Chapters (12)
Nimue screamed. I turned the mare away and drove her back to the beach and back across the litter of battle to where my last warband waited. And there I saw that the army of the mad was drifting away. They were going, and Mordred’s men, those that survived, were fleeing down the beach to escape the advance of Meurig’s troops. Dumnonia would fall, a weak King would rule and the Saxons would return, but we would live.
I slid from the horse, took Ceinwyn’s arm, and led her to the top of a nearby dune. The sky in the west was a fierce red glow for the sun was gone, and together we stood in the world’s shadow and watched as Prydwen rose and fell to the waves. Her sail was full now, for the evening wind was blowing from the west and Prydweri’s prow broke water white and her stern left a widening wake across the sea. Full south she sailed, and then she turned into the west, but the wind was from the west and no boat can sail straight into the wind’s eye, yet I swear that boat did. She sailed west, and the wind was blowing from the west, yet her sail was full and her high prow cut the water white, or maybe I did not know what it was that I saw for there were tears in my eyes and more tears running down my cheeks.
And while we watched we saw a silver mist form on the water.
Ceinwyn gripped my arm. The mist was just a patch, but it grew and it glowed. The sun was gone, there was no moon shining, just the stars and the twilight sky and the silver-flecked sea and the dark-sailed boat, yet the mist did glow. Like the silver spindrift of stars, it glowed. Or maybe it was just the tears in my eyes.
‘Derfel!’ Sansum snapped at me. He had come with Meurig and now he scrambled across the sand towards us. ‘Derfel!’ he called. ‘I want you! Come here! Now!’
‘My dear Lord,’ I said, but not to him. I spoke to Arthur. And I watched and wept, my arm around Ceinwyn, as the pale boat was swallowed by the shimmering silver mist.
And so my Lord was gone.
And no one has seen him since.