The news of Arthur's victory at Badon and his fame brought many people from distant lands to see him for themselves. First to arrive was Muirchetach mac Erca himself, a king in the north of Ireland and, we were told, not least by him, the helmsman who would steer the Irish to glory. With him came a roisterous crowd, not a few being priests and bards who drank no less than his warriors. Arthur received him most hospitably in Aquae Sulis in a frame of mind compounded of amusement and irritation, for even as mac Erca was paying his friendly visit to the great victor, other Britons were having to cope with a stream of Irishmen looking for land - not always peacefully. Naturally Arthur enquired whether it was the intention of the Irish to take Britain over. "For surely mac Erca, you Irish are putting us in great difficulty," he said. "What with the Saxons on the east and you on the west, no wonder so many Britons have been squeezed out of their own land and gone off to Armorica. Now if this goes on I might have to come over to Ireland again to repeat the lesson Lasanleawg and I gave to your people. Would they like to lose some more of their treasure?" This conversation occurred in the Baths to which mac Erca had taken a great fancy.
"And a terrible thing that was, noble Ard Ri," said mac Erca, addressing Arthur as High King in Irish. "Terrible indeed. Yourself raiding Ireland. No. We don't want any more of that, no not at all. The Irish only want Irishmen in their own lovely green land."
"But we feel the same about Britain," Arthur persisted.
"Well, yes. I could see that you might," mac Erca said dubiously. "But let's be fair though; Britain's a much bigger land than the five realms of Ireland and you wouldn't grudge us a bit of poor farmland that you're not using would you? Why! Our lovely Irish boys only come in peace nowadays - to help you open up the country."
"By stealing good land in the west mac Erca, and driving out poor British farmers and seizing their women."
"Now did they now? And a terrible thing that is. The poor women. Are you sure that it's not just a few of our lads getting too much British mead and having a bit of fun Arthur?"
"What a fool I am now," said Arthur. "And me, not able to think of such a thing." His voice changed abruptly to ice. "Now see here mac Erca, I'm willing to drink and sing and play with any Irishman that comes over here. No, we don't mind them living among us, for as far as I'm concerned all the people in both our islands are brothers and should be as one. But if they give me their shit, I'll burn their bare arses with fire." So ended that elegant diplomatic exchange. Mac Erca returned to Ireland having found out what he had come to learn: Arthur would contain the Irish menace.
Other visitors came to ask for help in their own struggles. One such was a Visigothic nobleman called Theodric, sent by the King of the Visigoths. Arthur found him the easiest of the visitors to deal with. For one thing he spoke excellent Latin and for another he was a man of great personal charm and also a brave warrior. With him one could talk about the world in broad terms and with common sense.
At that time the Visigoths were threatened in Gaul by the rising power of Clovis the Frank. Knowing that Arthur had once gone to Gaul with the Riotamus to fight for Rome against the Visigoths, Theodric emphasised his master's present friendship for the Emperor. However, as Arthur was reluctant to offend the real arbiter of the West, the Ostrogothic King of Italy, who was doing his best to maintain the balance between the Visigoths and the Franks, he had no intention of taking sides. But another reason for his caution was that whoever became supreme in Gaul, the British states of Armorica would have to treat with the winner, whether Frank or Visigoth. And so he made it clear to Theodric that though he would always be ready to help the Armorican rulers, as they had helped him, the present state of Britain made any other involvement in Gaul impossible. He took care to ensure that Clovis should learn of this reply through his arrogant envoy Odvar, who was then at Aquae Sulis.
Theodric, meanwhile, showed no inclination to return to the Visigothic court. He sent one of his officers with Arthur's message and, being well provided with ships, also offered me the use of his couriers to bear letters for transmission to Constantinople. He then settled down in Britain largely because I had foolhardily gone on insisting, despite Myrddin's warning, to all who would listen to me, that with Arthur's victory a golden age was dawning in our land. Yet I was not alone in this enthusiasm for it had seized everyone at Arthur's court as well as the citizens of Aquae Sulis. Renewal was in the air and I was intent on being part of it. By the time the first flowers were beginning to poke through the earth and the buds were waiting to burst into delicate green leaves, though my wound had left me with my limp, I was able to mount a horse and ride again. With spring too the tyrants began to return from their own states, among the foremost and to everyone's surprise, Dyfnwal himself from Alclud. The rogue was anxious to explain that his recent establishment of ascendancy over his neighbours the Votadini was no sign of ambition on his part. "Och, I'm a man of peace Arthur but we need to be strong up there just now - to defend Britain from the randy Picts. They're getting restive. And I may need your help." Arthur acquiesced in what Dyfnwal had done; at least his approval had been sought, which would not have happened before Badon. And maybe it was Badon that had brought back so many of the tyrants. Not all of them are central to my drama though they could be regarded as a kind of chorus in it - the Rulers of the Britons. Their commentary on events was not as detached or sublime as that of a chorus of Aeschylus, yet in time it became every bit as doom laden.
Now if Britain were to be renewed, her men of learning, few though they were, constituted a resource which should be called upon., And so Gwenhwyvar was asked by Arthur to rally them to his cause. One sparkling day therefore, when the white crested waves were dancing in the sunlight, Gwenhwyvar and I set sail in Arthur's ship Prydwen on the wide Severn estuary to visit the school of the great Eltutus, the refined master of all Britain as people called him.
How swiftly Prydwen and its two attendant craft skimmed over the water, so full of importance with their square sails billowing above, braided in yellow and white though, on Prydwen, emerald green emblazoned with Arthur's Red Dragon. We lolled in the stern on cushions and soft skins; our pretty servant girls, dressed in white and blue with wreaths of spring flowers twined in their hair, could have enticed a cohort of learned men from their cells. Some served us wine and others sang more delightfully than any old bard; their voices hovered over the water, the song on one ship being taken up on the others. And all around the sea birds swooped and dived, jealous that they could not join in. Soon the coast behind us was a thin line and ahead we could see rising hills, all green and fresh and beyond them, distantly, higher ranges mysterious and purple in the bright sunlight.
How splendid to be alone with Gwenhwyvar again and for a few days too. I was in the midst of asserting that in a civilised society every husband should be able to get away from his wife and every wife from her husband like this from time to time when Gwenhwyvar said, "Oh stop burbling on like that Cadfan. What's the real reason you didn't bring Angharad with us?" .
"She's still shy," I lied. "And she prefers to stay at home." Better to say that than reveal that Angharad resented Gwenhwyvar's constant efforts to involve her and the other noble women of Aquae Sulis in Christian piety.
"She says so because home is where you want her to be while you roam freely - with Conyn maybe, now he's back in your favour or you in his. Whichever it is. Everyone's wondering."
By now, I had fallen into the error of treating her shrewd jibes about Conyn as a harmless quirk of her character so I gave an extended yawn before replying, "Gwen, I married Angharad to please you. And now, despite you, despite myself, I've truly grown to love her. That's the truth. As for Conyn, he's working very hard, helping Angharad to run my estate. There's a lot to be done on the land at this time of the year you know."
"But not by the likes of Cadfan who prefers having a good time, or discussing Arthur's future, Arthur's present, and Arthur's past - or moping around me like a lovesick fool." She paused. "Are you still moping?"
"I had the impression you half like it. Anyway, what's wrong with having a good time?"
"Half like it. What nonsense! I do like it. But not the idea of you doing something foolish - and my joining in. We're not on earth just to have a good time. You see, Cadfan, the Holy Scriptures tell us that -"
But I was having none of that to spoil my sunny day, so I cut in, "Are you happy now?" I spoke quietly for the servants were no longer singing. "Are you happier now with Arthur?"
She turned so that she was looking at the wake and only myself and a seagull hovering behind Prydwen heard her say. "Who wouldn't be happy to be the consort of the greatest man in Britain?"
"Gwenhwyvar," I said sweetly. "If her mind was on someone else." Foolishly, but because no one could see me I ran my fingers very lightly along the inside of her thigh. She glared crossly at me but then glanced seaward leaving me with the sight of her profile and one side of her mouth which was drooping, whether with anger or sadness who could say? She said contemptuously, "Outwardly you're a strong man Cadfan, but inside I see a mere boy, a spring flower - too soft for me. Didn't I tell you so? Lasanleawg is- Lasanleawg was a rose, dark and heavy, a hard thorn that most delighted when it pierced me."
I left her at once, went to the bow and stood there letting the salt spray cool me. After a while the wind dropped and the sail grew limp; no more white horses darted over the water and in their place very slowly from far far out in the western ocean there came the echo of a deep swell, up and down, up and down, raising us and lowering us as though insistent that for a while our motion should be vertical rather than over the sea towards Lan Illtud and its men of learning. When I had more or less calmed down I went aft to Gwenhwyvar who was sitting at a low table spread with delicious food. A cauldron was bubbling on a stone hearth; the smell of the broth almost banished my gloom.
"There you are Cadfan. I thought you'd fallen overboard and got swallowed by a great fish." She gave me a radiant smile which at one and the same time said, 'I'm not at all sorry but let's not quarrel.'
"Like your absurd Jonah," I said crossly.
"Would you like some broth?"
"You shouldn't have such a big fire on board ship."
"So you don't want any broth."
"Of course I do. I'm hungry. And I'm cold."
"Then a little fire won't do you any harm will it?" She ladled some broth into a silver bowl.
"You shouldn't use a bowl like that for broth."
"Oh just take it and drink it and shut up. Should do this. Shouldn't do that. Perhaps that's why Angharad doesn't come out with you. Probably glad to see the back of you for a while I'd say. Anyway, they tell me I'm an Empress now. Or almost. So if I want to use a silver bowl to piss in I can. Or shouldn't I say that?" She looked at me with raised brows, her eyes fairly laughing at me. I picked up the bowl and sucked the broth down, making the loudest and rudest noise possible, then belched like thunder. We caught one another's eyes and burst out laughing.
"You don't think this old Eltutus is going to be of any use?" I said. "He probably runs a school for ignoramuses who can just read enough to mouth the Lord's Prayer."
"More than likely Cadfan. No one in Britain can compare with you in learning can they? Anyway, why don't you open a school? Oh I forgot, educated Greek gentlemen don't learn anything useful. Only philosophy and how to calculate how big the sun is."
"Well then," I answered. "Let's open a school together. We could call it Gwenhwyvar's school because you'd be its director. But I'd only take part if no Christian studies were allowed. I believe in real knowledge. Yes, I shall open a school. Without you. I've got enough books. Give me a few clever British boys and I'll turn Britain into a new Athens."
"You'll do nothing, nothing at all," Gwenhwyvar said lightly. "Just carry on talking. You do love talking don't you Cadfan? I can imagine you of an evening with a lot of Greeks reclining on couches with your wine glasses and on and on the talk goes. Blather, blather, blather."
"Sometimes I'd rather be drinking wine with Greeks than spending the whole evening in the mead hall getting drunk as a fish and having to listen to one of those bleating, boasting bards." I seized a leg of mutton from the basket.
"Poor Cadfan. Life among the savages. If Arthur had been killed at Badon would you have taken me back to Alexandria?"
"No. You'd have disgraced me." I went on eating and then said, "Of course I would Gwen. And well you know it. But it wasn't to be. Arthur's an immortal. Old Lailoken said so. How does it feel to know you're going to pass into legend?" I became a story teller. "And so it was in ancient times, as the great Queen Gwenhwyvar passed through the land, all men that saw her marvelled and said, 'Lo. Behold the wondrous Lady who can never die for she is the consort of Arthur the Emperor and god.' How do you feel about spending the rest of time with the great Arthur? Your deepest love, despite all you say."
She froze. Her eyes were as cold as ice upon me. When she put her food down I saw that her hands were not steady. "Will you never stop plagueing me? Blind Cadfan? And can't you see who is your own deepest love? You are the one who should spend the rest of time with Arthur. Not me. Now let me sleep."
Disconsolately I watched the girls going about their tasks, the sailors heaving on the ropes, and then the girls glancing at the sailors and the sailors looking ever more boldly at the girls they fancied, and all the time I felt more and more apart from them and from the world. It was like reading a book and being only half interested in it. All of a sudden a shout reached us from the shore we were approaching. The crowd of people there must be from Eltutus' school. A girl went to wake up Gwenhwyvar.
She was quite recovered and gave me a loving smile, so genuine, it seemed, that at once my spirits recovered and I stood by her chatting away as Prydwen drew near to the landing stage which was a solid raft of logs. The mass of faces began to turn into individuals - scholarly gentlemen in Roman robes and younger men, ranging, as students do, from the hefty and hearty to the thin and intense. Quite unexpectedly Gwenhwyvar said, "By the way, guess who's coming to Aquae Sulis. Lasanleawg's son, Galerius. About your age he is. No, younger. They say he's like his father. A dark rose. Dark yet radiant."
It was like being struck on the head. I was quite unable to take in the people in front of me. Stupidly I repeated "Galerius."
"Well, Gwalchaved if you want. Yet he's no hawk of summer to me. I want him not as a warrior but to keep my sorrow alive, for I live in that sorrow. And so I shall call him Galaved - the sorrow of summer, the summer rose that must die."
I should have ignored all this nonsense. How could I? As Gwenhwyvar stepped onto the raft I blurted out, "Whatever form of vegetation he takes, I hope for your sake he's got one of the attributes of a cucumber."
"Cucumbers my Lord?" A courteous voice said gently in my ear in Latin as pure as was ever spoken in the days of Cicero. "We've tried them in our kitchen garden but it's no good. Would you like to see what we're growing there?" The student retreated under my angry glare.
Once ashore we were greeted by our priestly hosts headed by the famous Eltutus or, as the Britons called him, Illtud. He was a small man of advanced years and his manners and speech were reminders of a more civilized age. To judge by his conversation, he was both learned and practical. And for the first time I now came face to face with the priest Dubricius whom I remembered, all too clearly, at Arthur's triumph. When still young he had been made bishop of Ariconium, thanks to his drive and saintliness, so we were told. He was extremely sure of himself and something of a dictator - the students around us went in awe of him, unlike their attitude towards Illtud. He attached himself proprietorially to Gwenhwyvar and before long was talking of her imperial connections and of all the other important people with whom, it seemed, he was on far more than nodding terms.
The school, which was a little way inland, was simply built around Illtud's old family villa and must be reckoned, considering the sad state of Britain, an extraordinary achievement. The genius behind it was Illtud; his the energy, the ideas, the enthusiasm transmitted to the students who were encouraged to speak Latin all day long, even at play. The books used were religious though supplemented by Virgil, Cicero, Caesar and a few recent writers among whom, I regret to say, was Prudentius - I cannot abide writers who sanctimoniously repent of the lewdness of their youth when age makes them no longer capable of it. In addition to the normal items of a school curriculum there were some quite unusual ones. When the boys had finished rhetoric, they worked in the fields; when they had been at their music lessons, they learned to smelt metal using a small furnace; when grammar was finished, woodwork started. "We need more practical classes," we could teach them to make jewelry and-" On and on Illtud went while Dubricius nodded encouragement as though the refined master was a clever performing dog.
"And what's the objective of it all?" asked Gwenhwyvar. "You're men of God. How does your teaching measure up to that important fact?"
We were in the old villa now, seated in Dubricius' room which was more comfortable than Illtud's cell. Startlingly enough another Dubricius emerged when he replied seriously, "The objective Augusta is to educate young men to love God and to do his work, whatever the hardship. The sons of the rulers and lords will do so in their proper place in society. The sons of the lowly, on the other hand, must be prepared to go alone into the poorest homesteads, especially those where the hellish idols still reign, and set up the Cross of Christ. Every Briton in our island must be brought to repentance. Like the Children of Israel made to wander in the Wilderness so will the Britons emerge into the beauty of the Promised Land. That Augusta is what our students are being trained for."
"Could they work for Lord Arthur - I mean as Prefects and Magistrates?" At least there was a tone of caution in her voice.
"My Lady," asserted Dubricius. "Whatever duties are given by Lord Arthur to the Church, she will undertake them, provided they accord with God's law. Didn't the Blessed Germanus lead British soldiers in war? Why, priests have undertaken civic duties ever since Restitutus was bishop in London."
"That's what I wanted to hear," said Gwenhwyvar with a sudden burst of enthusiasm as though she had banished any lingering qualms over the wisdom of the country passing into ecclesiastical hands.
Illtud had contented himself with nodding while all this was going on. He was a teacher rather than a proselytiser, a seeker of truth rather than a stern judge. His attitude appealed to me, though not perhaps to his students who, not surprisingly, liked to pass judgment on others rather than on themselves and on the novelties of thought to which they had become addicted. It is thus the world over:in Alexandria how often do we see the young carried away by some singer, mouthing platitudes about life and love; just dare to suggest that the silenced playwrights of the past plumb the anguish of the human soul more thoroughly than that prancing goat on the stage and they will look at you as though you are mad. Something of this was afoot in Illtud's school. Though they imbibed the teaching of Illtud there was a narrowness about the student's knowledge that was disturbing. Dubricius was not their teacher, yet it was the drama of his call for repentance that excited them. In Cicero and Caesar they had been exposed to the working of enquiring minds yet it was the rhapsodic certainty of the scriptures that they preferred.
Illtud introduced me to an older group of students as a citizen of a great Greek city. At this, slight sneers were to be seen on a few of the faces in front of me. When Illtud went on to remark that Alexandria still stood, in all its splendour, the sneers changed to expressions of concern. A wiry young man, inappropriately named Samson, got up and said, "Surely my Lord, not the temples of the idols, the devils?"
"The temples are closed," I replied coldly. "And one, the Serepeum, a masterpiece of art, was destroyed by the Christians - together with much of the Library and most of the lecture halls." The students looked relieved.
"This Library? Exactly what is it?" Samson persisted.
"It is, sorry, it was, a repository of all the knowledge in the world. But part remains and not only can you study in it, there are rooms in which observations have been made of the phenomena around us. Men have made maps based on information brought back by travellers. Scholars have measured the size of the earth. And the cadavers of animals - and formerly even of men - have been dissected there." My words were drowned in a cry of horror from all and sundry. It decided me to press on. "Well then, if you didn't like medicine, you could study light. What happens to a sun ray when it strikes a mirror? You can only find out by taking a mirror and observing the-"
"What use is it?" "What for?" "Why?" came the shouts.
"Good." Without thinking I had assumed Clodius' didactic manner. "For example, in Alexandria there's a huge tower with a beacon on the top, visible thirty miles out at sea because mirrors are used to throw the light far away. It could only be made because men have studied light and-"
"What good are maps my Lord?" interrupted a slowcoach.
"They help men to navigate over great distances. From Egypt men sail to India and beyond with the help of maps."
"My Lord." It was Samson again. "If it's God's will that a sailor should perish in a storm, by what right do the men of Alexandria try to save him with devilish lights? If it"s God's will that a man should be blown - as our holy men are blown - by the wind God sends, even to the ends of the earth, by what right do men use maps to go in the other direction? With respect, aren't the people of your city living in sin and blasphemy?"
"My friend," I replied, "perhaps it's God's will that we should use our minds to find out about the world He made. After all, God gave us our minds, didn't He? And He put us in His world to live."
"He gave us minds so we might understand His revealed word in the scriptures. All the knowledge it's seemly for man to know is contained in them." There was a distinct glint of triumph in Samson's eyes.
"Then why do you put cow shit and ashes on your vegetables? The Lord made them small but you're trying to make them big." My tone was now abrasive. "You might be in danger of hell fire when you sink your teeth into them."
Dubricius coughed loudly, "Thank you Lord Catumandus for talking to the students and answering their questions." He added softly, "You know, many of them are only simple people," but I noticed a far from friendly gleam in his small eyes. The thought of the noble Hypatia torn to shreds by the tile wielding monks of Alexandria came into my mind.
Gwenhwyvar had smiled sweetly at me while I crossed swords with the students and I felt pleased with myself; my words had apparently got through to her, even if elsewhere they had fallen on stony ground. However, no sooner were we in the orchard and a little apart from our hosts than she rounded on me. "So brilliant aren't we. All the knowledge in the world from our great Library; travelled from one end of the world to the other; been to great cities. And what's it all used for? Nothing. Except tongue lashing a handful of inexperienced boys. Open a school? You? Aren't we condescending. It's a temple you should open - to yourself. Anyone who came to it would be welcome - provided they bowed down and worshipped clever Cadfan. Well, I tell you; the things they teach here are a hundred times more useful than all your knowledge because they're based on humility - the humility of Christ, Cadfan." She left me standing under the canopy of blossom and stalked off. Why follow her? She knew what I had said was justified. Yet she was committed now to the new way of thought and was going to advance it. My anger subsided only to be replaced by misery. Whatever my affection for her, I was not prepared to subordinate my own convictions.
No need to say more about our remaining days at the school. What should have been pleasure became too nasty to remember. A gap yawned between Gwenhwyvar and myself. Though I tried to bridge it, she would not let me. She even took to calling me Llacheu - the students' nickname for me. It could mean 'the lasher' or 'the brilliant one'; either way I hated it - especially on her lips. It was good to be back in Aquae Sulis.