I liked him at once, and asked him about Caer Lial and the Pendragon. He answered me forthrightly and began to tell me about the ordering of the Pendragon's house and all I should know to be part of it.

He also told me about the Great Emrys, although I had been hearing stories of him since I was old enough to hear anything. The more he talked, the faster beat my heart to think that soon I would be meeting this exalted person in the flesh. I was nearly overwhelmed by the thought. Me, Aneirin, serving the Chief Bard of the Island of the Mighty!

At midday we left the old track and turned due west into the hills. But a while later we dropped down into the vale of Nith and followed the river a little south, to a sand-bounded peninsula. Here, on the foundation of an ancient hill fort was Arthur's rotunda erected. As we approached I could see the shapely form rising sharp against the sky. The hill on which it sat overlooked the sea, and at first I wondered at the wisdom of placing this secret edifice on a promontory where any passing ship could see it. But upon reaching the place I learned that although the expanse of sea was in full view of the hill, the rotunda itself remained below the crest of the mound, well out of sight of the casual observer.

We dismounted at the foot of the hill near some tents which had been set up for the labourers who worked on the shrine. These were empty now; there was no one else around. So, as Tegyr set about tethering the horses, I walked up to the shrine for a closer look.

The rotunda itself appeared strange to my eyes. Certainly, I had never seen a building like it: fully round, constructed on a series of circular stone foundations or tables of diminishing size, narrower at the entrance and then swelling gracefully out before curving inward as it rose to meet the sky. At first sight the thing appeared nothing more than an immense beehive of the kind often made of braided rope – but far more graceful and imposing. Indeed, the size and beauty of the rotunda and its situation on the sea inspired peace. The eye savoured the rising curve of the dome, the sea played upon the ear, and the soul drank in the tranquillity of the holy place.

I gazed upon the sacred edifice and felt my spirit yearn to be pan of all that this holy shrine symbolized: peace, beauty, honour, valour, courage… It was the Kingdom of Summer distilled into stone.

And such stone! The subtle blues and grays and whites were so worked to give light and colour and shape to the whole, in such a clever way that I did not wonder men passing by would not see it. The hues of sky and sea and cloud were its colours, and in certain lights and at certain times of day it would all but vanish.

If my first glimpse of the shrine awoke in me the desire to draw near and pray, my first glance at the Wise Emrys provoked the opposite effect. He came charging out from the interior of the rotunda, a mason's hammer in his upraised hand. 'Halt!' he called, in a voice that would have cowed a charging bull. I stopped and he flew towards me.

He was tall, much taller than I expected, and much younger. He was reputed to be of the Fair Folk, yet I had imagined him a very old man. He had known Vortigern; he had known Saint Dafyd; he had met Macsen Wledig! He was ancient!

Yet the man bearing down upon me was no older in appearance than my own father. His hair was dark and full, with only a fleck of silver here and there. Though his brow was lined, his countenance was still unwrinkled, and there were no creases about his eyes. His eyes! They were clear and deep and the colour of bright gold. I thought immediately of the soaring hawk and hunting wolf.

'I thought you were blind!' I blurted out the first thing that came into my head.

'I was, but no longer,' he replied. 'Who are you and what do you want here?"

Tegyr, who had been tending the horses, came running to my aid. The Emrys turned on him. 'Tegyr, it is you. Why do you come here like this?'

'Forgive me, Emrys. I should have signalled our arrival.' He glanced at the shrine soaring above us. 'The work is going well, Emrys. It is beautiful.'

The Emrys turned and glanced over his shoulder. 'It is nearly finished – at last,' he said. 'Only a few small matters remain.' Then he turned back to me. 'But you, boy – you have not answered me,' he said abruptly.

'My lord?'

'Your name – if you have one. What are you called?' He gazed so fiercely into my eyes that I felt his touch upon my soul and quite forgot who or what I was.

'An- Aneirin,' I stammered uncertainly. My own name sounded strange and unnatural in my ears. 'I am Aneirin ap Caw, Emrys.'

The Great Emrys tossed his head. 'You are well named, boy. Aptly named.' To Tegyr he said, 'Why is he here?'

'Cai has sent him, Emrys. He is to help you. If you do not wish him to stay, I will take him away.'

The Emrys regarded me narrowly. I could already feel myself in the saddle and heading back to Caer Lial. My heart sank to my feet. Most wretched of men, I felt myself rejected.

But the Emrys needed the help of two willing hands. I do not flatter myself that it was anything more than that. Yet it was enough for me. 'Since he is here, let him stay,' the Emrys said, and I was saved.

'Emrys,' said Tegyr, 'I must return to Caer Lial at once. Is there anything you require? I will have it brought.'

'Only this: bring word when Gwenhwyvar has returned. I will-have a message for her then.'

'It will be done, Lord Emrys.' Tegyr turned and hurried away. I saw that he took my horse with him.

I turned to find the Emrys already striding up the hill. I ran after him. 'What would you have me do, lord?'

Without stopping or turning round, he called back, 'Do you know how to make a broom?'

I had never made one, but I had seen it done often enough by the women at Trath Gwryd. 'I think so,' I answered.

'Then make one!' the Emrys said, and continued on. I spent the rest of the day gathering the various twigs and sticks I would need, and then set about trying to build the thing. I did not presume to enter the rotunda, or even to go near it. I went about my task and kept to myself.

At dusk the Emrys emerged and called me to him. 'Are you hungry, Aneirin ap Caw?' the Emrys asked when I had climbed the gentle slope to the top of the hill. He pointed to his feet and I saw that a bundle lay before him upon the steps of the shrine. The Emrys sat down and unwrapped the rags made of dried and woven grass. Inside was new cheese and tough black bread, and a small joint of cold roast mutton. "This is brought to me by the people hereabouts.'

'There are people?' Well I might ask. I had seen no sign of any holding or habitation since leaving the king's city. And except for the labourers' tents, I saw no place where men might dwell.

'Hill Folk,' he replied, and touched the tip of a finger to the faded blucfhain mark tattooed on his cheek. 'I once was one of them.'

The Emrys of Britain broke the bread in his hands and handed me half the loaf. 'Come, take it, eat. You will not taste better."

Hill Folk food! I had heard all about the bhean sidhe, of course – as who would not, growing up in the northern hills? But I had never seen one of these mysterious creatures, nor did I know anyone who had. They might as well be Otherworld beings for all we knew of them. Many reasonable men doubted their existence altogether.

I stared at the dense, black loaf in my hand. It was bread, to be sure, but it smelled of fennel and other herbs I could not name. 'Eat, boy!' the Emrys told me. 'You cannot work if you do not eat – and I mean you to work.'

Lifting a corner of the loaf to my mouth, I bit off a chunk and chewed. The Emrys spoke truly; the bread was good; I had never tasted better and told him so.

The Emrys sat down on the step but, since he did not bid me join him, I stood to eat my meal. I fell at once to gazing out onto the sea to the west, and southward to the pale green hills across the bay. The breeze off the sea was cool. Lark song showered down from the clear blue sky, and I tilted my head back, shading my eyes with my hands and squinting into the airy void. I could scarce see the larks, so high did they fly.