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Ogryvan of Dollgellau and his chieftains and druids; Rhain, prince of Gwynedd, Cere-digawn's cousin;
Antorius and his brother king, Regulus, of Canti in Lloegres; Owen Vinddu of Rheged; Hoel of
Armor-ica, braving the winter seas, with his sons, Ban and Bors.
Still others came, and not lords and chieftains only, but holy men as well: Samson, most reverent priest
of Goddodin in the north; the renowned Bishop Teilo, and abbots Ffili and Asaph, noble churchmen of
Lloegres; and Kentigern, the much loved priest of Mon; Bishop Trimoriun and Dubricius, both learned
and respected priests of the church at Caer Legionis; and, of course, Gwythelyn with all the monks of
Dafyd's monastery at Llandaff.
Kings and lords and churchmen from all the realms of the Island of the Mighty came to uphold Aurelius
as High King. And each had brought gifts: objects of gold and silver, swords, fine horses and hunting
hounds, good cloth, ash bows and steel-tipped arrows, hides and skins and furs of finest quality,
silver-rimmed drinking horns, casks of mead and dark beer, and more.
All brought gifts according to their wealth and rank, and I realized that they had been long anticipating
this event and awaiting it with eagerness  even as I had predicted. Time had worked its wonder in their
hearts, magnifying Aurelius in their eyes. They came to Londinium to make a High King, and they would
see him crowned with all honour and esteem.
Did I say all? There was one whose absence fairly shouted: Gorlas. He alone risked the High King's
wrath with his defiance. With the Christ Mass but one day away, there was still no word or sign from
Gorlas. This weighed more heavily on me and on Uther than it did on Aurelius, who was so busy
receiving the gifts and honour of his lords that he did not appear to notice Gorlas' slight.
But Uther noticed. As the days dwindled and preparations for the Feast of the Mass of Christ hurried
apace, he stormed the upper rooms of Urbanus' house, angry, shouting, pounding tables and doorposts
with his fists.
'Give me twenty men and I will bring back Gorlas' head for the High King's crowntaking, by Lieu and
Jesu I would!'
I answered, 'Calm yourself, Uther. Lieu might approve of your gift, but I heartily doubt Jesu would find
favour in it.'
'Well, am I to stand by and do nothing while that whore's whelp thumbs his nose at Aurelius? Tell me,
Merlin, what am I to do? Mind, I will not suffer Gorlas' impudence lightly.'
'I say that it is Aurelius' affair, Uther, not yours. If the High King wishes to overlook Gorlas' insult, so be
it. No doubt your brother will deal with it at a more opportune time.'
Uther subsided, but he was not appeased. He continued to grumble and growl, snarling at all who
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approached him, making himself so unpleasant that I finally sent him out to look for Pelleas, who had not
yet arrived. For I knew Pelleas would have come by now unless prevented, and I had begun to be
anxious over him.
I could have studied the fire for some sign of him, but I will tell you the truth, that since my healing and
release from Celyddon, reading the embers, or gazing into the seeing bowl had become distasteful to me.
Perhaps I feared that in walking the paths of the future I might meet Morgian  that occurred to me and
the prospect chilled my heart. Or perhaps I was restrained by something else. In any event, I did not care
to satisfy my curiosity with the fire or bowl, and I would not unless need were great.
So, Uther, glad to have something to do, ordered his horse to be saddled, and gathered a small band of
companions and rode out from the city at midday. I was free to go about my own affairs, which included
visiting Custennin and Tewdrig.
This kept me occupied well into the night, for the noblemen came to Aurelius one after another without
cease, drinking his health, giving gifts, and pledging themselves and their heirs to his service. On the eve
of the Christ Mass, the High King was awash in a floodtide of fealty and well-wishing. I spoke to this one
and that, gathering information and knowledge, learning what I could from the lords about whose realms I
was ignorant.
Dawn was but a whisper away when I finally made my way to my bedchamber  only to realize that
Uther had not yet returned. Notwithstanding my reluctance, I was tempted to stir up the embers and see
what had befallen him. But instead I donned my cloak and went to find my horse. The monk whose
charge was the stable lay sleeping in his corner on a pallet of fresh straw, snoring. Loth to wake him, I
saddled my mount and rode out into cold, silent streets.
The gatekeeper was nowhere to be seen, but the gate was not locked so I opened the gate myself and
hastened out. Gusts of wind hissed through frost-stiffened foliage along the road outside the walls. The
heavens were heavy with unshed snow, and shone like molten lead in the rising sun. I turned west with
the road, knowing Uther would have ridden that way in search of Pelleas. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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