Daughter Of The Morning
...And Lost

“Why did you wish to speakto me?” it was the first words Ceri had spoken since their greeting and hervoice sounded unnaturally loud in the frosty silence.

“To inform you that the Dark now have full knowledgeof who you are. My mission was to warn you to be on your guard, Lady.” Hernepaused and then his golden eyes blazed triumph, “However, Ambrosius recognisedyou and what is more important is that the other lords of this domain didlikewise. I doubt that the Dark expected that. They will no longer be able tothwart you, or not for some time at any rate. My Lady, you are truly fit tohold the San Graal.”

“So Royal blood flows in myveins,” Cerian replied her blue eyes alight with laughter.

“Oh yes. The Grail made youtruly Royal the moment you held it and promised to do your utmost to fulfillthe quest to free me.” Herne replied with utter solemnity, “My liege, this isonly a beginning and the end is not yet in sight. I believe that we now have afighting chance.”

“And I must go forward intime,” Ceri remarked. “Come, my Lord.” Side by side they trotted forwardand disappeared. Together the horses emerged onto the lawn behind the house. Acold wind whipped around them, making their mounts snort and stamp in protest,

“What now?” Ceri turned hereyes towards the Being on her left.

“It is almost time for the ceremony,” Herne seemed to besitting straighter in the saddle and his voice had a deeperresonance. ”The days grow shorter and the winter solstice beckons.It is an important time for you - it will be your fifteenth birthday. Wemust be there for these ceremonies.”

“We?” Ceri queried softly.

“We, my liege.”

“I miss him,” Ceri saidsimply, staring at the house before her, “he was more of a friend than afather. We never really had time to know each other before I had to leave andyet - and yet I miss him. But I miss my own family too, and these peoplewho took me in when I was but a babe I shall always regard as myfirst family for without them I may not have had the courtesy to address mytrue father.”

“I know that,” Herne’s voicewas no more than a whisper. “All of the Ancient Ones will be at this festivalLady. The Beltane fire will be high and it may be that youwill leap across those flames with your husband-to-be, you should come.”

Ceri flung back herhead and laughed suddenly, “You have an ulterior motive, Lord Herne!” Shedismounted still chuckling to herself and taking the horse’s reins over itshead she handed them to Herne. “Call me when the time comes,” sheinstructed. Then she turned and walked to the house. At the door shepaused and turned to look back.

Herne was stillmounted on his horse and for a moment she thought that she saw pity inhis gaze then it disappeared to be replaced by a grim smile, she saw him nodquickly and then he and the horses vanished from view. For what seemed a longwhile Ceri stood watching the spot where they had been.

She checked that the firewas still alight and after filling the scuttle and making up the fire sheplonked herself down in front of the television. There was a film on one of thecable channels, but she was only half-watching it, she was listening to thesound of cooking coming from the kitchen and feeling like an outsider.

Ceri leant back in thechair and sighed, Rufus came and nuzzled her leg, “I somehow thinkyou can’t help this time Rufus,” Ceri sighed, she scratchedthe dog’s head and sighed again, “I feel that I’ve failed. Whatever I wassupposed to do I haven’t done or couldn’t do it, and I think I’velet Herne down. Oh Ruf, what am I going to do? I love myparents, but they’re not my parents, I can’t see my true father as myfather, but more as a friend. The whole world is going mad around me andthere’s nothing that I can do.”

Then it was as if sheheard Herne’s voice in her head, “And who are you parents, Madam?”

Ceri grinned to herself andwhispered, “You are right, Lord. My parents belong to this time and toAncient time. I stand between Times and claim both as my own!”

She was valiantly trying toenjoy the film when Mum called, “Dinner’s ready!” there was no answer so sheshouted again, “Say, Yes Chef!”

“Yes Chef!” Ceri and her Dadchorused as they walked into the kitchen. Mum was busily destroying a chicken and heaping various dismemberedparts onto plates which already had a serving of vegetables on them.

“Take your plate,” sheordered as they entered.

Ceri set her plate down atthe table and picked up her knife and fork, attacking the breast was easy, butshe had to get some kitchen roll to wipe her fingers after she’d munched herway through the leg. She was halfway through dinner when a thought occurred toher, “Mum?” she asked, “Did you plan to get pregnant again or was it a fluke?”

Her Mum smiled, “It wasn’texactly a fluke. Me and your father tried for a few years after we weremarried, I always wanted more than one child, but it never happened. Then we were so busy – we weren’t evenspending time in the same county, let alone the same bed, so it just got pushedaside. It was only last month when Irealized that I might be expecting. Itwasn’t a total fluke, but it was slightly unexpected.”

Later she helped toload the dishwasher and then they sat down in the lounge andwatched the television for a while. Her thoughts flew back to theconversation between Mum and herself, Threedays until the twenty-first, she mused, so that’s what Herne meant, the Winter Solstice, a little thrill ran through her, myfifteenth birthday!

“Dad,” she said quietly.

“Yes, sweetheart,” hereplied looking up from his newspaper.

“Could we-I meancan we, can I have my birthday on Christmas Day. Then you can combine myChristmas Present with my Birthday one.”

“If that’s what you want mylove,” Dad replied, “are you sure?”

“Please.” Ceri responded, “I know that we usually don’t celebrate my birthdayuntil January, but it’ll be really hectic trying to get all my packing done - and I’d just like to have one day where I don’t have to worry about anything.”

Her father lookedacross the room at his wife and said, “That all right, love?”

“I don’t see why not,”Mum replied, “it means I only have to cook one meal instead of two.All right.”

Preparations forChristmas began in earnest that week andCeri found herself being drawn more into the family circle. She foundherself stirring puddings, making cakes, mince pies, she even helped her father to fetch the Yule Log. She was so busy that two days passed in a glut of preparations. She had just finished the fifthbatch of mince pies and walked out onto the back lawn, it was only half pastfour, yet the sun was already a orange-red disc on the horizon.

“Our Lord, the Sun, leavesus for another year, we must light the fires to tell him to return to ussoon, for the Dark has regained its foothold for a short span. Let there be rejoicing tonight, and let the Beltane fires burn high-” Ceri felt a little shiver run down herspine, there had been a resonance in that voice, as ifanother person spoke it, and not her father, “everything okay,Cerian?” he asked in a more normal tone of voice.

“Yes, Dad,” Ceri smiled upat him, “what were you quoting?”

“Just something I thought anAncient Briton might say.” he replied, “They believed that the forces of Light and Dark held sway over all countries. They believedthat the Sun was not just a source of light, but also their God of Light, so when the hours of light became shorter in wintertime they lit fires in the hope that this would induce him toreturn. After a while it became customary for the fires to be lit on one special day, the twenty-first of December as this was the true heralding of winter.”He paused and then smiled at his daughter, “they were great fires inthose days, and it was said that if a betrothed couple jumpedover the flames, hand in hand it prophesied long life and healthy sons.”

“No daughters?” queriedCeri.

“Daughters were notlooked upon with favour by the Ancient Briton, all he saw wasmouths to feed and dowries to pay to prospective husbands who would takethem off their hands. Happily we have modified our approach somewhatand daughters are seen in a more favourable light.”

“Sometimes only awoman may accomplish that which a man cannot.” Ceri remarked.

He replied softly, “Perhaps, but I still believe that women are the weaker sexand therefore need protection more than men, a man may take care of himself itis harder for a woman. Looking forward to Christmas Ceri?”

“I suppose so, Dad.” Ceri sighed, “I just don’t want to go back toschool.”

“I know,” her father took her hand and gently squeezed it, “but unfortunately its the law, we have to send you to have some sort of schooling.”

“Couldn’t I choose what formof schooling I want?” Ceri queried.

“No.” Her father sighed,“not yet, but when you’re older you may decide what form of education you wantto do. You like English, so perhaps you’ll want to study only English, orHistory, or any other subject.”

“Butwhy can’t I do that now?” Cerian implored.

“Because you need a basic education in all subjects sothat the Government can say that they’ve taught you a little abouteverything. Even if,” he paused at the scowl on Ceri’s face, “you don’tunderstand any of it. That’s where the system falls down, theycheck to make sure that you are taught certain subjects, but they fail tocheck whether the pupils adequately understand them.”

Ceri looked thoughtful andthen she said, “Could I study Journalism?”

“Yes,” her fatherreplied, “if you want to be a newspaper reporter, or an Editor of a magazine. Or even if you want to become a writer. Whoknows,” his eyes danced wickedly, “you might even win a Nobel Prize for Literature.”

“I might,” Ceri forceda smile to her numb lips, because she knew that whatever power sheheld within her frame would take her away from those she loved before shecould even begin to think of further schooling.

She slept fitfully thatnight and woke suddenly, as if a well remembered voice had called her fromsleep. The night was pitch dark, Ceri pulled a robe around herself and pulledopen the curtains. Every blade of grass glittered like a sharpenedpilum in the lamplight from the road, a chill wind blew across the grass but the blades did not bend and Ceri was reminded of anarmy waiting for its leader. A whisper touched Ceri’s face and coiledaround the curtains making them sway, then Ceri saw him. Herne stood on the lawn clad in armour, he held out his hand and spoke the oneword, “Come.”

Without hesitationCeri stepped through the wall and onto the lawn, she felt him graspher hand and it was as if she’d truly come home. “My liege,” he said softly,“Art thou ready?”

“This time, yes, Lord.”

Herne gazed down upon herand spoke, “Then come, my Lady.” He took her other hand and kissed herknuckles, as he did so the breeze became stronger and seemedto be blowing them away for they became fainter with each passing moment until there was only the frost on the grass and themournful note of the night air as it moaned above the garden.

The Abbey’s windows were litfor the feast, in the courtyard a great fire blazed brightly. Herneregarded Ceri’s form with some distaste, “Lady, I suggest that youchange, I do not think that you will be regarded with much favour if you appearbefore the Ancient Ones dressed like that.”

Ceri looked down at herself,her dressing gown looked old and shabby, fluffy pink slippers poked out from beneath it. She wiggled her toesexperimentally and then raised her head and grinned up at Herne, “You have apoint,” she replied, “If you’ll show me to my room I’ll get changed.”

Herne nodded courteously andone arm around her waist guided her into the building and up the stairsinto one of the smaller cells. “Dress quickly,” Herne said as he left her. “Andwear this.”

He handed her a mediumsized casket, Ceri watched the door close and stood staring at it for what seemed a very long time. Finally she looked around, behind her stood an old table, she placed the box on the table andquickly divested herself of her dressing gown and nightdress. Herclothes were already laid out on the bed, she slipped them on, dressingin a white cambric undershirt and above that a pale blue ankle length dress,soft blue leather boots adorned her feet and this time a palesilver belt with the image of a horse embossed on the buckle was fastenedaround her waist. A rich vermilion cloak hung on the back of the door,she slipped it on, it was equipped with a hood. Then she turned herattention back to the box on the table.

As she opened it asoft gleam came from within and the top fell open to reveal the circletwith which Nimüe had crowned her the night she had been hailed asPrincess.

Slowly, reverently shelifted the crown, it seemed to become alive in her hands, as if ithad been waiting for her. There was a full-length mirror inside thewardrobe, for a long time Ceri stood staring at her reflection, thenreluctantly she placed the crown on her head. It blazed brilliantly, as if to proclaim that it had finally found its mistress.

“Stop that.” Cericommanded and the glow dimmed, she wrenched it off and collapsed onthe bed. When Herne came for her he found her sitting on the bed,her face streaked with dried tears and the crown lying, discarded on thefloor.

“I can’t wear it,” she saidwithout turning, “I put it on and it started to glow, and when I told itto stop - it stopped! I don’t want to know any more. Just forget about tonight.”

Herne bent andpicked the crown up and seated himself beside Ceri, gently heput an arm around her and cuddled her to him, “Oh Cerian,” he said gently, “this crown only augments the power you already have, it is only a tool, a sophisticated tool but still a tool. You don’t have towear it if you don’t want to of course, but you may replace that thetasks you are called upon to do will be much harder without it.”

“But I can’t wear itin my own world,” Cerian turned to look at him for the first time.

“In a few weeksyou will become a schoolgirl again and return to your lessons and your books and there will be no question of your power evercoming to the notice of the people in your own world. Lady, you don’t have to use it, not everyone can wear it with impunity, some it has scarred for life because they presumed that they could wear thiscrown. Will you wear it for me, or ifnot for me, for tonight?”

Cerian stared athim for a long time and then slowly she removed the circle of silver fromHerne’s fingers and returned to the mirror. She combed her fair hair andreplaced the band. It glimmered faintly, like starlight on frost.Walking across to the basin and ewer she poured some water and washed the tear marks from her cheeks. It was a more composed lady that turnedback to the Hunter, “Shall we go, Lord?” she queried, “it would not do to keepour guests waiting.”

At the bottom ofthe stairs Galahad was pacing back and forth like a cagedtiger. Ceri touched his arm and some ofthe tension seemed to leave him, “Have we kept you waiting, mon chevalier?”

Galahad smiled down ather and shook his head, “Not really, Princess, but something’s happeningaround us, Time appears to be shifting and it is disconcerting for one such as me who still remembers what it was like to beconstrained by Time.”

“Then we must hurry,”Herne said quickly and the last thing Ceri felt was his hand beneath herelbow before the world around her collapsed. She looked around, Galahad and Cernunnos had disappeared and shestood in a large room before a great fire. Suddenly thedoor opened and a monk entered, “My Lady, you must comequickly. A messenger has arrived from Winchester, the King, your fatheris grievously ill. You must go to him.”

“I’ll comeimmediately,” Ceri said quickly, pulling the cloak around her shefollowed the Brother out into the chill night air.

A man stood holding thebridles of two horses, Ceri stepped forward into the light and hebowed solemnly, “My Lady, I am charged to bring you toWinchester. You know about the King?”and as Ceri nodded, he continued, “he begged us to replace you before hedied.”

“Then we mustleave immediately,” Ceri replied bluntly. She mounted quickly,fumbling for the stirrup on the sidesaddle and finally gathering up the reins.

She bent down from the horseto inform the monk of her destination and thought that she recognisedhim, as he held the torch up so that she could see his face,she suddenly knew she was regarding Cernunnos in anotherguise. “Return to us soon, Madam,” he said quietly, and she heard his voicein her mind, Be of good courage, I shall be with you.

Ceri’s lips set in athin line and she urged her mount forward into the night. They rode like the wind for Winchester andthe moon had set and the stars were beginning to pale whenthey arrived at the palace. Cerian marched into the keep with all the grace and audacity asbefitted one of her rank, “Take me to the King,” she demanded.

“My lady, would you not prefer some refreshment after your ride,” Flaptonguequavered.

“There is no time,”Ceri replied, more gently now, “please, I must see the King!”

“And you shall.” Anothervoice said softly, Ceri looked up, a nun stood at the top of the stairs,“follow me, my lady.”

There was a smell in theair, and Ceri had to fight to keep from retching, it was a mixture of feathers, sweat and the peculiar fœtid smellof sickrooms. Ambrosius lay on the bed, asleep, though even in sleep he muttered deliriously and his hands plucked the coverlet. Ceri divested herself of thecloak she wore and taking the bowl of water and cloths from theservant gently began to wipe the sweat from her father’s face and neck. As the day wore on he seemedto pass into a kind of sleep. However bymid-afternoon he was muttering again lost in the throes of deliriumand Ceri knew that his malady was grave. It was night when she left the chamber to eat and when shereturned Ambrosius was conscious, although Ceri could see from hispallor that he was dangerously ill.

“Ceri!” he cried as he saw her and tried to rise but slumped backagainst the cushions, “you came. Ithought I might never see you again.”

“I told you that if you everneeded me, I would come.” Ceri said, trying not to cry “Do you want me totry to heal you?”

“No.” Ambrosius shook hishead, “not this time. Will you tell Merlin I was thinking of him?”

“Father, I’m here.”Ceri turned and saw Merlin standing at the end of the bed, hewas older now and all at once Ceri felt more alone than ever, “rest easyFather, we’re both here.”

“You will remember me?”

“All of England willremember you,” they spoke in unison and a weak smile touched hislips.

“You will finish themonument for me?” he spoke to Merlin again and Ceri saw the attendants’frightened glances and heard their whispers.

“The King is delirious, hespeaks to demons!”

“He cannot livelong now, he is not even aware of us.” Ceri saw them both make the sign to wardoff the evil eye and suppressed the desire to laugh.

“Do you want to be buriedwhere the monument stands?” Ceri asked. Ambrosius nodded quickly and smiled again, “Uther is to be King after me,you will tell him?” this was to Merlin.

“I shall do that, Father.”

“I have left Britain unifiedat last. Do not grieve, mychildren, celebrate my passing for I go to join the Invincible Sun.” He fell silent and his eyes closed, Ceriturned and saw Merlin smile at her, “Will this be farewell, my sister?”

“I don’t know,” Ceriansighed, “I should like us to meet again, brother. You and I are the only ones who understandwhat it is like to bear these burdens of knowledge and power.”

“I hope we meet again. Have the servants send for my mother’s coffinat the Convent of Saint Peter in Maridunum. Will you take care of him?”

“Yes,” Ceri wanted to saymore but found there were no words to express the depth of her emotions. “Farewell, Merlin. I shall dress him in his battle garb with hissword in his hand.” Merlin raised a handin farewell and then slowly faded until he was gone.

Ambrosius awoke once afterthat, he smiled up at Ceri and whispered, “Your crown, where did you get it?”

“It was given to me atGlastonbury.”

“I have seen it before,”Ambrosius sighed, “on the altar to Mithras beneath the Mountains of the World.The legend -” Ceri gently laid a finger on his lips, “Sssh, Father, youshouldn’t talk so much. You’ll exhaust yourself.”

Ambrosius grinned, awarrior’s grin, grim and fierce and replied with some of the old strength,“This is something that you should know. This Diadem has lain on the altar to Mithras for many Ages ofMan. There is a story that a sword ofPower was forged from a special metal long ago and with the excess metal aDiadem was made. It was said thatwhomsoever wore it would herald the new age.” He broke off suddenly and layback on the bed his breathing ragged. Finally he looked up at Ceri and she saw that his eyes were full of love“Is this the new age - now - in my time?”

“Not yet,” Ceri replied, sheclasped her father’s hand and said quietly, “I am still not sure what isexpected of me, all I seem to do is make mistakes.”

“We all do. Just be surethat you learn from the mistakes you make,” Ambrosius whispered. His lipscurved upwards again, “But I have seen the Diadem of Mithras worn, by my ownchild! What more could a man ask of any god? Stay with me, Cerian.”

“Until you order me to leaveyou, My Lord.” Cerian replied, “may your sleep be peaceful and your dreamspleasant until the Sol Invictus himself takes your hand and awakens you.”

“My beloved daughter,”Ambrosius whispered and then his eyes seemed to fill with a blue fire. Hisskin became almost translucent and a look of ineffable peace crossed hisface. He inhaled once more and then thebreath escaped from his body in a soft sigh and Ambrosius seemed to sink alittle further into the cushions.

Ceri slid from the stool andkneeling beside the bed buried her face in her hands and sobbed until shethought her heart would break.