Peter and Sarah stared at the personage who continued to peer at them from behind the tree. It seemed like hours, but must only have been a few minutes. Eventually, Sarah thought that they might appear rude if introductions were not made shortly! She got up from the ground and walked forward, her hand outstretched.
“Hello, how do you do? I’m Sarah and this is my brother Peter.”
The personage came out from behind the tree, smiling broadly. He took Sarah’s hand and shook it warmly.
“I am Merlin,” he said, “and I have been waiting for you.”
“Waiting for us?” gasped Sarah.
“Are you, by any chance, THE Merlin?” said Peter.
He just could not help himself.
“I am, as far as I know, the only Merlin, now or then or to be!” returned Merlin, “and I have been waiting here for you for quite some time. The last three days, off and on, to be precise. You see, they said that you were coming, but they were not quite sure when… Soon! he said. It will be very soon, we have sent them many, many thought messages.”
“He?” asked Peter.
“Gwyn-ap-Nudd, of course,” Merlin smiled. “You will need a good explanation for all your troubles, I can tell, and the Lord Gwyn is waiting and longing to give it to you. We must hurry.”
“You’re right,” said Peter, trying to conceal his surprise, “we don’t have much time; less than three hours before we must be home again.”
Merlin smiled benevolently at the two children. Sarah was fascinated by him. Neither she nor Peter could help staring at him. Merlin was not at all what they expected and they had difficulty in believing that this was King Arthur’s famous magician friend. He looked so ordinary, and much too young. He looked to be about the same age as their own Father and therefore could hardly expect to be taken too seriously!
Then there were his clothes. They were certainly unusual, but not exactly what one supposed to be the uniform of a wizard. There was no pointed hat, in fact no hat at all. He had no beard and no purple cape with stars and moons on it. He wore a simple wool tunic, a dull mustard in colour, over some kind of linen undergarment, with a battered and tattered cloak of an indistinct bluey, purpley shade over the top. He did however carry a staff. Some recompense for not having a wand, Sarah thought.
“Very well!” said Merlin, “Very well indeed! And now door, show yourself.”
Sarah and Peter gasped again as Merlin pointed the long staff, upon which he had been leaning all this while, at a face of rock which suddenly appeared before them.
“We haven’t moved,” thought Peter, “But we are definitely somewhere else.”
“When did we leave the trees behind?” thought Sarah, “Perhaps we are in a dream.”
The rocks made a very curious scraping noise and parted obediently. Merlin poked them with his staff.
“As if he were jabbing someone in the stomach,” Peter whispered under his breath.
When there was enough of a doorway, Merlin encouraged the two astonished children to pass through it into a tunnel. This was a stone lined tunnel, carved upon either side with all kinds of leaves. Small lamps lit the way every now and again. In fact it was just like all the corridors and tunnels within…
“Arx Emain!” Sarah and Peter cried out at once.
“Good old Merlin, you have found what we were looking for,” said Peter.
“Yes, quite! Of course, and what did you expect? I would not be waiting for you out in the wild without the back door to hand, as it were. But come along and do hurry up. This tunnel is quite a long one and Gwyn does not like to be kept waiting. As a matter of fact,” he added as an afterthought, “neither do I. For your information, Peter and Sarah, Arx Emain was under your feet all the time!”
With this last remark, Merlin sped off down the tunnel.
“Like greased lightening,” Sarah thought, “I bet he’s much fitter than either of our parents, or me! I can hardly keep up with him.”
The two children tried to follow their new acquaintance, as best they could after their mammoth run just moments before. Fifteen to twenty minutes later, Peter and Sarah recognised exactly where they were.
“Stay here!” commanded Merlin from over his shoulder, as he disappeared round the corner. Peter and Sarah waited where they were in a state of great excitement.
“We’re almost at the Great Hall,” said Peter, his voice trembling just a little.
“Yes, I know, but I didn’t see where we were until about two turns ago.”
“Gwyn must be waiting in the Hall and Merlin has gone to announce us.”
“Why don’t we just go straight in, it’s only a little way round the corner. I’m sure the Elves won’t mind,” said Sarah.
She was impatient to get on with the job, now that they were actually inside the Elves’ domain.
“They might think that a bit rude,” Peter was uncertain, “but we might give it a try. I’m sure that they know that we are in a hurry.”
They took two paces forward. Then, from around the corner where Merlin had disappeared moments before, came the familiar figure of an old friend:
“Anir!” cried Peter and Sarah at once, “we thought we might never see you again.”
Anir came quickly forward to greet them, his arms outstretched in welcome:
“This is good,” he said, as both gave him a bear hug, “it is good that we meet once again, excellent in fact!”
“We did miss you,” said Sarah as they followed Anir down the passageway to the Great Hall.
“Really?” Anir said quizzically.
One of his eyebrows shot up and he stared hard at them both. Peter blushed. A habit he had from his earliest infancy. Anir gave him the most piercing of gazes.
“I thought your family had been FAR too busy recently to think about Elves and their friends!”
He said this in a way that was not unfriendly, it was a matter of fact. Indeed, the family had been very busy over the last year and a half.
“It seems we need your assistance once more. That is, if you agree to what Gwyn-ap-Nudd has in mind. Come along quickly now,” said Anir, as they passed through the entrance of the Great Hall which was full of the residents of Arx Emain.
They saw Gwyn himself, sitting enthroned upon the dais and surrounded by the senior members of the Elf Kingdom, some of whom Peter and Sarah had got to know quite well. Ederyn was present, Aneryn and Morvith the Healer also. All three had been very helpful to the children during their last escapade.
“Welcome my friends, welcome once again to Arx Emain,” said Lord Gwyn, smiling and beckoning them forwards to the foot of the dais.
They stood there before all, feeling really rather embarrassed. The assembled company had obviously just finished their midday meal and Peter and Sarah felt all eyes upon them. Peter went bright red again. Merlin was standing to one side of Gwyn-ap-Nudd looking anxious.
“Now, I am sure you would like to know why you have been summoned,” the Lord Gwyn said to them solemnly.
“Yes please,” answered Peter and Sarah together.
“Sarah, you have brought The Ring, have you not?” Gwyn asked.
“Yes, just a minute,” she replied, holding up her rucksack.
She put the sack down on the floor and fumbled inside for the container that held the ring. Quickly she took the ring out and placed it on her right ring finger.
“Here it is,” she said, and pointed to the jewel, which gleamed and sparkled in the light of the many candles and lamps around the Hall.
“Very good,” said Gwyn, “now, you have already met Merlin who has brought you here today, have you not?”
This was a rhetorical question for he then went on to say:
“It is he who needs our help and yours in a most daring expedition. Will you hear what he has to say?”
Peter and Sarah willingly agreed. Two stools were brought for them to sit on. They placed their rucksacks on the floor nearby and all opened their ears to listen to what Merlin had to say.
“I have come through time, via the land of the Summer Stars, to see what help could be given us. By US, I mean Us Britons, and all who are faithful to Our Lord and Emperor, Arthur.”
“ WOW!” Peter could not help exclaiming out loud.
Was it not every boy’s dream to meet someone from the magic realm of Camelot, if not King Arthur himself?
“Arthur is but young as yet,” Merlin continued, “it is only a few years since he pulled the sword out of the stone, pacified the British tribal chiefs and established his reign. However, although we have been granted an interval of peace, and I am well aware,” Merlin looked sharply at the Lord Gwyn-ap-Nudd as he said this, “that it will be but a short interval. Young Arthur feels that he must put his Imperium over Britannia, and Little Britannia Over the Sea, entirely beyond the question of any doubt. So of course, when the Roman Proconsul arrived to demand that we pay tribute to Rome once more…”
“Rome?” gasped Sarah.
“Rome!” exclaimed Peter, for now they were both completely confused and utterly mystified.
When Merlin had begun to speak of King Arthur, visions of mediaeval ladies in pointed hats with their knights in shining armour began to ride about in Sarah’s head. Camelot, Sir Lancelot and the Round Table all shimmered in a magical haze. All these images promptly disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Peter was thinking:
“Rome, Ancient Rome! Now I know why Merlin looks so odd to us. Look at him, he is holding his cloak so that it drapes like a toga. I am sure I have seen pictures of Julius Caesar looking just like that!”
“Yes Rome!” replied Merlin. “Although many of our people are by this time almost more Roman than those who live in that city, it has been many, many years since we paid tribute. Indeed, we have not paid the Roman authorities any taxes or tribute, from the time that the Roman High-ups departed for Rome when the Empire began to be threatened by barbarians.
Now we Britons have had our troubles too. Invaders from the North Lands have pressed our peoples badly. To tell the truth, our leaders have often sent to Rome for help against our common enemies, but recently no help has been forthcoming. Can you see why Arthur is angry with Rome? All we Britons are very, very angry!”
Peter nudged Sarah:
“I can see why they are angry. I would be too,” he whispered.
Merlin cleared his throat:
“Well now, Hem, Hem! My opinion is that the present Emperor of the once proud and glorious Roman Empire,” Merlin looked his most scornful as he said this, “that is, Odovacer, who is a usurper, needs monies urgently. I fancy the tribute is required in order to fight off the armies of the Emperor in the East. Zeno has no love for upstarts and usurpers like Odovacer. It cannot be for battles with barbarians, they all seem to be with us in Britannia! As our chiefs wrote to Aetius years ago, when he was Consul for the third time:
“The barbarians drive us to the sea; the sea throws us back on the barbarians. Thus, two modes of death await us, we can either be slain or drowned!”
Thus have the Britons made known their groans to the Roman authorities for years uncountable and the Romans send us no help. Pah!”
Merlin made as if to spit upon the guilty, but un-present Romans.
“When we return from this campaign, the Lord Arthur will be strong enough, I hope, to give the Saxons a convincingly final defeat! Then we Britons will have peace and plenty once more, just as it was under the best of the Caesars.”
Gwyn-ap-Nudd nodded sympathetically.
“You have to understand, Peter and Sarah, that by the time the high-and-mighty ones went back to Rome in 410, THEY were the few. The Romans who were left behind stayed because they were Roman Britons. Many of the legionaries who came to conquer these Islands married British women and also, of course, there were the free people of these Islands who became Roman citizens and took on everything that the Romans had to offer. Much of it was very good. I know, I was there!”
Sarah jumped in her seat, for she had just been thinking: how does he know all that? Forgetting that being an Elf, Gwyn had seen many ages come and go.
Gwyn nodded his head, as if in answer to Sarah’s unspoken thought.
“Yes, the Romans were a civilising influence here for nearly five hundred years.”
Gwyn forbore to say that unfortunately, as even Peter and Sarah knew well, in the end the Saxons had indeed prevailed, thus paving the way for the rise of the English. Gwyn himself had not been overly sympathetic to the Saxon rulers, although he knew that even Alfred the Great had once dwelt in Rome and looked back to the Eternal City for inspiration.
“Gosh!” Sarah said, “that’s like us looking back to the time of Queen Elizabeth the first! That IS a long time for the Romans to be around. I never thought of it like that before.”
“But why do you need us?” Peter asked.
“Merlin needs the Ring that Anir gave to Sarah, the Ring of Concealment! We thought that possibly one of you… Peter perhaps? might like the honour of using it in the service of The Emperor Arthur,” replied Gwyn.
Questions flooded into Peter’s brain, the main one being, how was one transported back into the decline and fall of the Roman Empire? Gwyn-ap-Nudd’s answer came swiftly:
“Merlin wishes to make use of the power of the Gardar Stone to transport the Ring and one or other, or both of your good selves perhaps, to where Lord Arthur and his armies lie. They are far in time and far abroad, hoping shortly to engage in battle with the wretched Roman representative.”
“He is not Roman, actually,” Merlin said bitterly, “he is an Iberian.”
“That means he’s Spanish,” Peter whispered in Sarah’s ear.
“As I was saying,” Gwyn went on, “I believe that The Lord Arthur has refused, finally and most definitely, to pay this tribute. So, before the Emperor’s army comes to take it by force, he has decided to teach this upstart and his Proconsul a lesson. That is assuming that the Eastern Emperor Zeno, or his protégé Theodoric…”
Merlin nodded his confirmation.
“do not get to Odovacer first!”
“That is roughly correct,” agreed Merlin, “our spies tell us that Zeno’s associate, Theodoric, is already on his way to Rome. Arthur remains undecided at the moment as to whether he should join forces with him or not, two armies being greater than one. He may join up with him later on.
First things first! I need to find a small, discreet and preferably invisible spy for Arthur. We shall come to a point very shortly when we need some vital information, so that our forces can set up the ultimate battle plan. I have been thinking of the rings of concealment for some time. I know where one of them is, but the Lady Fair who has it will not give it up to me, not for all my best wheedling! There are others… whose whereabouts I do not know and cannot find out, and there is the oldest one of them all, the fabled Ring of Gyges.”
Peter and Sarah looked vacantly at Merlin. They had not heard of the name of Gyges in any tale, however ancient. The Lord Gwyn gazed on their wonderment and came to the rescue.
“The Ring of Gyges,” Gwyn began, “The Ring of Gyges was brought to Britain by strangers who came to join your ancient ancestors here; I forget how many millennia ago, one or two, at least, perhaps three, I cannot now remember exactly. They came from the East and gained possession of the Ring during their long, tedious and meandering journeys here from Troy. Legend has it that they took it by force from a thief. Before he died of his wounds, he told this story:
He had once been a slave in the court of the King of Lydia. The King had been very disturbed in his ways and became more so as time ran on. People at court wondered if he were not mad. The slave kept watch on him and discovered at length the secret of the Ring and also how he came by it. To his surprise the King in his ramblings disclosed that he also once had lowly beginnings, having been a shepherd in the service of the former King. One day, an earthquake had revealed an opening into a cave. Being of a curious nature, Gyges, for that was his name, entered the cave. Inside was a body, naked except for a ring. Thinking to enrich himself, Gyges stole the ring and left the cave directly. Passing among his fellow shepherds, Gyges soon discovered that if he turned the jewel in a certain way he became invisible. It was all a wonderful game, a huge joke to begin with. Then Gyges began to use the ring unwisely and with malice in his heart. Eventually he used it to kill the King, marry the Queen and take over the kingdom. I believe he was a very strong and successful ruler of Lydia after that and was famous for joining forces with the Egyptian Pharaoh to beat off the Babylonians.”
“And I heard he was a slimy, untrustworthy customer, always making alliances anywhere he could and then reneging on them,” rejoined Merlin.
“Be that as it may,” said the Lord Gwyn, “The Ring of Gyges was stolen from the King in its turn by this slave, who died rather than give it up. Then, it was given to one of the British Chieftains, a descendant of Auvandil himself, as a wedding gift on his marriage to the Princess of the strangers from Troy, the East, or wherever it was they came from.
When his time came and he died, all the British Chieftains came in delegation and brought the Ring to the Elves. We decided it must be used only for the good of Britain, as it seemed to have had such a bad history. Ederyn, myself and the Council could see that it was something very powerful, precious and special. It was given to The Guardian then, as only he was deemed to be worthy of keeping it through the many tests that go with that office and the Apprenticeship to it…”
The Lord Gwyn said this last sentence very loudly, as if to gain the attention of any whose attention had wandered!
Peter suddenly knew that Gwyn was looking right at him, through him, into his very soul almost. He felt that the Elf Lord was searching him, testing him, asking him something. What was it and why? It brought his heart up into his mouth up with a jolt.
While Gwyn had been speaking, Peter had been day dreaming about being one of the old chieftains; someone like the great Auvandil himself. Ever since the Elves’ war with Arddu, Peter had often fancied himself as a warrior; fighting the evil enemy, whoever that might be, with shield and sword. Images of battles played in his mind, in which he was naturally always the victor! Perhaps one wonderful, marvellous day he would be able to fight for the Elves like Anir did… perhaps he might even ask Anir to help him learn how to do so… perhaps, perhaps…
Then the Lord Gwyn’s probing had broken into his private reverie. Peter realised that Gwyn knew all that he was thinking. He felt extremely embarrassed and blushed as crimson as the tunic Ederyn was wearing. Something like an alarm bell rang in his brain. He knew his deepest, darkest secrets were laid bare before the Elf King. What did Gwyn want of him, Peter began to ask himself, but for the present, he did not have time to consider or reflect upon an answer.
The Elf king went on with his story as if nothing out of the ordinary had passed between them:
“Sometimes even yet, Anir, our present Guardian has the need to be invisible; which we Elves naturally have of right. After that time, The Guardians always kept the Ring safely hidden here at Arx Emain and handed it down to each of their successors through the ages. Thus and so, here it has stayed until recently,” Gwyn smiled at Sarah:
“Really, it is and should be, always in the keeping of The Guardian and ONLY The Guardian; though Anir has let you borrow it for the moment with our permission.”
Peter wondered why they had left the treasure with Sarah for so long. Then he asked:
“But why couldn’t Merlin ask you for the Ring in Roman times?” he asked suddenly.
“Because Gwyn back in the Roman times does not have the Ring of Gyges. The Guardian of the time has it and he is away on some very important business that cannot be disturbed. Gwyn says we cannot get it then. Perhaps the Guardian needs it himself. Anyway in my time, after the Roman authorities had gone completely, the Elves shut themselves up in their palaces and left mankind to fight their own battles, in the main.”
Merlin frowned furiously and clicked his tongue impatiently.
“That is not entirely true,” Gwyn broke in, “one of my own kinsmen joined Arthur’s great adventure in Gaul and he was killed. Also, do not forget, Merlin, that I was one who was foremost in the hunting of the great boar.”
“Hmm, yes, EVENTUALLY!” said Merlin, insinuating that not a little persuasion had been required!
“But how is it,” insisted Peter, “that you are able to get help in the future, won’t it change what goes on in the past?”
“Not at all,” Merlin smiled, “why, I am engaged upon the Past, Present and Future Business all the time. Now little people, will you not tell me what you would like to do? Will you come with Merlin? You will at least lend me the Ring, I am sure of that.”
Sarah looked at the Ring. She knew it really belonged to Anir? But was it so important? She knew it must be if the Elves said so, but she could hardly believe it. It did not look that special. In her own heart she was still not awfully sure that she wanted to go, nor did she want to let Peter go either. It all sounded rather too scary. Then she took a long look right around the Great Hall and the bright company of Elves seated round the tables. They were all dressed most elegantly in the brightest colours, dazzling crimsons and heavenly blues. Everyone seemed to be waiting for her to speak. Even Peter was looking at her expectantly. He would definitely want to go, Sarah knew that much! At length she said in a very small voice:
“ Could Peter and I talk it over, just for a few minutes, please?”
“But of course,” replied the Lord Gwyn, getting up from his throne, “you may go to the Room of the Gardar Stone if you wish,” and he waved them away.
Peter and Sarah got up from the stools and picked up the rucksacks. They bowed solemnly to Gwyn and to Merlin. The occasion seemed to demand some kind of obeisance. Then they walked with as much dignity as they could muster and as quickly as they dared, out of the Hall. The noise of many chattering voices rose like an ocean wave behind them, then fell silent as the two children ran down the corridor and into the room of the Stone of Gardar.
Sarah and Peter passed through the huge wooden doors, which were carved from top to bottom with every kind of beast, real and mythological. Unicorns stood next to lions and dragons next to squirrels and butterflies. Both of them felt the atmosphere of the room gather them into itself. It was such a peaceful place. Within its niche the Stone of Gardar glowed with a pale green light, revealing the stone pillars round the room and the dais and throne of Gwyn-ap-Nudd. Everywhere gleamed gold, the light of pure Welsh gold. Sarah dropped her rucksack on the floor. Peter followed suit and once more they found themselves sitting on the dais and wondering what on earth, or under it, to do next!
“We’ve simply got to go, haven’t we,” began Peter excitedly.
“Well, I’m none too sure,” Sarah replied, desperately searching for an excuse not to take part in the mad sounding mission, “Sounds to me like cheating.”
“What does?”
“Using the Ring of Concealment to beat this Roman guy.”
“Whose side are you on!” Peter retorted, angrily.
“The right side, King Arthur’s side of course, silly! I’m sure that Merlin and Arthur are quite right not to pay the tribute. I just wonder if invisible spies are perhaps not quite cricket.”
“Not quite cricket!” Peter repeated incredulously, “not quite cricket! Really Sarah, I wonder about you sometimes. Arthur is fighting a war, a war that must be won…”
His voice lowered:
“Yes, that’s it, Arthur has to win this war, or the course of history will be changed.”
“Are you sure of that, Peter? After all, walloping Romans isn’t in any of the books that I’ve read about King Arthur.”
“No, nor I, but perhaps we have been reading the wrong books.”
Peter frowned and was silent for a moment. Sarah waited, for she knew that he was thinking. Suddenly, Peter smiled.
“I’ve got it!” he said.
“What?”
“Why King Arthur isn’t in the right time in all our books.”
“What do you mean? What are you wittering on about Peter?”
“The reason why Arthur isn’t written about at all until so much later and why they put him in the wrong time entirely!”
“Why then?”
“Well, Sarah,” said Peter, looking at her very seriously, “if you were a Saxon Monk, writing the history of Saxon kings… would you write about Arthur and sing the praises of their WORST enemy? No, I think not! You probably wouldn’t even mention him. In fact, you probably wouldn’t be allowed to mention him! You’d probably get your head cut off if you did. I bet that’s what happened… and it went on like that for hundreds of years, until the Saxon kings were gone and the Vikings too.
Then the stories about Arthur seeped back into England from the Britons in France who, with the Britons here in the furthest west, had kept his memory alive. The French troubadours must have got hold of the old stories and sung them in the courts of the Normans. Only then would it have been safe to praise the name of Arthur again. Yeah, I bet that’s just what happened. The Normans would have enjoyed a link to Arthur, Scourge of the Saxons! They would want to be associated with Arthur as that would strengthen their claim to the British Kingdom; especially as they were not Britons or Bretons at all, but originally Norsemen! I wonder when the stories reappear? I must check that out when we get home.”
“Maybe,” said Sarah, nodding her head, “it’s a nice theory, but it doesn’t change my opinion, which is: that we should give the jolly old Ring to jolly old Merlin, or back to Anir perhaps and let him get on with it!”
“Well, suppose, just suppose,” Peter said passionately, sounding extremely annoyed, “that maybe, just maybe, I might like to go and meet King Arthur! And I can tell you right now, Sis, that I would!”
“Oh, come on, Bro. How can you, we, go and do that? It would take days, even months perhaps. It would be much worse than last time and probably more dangerous. I can’t see how you can consider it, what with Gran so ill and Mum away.”
The mention of Mother brought Peter back to reality.
“Sorry, Sis, but it would be rather fine, wouldn’t it,” he begged, “to meet King Arthur.”
He said this last rather wistfully, pleading at Sarah with his eyes. Sarah was not to be put off.
“I’m not going to be an invisible spy for anyone.”
“Well nobody said it had to be you, in fact, I think that Gwyn was telling us just now that it ought to be me!”
Peter was on the attack again. Sarah was just thinking up something really biting to round off her argument, when Anir suddenly came into the Golden Room.
“Hello,” he said, “come to a decision have you?”
“No,” said Peter at once.
“Yes,” said Sarah, a millisecond later, “I am afraid, Anir, that we will have to say no, to Mr. Merlin’s offer of a visit to King Arthur but he can have the Ring. Why don’t you take it now, after all Anir, it is yours.”
“If it belongs to anyone… and I can tell you now, I have used it many times in my work as Guardian. However, I have not used it much these last few years, hardly at all in fact. I leave it with Gwyn more often than not. It is not necessary for me to have it at present, that is why I loaned it to you Sarah. I knew that it would be in safe hands, for you are brave and innocent in heart and mind.”
Sarah smiled at the compliment. Anir watched as Peter frowned, he could imagine what the boy was thinking. He and Gwyn had both had their eyes on him for some time.
“Your turn will come Peter… and perhaps sooner than you think! Keep the Ring for now between the both of you and take your time to decide what to do. Your choice must be a free and clear one. Come both of you, we must return to the Great Hall. You do not have time for a long visit today and Merlin would like some kind of answer, even if it is only half an answer.”
Peter and Sarah grabbed their rucksacks and ran out of the Golden Room of the Stone with Anir following them. When they entered the Great Hall, they found that nearly all the Elves had left. Those who were left upon the dais were: Gwyn, Ederyn, Merlin and Aneryn. Echel, the Master Armourer of the Elves, was there also; standing just to one side of Ederyn.
“I’m glad that Aneryn is there,” thought Sarah, “I wonder if we can have some time to talk with her?”
But there was no time to wonder more because she and Peter had arrived at the foot of the dais and were being inspected by those upon the top of it.
“So, you were unable to decide,” said Gwyn, looking deep into Sarah’s eyes, “to stay, or to go… to take part, or not, these are difficult questions.”
“Yes, er well, perhaps,” Sarah muttered, feeling confused.
“I wish you’d make your mind up!” Peter hissed, as he gave her a hard dig in the ribs, “I want to go.”
“Lord Gwyn, I really don’t know what to do,” said Sarah, “Merlin can have the Ring, of course he can, though I don’t want to be a spy and wear it myself. Just the same, I would quite like to meet King Arthur, and I know Peter would too.”
Peter blushed a very nice beetroot colour. It was true! Almost more than anything else right now, he wanted to see the legendary King. Besides, the thought of actually joining in one of King (or was it Emperor) Arthur’s adventures, even if it did not appear in any of the usual books, was irresistible!
“But,” Sarah continued, “how long would it take to get there and how long to come back? How much time would we have to spend there, and really, what I am trying to say is; how can we go without worrying our family?”
Merlin stepped forwards immediately to explain:
“My dear Sarah I, and all who support The Lord Arthur’s worthy cause, thank you for your most generous offer of the Ring. Within the rules of magic, these things have to be given up willingly! If you really do want to come back with me and meet the Emperor, why certainly you may! It is most simple, I assure you.”
Merlin looked sideways at Gwyn, as if seeking approval for what he was about to say. Gwyn nodded twice and Merlin continued with his explanation.
“How do you think I arrived here? Eh, Eh! I came through the power of the Gardar Stone of course.”
Merlin almost jumped up and down with the excitement of it. “I had discussed the power of the Stone with Gwyn many, many years before. He had told me about it because the Elves had lost it and wanted me to help them find it once again. We had all wandered up and down the Prescelly Mountains; up and down, up and down. The Elves had not found it, nor I, nor the Guardian. Then I required the Ring of Concealment in a hurry. How to come by it?”
“Why don’t you look for the Stone in St. David’s, where I found it?” Peter asked, interrupting the Wizard in full flow.
Gwyn answered him:
“Because my dear Peter, in Merlin’s day, for some reason it is not yet there yet. Continue I pray, Merlin please.”
“Where was I? Oh yes, I had the most splendid idea. You see, the power of the true magician lies in pure illusion.”
Here Merlin put his right hand behind his back and brought out a beautiful bunch of snowdrops and gave it to Sarah.
“Wow, gosh!” gasped Sarah, as she took the flowers.
“Cool!” said Peter, as the flowers turned themselves into butterflies and fluttered about his head.
“Perhaps, I thought, somewhere in the future the Stone is found. If I could only feel the power of it, I might join my power to that power. Thus and so; I returned to that dark place, Foel Drygarn. It is deserted again. Any who were living there when the Romans came, had fled long ago. Now most people feel that there is no point returning there, unless they seek The Power. I made my enquiries and when I had discovered the right time and the right words, I made my preparations.”
“What did you do?” Peter interrupted again. Merlin rewarded him with the broadest of grins.
“I managed to reproduce the Way of Light that leads to the Summer Stars and out again. For an instant I stood before those Bright Beings who hold almost the chiefest powers. I told them of my plight and that I needed the Stone of Gardar to get the Ring. Then in another instant I found myself in the Golden Room of the Stone. Quite an achievement, don’t you think?”
Gwyn-ap-Nudd laughed out loud, stamped his foot and thumped the arm of the throne with his fist.
“Ha!” he said, and “Ha!” again. “Merlin is being far too modest my friends. This is not the first time he has attempted such a thing and succeeded. He is a very powerful magician indeed! But he likes people to think that he is the sort that entertains at court with the jester, pulling rabbits out of hats. Watch him carefully, Peter and Sarah, you will see him do much more than that. My heart tells me too that you will see him at work many times and that you will go to the camp of the Emperor.”
“But how long will we have to be there?” Sarah persisted.
“As far as time goes, your time that is, you might be there and back in the twinkling of an eye. In fact, I doubt if any in our camp have missed me for an hour, yet I have been here three days at least.”
“Well,” said Peter, “we know that the Stone works in our time, we have seen it work. It worked on Mum and Dad, that time. What we don’t know is, if it works properly in your time. I think Sarah needs just a little more time to think about it all.”
Kind brother that he was, he said this in an attempt to allay Sarah’s fears.
“Yes,” Sarah added, “we don’t want to get stuck in Hyperspace.”
“Very well Peter,” said Merlin, “you may have a week to think it all over. After that I shall take the Ring of Concealment and not trouble you further. Thereafter it shall be returned to the Guardian, who may accompany me himself, if he wishes.”
Merlin bowed to Anir, who made a deep bow in return.
“I most certainly and quite definitely, am persuaded to come with you,” smiled The Guardian.
He could not resist the thought of meeting King Arthur either!
Merlin continued:
“When you return, I will prove to you that you will be able to come and go as easily as you do on all your strange modern modes of transport.”
“How is that?” asked Sarah.
“I shall return to camp. Then, when you come next week, I promise that I will bring you something that belongs to Arthur.”
He bowed then to Sarah and then to Peter, thus completing his part of the discussion.
“One week at the most,” said Gwyn firmly, giving Peter a very odd look, “and then we shall expect your speedy return. Now you must leave us. You must not be late home.”
Aneryn came down from the dais and Ederyn also. Peter and Sarah were greeted most warmly and many words were said, indicating that all were sorry that the two children could not stay longer. Then Anir and Merlin led them out of the Hall, down the corridor, but not to the front door as they were expecting. They went instead to the room of the Stone of Gardar.
“Now you will see and experience something of Merlin’s magic,” said Anir, “farewell until this time a week hence. Do not fail us and especially not you, Peter.”
Anir said this with yet another of those funny looks! What could he and Gwyn-ap-Nudd be up to? What was it they wanted from him?
Peter and Sarah watched as Merlin drew a triangle in the air with his staff. He was standing almost directly in front of the Stone. Its green light flickered and grew stronger. Almost instantaneously they felt themselves sucked towards the Stone which appeared to have grown. They were surrounded by bright light for just a few seconds, then felt the wind blow on their faces and a few spots of drizzle. They were outside Arx Emain and back at the bus stop.