Morgian was looking at him curiously. “Another lapse,” she sighed lightly. “It is polite to tell a maid that her name enchants, that its utterance is music on the lips.” She rose from her place beside the caldron and stepped toward him. “Am I that disagreeable to you?”
“Forgive me, lady,” Taliesin replied. “I seem destined to blunder.”
“I shall not forgive you, singer,” Morgian said, coming closer, a sly, seductive smile curling around her lips. “I shall have my satisfaction.”
Taliesin stepped backward. She reached out and laid a hand on his arm. “Where are you going, Taliesin? Stay with me, Lord of Summer.”
“Why do you call me that?” Taliesin’s voice grated like gravel under hoof. “Where did you hear that name?”
Morgian’s smile deepened. “Did not Avallach give you lands?”
“Yes,” replied Taliesin uncertainly, “last night.”
Morgian brought her face close to Taliesin’s. Her breath was sweet on the air and scented of apple blossom. “They are the Summerlands,” she replied with feigned innocence. “And you are the Summer Lord.” She raised a hand to his face and kissed him.
The touch of her skin on his was like the lick of a flame, or of ice; it burned with a cool sensation, frozen fire. Again Taliesin felt the tug of his spirit toward her. Some part of him wanted to stay with her, to make love to her as she invited him.
The rational part of him recoiled from the kiss, as from a backhanded blow. The sky dimmed and the earth rolled beneath his feet. He pulled away from her embrace and began to run, stumbled and fell on his hands and knees, hauled himself up and ran again.
“Come back, Taliesin,” Morgian called behind him in a strange singsong. He glanced back to see her beckoning to him, exultation glowing on her face. “You will come back… Taliesin, you will come to me…”
Charis arrived at the orchard to see Taliesin as he emerged from the grove. She tied her horse to the branch beside his and hurried to meet him. “What is wrong?” she asked, her smile of welcome fading. “Has something happened?”
He hugged her to him, and the warmth of her body soothed him. “There is nothing wrong,” he said. “Nothing happened.”
She pulled back and held him at arm’s length. “Are you certain? You looked so frightened just then. I thought”
“Shhh… It does not matter. Nothing happened.” Taliesin placed a finger against her lips. “You are here now. That is all I care about.”
“But I should not have come,” she said sternly, pushing herself from him. The next moment she softened and said, “Oh, Taliesin, it can never be. My father is very angry; he has set himself against us. He will not let us marry.”
“Why?” he asked softly, pressing near.
She held him away. “I have not often seen him so angered. He refused to speak of it to me last night.”
“But Avallach has given us lands,” he told her. “If our people are to live as neighbors, I do not see why we should not live as husband and wife.”
“It is not so simple as that and you know it, Taliesin.” She turned her back to him. “I have told you-we are not meant to be together.”
“Charis,” he said firmly, “look at me.”
Charis faced him again, her brow wrinkled in a frown. “You know that I want you, Charis-do you want me?”
“It does not matter what I want.”
“Why? Why should you deny yourself so? Are you not worthy to love and be loved?”
“Love?” Charis shook her head sadly. “Do not speak to me of love, Taliesin.”
“Then tell me the word that will win you, and I will speak it. I will speak the stars of heaven into a crown for your head; I will speak the flowers of the field into a cloak; I will speak the racing stream into a melody for your ears and the voices of a thousand larks to sing it; I will speak the softness of the night for your bed and the warmth of summer for your coverlet; I will speak the brightness of flame to light your way and the luster of gold to shine in your smile; I will speak Until the hardness in you melts away and your heart is free once more.”
“Pretty words, singer. Perhaps you will put them in one of your songs.” The voice came from the trees behind them.
Charis whirled toward the sound. “Morgian!” She scanned the trees and pathways of the grove but saw no one. “Morgian, where are you? Come out, and be quick about it!”
There was a long silence and then the rustle of a blossomed branch and out stepped Morgian, smiling wickedly. “Are you jealous, sister? Oh, do not be angry. It was only a game; an idle curiosity, if you like. I meant nothing by it.”
“What are you doing here?” Charis demanded indignantly, the color rising to her face.
“I met her earlier,” explained Taliesin, trying to dispel the tension of the moment. “We talked for a little while I waited. I did not know she was your sister.”
“Did you not tell Taliesin about me?” wondered Morgian innocently. “Why not? Were you afraid I would steal him from you?”
“Leave us!” Hands on hips, Charis stood unassailable.
“You cannot send me away!” Morgian advanced menacingly. Her eyes glinted hard in the sunlight like chips of green granite; her voice was a coiled serpent. “I will not go.”
Taliesin moved between the two women. To Morgian he said, “You have your satisfaction. Go now, and let us part as friends.”
Morgian’s eyes flicked from Charis to Taliesin; her expression, her mood, her whole being softened instantly. “Friends, yes, and a good deal more,” she murmured.
“Morgian!” Charis hissed. “I am not afraid of you or your Mage’s tricks. Leave us! And never interfere again.”
“I am going,” replied Morgian lightly. “But do not think you have seen the last of me.”
CHAPTER TEN
Dafyd listened, a frown appearing now and again on his face. But when Taliesin finished telling him what had happened in the grove, the priest smiled reassuringly and said, “You are right to be concerned, Taliesin. But you are in no danger that I can see as long as you remain strong in the faith. The maid Morgian may have power-probably does; I have no doubt that what you say is true. But the power of our Savior is stronger still. God will not abandon those he has called, nor will he allow them to be taken from him by the Evil One.”
Taliesin was encouraged by this. “Tell us, good brother, how is it that the Savior knows his own?”
“Why, by our faith in him. And all who Believe proclaim his death and resurrection in baptism-the baptism of water with which our Lord himself was baptized by John. It is a simple rite, but most holy. In fact, I baptized King Avallach not long ago.”
“Can you do it for us too?” asked Taliesin, reaching for Charis’ hand.
“Certainly,” remarked Dafyd, his kindly face breaking into a grin. “Shall we do it now? There will be no better time.”
“I agree,” said Taliesin. “Let us do it now.”
“Collen,” Dafyd called to the shrine, “put down your tools and come with us! We are going down to the lake to make Christians of our friends here.”
So together the four of them walked down to the lake, the priests singing a Latin hymn, Taliesin and Charis behind them, silent, their steps resolute and slow. When they reached the lake, Dafyd strode into the water, stopping only when the water rose to his waist. He turned and spread his hands to them, mantle and robe swirling around him. “Come to me, friends; the Kingdom of God draws near.”
Charis and Taliesin stepped into the water and waded to where Dafyd stood, Collen singing all the while, his steady tenor resounding over the water. Dafyd placed them one on either side of him and turned them to face one another. “It is a beautiful thing for a human being to be born anew. I want you both to remember it always.”
With that he spread his hands and lifted his face and began to pray, saying, “Heavenly Father, we thank you for the gift of water, a sign of your cleansing and reviving us: we thank you that through the still, deep waters of death you brought your son and raised him to new life as King of Heaven. Bless this water and your servants who are washed and cleansed from all sin and made one with our Lord, both in his death and new life. Remember them, Heavenly Father, and give them peace and hope and life everlasting. Amen.”