Daughter Of The Morning
The Moment Of Truth

As Ceri gazed at thesurrounding forest, Cernunnos took one last look at the Princess he served andslowly disappeared. A few minutes later, he stepped out of the shadowssurrounding his room carrying a small object covered by a black cloth. This helaid on one of the side tables and then sat down himself. He removed the clothand carefully lifted the glass orb; gently he cradled it in his palms andstared hard into its depths. Gradually the image of a young girl appeared,Cernunnos stared at the blonde hair and blue eyes and thought about this childhe had lifted from her own world and her own time. She was running through the forest and asHerne caught sight of her pale, frightened face and flying hair he realised shewas in danger. Slowly he replaced the sphere and replaced the cloth. Then hestood up and was about to leave the room when a new voice said, “ So, she is special to you,”

Herne looked up and into theface of Mithras, “Yes, she is special. But she is more than that.”

“You think this one can saveyou?” He asked.

“I begin to hope so. Icannot stop my friend, I need to contact an old disciple of mine.”

“She’s in danger – from theDark?” Mithras’s hand went to the hilt of his sword.

“No. Not the Dark, a groupof brigands that haunt the outskirts of Sherwood; but if they kill her she willbe just as dead – whether in this time or in the twelfth century.”

“Then you must go,” Mithrasreplied, “I shall wait.”

“Please.” Cernunnos gesturedto one of the chairs and Mithras lowered himself into it. He set his helmetwith its white transverse crest on the table beside it and turned to Cernunnos.“Go my friend.”

Herne nodded and walked intothe shadows, for a moment there was a flicker and then he was gone. Mithraslooked around the room and then up at the lamp illuminating the room, “He trulybelieves that she is the one who will release him.” He murmured softly tohimself.

“He has reason,” anothervoice said, “though he knows it not as yet.”

Mithras turned and saw thefigure of his Lord, the Invincible Sun standing behind him, instantly he waskneeling at the feet of his saviour.

“Greetings, most beloved of my disciples,” thevoice said softly, “you have some questions I think.”

Mithras stood up, “Yes Lord.Why should she be the one? The others were as she is, no more, no less, theyhad royal lineage and royal bearing. Shemay have the lineage but she was never brought up as one of them, she has nounderstanding of what it is to be royal.”

“My son, even I do not know if she is the one whowill save the Hunter,” the being said softly, “that is not given to me to know,nor to thee even if we wished it. And even in the books where this is writtenit is only one half of the story, if she is to save the Hunter, we will knowsoon enough, if she does not then Morgana and her sisters will triumph.”

“I cannot allow that!”Mithras stormed.

“Do you suppose I wish toallow it, my son,” it sighed and responded, “you know as well as I do that weagreed not to try and discover who was the true Keeper.”

“No, you agreed for me,” Mithras replied and for thefirst time the anger he had held in check was visible on his face. “You forgetthat I loved one of those so called pretenders, and when Morgana destroyed herit almost broke my heart. And you refused my petition to search through Timefor her – you want me to assist this child without even knowing if she isworthy of the honour we give her.”

Suddenly the Sol Invictusgrabbed him, Mithras gasped in pain but the creature held him even tighter, “Doyou suppose I wanted those others to be lost?” he snarled, his face inches fromMithras’s, “I cared as much for them as I do for this one, more, for one ofthem was my true daughter as thou art my true son – but she knew the risks andshe knew that I could not look for her. Do you forget the battle we fight?”

Mithras pulled himself freeand snapped, “I no longer choose to fight this battle. It has been raging sincethe beginning of time. Let Humankind handle it, it is their battle, not ours.”

“It will be soon enough,”the Sol Invictus replied. “For the moment it is ours. You knew the choice wemade – hast thou forgotten thy humanity?”

Mithras refused to answerand the god spoke again, “Then I cannot convince thee, Mithras. Very well. If Iask you to come to Glastonbury will you come?”

Mithras turned and his eyeswere full of tears, “I follow you anywhere,” he replied thickly, “but I followyou because I pledged myself to you – not for some foolish battle for which Ino longer see any future.”

For the first time the godsmiled, “Then when I summon thee to Ynys Witrin, come.”

Mithras nodded and knelt atthe feet of his god, “Yes, my Lord.”

“If she asked for help forone of your own would you assist her?”

“For one of my disciples,yes!” Mithras retorted, raising his head to look into his deity’s face, “it isher I do not believe in.”

The Sol Invictus laid a handon his apostle’s head, “Then go in peace my son. Remember, when I call thee toYnys Witrin, thou art bound to come.”

“I shall remember,” Mithrasresponded and slowly disappeared. The god was still standing in the same placewhen Herne returned.

“I thought Mithras would behere,” he said smiling into the face of the divinity.

“He and I have spoken.”

“About the Princess.”

“And of other things. Hestill blames me for Myfanwy’s loss.”

“No.” Cernunnos walkedacross the room to stand in front of the roaring fire, “he blames himself forseeing qualities in her that were not there. Myfanwy was a jewel, but she hadonly passion, she had no strength to carry her through. I think Mithras thoughtthat with his support she could gain those qualities. He forgot that she had tofight the battle alone and without him by her side.”

The Sol Invictus shook hishead, “For a being who was once himself a deity you have a rare insight intohumanity. Perhaps that is why you were cursed.”

“It is the consequences ofthe curse that make me despair,” Herne said softly, “the death and grief that Iand the Yell Hounds cause and have caused every century.”

The god gently laid a handon Herne’s shoulder, “Perhaps this girl may indeed save you.”

“I believe she will, Lord.”Cernunnos replied.

“She certainly appears tohave something the others did not, are you so afraid of Morgana?”

“I am not afraid of her.” Herne replied with a light laugh,“but I am afraid of what she and her sisters may do to the Princess.”

“You think she is?”

“I know her history,” Hernereplied spreading his hands as if that was all the proof he needed. “However,you are correct, Lord, she has not been tested and she is still a child. Shemay break.” He sighed and his eyes became far away.

“It is unfortunate thatMithras does not share your belief.”

“He may. There is alwaystime.”

“For us, yes. For you,perhaps. Regrettably not for her. If she is this saviour then time is againsther. We can wait for an infinite number of candidates to save you, if you areto be saved.”

“Sounds ominous,” Cernunnosreplied, seating himself in the Queen Anne chair and inviting the deity to dothe same.

“She must know the truthsoon,” the Invincible Sun said, “It was not your fault about the others.Morgana and her sister Morgaine seduced them and once seduced it was easy tolure them into the abyss. You have not told her of her Father?”

“No.”

“Or of the real reason forher power?”

Herne looked up at him, “Doyou mean-”

“Yes. Have you told her thatit is her blood that gives her the power she commands. It has nothing to dowith her courage, or her stamina or her belief.”

“I have not. I have not beenable to replace the words to tell her. She was shocked when I explained about thesacrifices to me, how could I tell her that the real reason she restoredBedwyr’s sight was because of what flows in her veins?”

“She may be moreunderstanding than you would think.”

“How will she feel when shediscovers that I have misled her.”

“Concerning what?”

“Morgana.”

“Ah. You have not explainedyour involvement with her.”

“How could I? Morgana is theenemy, what would she think if I told her that she was once my spouse?”

“How would she feel if youdidn’t tell her?” the being enquired, “and more importantly, my friend, if theDark discover this, they will use it against her. They could turn what we usefor good to evil ends.”

“I know.” Herne sighed, “shewill be returning to the Abbey soon and I must speak with her. I shall begin bytelling her that her father was a King.”

“You’d best tell her that hewas The High King,” the Invincible Sun said, “and one initiated into myTemple.”

“I shall do that, myfriend.” Herne smiled, “Did you want something else?”

“I thought that if Mithrastalked with her, it might convince him that she is worth his support.”

“He is not that easilyconvinced,” Cernunnos replied dryly.

“It is worth a try.”

“Very well, Lord.” Hernenodded and together both men walked out of the room.

Meanwhile Cerian flew up thestairs as if there were wings on her heels, she opened the door tentatively.Galahad was sitting up in bed being fed by a young serving maid.

“Enough,” he said wearily, and then he saw Cerian standing quietly besidethe door, “Princess!” he gasped.

The maid turned andbowl and spoon clattered to the floor as the girl dropped to her knees ina gesture of submission, “Lady, bless you!”

Cerian said nothingand the girl gathered together the implements and scurried from the roomher eyes never meeting Ceri’s. Suddenly Ceri began to feel slightlyridiculous, slowly she walked across the room and sat down on thebed.

Suddenly Galahad leantforward and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her to him ina fierce hug. “My little Princess!” he murmured and there was such a wealth of affection and pride in his tone that Cerian blushed. She slipped her arms around him and laid herhead on his shoulder.

“I was so worried aboutyou,” she whispered softly.

Galahad released her andleant back against the cushions, “I’m fine,” he smiled, “but Cernunnosinsists that I be spoon fed for the next three days. I’m not an invalid!”

“No, Sir Knight, but I did have my reasons,” Cerian turned at the sound of Herne’s voice and then sighed, “I wish you’d stop thatcorporeal shifting,” she complained, “I never know who you’re going to looklike next!”

A smile touched Herne’s lips, “I forgot, Princess.” Cernunnos hadchanged from an old man to one who bore himself like a general; theeyes were unchanged but his hair was black and luxurious, and his steel breastplate shone, inthe centre was an embossed image of a horse. “When believers pray to agod they cast him in a certain image - why do you think there wereillustrations of me, because my believers cast me in a certainshape, because of the curse my image has remained much the same. But thisimage was given me by a devout believer and I enjoy wearing it for it reminds me of her.”

Suddenly Cerian feltGalahad go limp against her arms, she gasped and then Herne was besideher easing him down on the bed and pulling the sheet up around him, “Did you dothis?” she demanded turning to him.

“No,” Herne’s voicewas tender and very low, “I was about to explain that the reasonGalahad may not get up is that he is still recovering. He faced oneof the Great Ones of the Dark and very nearly died.”

Will he recover?”

“Yes,” Herne smiled, “in three or four days. You and I must speak, Madam.”

“Yes, we must,”Ceri replied, “but not tonight. Tonight I tend this man, we willspeak in the morning.”

Behind her Herne opened his mouth to say something then bowed formally andleft the room. Ceri gently turned Galahad so that he lay on his side andwith a damp cloth wiped his face. He slept on oblivious, Ceri stayed with him throughout the night. Once he seemed to be in the throes of a nightmare, she gently stroked his forehead and hisshuddering ceased and his breathing became less laboured.

The serving girl who hadbeen feeding him when Cerian entered brought a flagon of honeysweetened wine before she went off duty. Ceri hardly noticed herfor she moved silently just like a ghost.

As the door closed aquiet voice whispered, “She’s quite a sweet little thing,” Galahad smiledup at her, “she’s been good with me.”

Ceri gently stroked adamp curl of hair back from his temple and said, “Thirsty?”

Galahad nodded, “A little.”

“Let me help you situp slightly,” Ceri responded, carefully she eased Galahad to a sittingposition and held the goblet to his lips. He drank slowly and slumpedback again.

“Rest,” Ceri advised, “if Lord Cernunnos says you will be fit in three days, youwill be.”

Galahad took herhand, “My delightful Princess,” he murmured, and yawned. Ceriwatched as his eyes closed and when she was sure he wasasleep she bent and kissed his forehead.

Dawn gilded the horizonorange when Herne entered for the second time, “Madam,” he began, “I regret theintrusion but we must speak - it may wait no longer.”

“Yes, Lord.” Cerian replied,“lead the way.”

Cernunnos opened the doorand led her up another flight of stairs to the room directly aboveGalahad’s, this one sparsely furnished with a threadbare carpet and two oakchairs. There was a bright fire burning in the grate and the roomwas pleasantly warm. Ceri looked around her, “Who did this roombelong to, Lord?”

“It is a meeting room,Princess, this room is directly above Galahad’s. In fact the whole toweris isolated from the rest of the Abbey so it wasconsidered an admirable place for parleys to take place. Enemies could sit on neutral ground without fear that they would be attacked because of thesingle staircase. What is now Galahad’s room would house the contingent of bodyguards.”

“Sit, Lord,” Cerian saidsuddenly, “I am forgetting my manners. Now I should like anexplanation, beginning with why you left me alone in Sherwood.”

Herne looked sheepish,“This is another of the things I thought it best you should not knowabout, I needed you to meet, Robin i’the Hood because through him you wouldmeet a former incarnation of me.”

Ceri stared at him andsaid, “If you get me too angry Lord, there is a possibility that I coulddo you some harm.”

“I am aware ofthat,” Herne replied, “but I will not lie to you Princess. That is the way ofthe Dark and we dare not even bend the truth slightly in order not to hurtsomeone for if we do then the Dark will have already won.”

“It does not make me anyhappier” Ceri sighed, “The Light is a harsh master, it is like the blazingsword of the Law, or the burning sun, and it doesn’t care much for individuals.But speak, my Lord.”

“My dear Princess-” Hernebegan.

Ceri’s eyes blazed, “Forgetthe ‘dear’, you afford me the title Princess so I presume that at leastone of my parents was Royal.”

“Both your parents,” Herne confirmed, “but your father held the distinction of being first True High King of all Britain, heunited the tribes together under one King. Vortigern killed his fatherwhen he was ten and he and his brother fled to King Budec ofBrittany.” Herne paused and then continued, “when he was sixteen, King Gorlan of Lanascoltook him as his Lieutenant and bade him go to North Wales to bringhis new bride home. Her name was Cerian Asfrid, she was thedaughter of the King of Segontium, Caer’na-fon.”

Ceri frowned and then said,“Caernarvon?”

Herne scowled, “Your Welshis atrocious. Your father’s job was to escort her to King Gorlan. He fell in love with her and she with him, theyconsummated their love aboard the boat. He even asked her to come away with him. She refused and he had to take the place of her father and give her to King Gorlan.”

“I’d already been conceived,hadn’t I?” Ceri whispered miserably.

“Your mother was a Priestess in the cult of Epona, she came to the shrine inthe forest and made sacrifices not knowing it was to me. Therefore it wasto me she came when she discovered her pregnancy and told me that thefather could not be Gorlan because the night they were to have consummated their marriage a message had come saying that one of the outlying tribes was in revolt and hehad gone to quell it. He had hugged her to him and said that there would be another feast when he returned triumphant and that she would bear him many sons. Then he hadgone.”

“What did you do?”

“Reached in her mind and sawhow she perceived her deity and appeared to her. I told her to pretendthat it was Gorlan’s child and to return to the grove every month so thatshe might not forget her religious duties.” Herne stopped and then beganspeaking more slowly as if he was remembering, “she went into labour a monthbefore she was due, I always said her hips were too narrow, she begged me tosave your life. I transported her to the twentieth century in the hope that itsdoctors could save her. They could not, she died a little while after givingbirth to you. She did not show her pregnancy so nobody knew thatshe was going to have a child. However both Gorlan and your naturalfather grieved over her death.”

“Lord, what do you wish meto do?”

“There is someone that Iwish you to meet,” Herne said, “he was a good friend who brought me from theVoid to the Light. I wondered if you would speak with him.”

“I will try,” Ceri saidreluctantly.

“I must leave you,” Herneexplained, “My god felt that if you two met alone it might be easier toconvince him.”

“I said that I’d try,” Cerireplied, “that doesn’t mean that I’ll succeed.”

“I think that you have morechance of succeeding than I do.” Herne scowled, “Neither my god nor I canconvince him that you may be the one for whom we have waited.”

“But if he doesn’t believe-”Ceri said and then stopped. “That’s it isn’t it? Belief.”

Herne sat down again andlooking in her eyes saw comprehension in their depths. He smiled sadly, “That’spart of it. Not just that he believes in you, but that you believe in you.”

“And the other part?” Cerieyed him warily.

“It is the blood in yourveins that gives you your power.” Herne swallowed hard, “remember that I toldyou about the power that runs through blood. That it is the Lifeforce.”

“So, it is my blood thatmakes me who I am.” Ceri eyed him thoughtfully. “But I still don’t feelchosen.”

“Who does, My Lady?” Hernesighed, “Mortals seem to think that I actually enjoy riding the sky with theYell Hounds.”

“But when you ride againstthe Dark there must be a certain satisfaction in it.” Ceri replied, the hint ofa smile playing around her lips.

“Well….yes.” Herne repliedreluctantly, “but sometimes the creatures that the Dark employs are too stupidto stay within shelter.”

“Then its not reallyrevenge,” Ceri nodded, “send your-“ she stopped as her brain fought for theword, she considered using colleague,but a part of her felt that the Hunter wouldn’t understand or would pretend notto understand, “Send him in Lord Cernunnos. I promise nothing, but I shallspeak with him.”

Herne bowed as a courtiermight to a queen and for the first time she realised that she was no longerbeing treated like a piece of baggage to be carried from place to place. Sheleant back in the chair and felt the first tendrils of fear curl around hergut. The door opened again and another man entered, “Madam, the Lord Mithras.”

“Please, come in my lord.”Ceri responded, her mouth felt suddenly dry. Where’s a glass of water when you need one? She thought grimly.Outwardly she smiled and gestured with her right hand, “Be seated, Lord. LordCernunnos has told me that you wished to speak with me. Would it be imprudentto enquire why?”

The man stood before her anddid not smile in return. “I did not request this audience.” He stated bluntly.

“I know that,” Ceri repliedgently, “I think that the Hunter thought that we might talk and see if we couldreplace agreement somewhere.”

“Unlikely.” Mithras lookedaround the room and then appeared to make a decision. “May I speak plainly.”

“Please.” Ceri replied, “anddo sit down. You make me dreadfully nervous standing there.”

Mithras sat gingerly in thechair opposite and for a long moment there was silence between them, then hespoke, “I do not believe that you are the chosen.” He said finally. “You havenot done enough, you have not led armies into battle, you have no skill infighting and you’re never rallied an army in your life. How could you be theone who will free Arthur’s Realm.” Silence greeted his words and he looked upto see Ceri smiling at him.

“My Lord, even I do not knowif I am the chosen one. The Hunter speaks in riddles even to me. My blood maybe the proof of my lineage, but without experience or knowledge, lineage isnothing. I do not ask people to follow me,” Mithras looked up his eyes alightwith hope, “yet,” his head fell again and Ceri smiled, “but I do ask them tolook at what I do, not what I say. There lies your proof.”

“Brave words,” Mithrasreplied, “but what deeds have you done that would prove that you are who Hernesays you are.”

“What deeds would?” Ceri’seyes flashed blue fire and looking into them, Mithras saw a core harder thandiamond and saw a hint of the fire he’d only ever seen in two other men. “Idoubt you would believe even if you could witness the proof.”

“If I witnessed your power,I would know whence that power came, and I would believe.” Mithras repliedsoftly.

“Be careful what you say,”Ceri smiled sadly, “you may witness it and wish that you had not said thosewords.”

Mithras stood up, “I take myleave of you, Madam. I will not address you as Princess, in my eyes you do nothave the knowledge or the lineage to be either.” He turned and walked from theroom. Minutes later Herne entered, Ceri smiled up at him, “Where did you meetthat friend of yours?”

“Mithras has been to seeyou.” Herne sighed, “and left still unconvinced.”

“He talked about deeds, LordCernunnos.” She paused, “What must I do that he would support me?”

“Vanquish the Dark on itsown territory,” Herne mused, “I do not know, Princess. His anger is notdirected at you, rather it is me he is angry with. A woman he loved was onceone of the Chosen. She had grace, honour, lineage and power, but she fell andMithras has blamed me ever since.”

“Why did she fall, Lord?”

“I do not know,” Hernereplied, “in truth, I do not know. She was like you in all ways. She had thelineage, the bloodline, she certainly had power. But you begin to realise thatyou must walk this road alone, as all who are of the Ancient Ones walk alone.”

“She didn’t?”

“She had passion, but littlestrength. And-” he paused and then continued slowly as if every word was beingwinched from the depths of his being, “She did not have courage. It takescourage to be what you are, what we are. She did not have that, but I have nottold Mithras.”

“Then perhaps you ought.”Ceri frowned, “fighting among ourselves will only achieve the Dark’s purpose.We must be able to trust one another – if we cannot then the Dark will havealready won.”

“Sometimes I feel theyhave.” Herne turned to leave the room.

“Not yet. But is that whyyou didn’t tell me about Morgana, Arawn?” Herne froze, and the slowly turnedback to face her and she saw that his face was white as chalk.

“When did you know?”

“I-I don’t know,” Cerireplied slowly, “I just seem to have made the connection. Cernunnos was yourtitle among the Celts when you were Lord of the Underworld, Herne the Hunter iswho you were when you began to haunt Windsor Great Park, but you wore horns asArawn Pen Annufn, Arawn, Lord of the Underworld. Was Morgana your Queen?”

“I don’t know,” Herne shookhis head, “Truly I do not know. It seems as though she wanted to rule in herown right and instead of taking her own realm, chose mine.”

“Why did you leave her?”

“I met the Sol Invictus onemorning and he offered me a chance for peace,” Herne smiled at the memory,“your people do not regard death as a part of life, Princess. They see it assomething to be feared and something to be avoided for as long as possible.Besides-“ he paused and reseated himself opposite Ceri, “there were thingsabout my own rule that were beginning to disturb me.”

“Concerning Morgana?”

“Concerning Morgana.” Heconfirmed. “it is difficult to explain, my Lady. Even now with clear sight,I cannot see clearly when I think ofher.”

“Perhaps you werebespelled,” Ceri mused.

“I was certainly enchanted,”Herne responded, he sighed and then looked up at his liege lady. “I wasdreading having to tell you about Morgana. I thought that you would refuse tohelp me.”

“Is there reason why Ishould?” Ceri enquired.

“Perhaps.” Herne paused andthen get to his feet, “May I get a drink, Highness?”

“Of course,” Ceri replied.She leant back in the chair and thought, That’sall I need. First I have a meeting which doesn’t go terribly well, Lord Mithrashates me. Now I get to replace out that Cernunnos is playing both sides off againstone another, just to make life even more interesting.

Herne reseated himself andtook a sip from the wooden goblet he held. “Forgive me, Princess. I did nottell you because I was afraid that if I did, you would refuse to assist me inthis battle.”

“You felt that you hadcause,” Ceri responded. “Something has happened hasn’t it?”

“She appeared to me andoffered me my throne if I would renounce this ‘foolish quest’.” Herne smiledgently.

“Do you believe it’sfoolish?” Ceri asked quickly. She leant forward and brushed a tendril of fairhair away from her face, her eyes bright with passion.

“I do not know. All thesecenturies I have waited for the woman who would free me and now when she sitsbefore me I do not know what to say to her."

A slow flush, like the edgeof a wave began to creep up Ceri’s face as she realised Herne meant herself,she opened her mouth and said slowly, “I do not know where this Quest is takingme, sometimes I feel that whatever I discover, it will not help you.”

“Perhaps not.” Cernunnossmiled, “but perhaps it is intended to help you.”

“I did not think of that,Lord.” Ceri replied sheepishly. “Will you tell Lord Mithras what you have toldme?”

“I cannot,” Herne respondedshaking his head, “we have fought over Myfanwy many times and more since yourarrival.”

“Myfanwy. My rare one,” shemused. “Shall I tell him?”

“No.” Herne smiled again,“this is my problem, Lady. His too of course, but we will solve it together.”

“The question, my LordCernunnos is will he support me in the battle I must fight.”

“He said that he wouldassist you if one of his own were injured, beyond that I do not think he willgo.”

“So I cannot count on hissupport for me.” Ceri looked thoughtful. “Thank you, Cernunnos. Somehow I mustchange his mind - and I do not knowwhere to begin.”

“Perhaps it is not yourproblem.” Herne stood up and crossed the distance between them to lay acomforting hand on Ceri’s shoulder, “you have not the time or the energy toworry about everyone, Princess. You must remain true to the goal of this questand you must remain strong.”

“What do I do now?” Cerilooked up at the creature towering over her and in spite of everything that hadhappened suddenly felt very young and very afraid.

“Go home, and then wewill decide where you will go next and who we must see toaccomplish our goal.”

“I’d like tomeet my father,” Ceri said softly, as Herne ushered her down thestairs, “I mean it would be nice to know who he was.”

“Can you wait for a little?”Herne enquired, “and I shall tell you who he was with pleasure, but Iwould rather do so when you have rested and are ready for our next forayinto time.”

The fields were stillcovered in a ghostlike mist, which the dark crimson rays of the sun hadnot yet managed to pierce. Herne touched the front door of her house and itswung back silently on its hinges.

“Is this farewell,” Ceriasked quietly.

“For a few days.Three at most. Rest my dear Princess. Continue to walk your dog, I shallreplace you when I need you.”

Cerian pushed open the door and turned around to see Cernunnosstriding across the mist as though it were solid ground. She continued to regard his progress until the swirling clouds hid him from view.

The next morning sheawoke quite late. She was brushing her hair in the mirror andwondering how she would broach the subject with her adoptive parents when the mirror became hazy and she saw Herne standing behind her,she turned to greet him but there was no-one there. She turned back to the mirror and Herne said softly, “Think you that it will be so easy to renounce your ties with them? They are not your parents by blood but they are your parents nevertheless. They loved you, nurtured you andcared for you, more than that they allowed you your freedom to be who youare. Much of the love you bear must be towards them.”

“But what of my realfather?”

“Who is your realfather?” Herne asked, “The man who found you and took you into hishome and hearth and under whose protection you grew, or the man who tookyour mother in a wild moment of passion and had he even known ofyour existence could not have acknowledged you as his daughter. You placetoo much store by blood, blood has its merits and there may be a day when you must choose between those of your blood and those whom youlove. If you are lucky they will be one and the same but most of us of the Light have had a hard choice to make - I cannotthink yours will be any easier.”

Ceri smiled, “Ihadn’t thought of it like that, Lord. My parents are those who have loved me all these years. But what of my real father, I thought that you wanted him to acknowledge me?”

Herne nodded, “I do.Your father was the first True High King of all Britain, youare his daughter and the last of the Light. You have a latent legacy thatis now becoming apparent.”

“So what do I do?” Ceridemanded.

“For the moment,” Hernesighed, “nothing. However, your final task lies ahead of you and this will bethe one that decides your fate.”

“Do you always talk in riddleswhen you’re not sure?”

Herne laughed suddenly anddespite her frustration Ceri could not help but smile, he spokeagain. “Very well. You must face your father - not as his daughter but as one of the Light. This is where you must prove your heritage and your ancestry - if you do itproperly you will be obeyed as your father was obeyed.”

Ceri stared at the mirrorperplexed, “Why?”

“Because only one who hadRoyal blood in her veins would face the forces of the Dark and triumph.”Herne stopped suddenly and then sighed, “I have said it. Lady, you saidyou wished to meet your father.”

“Lord-” Ceri’s voice died inher throat and she swallowed hard, “Meeting my father face to face is onething but to face the Dark again - I couldn’t. Those creatures terrified me.”

“You had everyreason to be terrified,” Herne said, “but the moment that you werecrowned in the Great Hall at Glastonbury it sent shockwaves throughout the Dark. That’s why they sent three of their minions the samenight.” Herne’s form wavered and he said, “I have to leave you. In your timeLady, the Dark have no knowledge of who you are. For the moment that is oursalvation, but be warned, the moment you come face to face with your father it will send the knowledge spreading from you like ripplesin a pond and all times will know who you are.”

“One might thinkthat it would be better that I did not know,” Ceri suggestedtentatively.

“You must - not because of who you are, but because you must do something for your father - if there were any other way I would have taken it longago, but I believe that only you may accomplish this particular task.”

“You won’t help me?” Ceri’svoice quavered on the last two words.

“I didn’t saythat,” Herne’s voice was surprisingly soft, “I told you, you are my liege lady, I mean only that you will discover your true gifts when we journey to this time and the decisions will be yours. Youhold your destiny in your own hands. Farewell, My Lady.” The mirrorwent blank and then Ceri was staring only at her own reflection.

I forgot to ask, she thought suddenly, I don’t know when I will be going - or how!

The next few days dragged -on the fourth day the weather was mild so Ceri took a cushion and sat on thefront step, This is like the end of termshe thought, only its worse - I know that he needs me but I don’t know when or how. Ah hell!She sighed miserably and Rufus came and shoved his nose beneath her hand. Ceri sighed again and rubbed the dog’s silky ears, “You don’t really care who or what I am as long as someone fusses you.” Rufus whinedand pawed her leg as her hand stopped moving.

Suddenly the skydarkened, Ceri shivered and looked heavenwards to see the cloudsthickening until the light of the sun could barely be seen, flashes oflightning illuminated the clouds and from a distance she could hear therumble of thunder, “What in-” she began but Rufus whined pitifully and as a lightning flash illuminated the skyline she saw it, a figuregarbed in black and carrying a crossbow.

“You are the Princess?” the tone was almostdisbelieving, “you are but a child.”

Cerian felt therain on her body and she said quietly, “Your masters sent you to kill a child?” By all rights, she should nothave been heard above the sound of the rain but the creature took a stepback and then laughed.

“Aye, my Masters were right. You are worthy to be called your father’sdaughter - this will be a great triumph for the Dark.”

“You knew my father?”

“You do not?This will be even better!” He threw his head back and Ceri saw that the rain was falling around it as if even water was afraid to touchthis creature.

“Who was my father?” Shedemanded.

“Your father was theDuke of the Red Dragon, Count Ambrosius, why else do youthink you are a Princess? Your mother was just a King’sdaughter, she would have been sold to the highest bidder. Princess, Hah! You’re no more a Princess than I am a knight!”

“That’s not true!” Cericried and she couldn’t tell whether the water on her cheeks was becauseof the rain or her tears.

“Oh but it is.” The beingraised the crossbow it carried and fired, she screamed a name, “Galahad!” and suddenly the landscape around her began to melt, afterwards she saidthat it was like running through an oil painting that had had turpentinesplashed onto it and all the colours were running together. She ran andran, though whether her feet were actually moving afterwards shewas never sure - all that passed through her mind was the necessityto evade the bolt from the crossbow.

Suddenly a pair ofstrong arms caught her and held her, there was a sensation offalling and with it a picture flashed across Ceri’s mind a tall, blueeyed, black haired man sitting astride a black charger and a black arrow comingfrom nowhere to embed itself in histhigh. Someone was gently rocking her back and forth as she sobbed, greatgasping sobs that seemed to wrench at the very soul of her being. Over the sobs she could hear a voice murmuring, “Sssh, my Princess, sssh. It’s all right, there’s nothing to fear any longer. He’s gone.Sssh.”

She pulled herselfaway and raised a tear-streaked face to see Galahad bending over her, “Monchevalier,” she said shakily.

Galahad smiled andsaid gently, “Its not every day I get to comfort a damsel in distress.”He tactfully handed her a handkerchief.

A gleam of mischief lit Ceri’s eyes, “I thought that’s what all you knights of Camelot were meant to do - help damsels in distress.”

“Yes,” Galahad replied, “butthe majority of them didn’t fall on my neck the way you did.”

Another figure kneltbeside Ceri’s and handed her a cup of something. She smiled wanly as sherecognised the antlers, “Lord Cernunnos,” she said softly, “whereare we?”

“You have been runningthrough Time,” Herne replied, “When the creature of the Dark fired on you, you screamed Galahad’s name. But by then we were powerless tohelp you. All we could do was to come to this time and call out to you inthe hope that you would hear us and come towards us, and you did.”

Cerian suddenlyremembered her vision, “A man - a man was wounded with the arrow meantfor me. Who was he?”

Herne nodded, “The arrow was meant for you, but it would also beattracted to any member of your family-”

“Then that thing that wassent to kill me - he was right?”

“Yes,” Herne sighed,“your father is Count Ambrosius Aurelianus, at present he isbeing borne back to King Budec’s stronghold. Look into the flames.”

Ceri stared into thefire and slowly a picture formed, she seemed to be standing on theramparts of a castle or a fort, a group of people werecarrying someone on a hurdle. Her vision telescoped and it was as if she toowas walking beside the stretcher, she looked down at the face and saw the man who had been wounded, the bolt still protrudedfrom his thigh. She looked up and into the face of anotherman, this one with russet hair and a beard yet there was somethingin him that reminded her of the Count. The men laid him down andher peripheral vision caught sight of a young man carrying a cloak of some sort, he coveredthe Count warmly, Ceri stared at him, he could only have been about twelve butalready she could see that the boy was a copy of the wounded man. The Count waslifted and the men set a quicker pace to reach their goal, at the gatestood a cloaked black figure, a smooth, milk-white hand touched therusset-bearded man’s arm, “Lord,” Ceri heard a soft voice that made thehairs on her neck prickle, “I have the skill to save him, wilt thou permit me.I am Gwenwyn.”

“Lady, you have mypermission,” the man bowed his head and the image before Cerian’s eyesfaded and she was left staring into the flames. “I fear for CountAmbrosius,” she said softly.

“As I,” Herne repliedquietly.

“That woman, she’s in thepay of Vortigern!”

“That would notbe so bad. Search your heart Princess, she is much more than that.”

Cerian let her mind drift, something about the name,about those milk-white hands, “She is one of the Dark Ones. Greatshe is and few can stand up to herpower, Her name is poison.”

“Good.” Herne said his antlered head nodding, “we must depart. Sir Galahad - Iregret that you may not accompany us this time but fear not, we shallhave need of you in the future. I shall return thee to the Abbey if thou wiltpermit it.”

“Most assuredly,Lord,” Galahad knelt and took Ceri’s shoulders, ”You bear a gift that may do great good, use it wisely My Princess.” He kissedher gently as a brother might and slowly faded from view. Ceri could still feel the pressure of his hands on her shoulders.

How good is your French?”Herne asked, suddenly changing the subject.

“C’est passable, monseigneur. Mais ce n’est pas Brêton.”

“Well at leastyour French is better than your Welsh.” Herne looked slightly sheepishagain and then said, “I am afraid I lied when I said that I could notmake you speak any language, I can of course make you as fluent in Brêtonas in English, it is just rather a complicated spell and it only laststhree days. What I will do is enable you to comprehend spoken Brêton, and an ability to speak French as you would speak English. Now - let ussee what you can wear.”

Cerian pulled along woollen gown from the bag Herne had given her and stared, it was a deepcerulean blue. She looked up at him silenced into awe. For a moment he staredat her and then Ceri found her voice, “Where did these clothes-” her voicebroke and she couldn’t complete the sentence. She slipped on a pair of soft leather sandals and Herne pulled avermillion red cloak from somewhere and then he looked at her, “This was yourmother’s” he said, holding out the brooch, Cerian took it gingerly, the images were of three horses their legs intertwined, “your fathergave it to her, it is how he will know you.” He fastened it at the neck of the cloak.

“I’m not ready,” Cerian saidslowly.

“If not now, thenwhen?” Herne took her shoulders and said, “I shall escort you tothe stronghold and turn you over to the care of the Warden, you will beall right, my magnificent Princess.”

“But how do I get back?”

“At the moment Ishould worry about Ambrosius, if he should die then the invasion ofBritain dies with him and Artus will never rule a united kingdom.”

Cerian nodded, “Yes my lordHerne.”

Herne nodded curtly as if satisfied, “I shall fetch the horses, drink your meadmy lady.”

Ceri stared into thefire, she wondered how she was going to confront her father. For that matter, she thought, how am I going to confront the Dark - I am not so great as Herne thinks. She felt a hand touch her shoulder, “Are you ready, Madam?”

Ceri smiled, “I doubtI’ll ever be truly ready, but ready or not I must face the wrath of theDark.”

She mounted thechestnut steed Herne had brought her and heard the creak of leatheras Herne mounted the other animal behind her. The steed walked forward and Herne turned to her and said, “You must announce yourself as a friend of Ambrosius, I doubt you will beallowed access to him but you will be treated with all courtesy.”

“Who do I ask the answersof?” Ceri enquired.

“This time, Princess,of yourself.” Herne’s dark eyes fixed themselves on the horizon andhe spurred his mount forward into a trot. Ceri sat watchinghim for a moment before digging her heels into her steed’s sides and followinghim.