Daughter Of The Morning
A Test Of Worth

Herne handed agoblet to Cerian, her fingers closed around the cool stemgratefully, “Thank you, Lord.”

“Are you feeling better,Lady?” Herne asked.

“Less light-headed,” Cerianreplied, “but what happens now?”

“You have passedone of the most difficult tests, now we journey to Lady Nimüe, sheholds the Grail.”

“But all the legendsof Arthur and his knights say that the Grail was taken up to heaven.”

“There is a reason forthat,” Herne mused for a moment. “A reason that I cannot explain here, but soon you must take theTest of The Keeper.”

“Ah,” Cerian swallowedhard. “When?”

“Tonight,” Herne noddedgravely, “We must journey to an especial feast day - I shall wake you.”

“How do I get home?” Ceri quavered.

Tenderly Herne removed thegoblet from her hands and drew Cerian to her feet, with an arm around hershoulders he led her to the far end of the room. A pair of doorposts and a lintelappeared. “Walk through and you will arrive exactly where you were this morning.” He informed her.

“How much time has passed?”Ceri murmured.

“Barely three hours in this world or perhaps half a lifetime in your own.”

“I thought you said thattime had no meaning here?”

“I did indeed,”Herne laughed, “but Lady, much has happened here and you are notthe child I met a day ago - nor yet are you the woman you wish tobe. Tell me - how much time do you thinkhas passed?”

“Almost half alifetime,” Ceri whispered, “I have become someone I do not know.”

“You will eventuallyknow her,” Herne bent and kissed her knuckles, “Time being what it is, it isdifferent to all men-”

“And for us that canmove through Time - it is even more so.” Her eyes snapped back into focus and she whimpered, “Lord, helpme!”

Herne’s xanthous eyes became even more intense and he bit his lip, “Lady, I may advise you, defend you and even comfort you, but I cannothelp you. Your latent power isemerging. I do not know what your gift is, you yourself must discover that without my aid. Unfortunately power such as ours brings with it great knowledge and responsibility. Be brave, little one.”

“I do not know if I can bebrave,” Ceri told him doubtfully.

“I doubt thatanyone does,” Herne replied. “However weshall soon see. You mustlearn Latin and Brêton, your English is as foreign to theSaxons as your clothing would be.”

“But I thought that thispower would enable me to speak any language I chose?” Ceri frowned, “stories say that.”

“That’s why they are stories,” Herne replied. “Reality is very different. Go. I’ll see you tonight.”

Ceri nodded and justas she was about to step through the doorway, she heard Herne’s voicebehind her, “Leave your window open, I need to be able to enteryour room to wake you.” Then she hadstepped through the portal and disappeared from Herne’s sight.

Herne watched as thedoorposts and lintel slowly disappeared.

“You didn’t tell her thetruth?”

He turned and regarded thewoman quietly, “Greetings, Morgana. Do you usually drop in unannounced?”

“On occasions such as these,Cernunnos.” Morgana replied. Her jet-black hair was held back by a jewelledheadband.

Herne surveyed her figurequietly, “I’m not sure emerald is your colour.”

Morgana laughed and smoothedher pale hands down the front of her velvet dress, “This is old, Cernunnos. ButI have not worn it for a thousand years or so.”

Herne sighed, “What do youwant, Enchantress?”

“So formal, Cernunnos? Iremember when we were lovers. Never have I felt such passion as the years I wasin your arms, you were Lord of the Underworld and I loved thee as I have neverloved another. Not even my husband.”

“Which one, Morgana?”Herne’s mouth twisted in a smile; “Thou hast had many husbands.”

“I have indeed, Cernunnos.”She replied shortly, her green eyes suddenly hard. “But you were my bestbeloved.” She turned away from him and walked across the carpet her jet-blackhair flying behind her. She turned just before she reached the chair Cerian hadbeen sitting in and clasped her hands before her, “I came to ask thee toreconsider, Cernunnos. Return with me to thy kingdom, thy subjects ask me dailywhere their lord is and why he hath departed and I cannot answer them. Comeback with me, husband and let us rule our own country.”

Herne stared at her andsighed, “I cannot. You know that, Morgana. I have only this existence now and Iam tired beyond imagining.”

Morgana stared at him andthen moved across to stand beside him, “My Lord,” she said, her voice hadchanged subtly to a deeper timbre, “if thou art tired, let me refresh you;return with me, when we are home I shall bathe thy head with cool water andanoint it with scented unguents.” She moved to stand before him and gentlyreached up a hand and gently touched his antlers, “Your horns need attention,my lord,” she said softly.

Herne cupped her pointedface in his palms, “Would you care for them, wife?”

Morgana’s eyes shone with aniridescent light, “I would polish them daily, Lord. Only return with me and Imyself will clean them and polish them until they gleam.”

Her eyes closed as shereached up on tiptoe to kiss his lips, “My Lord,” she murmured, “Cernunnos,Lord of the Underworld, Guardian of the Dead.”

Herne caught her wristbefore she could touch his face, “No!” he snarled and his face became almostbestial, “you’ll not snare me that way again, Morgana. I’m proof against thatnow.”

Morgana’s eyes flashed greenfire and she pulled her hand away, “You were never proof against it,” she spat.“And now you’ll put your life and your future in the hands of that mortal.”

“What I do with my future ismy choice alone,” Herne replied quietly.

“She’ll break - enoughpressure and they all break.”

“Not this one, Morgana,there is fire and steel in her.” Herne turned and Morgana saw the containedrage in his eyes and backed away her emerald eyes suddenly filled with fear.She swallowed as Herne continued, “I know that you broke the others.”

“Mortals, pah!” Morgana snarled, “useless creatures. Constantlyfearing Death, seeking to evade him at every turn and then running straightinto his arms.”

“Yes, they are a paradox.”Cernunnos smiled, “are you finished, Enchantress?”

“You will not yield thisfoolish idea of release?”

“It is not release I seek,” Cernunnos replied, “ifyou have not grasped that, Morgana, then you have grasped nothing. Still, Icould forgive you that for ‘twas why I first fell in love with you. Yoursingle-mindedness of purpose was inspiring at times. Terrifying at others, butyou are still the same Morgana. That is your tragedy, I must try not to let itbecome mine.” He turned away from her and Morgana stared at his back, shelifted her hand as if with one finger she could consign him to the utter depthsof Hell and then her mouth set in a hard thin line.

“I shall have her, Cernunnos. And you – you willwatch her break before me.” she turned and walked into the shadows at theroom’s circumference.

Herne waited until only the crack and hiss of thefire was audible and then he murmured to himself, “I have no doubt that youwill try.”

Herne sighed and walked across to his sleepingquarters, a gentle voice behind him spoke, “You fear for her, Horned One.”

He turned to the bright, shining figure standingbehind him, “Yes. She is the last – if she fail, then we all fail.”

“But you principally.”

“Only that I would never replace rest.” Cernunnosremarked, “I have not yet told her of her heritage, nor of the dangers she willface. Morgana and her sister are dangerous enemies.”

“But she has the support of the Empress Tethys; andthe protection of the Invincible Sun and my assistance too if she should callupon me.”

“She may have to do that old friend,” Herne gesturedto a chair, “Sit. Tell me why you came.”

The man sat, placing the centurion’s helmet with itswhite, transverse crest on the table next to the chair and some of thebrightness faded from him. He sat and took the goblet Herne proffered, “TheDark is massing,” he spoke without emotion but there was a tremor in his voice.“They know that a saviour is expected and you must tell her soon who she is, ifthe Dark tell her before we do, we may lose her.”

“I cannot protect her once she leaves my realm,”Cernunnos looked around, “even if it only consists of this room. She is safe inher own home, both front and back portals are guarded by cold iron, no creaturefrom our world can abide it.”

“Do you miss your Kingdom?”

Herne grinned showing sharp white teeth, “I might aswell ask you if you miss being human, Mithras.” He rolled the bowl of thegoblet between his palms and sighed, “Sometimes, sometimes when I call the YellHounds and we gallop across the sky, I recall that they can return home theirkennels and I am exiled. But-“ he looked up at his friend as the beginnings ofa smile spread across his face, “I am also obliged to recall that my banishmentis self-chosen.”

The other grinned suddenly, “Aye. But what made youcome? You had a Kingdom, a Queen and a partner. Why give all that up?”

Cernunnos sighed again and shook his head, “I neverhad a partner – and I begin to wonder if I ever had a Kingdom; I did not ruleit – She ruled it through me. Or perhaps in spite of me.”

“She’s been here hasn’t she?” Herne’s silence wasall the assent he needed. “What did she promise this time?”

“The usual, my Kingdom, my throne, my people – withone exception.”

“And that was?”

“She wanted to be my partner again.”

Mithras raised an eyebrow, “Indeed. Then there mustbe something special about this particular female that worries her.”

“Yes, but what? The others had skills equal to hers,though none were healers. What could she have that would make Morgana soafraid?”

Mithras laughed and laid a hand on the fur-coveredlimb holding the goblet, “My friend you will have to discover that foryourself.” His face became sombre, “Beware Morgana, Cernunnos, she’s destroyedevery other child who might have saved thee; this girl survived because she washidden from her – if you intend to bring her before the company Morgana willknow.”

“Perhaps Morgana will not be as vigilant as allthat,” Herne mused, “Cerian must be shown to the Ancient Ones, the meetingplace cannot be closed until after the ceremony. We would not want to shut anyof the Light from the Glass Island.”

Mithras stood up, “Then I hope that she is welldefended.”

“That too remains to be seen,” Herne responded,suddenly looking very old.

Mithras tucked his helmet beneath his left arm andextended his right hand, Herne gripped his wrist fiercely, “May the InvincibleSun protect thee.”

“May He protect thee too,” Mithras replied, “and thePrincess.”

“The Princess especially.” Herne nodded. The Hunterset the two goblets on the ledge next to the pool of water and when he turnedback the room was empty.

For Cerian, the instant shestepped through the gateway the world spun before her eyes thenrighted itself and she stood with her hand on thedoorknob. She pushed open the door andRufus immediately leapt up at her. “Off!” She commanded, and Rufus dropped to the cork tiles.

Cerian knelt on the floorand ruffled the sandy ears, “Oh Ruf, what am I going to do?” The dogwhined and pawed her leg, Ceri pushed herself off the floor and said, “Iknow, Rufus, first I let you out. Comeon!”

Cerian began to prepare theevening meal around quarter to five as she usually did during the schoolholidays; nothing had changed all that much she still had to domost of the preparations by hand. Shereflected as she flaked the fish for the pie that Herne wasprobably right and that magic didn’t necessarily make everytask easier.

Dinner was the same asusual although for once Ceri was lost in her own thoughts. When the dinner plates had been cleared awayand her father had a cup of coffee before him he took Ceri’s hand in both hisown, casting a conspiratative glance at his wife hesaid, “Your mother and I have some wonderful news, she went to see the doctor today, we’re going to have a baby!”

Cerian stared atthem both and then suddenly rose to her feet and hugged them, ”I’m so pleased!” She gasped,“I’ve always wanted a baby brother or sister!”

“I’m not promisinganything,” her mother smiled, “we’ll see if we can give you a brother. Or aren’t you bothered?”

“Not really,” Cerianlaughed, “Be nice to have a brother though.”

Her mother raised oneflawless eyebrow and said, “I think it’s a bit late to put requests in now –don’t you?”

Ceri laughed and feltthe dark cloud of loneliness that had begun to overshadow her melt awaywith hardly a trace.

She lay awakefor a long time before sleep finally claimed her. She jerked awake to see Hernestanding over her with a lantern, the same pale cold lightemanating from it.

Cerian sat up and said, “Isit time?”

“Technically we are athousand years too late, but yes, we ought to depart.”

“May I dress and put someshoes on?”

“I have both foryou, come.” Herne respondedtightly.

Ceri nodded andpulled a dressing gown over her nightdress, “I’m ready,” she saidquickly.

“Thank you for leaving yourwindow open,” Herne’s voice was flat and colourless, “Turn and face the window, Lady, tonight we begin your instruction.” Cerian did asshe was bidden and she felt Herne move to stand behind her, “Close your eyesand imagine that you are standing in my home, you can see thecrimson carpet, hear the hiss of the fire, now mentallytransfer us from here to there.”

For a moment Cerianfelt a brief sense of disorientation and then she opened her eyes. They stood in Herne’s oak, she raised a handto touch the one of Herne’s on her shoulder and said, “I believe we havearrived, Lord.”

This time Herne’svoice had regained some of its warmth, “Not quite, you haven’t yet learnto cut yourself out of time. Put yourhand out.”

Cerian reached out andtouched something solid; it was as if a pane of glass separated them fromthe scene before them.

Herne squeezed her shoulderreassuringly and Cerian felt the room spin again. When it steadied they stood in exactlythe same place. “There is a knack to it,” he said, “but you have done very well. I have taught those who took months to master time and had me tearing out chunks of fur. Everyone learns.”

“But I haven’t masteredit!” Cerian protested.

“You came very close, youmust see yourself as the only real and aught else as illusory andtransient. It will be hard.”

“It has beenthat already, Cernunnos,” Ceri sighed, “You are saying that it will getharder.”

“Yes.” Herne’s eyes werepools of such deep sorrow that Cerian could not look at them, “Yourdress and shoes are waiting in the next room. Go and change and I shall tellyou of this feast day.” He held acurtain aside and Cerian entered the room and felt it drop behind her.

The dress shimmered softlyin the light, it had a round neck, and quarter-length sleeves and was shaped tomid-thigh culminating in two tiered frills that ended just above the knee. The colour was the royal blue of the ocean and it seemed composed of some light, silken material. Cerian slipped it on over herhead and knew that there was magic in it as it fitted her exactlywithout seeming to shrink or expand. She turned her attention tothe shoes, at first glance they seemed nothing morethan a pair of sandals, she slipped them on and saw that each strap wascomposed of tiny shells moulded together with mother-of-pearl.

She stood up and pushed thecurtain back, Herne was standing in front of the fire, his backtowards her. Cerian felt suddenly speechless, “I’m ready,” she finally managed to blurt out.

Herne turned towards her and a smile lit his features, “You look radiant Princess.”

Cerian was too nervous toabsorb the title Herne had conferred on her. She nodded shakily like a badly manipulated mannequin and Herne said,“There is a gift from the dryads who greeted you in Windsor Great Park.”

He brought forth a necklaceof oak leaves with an acorn as the pendant. “It was their wish that you wear it tonight.”

“It would be a privilege,” Cerian replied, her knees were alreadybeginning to shake, “would you put it on for me.”

She lifted thehair at the nape of her neck and Herne fastened the necklace forher. He took her hand and said, “Faceme.”

Ceri could not havedisobeyed him to save her life, Herne knelt before her and lookedup into her face, “Lady, tonight you come into your truerights - you are my liege lady for whom I have waited for half a century and I will jump off the edge of the world if you demand it. From this night forward I dare not sit without your express permission nor may you call meLord for you are higher than I.”

“Herne, please rise. I shall call youLord, for you deserve the courtesy of your title and mydesire is that you stand beside me, for I must be warrior andwisdom. I may be your mistress, but I shouldwelcome your support.”

“Then it is aprivilege I shall not abuse, Lady.” Herne nodded and said, “Turn around.” Cerian turned slowly and before them stood a great Abbey. Light blazed from the windows and thesounds of music and merrymaking floated out on the night air.

“May I escort you inside,Princess?” Herne offered her his arm.

“Thank you, Lord,”Cerian replied and laid her hand gently his arm for him to lead theway. The side door opened easily onsmooth hinges and Cerian looked up at Herne, “Are we expected?” she askedquickly.

“We are indeed,” Hernereplied, “Your Hallowe’en. It comes from All Hallows Even, we Ancient Ones call it The Day of TheDead. The last day of the year when the dead rise from the graves to wander the earth, it is almost midnight and the dawning of a new year, you call it All Saints’ Day. Once ayear, to celebrate the return of the Sol Invictus the Grail itself is shown to us. All who live andwork in different times try to attend this one night for this too is aplace out of Time.” He smiled tautly,“although parts of this corridor connect off into different times. Do you understand?”

Cerian shook her head,“Not really, Lord. But I hopecomprehension will dawn with time.”

“Time. Something we may not havetoo much of.” Herne repliedcryptically. Cerian stepped inside thebuilding and looked around, she stood in what appeared to be a corridor, and it was lit with the same glow that illuminated Herne’shome. He turned to her, “Would it pleaseyou to wait, Lady?” Heinquired, “I wish to introduce someone to you privately before we enter theGreat Hall in state.”

Cerian held herhand out and Herne took it gravely, “It would be a pleasure, Lord.”

Herne bowed, “Thank you.” He reached the end of the corridor and turned left disappearing from view.

Cerian looked around;she wondered what surprises were in store for her and what tests shewould have to undergo. She turned aroundin a full circle and saw the corridor behind her. Once again she was aware of thesensation of unease that had characterised her entrance into Windsor GreatPark, and yet this time there was a sensation of urgency and then she sawthe cowled figures of monks, one approached her and spoke, “Father Abbot,he is dying.”

“He will not die,” a voice,deep and rich spoke from a point near Ceri’s shoulder, “he waits. He waits for the Princess.”

“And who is she, Father?”the same cowled figure spoke again.

“She is the answer to hisprayers and his peace. He will not die, yet neither shall he continue to live, when she comes she will releasehim.” The voices grewfainter as if they were being blown away by the years between them andCeri stood alone in a small corridor.

The same sense of urgency was still present; Ceri took a step forward and remembered thelast words of the Hunter, Partsof this corridor lead off into different times. Then she took a deepbreath and walked forward. At the end of the corridor was a smallwooden door, slowly Cerian turned the ring, itopened smoothly to reveal stairs spiralling upwards. Cerian looked up into blackness andthen surveyed the area around her for something to light herway. Set into a bracket on the wall was the metal holder of an unlit torch; Cerian lifted it, surprised athow light it was. She pointed it upwardsat the glow illuminating the corridor, taking a deep breath she stared into itand said, “May I have some light - for I have a dark path to tread and I would welcome it.” There wasa brief click as if something slipped into place and then the torchflared brightly and Cerian found herself staring at a ball oflight exactly like the ones in the Oak. “Thank you,” she saidsoftly and then holding the torch before her began to walk up thestairs.

The stairway led upwards forwhat seemed a long and interminable time and soon the slight glowfrom the corridor was obscured and Cerian’s only surety was the darkness aroundher and the staircase leading upwards.

As she rounded the centralpillar she saw the faint glimmerings of light ahead and as her footstepsmounted the last few steps she realised that the light came from one ofthe cells along the corridor. The doorstood open and unsure how to proceed Ceri tiptoed forward and looked inside.

She saw a man lyingmotionless on a bed. The room wasfurnished with a chest and a worn rug. The stone walls were bare apart from a silver coloured crucifix above the head of the bed.

The man turned his headtowards Ceri and snapped, “Go away! I told the other brother, I do not wish to join the feast!”

The sight of hisface wrenched a gasp from Cerian because she saw that his eyes werefilmed over and she knew that he was blind, “What’s your name?”

“Brother Bedwyr,” the man replied grudgingly, and then morecuriously, “yours?”

“Cerian,” Ceri replied, and then feeling that she ought tosay something more added, “why don’t you wish to go to the feast, my Lord?”

The man’s harsh laugh madeher flinch and he barked, “Lord! Ha! I am no lord andwhat I was has passed like the halcyon days of summer.” He paused, “Cerian - art thou Welsh?”

“I believe so,” Ceri noddedand then felt silly because Bedwyr couldn’t see her. She noticed the flagon of wine and the gobletsitting on the chest, “Would you like a drink?”

“Thank you, Sister, itmight ease my passing.” Ceri started at the word ‘Sister’ but poured the wine. She knelt on the worn rung and slid an arm beneath Bedwyr’s shoulders;he lifted himself slightly and sipped the fragrant, slightly steaming liquid.

“No more,” he gasped and slumped back against Cerian’s arm. Tenderly she loweredhim to the bed and took his hand. She placed the goblet on the floor beneaththe bed and rising from her knees seated herself beside the prone figure.

“That wine is drugged,” Bedwyrspoke suddenly, “I am dying you see and the wine is to make that dyingless fraught.”

“It might mean a peacefuldeath,” Cerian murmured doubtfully.

“My life has been farfrom easy,” Bedwyr laughed bitterly, “I do not see why my death should beso.”

“Care to tell me about it?”

“I may as well - but youcannot absolve me, Sister, you would need to fetch a priest to do that.”

“I disagree,” Cerian saidgently, “I may not be able to absolve you but I can forgive you. Tell me your story.”

“Once, long ago, I was aKnight of the Round Table. Artus was my best friend, he chose me to escort his wife, Gwenhwyfar fromLodegraunce to the newly constructed castle at Camelot. On the journey I fell in love withher. She was beautiful, her hair was thecolour of corn in high summer and her eyes were the eyes of deer in theforest. She wore her hair plaited and hidden from view. I did my duty by my King and escorted the LadyGwenhwyfar to my King. But the love and desire I felt for her did not diminish. One night, Artus was away and my Lady calledme to her, when I entered the room her lady-in-waiting had departed and she wasalone. Her golden hair spilleddown her back in a train and when she turned to me I saw the lovein her eyes. I could restrain myself nolonger; I took her in my arms and kissed her. Thus I betrayed my king and I betrayed the trust he bestowed on me.”

“Perhaps it was fatedto happen thus?” Cerian mused, “Betrayaltakes two, Bedwyr, she may have wanted you to father a child in Arthur’s name.But even the bright and shining example of Camelot had to end. ”

“But why withme?” Bedwyr paused and then the wordsspilled from him like a dam that had been under pressure for toolong, “but I did much worse. Iheld a position of power in the court and many ladies admired me becauseI was a knight - in my arrogance I thought I could even be the one to achieve the Grail. It was my son,Galahad, by Elaine, whose destiny it was to take the Grail back toJerusalem. That was right, now, Iknow. But what grieves me most isthe wrong I did to one who was little more than a child.”

“Are you sure that youshould speak of it to me,” Cerian enquired, “I am very young, Brother,perhaps I should fetch a priest.”

“Tonight?” Bedwyr shook his head, “they wait forthe coming of the Princess. Tonight - if she passes all the tests theLady Nimüe will acknowledge her. She is probably eating and drinking in the Great Hall and I doubtthat she would have the time to listen to a fool like me.”

“I think she would.” Cerian replied firmly.

“You mean if you wereher you would. Stay with me, Sister,forgive me if you can, you listen to my most grievous sins andsomehow I feel as though a weight has been lifted from me. I think you will listen to mewithout judgment. There was another called Elaine of Astolat, who told me that she lovedme. It was before the Great Tourney thatshe gave me her token and bade me wear it for her. I decided that in order to cover myself with more glory I would enter the listsunrecognised only wearing her token. This I did and was badly wounded because of it. She sought me out and for two months nursed me back to health. AndI refused her. I told you that I wasarrogant, in my arrogance I did not see that the very day I took hertoken, that from the love in her heart I constrained myself to her. I do not think that God will ever forgive me-” he broke off and Ceri saw the shine of tears on his cheeks.“I-I did my liege great wrong even if Gwenhwyfar and I did love eachother, for even when she was condemned to death and I rescuedher she could not live with me preferring to end her days in her father’scastle.”

Cerian stared at himin a mixture of contempt and horror and then she looked at the broken man andthought What would it avail to berate him now? Has he not suffered enough all these years. He knows the wrong he has done and has been punished accordingly, does he notdeserve forgiveness? And the answer, from within her heart whispered,He deserves all that and more. If you can replace it within your heart, then forgive him.

Cerian took bothBedwyr’s hands in her own, “I forgive you Bedwyr, in the name ofQueen Gwenhwyfar and Elaine of Astolat.”

And somethinghappened. Two pale transparent figures flickered, wavered and then appeared either side of Ceri, one had long fair hair that streameddown her back while the other’s hair was raven, but falling to shoulderlevel. The first woman reached into Ceri’s hands and Ceri’s grip on Bedwyr’stightened, “Bedwyr, I pardon you, I never wanted you to die like this.”

“Elaine?” Bedwyr whispered, “Elaine!”

“Elaine.” The woman confirmed, Ceri’s lips movedbut the voice that emerged was not hers, “you heard me, Bedwyr, thedoor has been opened and I may tell you that I forgive you thewrong you did. Adieu, fair knight.” The figure waveredand then dissolved, the second reached into Ceri’s hands and Ceri’sfingers uncurled from Bedwyr’s left yet continued to hold his right in her own, the second voice was rich and deep and belonged to aQueen, “Bedwyr, forgive me, I never meant this much hurt. At first, because I thought Artus hadno seed I chose you to father a child in his name - and then I fell in lovewith you. I did not intend that for itbrought shame upon me and upon Artus. Iam truly sorry, Bedwyr.”

Bedwyr’s face lit up,“Gwennie? Gwennie, I had to choosebetween you and Artus and even when I chose you - you no longer wished mycompany and I could not go back to my King. It broke my heart.”

The figure bent forward andtransparent fingers gently brushed Bedwyr’s forehead, “I know. I cry your pardon. Fare thee well, my most beloved knight.”

Cerian felt as if shewas coming apart at the seams, part of her was speaking and theother part was the cold observer who merely watched the events happeningbefore her eyes. Slowly she released Bedwyr’s hands and the women’svoices spoke again, this time in unison, “Farewell, sweet knight.”

Cerian blinked and Bedwyr spoke sluggishly as if his tongue didn’t belong in hishead, “Sister, thank you. Yourforgiveness allowed my Lady Gwenhwyfar and the Lady Elaine to grant me pardonfor my sins.”

Cerian nodded and gentlylaid Bedwyr’s hand on the coverlet and said, “You can go to God now, SirKnight. I have an errand I must perform, I have to go and replace the MidwinterThorn.”

“But it doesn’t bloom atthis time of year,” Bedwyr’s foreheadcreased in a puzzled frown.

“I know that,” Ceri nodded,“but I have to go and search it out - have you any idea where it might be?”

“I have not seenthe Midwinter Thorn bloom here at Ynys Witrin for many years,” Bedwyrreplied, “if it ever bloomed it may have been within the land of Listinois - even if the legend says that it thrived here in Glastonbury.”

“Wait for me, Bedwyr.”Cerian instructed as she rose to her feet, “I shall return. And then youmay sleep in peace.”

The torch lit up as shegrasped it and Cerian wondered what magic she possessed and thencleared the thought from her mind and began to move down the stairs.

As she felt the darknessclose up around her she wondered why it was so important that she replace the Midwinter Thorn and discovered that she couldn’tunderstand why. It was as if she wasbecoming two separate people, one who knew exactly why she was searching forthe Midwinter Thorn and the other to whom everything that was happening was amystery.

She shook her head to clearit, and walked on, a tiny figure trying to hold the darkness back.

For the secondtime that evening Herne’s words floated through her brain, “Somecorridors lead off into different times,” and she looked up into the darkness above her and wondered if she had indeed walked into a different time.

She found the sidedoor without much difficulty and was about to slip out into the darknesswhen a voice said, “Madam, you ought not to venture into the gardensalone at this time of night.”

She turned and came face to face with a young knight, his facereminded her in some way of Bedwyr, but she couldn’t place it.

“Sir, I have much on my mindthis night and I sought comfort in mine own company. Therefore I thought that I wouldst walk inthe gardens for a spell.”

“Mayst I be permittedto accompany thee?” The knight smiled, “I am supposed to champion the Princess but she has not yet arrivedand as I have already said, it is not seemly for a ladyto walk alone this late in the evening.”

“Your company would be a pleasure, chevalier,” Ceri replied, then realising she had not introduced herself, “My name is Cerian. Yours Sir Knight?”

“Galahad,” the man replied,“at your service, Mademoiselle.” Hebowed stiffly and then offered her his arm, gingerly Ceri accepted it andtogether they walked into the cool air of the gardens.

Cerian felt as though shewas part of a dream, here she was, a nobody walking arm in arm with thefairest knight in all Camelot. She wondered what to say to him and then came to a decision, “Sir Knight,” she began slowly, he turned toface her and Cerian came very near to losing her resolve, “I should tell you the truth - I am no lady - you should return tothe Great Hall and wait for the Princess.”

Galahad regarded her quietly and then a smile touched his lips,“Madam, you have behaved like a lady, I cannot leave you alone here, there maybe those who would take advantage of your loveliness.”

“But I seek-” Cerianbegan and then stopped, ahead of them stood an ancient tree, itsgreen thorny branches stark and bare. Galahad followed her gaze and then he said, “I have heard tell that thisis the thorn tree that sprung from the Lord Jesus crown and that Joseph ofArimathea brought from Jerusalem. It only blooms in midwinter on the day of Christ’s birth. However -” his voice broke, “it has notbloomed for the past two Christmastides, perhapsthe Light has deserted us.”

“No,” Ceri said softly, “itswaiting.”

“For whom?”

Ceri didn’t answer, shestepped to the foot of the tree and took up one of the long thornsthat littered the ground beneath it, “For me.” Then without waiting for an answer she drew it across her palm and then stepped forward to clasp the trunk so that the wound was in contact with thetree. Staring up into the darkness ofthe foliage, she sent the thought upward, I have come, it has been a long time, but I have come. Tell me what I must do.

The answer was slow, likethe sap pulsing through the trunks of trees with a steady systolic beat,but the force behind it was the force that sends a shoot bursting through theearth to seek the sunlight. A Princess of Blood Royal may clasp the thorns without injury and release the last knight of Camelot. Art thousuch a one?

Ceri’s tongue feltlike lead and the assurance she had felt before was slipping away fromher like water, finally she summoned up the strength and replied, Could one not of Royal Blood touch a woundto you and live?

For a moment she thoughtthat she’d lost and then the thorny branches enclosed and held herand the world went black. Her hands were still in contact with the trunk but all around her was blackness. A branch curved around her brow like a circlet and trickles of blood where thornshad scratched her forehead contrasted starkly with her pale face.

Eventually the darkness around her lightened and the answer came, this time gentler, Hail Princess! Then you shall be given the powerto release him, God speed!

She felt the branches uncurlaway from her all except the one around her forehead, she looked up and sawpale flowers burst into existence on the branches. Finally the whole tree was covered inpale, white flowers and there was such a smell of sweetness in the air that shecould not speak. She reached upand touched the mossy bark gently, almost sorrowfully, Fare thee well,most beloved of trees.

Farewell, Princess Cerian. Yourfuture lies, as it always will, within your own hands. Then the brief contact was gone and shestepped away from the tree. At that moment a figure stumbled from theshadows and fell heavily on the thorn-littered grass, he lay groaning, withoutany thought for herself Cerian ran across to him, she knelt on apatch of clear grass and carefully examined him, the thornshad pierced his body and Ceri could see the blood pumping out of him. Galahad cushioned the man’s head and looked across at Ceri and carefully shook his head, shereached up to touch the circlet of flowers and for a moment thought of a man lying alone andunshriven in a bare tower and then made her decision, she reached up and removed the crown. “It is saidthat in the hands of a healer this can restore a man on the verge of death,”she said quietly, “perhaps it may restore this man.” Carefully she laid thechaplet upon the still figure.

She stood up, “Your helm,Chevalier.”

Galahad removed it from beneath his arm and handed it to her, Ceri walked across to the stream and knelt toscoop up some water, Galahad laid a hand on her shoulder,suddenly a voice said, “You will not need that,Daughter.”

Both turned and in place ofthe old man stood a middle-aged gentleman with a circlet of silver on his brow,and in his hands he held the chaplet of white flowers,“Princess. I am Joseph ofArimathea.” Slowly she returnedGalahad’s helm and rose to her feet, as if in a dream she stumbled towards theold man, Joseph gazed at her, “Few there are who are accorded suchhonours by this tree, yet you would give all this up to save the life of an oldman. Kneel, my Lady.”

Cerian did as she wastold for one of the few moments in her life and Joseph said, “I am very proudof you, Princess. Accept yourcrown and your power again.” Cerian felt the chaplet placed on her head and she rose to her feet andcurtsied, “My Lord.”

Joseph took her shoulderslifted her up, “Nay, Princess, do not kneel to me.” She turned around and for the first timeGalahad saw the brightness of her face and the chaplet on flowers on her headand dropped to one knee, “Forgive me Princess,” he murmured. “I should have recognised you.”

“Should you?” Cerian responded feeling more at ease withherself than she had for days, “if I cannot recognise myself - why shouldyou recognise me? Besides which - it wasnot only I who was tested this night, it was you also - this was your test tosee if you would behave with all courtesy to any woman, be she Princessor peasant. You were to test me byleading me to this tree-” she gestured to the thorn, “for only if Iwere the Princess would I know what to do.” She took Galahad’s hands in her own and raised him to his feet, he stood looking down at the slight figure and bowed his head, “Princess, I wish to serve you -as your knight.”

“Then I accept yourservice,” Cerian replied, she turned to Joseph of Arimathea and said, “Will you excuse us, my Lord, I must needs fulfil a promise.”

“Go. I think you will know what to do.”

“Yes,” Cerian responded andresisted the impulse to say, ‘Lord’, “Will you be at the feast?”

A smile curvedJoseph’s full mouth and his dark eyes sparkled, “Of course!”

“Madam,” Galahad cleared histhroat, “may I accompany you?”

Cerian turned to him and said slowly, “As far as the Abbey, yes. Beyond that I must go alone, but I thank youfor your words. Will you wait in theAbbey for me?”

“It would be an honour,”Galahad smiled.

“I would welcome yourcompany, Chevalier.” Cerian repliedslowly. As they entered the Abbey Cerianfelt the air - taut with expectancy, Ceri was about to turn off into the corridor when she heard Herne behind her, “Princess! I havebeen searching for you! There is much afoot - the greatest knight of Camelot has deigned to bepresented to you.”

Cerian stepped forwardand Herne saw the chaplet of white flowers on her brow andGalahad’s bulk loomed over her small frame, “My liege,” he murmured anddropped to one knee.

“Rise, my Lord,” Ceriansaid, “and escort me to the Hall.”

“At once, Madam.” Herne said quickly. He rose to his feet and Cerian turned to Galahad, “if you would stand at my left side and guard my heart,Chevalier.”

“Madam.” Galahad inclined his head and Herneoffered her his right arm.

“Shall we go in,gentlemen?” Cerian enquired softly.

“As you wish,” Hernereplied, “it is just after midnight.”

The hall was filledwith people. She heard a herald’s voiceannounce her name and the music stopped as suddenly as if cut with a knife. They began to walk, side by side, towards a dais at the one end of the Abbey. Suddenly Ceriannoticed that the people were dropping to one knee and bowing their heads. They’re showing fealty to me, I’m not ready-I’m, herthought rose high and shrill, and then she heard another voice within hermind.

Peace, Princess! The chaplet you wear and the very fact that you have been twice tested give you the right. Do not fear.

Her mind probed thesender and a small smile curved herlips, Lord Herne!

The same. Be still! This is only the beginning, you maynot allow your fear to show. Too muchdepends on you.

Cerian wanted to askwhat but they had reached the foot of the dais and Herne halted and theyboth turned to face the assembly. A woman detached herself from the throng andapproached the throne, “Princess,” she began dropping to one knee, “I amNimüe-”

Suddenly from beyond thehall came the sound of trumpets, the woman turned and a herald entered,“Make way!” he was calling, “Make way for the last knight of Camelot!”

A bed wascarried in and Cerian’s face blanched as she recognisedBedwyr. Herne leant across and said,“Madam, this is where times mingle, I know not what you did while we wereapart but you may live to regret it.”

The figures standing in the hall seemed to become misty and transparent, Cerian turned to Galahad at her side only todiscover that he was no longer there and that the entire Abbey hadchanged, she now stood in front of an altar. The heralds had become monks and the rich bed a shabby pallet covered with blankets.

For a split secondCerian felt a moment of panic and then she reached up to touch herhead and felt the chaplet of flowers, her hands also touchedtwo tiny cuts made by the thorns.

“Bedwyr,” she said softly, kneeling beside the pallet, “BrotherBedwyr?”

“The little sister I spokewith earlier?” Bedwyr’s face lit up, “greetings sister, I fear that death hasovertaken me at the last.”

“Oh Bedwyr!” Cerian reached out and her fingers gentlybrushed his eyelids. Bedwyr blinked up at her and then the filmcovering his eyes seemed to drain away and his eyes were clear.

For a long moment they stared at one another and then Bedwyrwhispered, “You restored my sight!” Then cognizance dawned and he whispered, “You are the Princess? Did you escape? Iwould not have seen thee hurt but I had to save the Queen-”

Ceri nodded, “It wouldappear so.” She frowned in puzzlement, “Bedwyr, I was never-” and then shestopped because somehow she knew that Bedwyr had seen her before and inCamelot. She swallowed and feigning a confidence she did not feel she replied,“I escaped, Sir Knight. You were right, your duty was to the Queen first.”

“I am sorry for what Isaid earlier-” Bedwyr began, but Ceri’s finger on his lips silenced him.

“Sssh. I returned to grant you peace. You have done your penance.” Cerian smiledand as she did so another figure appeared on the other side of the pallet. He was fair-haired and his eyes were the faded blue of cornflowers, he dropped to his knees and took Bedwyr’s other hand.

“Greetings, most worthyknight,” he said slowly.

Bedwyr turned his head slowly and stared up into the face of the stranger,“My liege!” he gasped. “I-I shouldrise.”

“My knight, I havewaited many years for one of Royal Blood to come and relieve yourcurse. I have come to take you home -there will be a short sleep first - will you come?”

“No more grief, or guilt?”

“No, Bedwyr. Your sleep will be deep and dreamless, that Ipromise you.”

“Then I shall come with allmy heart, lord. Can you forgive me?”

“You were my truestknight and most loyal companion. Iforgave you long ago, you needed to forgive yourself. This child has enabled you to do that.”

“Lord,” Cerian said suddenly,“may I?”

The man turned and a smilelit his features as he regarded Cerian, “It is your right and privilege,Lady.” Something twinkled in the cornflower blue eyes and he said, “It is goodto see you again, cousin.”

He knows me too! Ceri thought, but I haveno memory of our meeting. What should I say, what should I do?

Slowly Cerian reached up to the chaplet of flowers and as she touched them the sweetestsmell filled the entire hall, she removed the circlet and asshe did so it disintegrated in her hands and a cloud of petals,like snowflakes fell onto the pallet. That moment seemed to go on forever,Cerian watched as Bedwyr stared up into the older man’s face and then theman gripped Bedwyr’s wrist as a man clasps one who isbound closer than friend or brother. His eyes suddenly seemed tofill with light. A smile touched hislips and as the petals touched the ground therewas nothing there. Only an old pallet with a monk’s habit and inside the habit a hair shirt.

Cerian reached up a hand toher face and found it wet with tears. She stood up and stepped back and felt a firm hand take her elbow,“That was well done, my Princess.”

The bed was being carried from the hall and the woman presented herself again,“Madam,” she began again.

This time Cerian walkedforward and raised the woman to her feet, “Do not kneel to me,” she saidsoftly, “I am no Princess.”

“I have a giftfor you,” the woman said, she turned to one of her ladies in waiting who held a cedarwood box, “when the sword of power,Caliburn, was forged long ago, not all the metal could be used. Therefore, the remainder was usedto forge a crown that would be worn by the last of the Ancient Onesand set with an alexandrine, this is the final test. Lady will you take it?”

There was an indrawn gasp of breath as Cerian nodded and knelt before thewoman. “Lady Nimüe, it would be asingular honour if you would crown me.”

A smile touched thecorners of Nimüe’s lips and she replied, “Thank you, Princess.”

Slowly and with dignity thethin crown was lowered onto Cerian’s head. The circlet suddenly blazed with a white light, and Cerian suddenly saw the whole assembly drop to their knees while she could only stand andstare.

Then the doors at theend of the Hall flew open and a cup appeared, Cerian suddenly felther mouth go dry for this she knew with a startling clarity was the San Graal, the Holy Grail of legend. She stared at the vision andthe golden bowl began to move towards her, it hung before her like a globe, and a voice boomed, “Those who have a measure of Royal bloodmay hold the San Graal for a moment. Wilt thou hold it and undertake the quest for which you were chosen? ”

Cerian cleared herthroat, “I will.” She reached out her hands and the bowl settled into them likea bird returning to its nest, “Does thy blood make thee worthy to hold theGrail?” the voice asked coldly.

“I would say not,” Cerireplied thoughtfully, “my actions make me worthy to hold the Grail. I hold itnow to swear that I will undertake the quest to free the Hunter and to do thebest I can. Is that sufficient?”

Ceri looked up and saw thefigure of Joseph of Arimathea standing before her, “Then thou who wast royalonly by birth art now truly Royal and the blood of Kings flows in thy veins.Give me the cup.” Ceri handed him the Holy Chalice and Joseph smiled at herbefore letting it go.

The Grail swept thelength of the Hall before disappearing from view through the huge double doors, Nimüe rose gracefully and gazed at Ceri, “You have come at last.” She said slowly, and then she knelt suddenly baringher head, “Hail, Princess!”

Cerian licked her very dry lips and staring at the hall of people swallowed hard.