'Oh, Morgian had not been idle. Gathering the scattered threads of her force, concentrating the far-flung strands of her energies, marshalling the vast, twisted array of her weaponry – this had been all her work since her failed attack on me. And she had grown mighty through it.

'Make no mistake, she meant to finish what she had begun. And that soon – before Arthur grew too powerful in the Light, before the flowering of the Summer Realm rendered her weak and harmless.

'So she must seek me out and destroy me. Once that was accomplished, there would be nothing to restrain her any more. She would grow from strength to strength as her seeds bore fruit. And her evil would be beyond imagining.

'I despaired. I tell you the truth, I did. I knew all this; I saw it all clearly, but I was powerless to prevent it. Probably I was already too late. My spirit cried within me. I wept for my weakness.

'Yet, by the courage of the Living Light, I gazed into the very shadow of despair, into the black ugly heart of the thing I have hated and feared all my life. And I saw… this I saw: glory to the Saving God, I saw that my solitary hope lay in taking the fight to her. I must be the one to confront her.

'A scant hope, you may think. But it was, I considered, the only weapon I had, and all that would be given me if I did not take it. Well, I took it. I embraced it. I tell you, I gloried in it. I prayed to the All-Wise God for the wisdom to use it well.

'Then I waited. I fasted and prayed, and when I felt the quickening of my soul I came here to this place.' By this, I think he meant the sea crag where I had found him. 'Taking no thought for myself – whether I might live or die, I tell you it did not matter any more! I would gladly give my life to banish the Darkness once for all.

'Curiously, once my feet were on the path, comfort was granted me in the form of understanding. For at last I understood that Morgian was trapped by her fear – her fear of Arthur and of me, and of the Kingdom of Summer – and she was far more desperate than she could allow anyone to know.

'Lord and Saviour, it is true! Do you see? It is the fear – the insatiable fear that is companion to great evil. She that must ever appear Sovereign of Fear, is herself its servant.

'And this is her failing. Great Light! This is her weakness! The Queen of Air and Darkness can never admit her fear, her unbearable weakness, even to herself. She must appear to hold the very power she lacks. She must seem always to possess the very thing which remains for ever beyond her grasp.

'Oh, but I have feared. Great Light, you know / have felt the terror of death and the despair of weakness. I have known failure and grief. I have borne the pitiable short-fall of frailty, yes, and the loathsome impotence of the flesh.

'I have known and endured these things. I have drained the cup that was poured out for me, and I did not thrust it aside. I understood that this was my strength. By this I would conquer.

'Do you see it now? It is beautiful, is it not? The designs of God are ever subtle, but beautiful in their subtlety… ever glorious. So be it!

'I tell you I rejoiced in this knowledge. I made it my battle song; I forged sword and shield from it. I wore it like a helm and battleshirt. And I rode to meet the trial I had avoided for so long.'

Here Myrddin paused, reached out a hand for his cup. I gave it to him and he drank. It was full dark now. The night air had turned cool. The dew would form heavy tonight, but the fire would keep us dry.

I tugged Myrddin's cloak closer about him, took the cup from his hand when he had finished, and poured more water into it. Then I settled back, pulling my own cloak round my shoulders, and I waited for Myrddin to speak again. From the branches of a nearby tree, a nightingale began its lilting-song. The voice of melancholy; sweet sorrow in melody.

As if this were the signal he had been waiting for, Myrddin began to speak again. But his voice had changed. There was sadness in his tone, and pain. A pain deep and wide as grief.

'I did not know where or how I should meet her. Nevertheless, I considered that she would know of my coming and likely would meet me before I wandered very far, for she could not abide the light that was in me. In this I was not mistaken.

'I thought it would be at night, in darkness. I trusted her to choose her element, and she did.

'In the time between times, when the veil between this worlds-realm and the next grows thin, she came to me. I had camped for the night in the ruin of an oak grove. I had slept a little, but grew restless and awoke. The moon had slipped low in the sky, but it shone enough to see by.

'She rode a black horse, and was dressed much as when we had met that day in Belyn's court: black cloak and mantle, tall black boots, long gloves, her face hidden beneath a hood. She had come alone, and this surprised me. For she certainly knew why I had come.

'She knew, but her self-deception argued for boldness, and her debauched pride exulted in her superior strength. She came alone because her vanity demanded it.

'Yet, if she was wary, she was also calm. The swarming force of her hate did not gather at once. Curiosity, I think, held it back for the moment. She could neither understand nor credit my intention. Such is her intelligence, however, that she would not attack a foe until she knew the weapons he would use.

'Of course, my weapons were unknown to her: courage, hope, faith. I displayed them fully and without guile, but she could not discern them.

'I spoke first. "So, Morgian," I said, rising as she approached. "I knew you would find me; I prayed it would be soon."

'She answered me. "You are far from home, Myrddin Wylt," she said, as she swung herself down from the saddle. I could read nothing from her tone.

'"Perhaps," I allowed. "We are both strangers here, I think."

'She rankled at my suggestion. "You flatter yourself too highly if you think we meet as equals. I am as far above your small powers as the sun above the barren earth you toil over, as high as the hawk above the flea that troubles your wretched flesh. We are not met as equals."

'"Once you offered me friendship," I replied. A strange thing to say; I do not know why I said it. Could it be that God's mercy is such that it could embrace even Morgian? On Jesu's behalf then, I made the offer. "It is not too late, Morgian. Turn back, I will meet you. You can be redeemed."

'She scorned it, as I knew she would. "Do you think to bind me with that, dear Myrddin? Do you think your contemptible god interests me at all?"

"The offer of peace has been made, Morgian. I do not withdraw it."

'She let fall the reins from her hand and approached me slowly. "Is that why you have come?" I could feel the icy heat of her hatred begin to burn.

'"Why do you hate me so?"

'She made a motion with her hand and my camp fire leapt higher. Whereupon she lifted the veil from her face so that I should admire her dire beauty. Such wasted splendour, such tainted elegance. Oh, her allure is astonishing, dazzling; and as potent as her spite – and that is well nigh boundless. Yet, to see her is to know the mocking futility of the gilded tomb.

She pouted, and even her frown was beguiling. "But I do not hate you, Myrddin. I feel nothing for you at all. You are nothing to me – less than nothing."

'It was a lie, of course. Mistress of Lies, she owned no other language. "Then why waste the breath to tell me?" I asked. "Why bother to confront me now?"

'Morgian's eyes flashed. "What I do, I do to please myself. If it amuses me to speak to you, that is reason enough." She sidled round me, her palms pressed together, gloved finger-tips touching her lips. "Besides, we are kin, you and I. What would people say of me if I refused hospitality to a kinsman?" She was still uncertain. She suspected treachery who could no longer apprehend the truth.