly. “Where has everyone gone?”

“They grew restless in the hall, so Cuall has taken them to a camp not far away. However, your father and King Aval-lach await us in the king’s chamber.”

They crossed the bright expanse of the hall, their reflections wavering over the glasslike surface of the floor like men walking on water, and came to the curtain at the far end. At their approach a seneschal pulled back the curtain and they passed through.

As they entered the chamber, Avallach was saying, “-an alliance between our two peoples would be advantageous to us both. My brother and I have discussed this at length and we agree that…”

Sitting on either side of the Fisher King were two men of appearance similar to Avallach: long dark hair in heavy curls, thick black beards, rich clothing, jeweled daggers in wide Belts of gilded leather. They possessed the same extravagant stature and manly grace; there could be no question but that they were Faery and Avallach’s kin as well.

All eyes turned, toward Taliesin as he entered the room. “Ah, here is Taliesin now,” said Elphin, rising to meet him. “We were waiting for you.”

“I beg your pardon, Sires,” he said, addressing both Aval-lach and his father. “I was engaged elsewhere and have only just returned.”

“This is the one I have been telling you about,” Avallach murmured to the man on his right, “the singer.” He turned to Taliesin. “My brother, Belyn,” he said, “and my son, Maildun.” To both he said, “Prince Taliesin, son of King Elphin.”

“King Avallach has suggested an alliance between our people,” Elphin informed him. “We were just about to discuss it.”

“But what is there to discuss?” wondered Taliesin. “Certainly for us it can be no bad thing to have allies as powerful as Avallach… although I wonder what advantage Avallach will gain from an alliance with us?”

Avallach nodded appreciatively. “Your son disarms and challenges with the same words, Elphin. A subtle and useful skill for a king, to be sure. But there it is: what would we gain from an alliance?”

Belyn spoke up. “As Avallach has said, we are strangers in this land, like yourselves. But unlike you, we can never return home. Tairn, Sarras, all Atlantis is destroyed and lies at the bottom of the sea. We have survived to make a life here, but that is more difficult than you might imagine.”

“Surely you are well established here,” remarked Elphin; his gesture included the whole of the magnificent palace.

“It is no boast to tell you that what you see here is but a shadow, a semblance only, mean and contemptible compared to all we left behind. Nevertheless, _jt is no use mourning a world that is past and can never be again. We have no choice but to be reconciled to the world wherein we find ourselves.”

“In our eyes,” replied Elphin, “it appears that you admirably reconciled.”

“And yet,” said Avallach, sadness edging his tone, “all is not as it appears. If we are to have a future here, there must be changes.”

“Yes?”

“We lack certain things,” the Fisher King answered. “To be honest, we lack much that would assure our survival in this harsh land-much that you could provide for us.”

“Of course, we would be disposed to help however we could,” replied Elphin. “But we have nothing of our own, as you are well aware. And certainly nothing you do not already possess.”

“I was not thinking of material goods, King Elphin,” said Avallach.

“What else do we possess that would be useful to your survival?”

“You are a warrior race,” Belyn replied. “You are hardened to battle-war is distasteful to us; and yet it is clear that war is necessary in this world if we are to hold our place in it.”

“Are we to understand that you wish us to fight for you?” asked Elphin incredulously.

“In exchange for land, yes,” answered Avallach.

Hafgan made a sound in his throat like a groan. Elphin’s face hardened. “Keep your land! The Cymry are slaves to no one!”