Gereint raised his head. He had been kneeling all night on the stone floor, half dreaming and half praying, but there was no sleep in him. He felt light, empty, exalted.
Slowly his eyes focused and his mind came back from far and magical places. The chapel was full of shadows and whispers. Its jeweled windows were dark, its banks of candles burning low as the night wore its way toward dawn.
The man who had spoken moved into what light there was. His face was somber but his dark eyes were smiling. "They're waiting for you," he said.