“Igraine,” he said.
She turned to him with a soft smile.
“I have been dreaming,” he confessed gravely.
“Dreaming, Pelleas?”
“I thought,” said he, “that I saw a great dragon of gold come over the meadows with a naked sword in his mouth, and a collar of rubies round his throat. And he came to the mere’s edge, ramping and breathing fire. And lo! he entered into the barge there, and the barge went forth bearing him, while all the mere’s water boiled and shone about the boat like flame. So he came to the island, and all greenness seemed to wither before him, and with the fear of him I awoke.”
Igraine shook her head at the man.
“Your dreams are distraught,” she said; “it is your wound, Pelleas. In faith we should need the great Merlin for such a vision.”
“Ah,” said he, “I can read you the riddle, Igraine. Our barge lies by the land bank ready for any foe. That is where the dream touches us.”
Igraine brought him a bowl of crushed bread and fruit, and made as though to feed him.