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now, before the pathways to the Kingdom are overgrown and lost. Once lost, Bright Star, they will no
longer be found; even with much searching they will not be found.
Remember well theKingdomofSummerand let its light become your prow star. . . let its song be a victory
song on your lips. . . let its glory cover you, my beautiful son. . .
No! Do not go, my father! Do not leave me alone and forlorn! Please, stay but a little. . .Taliesin !
He is gone, Wolf. But did you see how his face shone when he spoke to me? It was not the vision of a
fevered brain. Never that. Taliesin came to me; my father spoke to me. He spoke to me and I heard the
sound of his voice.
Yes, and I heard his stern warning.
NINE
If I am crazed, if I am mad, if I am mad. . . mad I am and there is no help for Myrddin.
But wretched as I am before all the world, I was not always the scrag of hair and bone you see shivering
on filthy haunches with flies biting his nether parts. Was Myrddin ever king in Dyfed, Wolf?
Aye, that he was. . . he was. . . He was, and nevermore will be. Wild Man of the Wood I am. Yet,
while I live, the creatures of the forest hearken to me, for I am their lord.
Let the Forest Lord speak forth his prophecy!
No scribes attend me, no servants have I to give account of what I shall say. Pelleas, where are you,
boy? Have you, even you, deserted me, Pelleas?
Intelligent words are uttered to the winds. Wise words from the Soul of Wisdom go unheeded. Let it go,
let it go. The bard'sawen will not be chained; it moves as it will and no mortal hand may make bold to
bid or restrain. Let it go, fool!
Stir up the flames, read the glowing embers and tell us something of happiness. Great Light, in this bleak
place, you know we need some kindly cheer. What is it that shines up at me from the bed of ashes?
Behold! Ganieda dressed in fine linen, clothed with the purity of new-fallen snow. Bearer of my soul,
keeper of my heart, she walks on a carpet of rose petals, a peerless maid, chaste before her lord. Her
smile is as the golden sunshower; her laughter like a silver rain.
Pray to the God who made us, Dafyd! Praise him most eloquently for the gift he has given this day.
Amen, so be it!
My marriage day was all a day of wedding should be. I have heard my grandmother speak of her
marriage to Elphin, and the celebration that it was. For unlike Taliesin and Charis, who had no
celebration  and likely needed none  Elphin and Rhonwyn had been wed in fine old Celtic style and
they wanted to see me wed in like manner.
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Consequently, the Cymry of Caer Cam bestowed on that gladsome day all the fire and verve of their
happiness. Not that Maelwys was to be outdone  he would have hosted the celebration, but Ganieda
was Custennin's daughter and Custennin's the feast, as was his right. Maelwys had to content himself with
housing the celebrants.
In truth, I remember little of the day. All is shadow next to the daylight of Ganieda, bright and shining
star. She was never more beautiful, more graceful and serene. She was love embodied for me, I swear it;
and I hope I was for her.
On that fine day, we two stood before Dafyd in the chapel and we gave each other the gift of rings after
the Christian custom, and spoke out the eternal promises that would bind our souls, as our hearts had
already been bound by love  and as our bodies would be joined later that night.
Ganieda's black hair was brushed and shining, it hung in long braids entwined with silver thread; she
wore a circlet of spring flowers, pink as a maid's blush  they filled the wooden chapel with their
fragrance. Her mantle was white, and white embroidered; on each tassel hung a tiny gold bell. Over one
shoulder was draped the marriage cloak she had woven that winter: a fine expanse of imperial purple and
bright sky blue in the cunning checked pattern of the north country; it was held by a great, gold brooch.
There were golden bracelets on her wrists and bands of gold on her arms. She wore sandals of white
leather on her feet.
The most beautiful of the Fair Folk, she was a vision.
I scarcely recall what I wore  no one took notice of me beside her; I know I took no notice of myself.
In my hands I carried the slim golden tore that was my wedding gift to her. She would, after all, be a
queen and should have a tore like the great queens of old.
Dafyd, his dark robes brushed clean, his face glowing like the bride's beside me, held up the holy text for
all to see, and he pronounced the marriage rite. When he finished, we laid our joined hands on the pages
of the sacred book and repeated vows to one another as Dafyd instructed, whereupon he made a prayer
for us.
In his great benevolence, Dafyd allowed Blaise to come forward and sing the joining of our souls after
the manner of the bards, which he did with simple and elegant dignity. The harp was deeply appreciated
by all gathered in the chapel  there is something about a harp, and a true bard's voice lifted in song, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]