Stephen Lawhead - Pendragon Cycle 4 - Pendragon

VIP免费

2024-12-20 0 0 797.96KB 375 页 5.9玖币

侵权投诉

What is there to say of Arthur after all these years?

His birth you know, and something of his end. You know his battles and

his triumphs — those, at least, which the story-makers tell. And Aneirin's

book is open to all who care to read it. Poor Aneirin, he laboured so hard

at his black book. Yet even Aneirin caught but the slightest glimpse of the

man he meant to honour. It brought him misery in the end.

Arthur's fame, his very presence, like bright sunlight on clear water,

obscured more than it revealed. So, you hear tales and think you know the

man. You hear a part and think you know the whole. You hear one of a

thousand speculations spun out by dim and dreary dreamers and think you

have grasped the truth.

But do you know the highest achievement of Arthur's life? Do you know

his sorest trial, when he stood alone on the battle plain and all Britain hung

in the balance? Do you know how he laboured to save the Kingdom of

Summer from its deadliest foe? No?

Well, I am not surprised. In this ill-born age, much is forgotten that would

best be remembered. Men always give over the best of their birthright for

the small comfort of the moment; the treasures of the previous age are sold

cheap, its wealth trampled underfoot. Alas, this is ever the way of things.

And where Arthur is concerned much that should be known remains

hidden. Because Arthur himself was hidden in those troubled early years.

But I, Myrddin Emrys, know all the lost and hidden tales, for I was with

him from the beginning. And I stood beside him on his darkest day. A day

HIDDEN TALES

They say Merlin is a magician, an enchanter, a druid of dark lore. If I were

and if I were, I would conjure better men than rule this island now! I

would bring back those whose very names are charms of power: Cai,

Bedwyr, Pelleas, Gwalchavad, Llenlleawg, Gwalcmai, Bors, Rhys, Cador,

and others: Gwenhwyvar, Charis, Ygerna. Men and women who made this

sea-girt rock the Island of the Mighty.

I need no Seeing Bowl, no black oak water, or fiery embers by which to

perceive them. They are ever with me. They are not dead — they only

sleep. Hear me! I have but to speak their names aloud and they will awake

and arise. Great Light, how long must I wait?

I climb the green hills of the Glass Isle alone, and I wear a different name.

Oh, I have so many names: Myrddin Emrys among the Cymry, and Merlin

Embries to those in the south; I am Merlinus Ambrosius to the Latin

speakers: Merlin the Immortal. I am Ken-ti-Gern to the small, dark Hill

Folk of the empty north. But the name I wear now is a name of my own

choosing, a simple name, of no consequence to anyone. Thus I guard

and protect my power. That is as it should be. One day those who sleep

will awaken, and those who guard their slumbers will be revealed. And on

that day, the Pendragon will reclaim his long-abandoned throne. So be it!

Oh, I am impatient! It is the curse of my kind. But time will not be

hurried. I must content myself with the work given to me: keeping

Arthur's sovereignty alive until he returns to take it up once more. Believe

me, in this day of fools and thieves that is no easy task.

Not that it ever was. From the very beginning, it took my every skill to

preserve the Sovereignty of Britain for the one whose hand was made to

Thus, Aurelius and Uther, between them, had bestowed a prodigious

legacy on the babe. For never was a sovereign better loved than Aurelius,

and never one more battle-lucky than Uther.

So Arthur, yet a babe in arms, required protection from the power-mad

dogs who would see in him a threat to their ambitions. I did not know

Arthur would be Pendragon then. The way men tell it, I knew from the

beginning. But no; I did not fully appreciate what had been given me. Men

seldom do, I find. My own deeds and doings occupied me more than his

small life, and that is the way of it.

Still, I recall the first faint glimmerings of the splendour that would be.

Though it was a long time coming, when it finally broke, that glory blazed

with a light so bright I believe it will shine forever.

Hear me now:

The nobles of Britain had been called to council in Londinium upon Uther

Pendragon's death to decide who should be High King — and there were

plenty who thought to take his place. When it became clear no agreement

could be reached — and rather than see a hissing toad like Dunaut or a

viper like Morcant seize the throne — I thrust the Sword of Britain into

the keystone of the unfinished arch standing in the churchyard.

'You ask for a sign,' I shouted, my voice a roar of fury. 'Here it is:

whosoever raises the sword from this stone shall be the trueborn king of

all Britain. Until that day, the land will endure such strife as has never

been known in the Island of the Mighty to this time, and Britain shall have

no king.'

Then Pelleas and I fled the city in disgust. I could no longer abide the

scheming duplicity of the small kings, so quit the council and rode with all

haste to find Arthur. There was an urgency to my purpose, certainly. But

began to wonder if there was more to our speed than a simple wish to see

Arthur.

Indeed, something in me had changed. Perhaps it was the strain of

contending with the small kings. Or perhaps it happened when I joined the

Sword of Britain to the stone.

However it was, this I know: the Merlin who had ridden into Londinium

so full of hope and anticipation was not the same Merlin who rode out. I

felt in my soul that the course of my life had taken an unexpected turn, and

that I must now steel myself for a far more subtle warfare than any I had

known.

Aliajacta est, said old Caesar, a man who knew a thing or two about power

and its perversities. For good or ill, the die was cast. So be it!

Leaving Londinium and the yapping of the petty kings behind us, Pelleas

and I rode directly to Caer Myrddin. We travelled amicably; the road was

good to us, and the journey pleasant. It does not need saying that our

arrival on that windswept, wintry morning was a surprise. Loyal Tewdrig,

who had faithfully shielded the child at my bidding, was still at the

Council of Kings, and we were not expected.

Upon reaching Caer Myrddin we were met by the spectacle of young

Arthur and the spitting cats. I saw the child clutching those two half-

grown cats, one in each fist, and it seemed to me a sign. 'Behold the Bear

of Britain!' I declared, gazing at the chubby child. 'A wayward cub, look at

him. Still, he must be taught like any young beast. Our work is before us,

Pelleas.'

As we climbed down from our horses, Tewdrig's men came running to

welcome us. Caer Myrddin — Maridunum in an elder time—seemed

man there, straight and tall, a big man, born to walk the earth as a king.

Truly, this was my first premonition of Arthur's future. Believe it!

Presently, I came back to myself, and turned to greet Llawr Eilerw,

battlechief and adviser to Lord Tewdrig, who held the caer in his lord's

absence.

'Welcome, Myrddin Emrys! Welcome, Pelleas!' Llawr gripped us by the

arms in greeting. 'Ah, and good it is to see you both.'

Just then we heard a shriek and turned. A young woman had appeared and

was standing over Arthur, scolding him. She slapped his hands to make

him release the cats, and the child cried out—in anger, not in pain—and

reluctantly let them go. The woman stooped and gathered up the child,

saw us watching, blushed, and turned hurriedly away.

'She has the care of the child?' I inquired.

' She has, Lord Emrys.'

'What happened to Enid — the woman I brought?'

Llawr regarded me with a frankly puzzled look. 'That is Enid—the very

same you brought here. There has been no one else.'

'Remarkable,' I confessed, much surprised. 'I would not have known her.

She has changed, and much for the better.'

'I will summon her, if you wish.'

'Later, perhaps,' I replied. 'It is not necessary now.'

'Of course,' said Llawr, 'forgive me. You have ridden far today and you are

thirsty. We will raise the welcome bowl between us.'

The beer was dark and frothy good. Tewdrig's hall was warm. The jar

went around several times and we talked idly with Llawr and some of the

men who had met us. Typically, no one would ask us outright why we had

If this year s harvest is as plentiful as the last, observed Llawr, we will

have surplus grain to trade — even with our new storehouses.'

'I noticed those,' I remarked. 'Four new granaries. Why? Is the caer

growing so big?'

'We are growing, it is true,' said one of the men, Ruel by name. 'But Lord

Tewdrig wants to begin storing more grain. 'The more we save now,' says

he, 'the less we will want later.' So he tells us.'

'And I agree with him," said Llawr sharply. 'Times are uncertain enough.

We can no longer live from one harvest to the next and be content. We

must have a care for the future.'

'There is wisdom in it,' I told them. 'In these evil days only a fool would

trust past benefits to continue.'

The men regarded me warily. Llawr forced a smile and attempted to

lighten the mood. 'Evil days? Surely, Emrys, things are not so bad as that.

The Saecsens are gone, and the Irish have not raided all year. We have

peace and plenty enough — any more and we will become soft and lazy.'

The others nodded agreement with their chief.

'Enjoy your peace and plenty, my friends. It is the last you will know in

this life.'

The smile faded from Llawr's face. The others looked on aghast. I was to

have this effect on men more and more as the years went by.

But it is not possible for the Cymry to remain downcast any great length of

time. The mood quickly lightened once more, and I, too, brightened as the

talk turned to other matters. When the beer was gone, the others took their

leave and we were alone with Llawr.

'Were Lord Tewdrig here,' he said, 'no doubt he would command a feast

for you. But'—he spread his hands helplessly — 'I do not know when he

The council was deadlocked. Agreement was impossible; no one was

chosen."

'I feared such,' sighed Llawr. 'Evil days, you said. Aye! You were right.'

He considered this for a moment, and then asked, 'What will happen

now?"

'That remains to be seen,' I replied.

Llawr might have asked, And have you seen it? But if the question was in

his mind, he refrained. 'Well,' he said stolidly, 'we have lived this long and

longer without a High King, we will go back to the way we were before.'

To this, I shook my head gently. 'Nothing,' I whispered, looking past

Llawr and out through the doorway — as if into the very heart of the

future itself— 'nothing will be as it was before.'

That night we ate simply and went early to our beds. After breaking fast

the next morning, I summoned Enid to me. We waited for her in Tewdrig's

chamber, talking softly. 'It is good that we have come here,' I told Pelleas.

'This morning I am content, as I have not been for a long time.'

'I am glad to hear it,' Pelleas replied.

In a moment the young woman Enid appeared. She had brought Arthur

with her and stood shyly on the threshold. She held the child close, as if

afraid we would steal the infant away from her.

'Closer, Enid,' I coaxed her gently. 'Let me look at the two of you.'

Deer-like, she moved cautiously forward, but only a step or two. I smiled

and beckoned her. I can be persuasive when I choose to be: am I not of the

Fair Folk, after all? Enid returned my smile and I saw the line of her

shoulders relax slightly.

'When I saw you yesterday, I did not recognize you. You are grown a very

This is his home, Enid pleaded — as if this were the thing closest to her

heart. 'You must not take him away.'

'He has enemies, Enid,' I explained softly. 'Or he soon will have — when

they remember him. And they will not now be . slow in remembering. He

will not be safe here any longer. The more cunning among them will look

for me and hope to find him.'

Enid bent her head and said nothing. She held Arthur's cheek against her

own. The child tangled a small hand in her soft brown hair.

'I did not bid you here to frighten you,' I said, rising. 'I only wanted to ask

after the child.' I stepped close to her and the child reached out a hand to

me, taking hold of the edge of my cloak. 'Sit, please; we will speak no

more of leaving just now.' We sat down together and Enid placed Arthur

between her feet. The child toddled to Pelleas and stood gazing up at him.

Pelleas smiled, reached down to take his hand, and, on a sudden

inspiration, thought to test the child. Allowing Arthur to hold two fingers

of either hand, Pelleas slowly raised his hands, pulling Arthur off his feet

to dangle above the floor. The infant liked this game and squealed to show

his pleasure.

Holding him off the ground, Pelleas started to swing the boy gently from

side to side — Arthur did not let go, but started to laugh. Pelleas swung

him faster, and Arthur began to giggle. Faster and faster, and Arthur

roared with delight. Deliberately, Pelleas pulled one of his hands free. The

child held on the more tightly with his remaining hand and laughed the

harder. Though we had seen him with the cats the day before, and should

have been prepared, still the lad's grip surprised me. The strength in those

pudgy little fingers was considerable.

At last, Pelleas lowered Arthur to the floor, to his loud protest: the babe

wanted to play the game again! Kneeling before the child, I took one tiny

文档加载中……请稍候！
如果长时间未打开，您也可以点击刷新试试。

下载文档到电脑，查找使用更方便

5.9 玖币 0人已下载

立即下载 VIP免费下载

摘要：

WhatistheretosayofArthurafteralltheseyears?Hisbirthyouknow,andsomethingofhisend.Youknowhisbattlesandhistriumphs—those,atleast,whichthestory-makerstell.AndAneirin'sbookisopentoallwhocaretoreadit.PoorAneirin,helabouredsoha\rdathisblackbook.YetevenAneirincaughtbuttheslightestglimpseofthemanhemeanttohon...

展开>> 收起<<

Stephen Lawhead - Pendragon Cycle 4 - Pendragon.pdf

共375页,预览75页

还剩页未读，继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

Stephen Lawhead - Pendragon Cycle 4 - Pendragon

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: