At Tintagel

By Michael R. Burch

That night,
at Tintagel,
there was darkness such as man had never seen.
Darkness and treachery,
and the unholy thundering of the sea.

In his arms,
who is to say how much she knew?
And if he whispered her name,
"Ygraine..."
Could she tell above the howling wind and rain?

Could she tell, or did she care,
by the length of his hair
or the heat of his flesh
that her faceless companion
was Uther, the dragon,

and Gorlois lay dead?