Daughter Of The Morning
Duke Of The Red Dragon

Cerian pulled her vermillioncloak more tightly around her as a misty drizzle began to fall. Herfingers brushed against the pewter brooch, it felt faintly warm and shewondered about her mother.

She urged thechestnut into a trot and reined it in next to Herne’s mount, “Lord-” she began hesitantly.

Herne turned towards her and saw the query in her blue eyes, “Ask any question of me,Princess, I shall do my utmost to answer it.”

“Do I look like my mother?”

Herne appeared to ponder this for a moment and then he said, “Yes, but your eyes are a legacy from your father. You actvery much like him, impetuous, foolhardy, irresponsible-”

Ceri looked away suddenlyashamed of her behaviour.

Herne’s voice becamevery gentle, “but also compassionate, courageous and noble. Ambrosius would befollowed into the jaws of Hell because his men love him so much.”

“You have morefaith in me than I,” Ceri remarked, “As whom do I introduce myself?”

Herne was silent for acouple of minutes and then a smile lit his features, “As LadyCerian Prichard, kinsman of the Duke Of Tintagel,Gorlois.”

“Why Gorlois?”

“Because he is far enoughaway not to arrive unexpectedly and because Gorlois has ever been astaunch supporter of Ambrosius. When all is explainedto the satisfaction of everyone then he will understand that you had yourreasons.”

“I hope so,” Ceri sighedsuddenly and said, “not everybody is going to be pleased to see me. There are those of the Light who have led for centuriessince the age of Arthur, and I fear that I may upset them.”

Herne turned a mildgaze on her and said softly, “I am not upset and part of the charge togovern the Light has fallen on my shoulders.”

Ceri smiled, “But didyou make the choice or was the choice laid upon you, you see those whochose of their own accord to lead will not be pleased when a usurper comesalong.”

“Do you feel like ausurper?” Herne asked.

“Sometimes,” Ceriadmitted, “they won’t follow me just because I prove myself.”

“On the contrary,” Hernereplied, “that is precisely why they will follow you - you are the lastof the Light and there are many tasks ahead of you; not least the one you face at present - they knelt to you at Glastonbury, why should you not lead them?”

“Why should I?” Cerireplied. “I fear that they knelt to me only because of who I was, not what Iwas.”

Herne chuckled softly,“You truly believe that they only knelt to you because ofyour title?” His golden eyes held hers and he spoke again,“they knelt because the Midwinter Thorn has not blossomed for over a thousand years yet it bloomed for you; they knelt because you freed the truest knightthat ever lived and returned him to his king. The power within you ebbsand swells like the tide. You are the chosen one - evenif you won’t admit it to yourself.”

Ceri fell silent andher fingers touched the brooch again, “Lord,” she quavered, “I don’treally want to be the chosen one.”

“And Galahad didn’twant to sit in the Siege Perilous, you are evenly matched you both. Be ofgood heart my Lady, it will not always burden you. When I am free, so will yoube.”

The lane became a definitetrack along which the riders steered the horses. Eventually they mounted the rise and saw the standing stonesbeneath them, a mist had risen from the ground giving the impression that the huge monoliths were floating. They halted the horsesand waited while their mounts snorted and stamped and their breath hungin the air like white clouds.

“This is a HolyPlace,” Herne said softly, “and you may - one day - discover why.”

“Why one day?”

“Because the godwho inhabits this place is a soldier’s god - a man’s god, not a woman’s.”

“In my time,” Ceri beganslowly, “there are women soldiers.”

“And in this time,”Herne replied, “but they have a goddess of their own. Make yourobeisance to the god of this place for the Count worships Him and you mayneed His assistance.”

That sounds like a prophecy, Cerian thought but she said nothing. Shestood up in the stirrups and bowed solemnly.

Herne regarded herapprovingly and when she eased herself back into the saddle he spoke,“That was well done.” He nodded as if in recognition to the standingstones as if he was greeting an old friend, “come, the night is almostdone and I must be far away by morning.”

“Puis, je suis en prêt, monseigneur,” Cerian replied automatically and then realised she hadspoken in French.

“Good,” Herne’s eyes twinkled and Ceri suddenly spluttered, “you’ve cast thespell!”

“But of course,” Hernesmiled, “this place is magical and I utilised some of its magic. The godof this place and I have known each other for some time.”

That’s what I thought, but again she said nothing. Herne dismounted and as he did so his form changed again and he appeared to be clothed in a monk’s habit, Ceri found herself looking down on his tonsured head. He took the chestnut’s bridle and began to lead ittowards the huge gates. The guard stepped forward and demandedtheir identities.

Herne smiled and turning tothe horse he helped Ceri dismount. Her feet touched the hard earth and she turned to see Herne regarding hercompassionately, “My Lady,” he bowed solemnly and turned to the guard. “I am Father Elias,” Herne said softly, “I amescorting a kinsman of the Duke of Gorlois to the protection of King Budec. Mayshe be admitted?”

The guard looked doubtfuland then he said, “Wait here.” He turned to the other man andsaid softly, “Watch them.” Then he opened the gate slightly and slippedinside. Ceri stroked her horse’s nose and patted its neck,“Sssh, my beauty, ssh.”

The guard reappearedand gestured for them to come through, Herne shook his head, “I mustleave, my charge ends here.” He smiled at Ceri and said softly, “Farethee well, My Lady.”

“Farewell, Father,” Cerianreplied and then her lips formed the words, Be careful, my Lord

Herne nodded and thentaking his steed’s bridle began to lead it away from the fort.Meanwhile the heavy gate swung back and Ceri led her steed into thecastle.

She stood in a smallcourtyard of hard-packed earth, she slipped her cloak off andpocketing the brooch she threw the cloak over the chestnut’swithers. The guard came forward to greet her and began to speak in a strangely formal tone, “Wouldst thou follow me, Lady. My liege doth desire your presence in the Great Hall and I-”

“I must first stable thehorse and groom him. Convey my respects to my liege and say that I will joinhim as soon as I am able.”

“Lady,” the guard bowed andexited hurriedly.

Ceri rubbed the chestnutdown and made sure that there was hay in the manger and water in thetrough. She removed the saddle and bridle and set them on one of theracks and draped the tack over it. A shadow fell across her and sheturned to see the guard standing behind her, he looked slightly desperate,“Lady, will you accompany me, please?”

Ceri nodded. “Certainly,would you lead the way.”

Budec was eating inthe Great Hall, in the fireplace a huge fire roared and on thewalls torches burnt brightly illuminating the enormous room. Budec and the soldiers were eating whatappeared to be a hastily prepared meal. The combined effectgave Ceri the impression that the servants had readied the room in hasteonly as Budec arrived.

Why did you not come when Ifirst requested your presence?” Budec’s dark, almost black eyes surveyedher coldly.

“Forgive me, my liege,” Cerireplied softly, “I was grooming my horse - I did not mean to offend, but I haveno possessions of my own save that horse.”

“You are kin to Ambrosius?”

“Yes, my liege,” Cericurtsied.

“The Count has beengravely wounded,” Budec said slowly, “I regret that he isunable to offer you hospitality at present but I shall be glad to provide for you until he is well. Be seated lady and I shall have food and wine brought for you.” Budec nodded to one of theservants. A chair was brought and set next to his and food was laid onthe table.

Ceri sat andusing the dagger at her waist cut a piece off her cold venison. As thewine flowed more readily Budec became more talkative. “Ya shee,” he said,almost spilling his goblet into Ceri’s lap, “the injury ishn’t sherious, butthe offishers shwear that the arrow appeared out of thin air - it’sh blackmagicsh, thatsh what ‘tis.”

Ceri said nothing andwished that she was somewhere else. Eventually she plucked up the courageto speak, “My lord, your welcome has been most kind in difficultcircumstances, is it possible that I might be excused?”

“Shurely,” Budecnodded, “Mayhap the Count will have recovered somewhat by tomorrow,Shleep well, Lady Cerian.” He gestured to one of the servants and gentle iftentative hands escorted her away from the table.

“I am Flaptongue,” the mansaid as he lit an oil lamp and escorted Ceri up the long dark staircase,“you mustn’t mind King Budec, he’s upset, that’s why he’s drinking.”

“Are he and the Count veryclose?”

“He brought them toLess Britain when Uther was but a babe and the Count himself hadjust turned ten. He is more worried than he will admit - give himtime, Lady, he is not always this uncouth.”

“Was Ambrosius expected?”

“In five days - yes -there was to be a parley here at Budec’s castle. But because the Count was woundedso far from his own territory Budec decided to bring him to his ownstronghold. The hall was hurriedlyprepared for the soldiers and Budec himself. That is why I urge you not to judge him too harshly.”

As they reached the top ofthe landing a huge man with russet hair and a beard that matchedstalked out of the shadows making Cerian jump in surprise.

“Flaptongue!” The manbellowed, “where’s Budec! My brother’s condition worsens!”

“King Budec is drinking himself to oblivion in the GreatHall,” Flaptongue replied, “I doubt he is amenable to rational conversation at present, Lord Uther.”

Ceri stared atthe man awe threatening to overwhelm her, Uther was dressed like aRoman warrior, his breastplate catching and reflecting the light of the oillamp the servant held.

“You’re probably right,” Uther grumbled, “all right, there’s nothing that may be donetonight, I shall speak with him in the morning.”

“That was Uther,” Flaptonguesaid as if that explained everything, “the Count’s brother. Lady, yourroom.” He opened the door and Ceri saw a medium sized room sparsely furnished with a bed, a chest anda table upon which stood another oil lamp. Flaptongue lit itand turned back to Ceri, “There are nightclothes in thechest, and a selection of clothes. When Lord Ambrosius is well he willsee you properly furnished with garments.”

“I am certain of that,” Cerireplied, “thank you for your kindness.”

“Lady,” Flaptongue bowed andexited. Ceri looked around the room and saw the window. Shewalked across the room and opened it carefully, her room overlooked thecourtyard and the front gate. A pale golden moon shone down upon thecastle. Ceri stared up at it for a long time wondering what she ought todo next.

Eventually she came toa decision and taking up the lamp and her scrip left the room and movedsoftly down the corridor. Once or twice she heard doors open and Flaptongue’svoice. When this happened she flattened herself against the cold stoneand shaded the flame of the lamp until all was silent again.

She padded softly down the corridor until she reached a large orielwindow through which the rays of the moon shone faintly. To her left wasanother passage and to her right a large portal dark with age. Ceri stood before the windows wondering what to do next, finally sheclosed her eyes and let the tendrils of thought reach outleft and right, yes, it was just a tendril but something urged her right. She opened her eyes and sighed softly.Picking up the lamp she turned to the great door and pushed it open.

For a moment shestared in horror at the scene before her, Ambrosius lay supine on a bed againstthe wall, his eyes were glassy and over his taut skin was a layer ofperspiration, the creature calling herself Gwenwyn was bent overhis leg and muttering. Ceri felt the hairs on the back of her neck beginto prickle and the air around her become taut.

“What are you doing?” Ceriangasped.

The creature turned and instead of a face Ceri saw only an endlessabyss, and in that darkness saw areflection of herself, as others saw her, puny, ineffectual with powersthat were of no use to anyone, erratic, awkward,useless. She swallowed hard and thought Iwas right, they’ll never follow me, and on this thought she saw otherimages, the great hall at Glastonbury, doubt in the faces of those whoknelt to her, all twisting round and round in her mind. The lamp droppedfrom her hand and crashed to the floor. Cerian’s legs buckled as shepressed her hands to her head. She could sense the creature smiling andthere was nothing she could do.

Princess, Ceri blinked, it wasHerne’s voice in her mind, All this is lies, the Dark corrupt all thatthey touch, what I have told you is the truth, you are my Princess andthe Last of the Light. Stand tall!

From somewhere withinher a spark of defiance flared and Ceri raised her head to stare atthe foul creature, “Dark spawn, ally to Vortigern, in the name of theLight, begone!”

The creature stared and fromthe blankness beneath the cowl there came an air of puzzlement, as if itcould not quite believe what it was hearing, it took a step back.

Ceri gritted her teeth andwhispered, “Help me, Cernunnos!” Suddenly the pressure on her seemed to easeslightly, Ceri rose to her feet slowly, painfully, “In the name of the Light,”she murmured and it was as if pure strength poured down upon her. “Go!” she ordered, “I command you to leave in the name of Epona, inthe name of Mithras in the name of the Light!”

The creature laughed, “Allyour spells and incantations are of no use to you - for once over the thresholdthe Dark has power over all the inhabitants of a house and Uther gave me entrance-”

“But I did not!” a new voicespoke. “Uther gave you permission to heal Ambrosius, you have not donethat, therefore what power you had is void - get thee gone!”

The creature snarled andappeared to fold in on itself, as it disappeared Ceri thought she heardit say, “You have defeated me - but I have already branded my name in him. You can do nothing!”

She disappeared leaving a wisp of smoke and an oily feel to the air. Cerian ranforward and gently pulled back the covers, she stared nausea rising in herthroat, the shaft had been broken off and the arrowhead was still embedded in his thigh.

“By Mithras,” a voicewhispered beside her and Cerian turned to come face to face with ayoung boy of about twelve, she smiled hesitantly and then turned back to Ambrosius.

She turned quickly andsaw Uther standing in the doorway, “My Lord Uther,” she acknowledged,“your brother is grievously ill and it may take all my skill tosave him. I need a brazier brought in here, some hot water,mulled wine, and clean cloths.” She caught sight of Uther’s face, “please?”

Something in her pleamust have moved him because he nodded quickly and within moments Cerianhad everything she had requested.

“I am Myrddin, MyrddinEmrys,” the boy said softly at her elbow, “they call me Merlin.”

“My name is Cerian,Cerian Aurelia. They call me Ceri. Will you watch with me this long nightMerlin?”

The boy nodded andCeri began her preparations, she poured a goblet of the mulled wineand added something from one of thevials in her scrip. Gently she raised the wounded man’s head andheld the wine to his lips. His teeth chattered on the rim but alittle wine slipped down his throat. His eyes opened and two pairs of blue eyesstared into each other, something flared in them and Ambrosius put up a shakinghand to push the cup away. He opened his mouth to speak but Cerigently laid her finger on his lips, “Rest my lord.” The dark head fellback the eyes closed.

Ceri carefully removed the glowing dagger from the brazier and bent overAmbrosius, she looked up quickly at Merlin, “You must hold his shoulders,” she said softly. Merlin nodded quickly.

Using the dagger, Ceri madefour deep cuts that resembled the four cardinal points of a compass, there wasthe acrid stench of burning flesh and as pus welled up, the tumescentodour of infection filled the room. Merlin gagged and turned away.Carefully Ceri drew out the arrow, Ambrosius moaned and tried to struggle up but the drug Cerian had administered held him. “Get me thebranding iron,” she said thickly. Merlin released his father and turned to thebrazier.

Ambrosius raised himself onhis elbows and stared at the young woman holding a pad over the now bleedingwound. “Ceri?” He whispered hesitantly, “How can you be here?”

Ceri stared at the man, thedark hair matted with sweat and sticking to his flushed forehead, she wanted toask how he knew her name, did he know who she was, did he remember her mother? Sheswallowed and replied the only way she knew how, “I am here, my Lord, that isall that matters.” Merlin touched her shoulder and she turned to see himholding the branding iron. The tip glowed a sullen red. She swallowed andturned back to Ambrosius. “I have to cauterize the wound,” she explained, “andit will hurt.”

To her surprise he laughed,“I know. Give me something to bite on. Merlin, get the guards, they’ll need tohold me.” Merlin nodded and disappeared. Ceri found herself alone with theCount. He smiled at her and said softly, “You’re not her are you. She had greeneyes, yours are blue. But you look like her. You have the same name.” Shenodded hesitantly. “Ah. Then when I am well we shall speak of this, won’t we?”She nodded again and then Merlin returned bringing the two guards with him.Ambrosius lay back down and Merlin slipped a piece of wood between his teeth.

“Hold him.” Ceri ordered andthrust the glowing metal into the wound. There was a smell of burning flesh and Ambrosius arched in pain. Despitethe bit in his mouth Ceri heard him groan in agony. The two soldiers werefighting to keep his shoulders on the bed.

“Let him go,” she saidwearily as she lifted the iron bar, “It’s done.” She dropped the still hot ironbar into a bucket of water where it sent up clouds of steam. She leant forwardto see if Ambrosius was still conscious and saw a hand snake through the mist.“My Lord,” she said softly.

“You have your mother’sskill.” He smiled again and despite his pain Ceri could see his charisma, “Willyou tell me who you are?”

“Yes, My Lord,” Ceri began,“I am- ” and then she stopped because Ambrosius was unconscious again.

She bound a pad around thewound and bandaged the thigh. She nodded to Merlin, “Thank you,” shesaid softly.

Cerian eased herself intoone of the chairs and surveyed Merlin who had collapsed into the other, “Ithink he will be all right now.” She smiled tiredly as the first rays of therising sun caught the gold of her hair and made it look as though it wasaflame.

All through that dayAmbrosius slept peacefully but as the sun began to sink in the west thesymptoms of the fever returned with more severity. Cerian bent overa writhing Ambrosius. His body was drenched with sweat and his breath rattled in his throat. Cerian examined the bandages and discovered to her horror that the woundwas bleeding again and the blood was almost black.

“This is Dark Magic,” Ceriansaid, “and if we are to save your father’s life - I must do that which Ifeared to do. Watch your father - I must speak to Lord Uther.”

Just roused from sleep Utherstood proud and dark against the window, “I should not have listened toGwenwyn.”

“That is past, my lord. Idesire a free hand and your blessing.”

Uther turned heavily, “Andif I give it, will you bring my brother back well and whole?”

“I do not know my lord, butby Mithras and by Epona I hope so.”

Uther gazed at her forso long that Cerian began to become afraid and then he said, “Tell mewhat you need.”

Ceri bit her lipnervously, “I will need a fresh litter made of branches and eight of your menwho will speak no word of this night.”

“Granted,” Uther inclined,“what else?”

“Five torches and foodand drink for one night,” Cerian replied, “one last thing, myLord, the flasks that the wine will be in must be new, the foodfreshly prepared and the torches newly made.”

Torches lit the night sky outside the castle, Cerian bent over a shivering Ambrosius and tucked the bearskin around him. Then slowly the strange procession moved off towards the standingstones. Slowly the men carried the litter to the centreof the circle and carefully Ambrosius was lowered to the ground. The men stepped away from it and retreated to a place outside the circle.

“Come with me,” Cerianturned to Merlin, “you have the Sight, it may be that you will seesomething.” Cerian walked forward and raising her arms above her head sent the thought out, Mithras, God of the Soldier, you are not my god but I bring one who needs the protection these stones offer and the healing that they may give. Mithras, God of the midnight let us pass!Nothing happened and suddenly Ceri was afraid. She swallowed her fear and sentthe thought out again, Mithras, thou artnot my god. But I bring thy disciple to this circle for the protection that itoffers. Not for my sake or title, Lord Mithras, but for thy disciple allow usentrance and sanctuary!

By her side Merlin gaspedand then even Ceri saw him. He was dressed as a soldier, girt as forbattle. He wore ankle-length sandals of leather and his kilt and beltwere immaculate. His cuirass was burnished to such a sheen that the reflectedmoonlight dazzled them both. A crimson cloak was thrown back from his left shoulder while his right hand rested on the hilt of a sword. Cerian looked upand saw a noble face beneath a shining helmet and white transverse crest.Gentle eyes surveyed them and then he spoke, “Ye are welcome here,Daughter, in this sure buttress of the Light. Enter and be not afraid. From what do you flee?”

“Not I, Lord,”Ceri stepped aside to show an unconscious Ambrosius, “One of your own, Isuspect that the powers of the Dark have been used against him.”

“Against this no force ofDarkness may prevail, you will be safe here. I shall watch over you.” Mithrasregarded her thoughtfully and then said, “Know this, Lady. If ye bring him herefor thine own glory and honour then I shall seek ye out and before all AncientOnes will I decry your infamy.”

Ceri nodded speechlessly,and then she said softly, “In some things Lord Mithras even I am powerless. Ibrought him here because it is only here in the presence of his god that hewill replace the healing he seeks and that which Britain needs if it is to beunited again. He must live for many years yet and form Britain into a solidwhole for his nephew.”

“Then I shall watch overyou.” Mithras promised, “Fear not. The Dark shall not prevail. For this is HolyGround.”

Ceri nodded, “I thankyou my Lord.” She and Merlin then planted a torch at each corner of the litter,she knelt beside Ambrosius and laid her left hand against his face and took his right in her own, “Ambrosius Aurelianus,” she said, the voice wasgentle but there was a power behind the words. The deep blue eyes opened and with difficulty met Ceri’s, the hand against the Count’sface began to glow softly with a pale golden light. Ambrosiusfocused on Cerian’s face, “Cerian,” he whispered urgently, “youcame - I thought you dead-”

“Rest my lord,” Ceri urgedand Ambrosius smiled wearily and closed his eyes. Ceri felt Merlin wrapone of the cloaks around her shoulders, “Thank you, Emrys.”

Merlin seated himself opposite Ceri and pulled another of the cloaks aroundhimself. He poured two goblets of the honey-sweetened wine and handed one toCeri, she took it gratefully, taking one of the cloths she wiped the sweat from the Count’s face. He stirred and opened his eyes. Merlin grasped his left hand and said in a voice perilously closeto tears, “Father!”

Ceri held a goblet of the wine to Ambrosius’ lips, he swallowed thepotion and then lay back gazing at the sky. Merlin smiled at her and he said,“By all the gods that ever were and are, you have a great power, Lady.”

Ceri laughed andin the silent, frosty night the laugh was like bells ringing out acrossthe landscape, “I’m no lady, Merlin, and I doubt I’ll ever be.”

“You’re no serf either, I’llswear to that.” Both Merlin and Ceri jumped when they heard the voice ofAmbrosius and then suddenly they laughed with relief. Ceri stood up and stoodlooking eastwards her back against one of the sarsens. A wind had arisen and as Ambrosius lay regarding her it seemed that he was looking atanother Cerian. She shook her fair hair and let the wind catch it, in themoonlight it looked like a white flag. A strange device fastened the crimsoncloak enfolding her slender form, the moonlight gleamed on it,catching the design of intertwined horses.

“Cerian,” he said softly.

She dropped toher knees and asked quickly, “Are you in pain, my lord?”

“No,” Ambrosius smiled, “Iwondered where you got the brooch.”

“I was given it by someonewho knew my mother.” Cerian unclipped the heavy Epona brooch and placed it in the Count’s hand, ”I was told itbelonged to her.” Ambrosius lifted the ornament so that the moonlight sparkled off the pewter. His eyesmet hers and then he handed the brooch back.

Cerian slid the clipback onto the cloak and stood up again. Eastwards the sky was growingpaler while a few stars twinkled in the west. The wind was fresher nowand Ceri stood, like one of the great monoliths that made up the Giant’sDance, awaiting the dawn.

As the sun rose Ceriturned to Ambrosius, “My Lord, it is time we left this place - can yourise?”

Ambrosius eased himself fromthe bier gingerly and then rose to his feet as if he had never been injured.Cerian’s eyes hurt and all she wanted to do was sleep.

The men-at-arms rosesluggishly as Ambrosius approached and stared dumbfounded at him as if he was an apparition, “Burn the litter and everythingon it,” Ceri ordered.

Suddenly she swayed on her feet and wouldhave fallen had Ambrosius not scooped her up in his arms. Ambrosius gently laidCerian in the arms of one of the men, quickly he mounted oneof the horses that Merlin led forward, “Give her to me, “ he ordered “I go now toKing Budec, do as the Lady commanded, I will speak with you later.”Gently Cerian was passed to him and he repositioned his arm so thatCeri’s head rested more comfortably and trotted towards the fort. Merlinspurred his own mount into a trot and followed.