" 'What business can you have with me that the toe of my boot cannot discharge?'

" 'It is a reasonable request,' replied the ragged man, 'and one you can easily grant if you will: one small bag of food. I ask only from want.'

" 'You shall have it," replied Gwawl haughtily. And he spied a small leather bag at Rhiannon's Belt and s.n.a.t.c.hed it up. 'Here is the bag,' he laughed, 'fill it as you will.'

"Pwyll took the bag and began filling it. But no matter how much he put into the bag it grew no more full than before. Gwawl signaled impatiently to his servers, who arose and began stuffing food into the little bag, but it remained just as empty.

" 'Beggar, will your bag never be full?' asked Gwawl angrily.

" 'Never, until a lord rises up and tramples it down and cries, "Enough!" '

" 'Do it, Gwawl, and you will be finished with this business,' said Rhiannon.

" 'Gladly, if it will rid me of him.' Gwawl rose up and put his feet into the bag, and the beggar twisted it so that Gwawl fell head over heels into the bag, then closed it and tied the strings. Then from beneath his rags he produced a horn which he blew. Instantly the hall was filled with a fierce warband. The beggar threw off his rags and there stood Pwyll Pen Annwfn.

" 'Help me!' cried the man in the bag. 'What is this game you are playing?'

" 'The game of badger-in-the-bag,' answered Pwyll, whereupon his men began striking the bag with kicks and blows.

" 'Lord,' said Gwawl, 'if you would listen to me, killing me inside this bag is no death for me.'

"Hyfiadd Hen stepped forward much chagrined and said, 'He speaks the truth, lord; killing him inside a bag is no death for a man. Listen to him.'

" 'I am listening,' said Pwyll.

" 'Then allow me to sue for peace,' said Gwawl. 'State your terms and I will agree.'

" 'Very well, pledge to me that there shall never be redress nor vengeance for what has befallen you and your punishment shall end.'

" 'You have my pledge,' said the man in the bag.

" 'I accept it,' replied Pwyll and called to his men, 'Let him out.'

' 'Thereupon Gwawl was released from the bag and he departed to his own realm. The hall was then prepared for Pwyll as before, and they all sat down to a wonderful wedding feast. They ate and reveled, and when it came time to go to sleep Pwyll and Rhiannon went to the bridal bed and spent the night in pleasure and contentment.

"The next morning they returned to Caer Narberth where the feast continued for seven days with the best men and women in all the realm in attendance. And no one went away from the feast without being given some special gift, either a brooch or a ring or a precious stone.

"So began the reign of Pwyll Pen Annwfn and Rhiannon, fairest of the fair, and so ends this branch of the Mabinogi."

The last notes of the harp died away on the night air, and the bard bowed his head. The fires had dwindled and the torches burned low. Many people had wrapped themselves in skins and slept in their places, or had stretched out by the fire.

"Well spoken, Hafgan," said Gwyddno, gazing sleepily at the huddled forms around him. "You are the best of bards. But no more tonight. Let us take our rest now, for the feast continues and we will hear another tale tomorrow night."

With that, Gwyddno wrapped himself in a skin, curled up by the fire, and went to sleep. Elphin and Rhonwyn rose from the table and, gathering their fawn skins, slipped quietly away to Gwyddno's house where they lay down together on a bed of clean rushes and fell asleep in each other's arms.

CHAPTER NINE.

"It is late and we must travel early," said seithenin, his voice echoing slightly in the near-empty chamber. Heavy Cyprus beams arched into the darkness overhead; the richly enameled walls glimmered in the light of bra.s.s hanging lamps, making the room appear filled with restless shadows. "Tell us what your divining has revealed." The three Magi stood before the king, dressed in the billowy vestments of their office: a long white alb cinched with a braided silver Belt and covered by a sea-green chasuble edged in silver threadwork. Tall white cylinder-shaped hats covered their shaven heads. They raised their hands in the sign of the sun, thin smiles on their long faces. Avallach sat in a chair beside Seithenin; Annubi stood behind his master, hands resting on the back of the chair, eyes narrowed.

"Sire," said the foremost Mage, "after reading the required texts in the temple, we have consulted among ourselves and find this to be a most favorable sign-an omen of great virtue, signaling prosperity and ascendancy for all who witnessed it."

"Explain," said Seithenin. "I want to understand its significance more fully."

"As you will, Highness," replied the Mage with a sour smile. "It is our opinion that the starfall represents the seed of heaven wherewith Cronus has impregnated Ocea.n.u.s. The result will be the birth of a a new age in which the Nine Kingdoms will rise to lead the world in grace and wisdom and power." new age in which the Nine Kingdoms will rise to lead the world in grace and wisdom and power."

"So be it," replied the other Magi, bowing, cylindrical hats bobbing once and again.

"When will this take place?" asked Seithenin.

"Soon, Highness. As in a human birth there will be accompanying signs by which we shall be able to tell more precisely the moment of its coming. And then we shall announce the birth to the people."

Seithenin glanced at Avallach and said, "Please, speak if you have a mind to. I see that you are displeased."

"You are perceptive, Seithenin," Avallach replied. "I am displeased, it is true. And the reason is this: I am persuaded that the sign portends nothing half so pleasant as we have heard from these learned men. It is, rather, an omen of most dire circ.u.mstance." He challenged the Magi directly. "What do you say to that?"

The Magi bristled at this affront to their art, puffing out their cheeks. "What would be the source of your information?" asked the foremost Mage, glancing at Annubi. The sneer in his voice was subtle.

Avallach glared but did not rise to the insult. "I am waiting for your answer."

The three put their heads together and mumbled the matter over to themselves. At length they turned and their leader replied, "It is difficult, Sire, to explain to one untrained in the prophetic arts."

"Try me. I think you will find me most astute," Avallach said. "At least, I will not be dissuaded so easily."

The Mage mouthed a silent oath but launched into his explanation. "It is recognized among the wise that of al! signs of earth and sky, the omens of stars are most potent. We know that the heavenly houses through which the stars move in their courses"

"Yes, yes," said Avallach impatiently. "Get on with it. I am not stupid."

"To put it simply, the heavens may be said to represent that perfect order toward which all things on earth tend. Thus, as the stars fell from the House of Opportunity, pa.s.sing through the House of Kings, we should expect to see in creased fortune-especially for those of royal birth. When kings prosper, it follows that their kingdoms prosper. Starfalls are always highly propitious. There are precedents in the sacred texts-too numerous to mention, unfortunately-which bear out our opinion." The Mage spread his hands to show that any right-thinking man would find this explanation satisfactory, if not self-evident.

Avallach was not so quickly convinced. "It is" also true, is it not, that the sign for opportunity has a twin?"

The Mage appeared surprised. "Why, yes, of course. Many signs have paired interpretations."

"And is it not true that the twin of opportunity is danger?"

"This is true."

"In fact, is it not true that the sign for danger and opportunity are exactly the same?"

"They are twins, Sire. Yes."

"Not twins," Avallach insisted. "The same same sign." sign."

"It is so," allowed the Mage cautiously. "But the sacred texts are clear: this is to be regarded as propitious manifestation."

"Why is that?"

"Because it always is."

"You mean because nothing evil has ever issued from such an omen."

"Precisely," replied the Mage. His colleagues nodded in smug self-a.s.surance.

"I have always thought it unwise to Believe something will not happen simply because it has never happened before. Does nothing ever occur for the first time?"

The Mage sputtered and appealed to Seithenin for help. "Sire, if you are displeased with our service, please send us away. But I a.s.sure you we have studied this matter most completely and carefully."

Seithenin raised a hand soothingly. ' Tor my part, I am not displeased. But perhaps you will wish to look into the question Avallach has introduced, eh? Further inquiry would do no harm."

"As you wish," said the Mage. All three turned as one and walked from the chamber, the air crackling with their resentment.

When they had gone, Seithenin turned to Avallach and said, "What you say has merit, certainly. But I am content. I see no reason to dispute the wisdom of the Magi in this matter."

"I am of a different mind and will remain vigilant."

"If you are troubled, that is no doubt best. But," said Seithenin, slapping the arms of his chair and rising, "we travel tomorrow, and we both have wives waiting. Let us retire to more pleasant pursuits." He moved toward the door.

"I will follow directly," said Avallach. "Good night." Seithenm closed the door, and the sound of his footsteps receded in the hall.

"Well?" Avallach stood and faced his seer. "What did you see?"

Annubi's eyes flicked toward the door. "They were scared. Most of what they said was lies. Lies and foolishness. You were right to challenge them, but I think it will make them more stubborn. The Learned do not easily admit ignorance."

"Frightened? Why would they be frightened? Unless they know more than they are telling."

"It is just the reverse: they know less less than their words imply. They simply do not know what to make of the starfall and so cover up this lack by inventing pleasant-sounding lies." Annubi snorted. "They talk of precedents and sacred texts knowing full well that signs of this magnitude are exceedingly rare." than their words imply. They simply do not know what to make of the starfall and so cover up this lack by inventing pleasant-sounding lies." Annubi snorted. "They talk of precedents and sacred texts knowing full well that signs of this magnitude are exceedingly rare."

"It is strange. Why would they do it? Why not err on the side of caution?"

Annubi answered in a voice full of scorn. "And allow everyone to see how little wisdom they actually possess? No, rather than disenchant the people or their powerful patron, they will utter nonsense and make it sweet so that men will swallow it."

Avallach shook his head wonderingly. "It makes no sense."

"They have lost the power of their craft," explained An-nubi, exasperation shrilling his voice. "They cannot admit this to anyone, not even to themselves. They have forgotten, if they ever knew, that their purpose is to serve, not to rule."

"And so, lacking the vision, they talk louder so as to drown out dissenting voices." Avallach paused and added, "Setting that aside for the moment, what about the sign? Do you still think it ominous?"

"Most ominous, to be sure. I have no doubt-none whatsoever, "

"What of the Lia Fail? Will it help?"

"Oh, yes. When the time comes. But it is small and its use is limited, as you know. Still, it will help with more immediate events as they can be discerned."

"Then I will trust it, and you, Annubi. And now, since there is no more to be done about this for the moment, I suggest we find our beds and go to sleep."

Two young pages tumbled into the room just then with iron snuffers in their hands. They saw the two men, bowed hurriedly, and backed out the door. "No, enter," called Avallach. "We are finished. Save the lamps for another night."

The two kings and their combined retinues journeyed east from Seithenin's palace toward Poseidonis. The days were bright and warm and the travel enjoyable, for the roads were wide and well-paved and the company convivial. The towns along the route were alerted well in advance of the kings' arrival, and all turned out in force to welcome the n.o.ble travelers and wave them on their way.

The first night they camped just off the road in a field of new clover. The next night they camped near a town that feasted them with specially prepared food and drink for which the townspeople were famous among the Corani. The two nights following were spent in a fragrant cedar forest; the fifth night they camped on the estate of one of Seithenin's n.o.blemen, who provided a horse race for their amus.e.m.e.nt.

They journeyed on, pa.s.sing through fields and forests, over smooth hills and broad, fertile plains across which herds of wild horses and oxen ran. And then, on the afternoon of the twelfth day, they reached the king's causeway which led to the capital city. The carriages and chariots rolled through wooded hills and crossed swirling streams on bridges that thundered with the sound of the horses' hooves. And as the sun tinted the lower heavens with its fiery gold, the long procession crested the rim of the valley and paused to look down into the broad basin which cradled the city of the High King.

Poseidonis was a large city-a city within a city, for the palace of the High,King was a city in itself-laid out in a perfect circle a thousand stadia in diameter, corresponding to the sacred sun disk. The circle was pierced by a ca.n.a.l that ran from the Temple of the Sun to the sea, a ca.n.a.l wide enough for two triremes to pa.s.s one another and straight as a spearshaft along its dressed stone length.

Three more ca.n.a.ls, each a circle-one within the other, separated by rings of land, or zones-intersected the straight ca.n.a.l. These inner sections together formed the palace of the High King. The royal apartments were housed in the enormous temple which covered the disk-shaped island of the innermost zone. The ca.n.a.ls were perfect concentric rings joined by huge bridges, which were approached by ramps and steeply arched to allow cargo-laden boats to pa.s.s beneath.

The entire city was surrounded by an immense outer wall of white stone from which at measured intervals rose spire-topped turrets. Beneath each turret was a brazen gate-each gate cast from a different metal: bronze, iron, copper, silver, gold, orichalc.u.m. Through the gates pa.s.sed the busy commerce of the city-traders from all Nine Kingdoms and the world beyond. Except for these gates, and the long ca.n.a.l which joined the harbor, the white stone curtain was seamless and unbreached.

And rising in the distance like a snow-capped pyramid stood Mount Atlas, cold and aloof, wrapped in robes of mist and cloud, towering over all, its peak thrusting at the sun-washed sky dome. The holy mountain of the G.o.ds loomed over the city, reminding all who lived under its shadow that, like the mountain itself, the G.o.ds were above all, supreme, remote, indifferent-silent yet ever present.

Charis took all this in as the coaches and chariots paused before beginning the descent into the basin. Although she had often heard the wonders of the capital extolled, she had never imagined it to be this grand, this imposing. She stared at the glimmering scene before her, and then the carriage rocked forward and they were descending to the city.

Trumpeters in the high turrets of the outer wall saw the royal procession approaching and heralded the kings' arrival with a brilliant fanfare that reverberated throughout the city. Riders dressed in the livery of the High King raced ahead through the crowded streets to clear the way. The carriages approached the gate, then rolled onto the Avenue of Porticos, so called for the homes of the wealthy merchants of the district whose houses lined the street-each house featuring a long, raised, multicolumned porch which shaded the front of the enormous edifice.

The carriages swept along the avenue, pa.s.sing through gates, between high walls, and along crowded markets ringing with the sounds of trade. Charis glimpsed black oxen, and sand-colored camels laden with exotic goods, and once saw a painted elephant chained to a pillar beside a stall. The air was heavy with the scent of spices and incense; it rang with the cries of beasts and men-camels braying, dogs barking, children screeching, and merchants hawking their wares. Everywhere Charis looked she saw the reddish gleam of expensive orichalc.u.m shimmering in the sun. It was as if the city were wrought entirely of the G.o.d's own metal, so that it blazed with Bel's glory, as a jewel blazes from every facet. The royal entourage crawled through the bawling, busy district and at last came to the place where the avenue intersected the Processional Way, a wide and well-paved avenue leading directly to the High King's temple palace.

Once on the Processional Way, they quickly arrived at the first high-arched bridge crossing the first ca.n.a.l. The bridge was lined with the banners of the Nine Kingdoms, and at each banner stood a soldier bearing an oblong shield and a lance of silver.

The procession clattered over the bridge and entered the first of the inner zones. Here the royal craftsmen lived in tall, narrow houses of white-glazed brick, their quarters above their workshops. There were smiths and weavers and potters, woodwrights, masons, glaziers, tanners, chandlers, shoe and harness makers, lute and lyre makers, fullers, spinners, rug makers, wagonwrights, carvers, founders, tinkers, coopers, toolmakers, brickmakers, gla.s.smakers, stonecutters, dyers, and enamelers.

The paving stones fairly vibrated with the combined industry, and the air was filled with dust and smoke, the clamor of voices and the clangor of hammers: hammers on stone, hammers on metal, hammers on wood. Like the soldiers on the bridge, everyone wore the livery of the High King-long green tunics over blue trousers, and wide silver collars.

The entourage pa.s.sed through the first zone and came to the second circular ca.n.a.l, whose bridge, like the first, had two high towers on either side which were joined by a covered walkway above, from which a gate could be lowered. The banners of the Nine Kingdoms flew from spears, a soldier in ceremonial armor-breastplate and shield shaped like scallop sh.e.l.ls and helmet shaped like a nautilus-gleaming beneath each one.

Upon crossing the bridge, they entered the second inner ring which, when compared to the first, was as silent as the grave itself, for this was the province of the Magi who served in the temple of the High King or taught their ancient arts in the temple schools. The buildings of this ring were of glazed brick also but tinted light blue; they had thin windows and narrow, arched doorways and were topped with bulbous domes, around which were constructed circular parapets. Scattered among the dwellings were numerous round towers with staircases spiraling up the outside. Instead of domes, however, the towers' tops were flat, thus affording the Magi platforms from which to study the night sky with various sky-searching instruments.

A dense blue haze hung over the section, and this, Charis soon realized, was due to the mounds of incense burned for divination. For on every corner and in every nook and sheltered alley of the honeycombed streets, Magi, standing at smoldering braziers or huddled over seeing stones in dark dens, served pilgrims of the Nine Kingdoms who had come seeking advice or blessing or to have their futures cast by the wisest and most holy in the land.

The carriages proceeded through the second zone and came to the third and last bridge, which was made of stone and lined on either side with pedestals-each one bearing the sculpted likeness of a former High King. Across the bridge rose the palace: a gleaming mountain of a structure rising up on tiered bases stacked, it seemed, one atop another in descending sizes to end in a great, needlelike oBelisk at the pinnacle. This oBelisk was carved from an enormous crystal of topaz, so that when the sun's rays struck it in the morning, the oBelisk appeared to flare like a single golden flame.

Great hemispheres of orichalc.u.m domes bulged atop ma.s.sive square foundations; gleaming towers and rotundas topped by golden cupolas reached skyward; gigantic columns stood in ordered rows, bearing up roofs and ramparts; tall, tapering spires with gilded finials soared majestically over all. There were halls and galleries by the score; elevated gardens graced every level; fountains and waterfalls sparkled in the sun.

The procession pa.s.sed through a huge archway and entered the foremost courtyard, a veritable plain, where the travelers saw porters standing rank on rank, awaiting their arrival. They stopped and had no sooner stepped down from their carriages and chariots than the porters sprang into action, unloading the wagons, seizing the luggage of the kings and bearing it into the palace on their heads. All at once they were surrounded by music; Charis looked and saw musicians emerging from the colonnade marching forward to welcome them.

Leading the musicians, some distance ahead of them, strode a tall man dressed all in green and carrying a gold-tipped ivory rod. "Is that the High King?" asked Charis in a whisper.

"No," answered her mother, "that is the king's steward. He will conduct us into the palace and present us to the High King."

The steward bowed low before the kings, uttered a few private words, and then they all tramped up the short flight of stairs to the colonnade and into the palace. Charis, who thought that not even Bel himself could have a palace so grand, walked lightly, as if her feet had difficulty making contact with the ground.

They entered a reception hall and the steward gave them to the care of chamberlains, explaining, "Your apartments have been prepared. You will wish to refresh yourselves after your journey. The High King is anxious to welcome you and will do so this evening in the Hall of Ocea.n.u.s. Ushers will come for you at the proper time." He inclined his head in a regal nod. "Until then, should you require anything to complete your happiness, the chamberlain is yours to command."