“Near Caerleon lies a valley.”
“There are twenty valleys.”
“Go north, sire, in thought. Pass the Cross on Beacon Hill, hold on for the Abbey of the Blessed Mary, take to the hills, go by a ruined tower, ford Usk, where there is a hermitage. Pass through a waste, cross more hills, go down into a valley that runs north and south.”
“I follow.”
“Go alone, sire.”
“Alone.”
“The valley is piled steep with forestland. Go down and fear not. In the valley’s lap lie meadowlands, a pool, a cottage. In that cottage you shall find a knight; his armour is gilded gold, his horse a grey, his shield shows a cloven heart set amid white lilies. Speak with that knight.”
“Yet more!”
“Speak with that knight, sire.”