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and you will not have to enter the city.'
'Perhaps you would not object,' suggested Elfodd, 'to taking a few supplies to them. The need is great,
and it is the least we can do. Would you mind?'
'Not at all,' I assured him, and then watched as the good The seasons passed. Harvest came and went: a
dismal business, best forgotten. The long, dry summer had done its worst. There was nothing for it but to
trust winter rains to bring a better spring. Though we looked to every grey cloud that drifted overhead,
the rain did not come.
The lack of rain meant, however, that the work on the new shrine could continue without interruption,
and people began to look upon its completion as the salvation of the land. 'When the Grail Shrine is
finished' became the litany which began every conversation, as people turned hopefully to a brighter
future. Each day the Pendragon and Cymbrogi rode out to their labours, and each night returned delirious
with exhaustion and companionship. Accordingly, the day of completion, hastened by favourable weather
and the unquenchable ardour of the Cymbrogi labourers, arrived far sooner than expected.
Though I did no work myself, I often rode out to watch as the builders, seized with the fervour of
creation, vied to outdo one another in the quality of their work. And despite my inexplicable aversion, I
will say that it grew into a fine and handsome place: six-sided, with neat straight walls rising from a tiered
base and topped by a steep-peaked roof of wood covered with red Roman tile - God knows where they
got that! - and a series of curved steps. It was not large, but Arthur allowed that it was, after all, only a
beginning; in time, the shrine could be expanded, or attached to a much larger structure, which he had in
mind. 'But this will do for now,' he declared, well pleased with the result.
As the turning of the year approached, Arthur began making plans for the Grail Shrine's consecration.
He called for messengers to summon those he wished to attend the august event. I volunteered at once,
since the errand provided me a welcome escape from what I had begun to think of as the delirium which
had overtaken almost everyone.
I say 'almost' because there were others, like myself, who regarded the absurd euphoria with increasing
suspicion. Myrddin, as ever, pleased to garner whatever he could of the builders' craft, would speak no
word against the shrine or the Grail, but his praise was ever guarded and he held himself aloof from any
talk of miracles, or thousand-year reigns of peace, and such. Likewise Bedwyr, who always seemed to
find one important concern or another to occupy him -1 know he often fished with Avallach. Llenlleawg,
I believe, never so much as rode out to the site; it was whispered that Lady Morgaws demanded his
constant attention. Cai helped often, however, and Cador only now and then, as it pleased him.
Thus, Bedwyr, Cador, and I, along with a score of Cymbrogi, rode out one cool, bright morning to our
various destinations, far and wide throughout the realm and beyond. I was sent to Londinium to bring
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back Charis, who yet laboured there in one of the plague camps. Before leaving, I asked Llenlleawg if he
would ride with me - for all he appeared so haggard and ill at ease that I reckoned a little sojourn away
from the overheated mood of the Tor would be no bad thing - but he declined. 'No,' he said, 'my place is
here with Arthur.'
'Of course,' I replied lightly, 'no one doubts it. But Arthur himself has commanded me to go and escort
Charis home.'
'Then go. It is nothing to do with me.'
I watched him as he stumped away, and could not help thinking that he was no longer the man I knew. I
resolved to bring the matter to Myrddin's attention at the first opportunity when I returned. Be that as it
may, it was with a sense of relief that I left the Tor - relief that I might be quit of the tedium and hypocrisy
of maintaining a pretence of support when my heart was not in it. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]