This warrior rode straight to where the game was being played on the mantle and, without dismounting, said, 'Lord and Pendragon, Emperor of the Island of the Mighty and all other lands of consequence, I beseech you.'

'Why do you beseech me?'

'I would have you know that the best warriors in the world, the nobles and kings of Britain and their vaunted retinues are being killed by wild beasts – so many, in fact, that it will not be easy to defend this worlds-realm henceforth.'

'This will never do,' replied the emperor when he had heard the sorry report.

'Tell me what is to be done and I will see that it is accomplished,' said the warrior.

'Take my sword in your hand and carry it before you by the blade, in the sign of the cross of Christ.'

The warrior rode directly to the place where the battle was going badly for the Dragon Flight, and there he raised the emperor's sword, holding it before him by the naked blade. When the wild beasts saw the flashing sword making the sign of the cross of Christ they fell to quaking with fear and lay down and became meek as newborn lambs.

Urien of Reget went down in sharp defeat at the emperor's hands. But the emperor still wanted a fair match at the game, so he called out, 'Who else is there to pit skill against me?'

'I will try my skill and cunning against you, O Mighty Pendragon,' said a king, stepping from the throng.

'I recognize you, Maglocunus,' replied the Pendragon. 'Very well, take your move and see that you make it your best.'

They bent low over the game-board, moving the golden pieces here and there as the game demanded. They had not played'Very long when there arose the greatest uproar yet heard anywhere in the world. Though the din was terrible, far worse was the silence that followed. Everyone trembled and looked around fearfully.

Out of the east came a warrior on a horse of dappled-grey with four red legs, as if the animal had swum through blood, yet its hooves were green. Both rider and horse were clothed in strange, heavy armour that gleamed like silver, with rivets and fastenings of russet. The warrior carried a long, heavy spear of grooved ashwood coloured half with white lime and half with blue woad, the leaf-shaped blade covered with fresh blood. On his head he wore a helm set about with shining crystals and crested with the image of a griffin holding a powerful gem in his mouth.

This warrior approached the emperor and cried out, 'Lord and Pendragon! Your warriors are slaughtered, your people killed, all who followed you are scattered and oppressed!'

Hearing this the Exalted Pendragon seized up a handful of pieces from the gwyddbwyll board and squeezed them in his hand until they were ground to fine gold dust. Then, looking around angrily, he demanded of the royal throng, 'What is to become of us? Why do you stand there empty-handed? Why do you stand idly by, watching a stupid game, while the enemy has laid waste to our lands and slaughtered our people? Are you even men at all?'

The emperor rose up and threw the game-board from him. He called for his sword and his horse. He took up his spear and his shield, and put on his dragon-crested helm. 'Whoever would follow me, take up your sword!' he cried.

At these words the crowd vanished – they simply faded from sight and blew away like mist. The tents faded from sight, and the horses and warriors and all that had gathered in the vale below Caer Baddon. Lastly the emperor and his son vanished, taken from sight by a shining cloud that covered them and bore them away.

Of the great host, not so much as a footprint remained. Everything disappeared, leaving only Rhonabwy and his two friends standing just where they were. 'Most wretched of men are we,' cried Rhonabwy miserably, 'for we have seen a wonder, but no one is here to tell us what it means! On top of that, we are lost and now must find our way home as best we can.'

No sooner had these words passed his lips than did a wind begin to blow and howl, and rain and hail begin to fall. Thunder thundered and lightning flashed, and in the chaos of the storm Rhonabwy awoke to find himself once more on the yellow ox-hide in the noisome black hall. His friends stood over him, their brows wrinkled with worry, for Rhonabwy had slept three days and three nights.

So ends the Dream of Rhonabwy.

The Emrys sang out of his bard's awen, and would not speak of his song or its meaning. The next day, however, I sensed this same unease in his conversation with Avallach. Clearly, something had begun preying on the Emrys' mind. I determined to discover what it was. Over the next days and nights I stayed alert to any word that might illumine me.

Our sojourn proceeded uneventfully. I spent several days wandering along the cliff-tops above the sea, watching the grey seals dive for fish and sun themselves on the rocks. I talked to the Fair Folk, when I could engage one of them, and struck an awkward friendship with one of the grooms in Avallach's stable. In this way, I learned some surprising things about the Fair Folk, but nothing about the matter I sought.

At night I stayed near the Emrys so that I might hear all that passed. My vigil availed me nothing, however, until the last night. We were to leave the next morning, to be in Caer Lial when the Pendragon arrived – which would be soon.

The Emrys sat between the Fisher King and his mother, and I served them so as to be near. They talked of crops and cattle, of fishing, and the winter weather on the island…

All at once, the Emrys grew serious. He dropped his knife onto the table, letting it fall from his hand as if he lacked the strength to grasp it. He turned to his mother and said, 'Where is Morgian?'

Chads' hand fluttered to her mouth. 'What do you mean?'

'Must I ask again?'

'Oh, Hawk, you cannot think she would – ' she did not say the words. 'Why do you ask?'

'Since coming here I have sensed her presence. If she has not been here, she is surely coming.'

Avallach, I noticed, stopped eating and swallowed hard, as if choking down the food in his mouth. He laid down his knife and gripped the edge of the board with his hands.

He knows something! I thought, and wondered whether the Emrys would see this. But he did not turn towards the Fisher King and continued to speak only to his mother. 'Do you think she would do this?' Charis asked. 'Why?'

The Emrys shook his head slowly. 'I cannot say. Her ways are beyond reckoning.' Then he reached out his hand and took one of his mother's and pressed it hard. 'Beware,' he cautioned. 'There is a matter here I do not know, and an end I cannot see. Please, beware.'

No more was said and, once it had passed, talk returned to more pleasant things. Still, I wondered. The Wise Emrys' words found a place within me and echoed like a hand-struck harp: if she has not been here, she is surely coming.

I did not find opportunity to speak to the Emrys about what I had seen at the Fisher King's table until we were aboard ship and well away from the island. The Emrys moved apart from the sailors to stand gazing at the waves scattering before the ship's sharp prow. I hurried to him and said, 'Lord Emrys, a word, please.'

He answered absently, without turning. 'Yes? What is it, Aneirin?'

Strangely, I did not say the thing I meant to say, but spoke something perhaps closer to my heart. 'Why did you wish me to come with you to Ynys Avallach?'

He considered this for a goodly time and then answered, 'I do not know, boy.' His eyes did not turn from the sea. 'Why do you ask?'

Now it was my turn to admit ignorance.

‘Well,' observed the Emrys sagely, 'you see how it is.' He smiled and turned to look at me. I must have presented a sobering countenance, for he asked, 'Ah, there is a deeper thing that you have not said. Is this so?'

'Yes, Emrys.'