Marion Bradley - The Mists of Avalon

"It is more than a jest, Gwen," said Arthur, sitting to draw off his leather hose. "We must get Lancelet married. Have you seen how all the lads run to him, and how good he is with them? He should have sons of his own. I have it, Gwen! We will marry him to Morgaine!"

"No!" The word was torn from her before she thought, and Arthur looked at her, startled.

"What is the matter with you? Does it not seem perfect, the right choice? My dear sister and my best friend? And their children, mark you, would be next heirs to our throne in any case, if it should be that the Gods send us no children ... . No, no, don't cry, my love," he begged, and Gwenhwyfar knew, humiliated and shamed, that her face had twisted with weeping. "I meant not to reproach you, my dearest love, children come when the Goddess wills, but only she knows when we will have children, or if we will ever have them at all. And although Gawaine is dear to me, I have no will to put a son of Lot on the throne if I should die. Morgaine is my own mother's child, and Lancelet my cousin-"

"Surely it cannot matter to Lancelet whether or no he has sons," said Gwenhwyfar. "He is fifth-or is it sixth-son to King Ban, and bastard-born at that."

"I never thought to hear you, of all people, reproach my kinsman and dearest friend with his birth," Arthur said. "And he is no ordinary bastard, but son to the grove and the Great Marriage-"

"Pagan harlotries! If I were King Ban, I would clean all such sorcerous filth from my kingdom-and so should you!"

Arthur shifted uneasily, clambering under the bed cover. "Lancelet would have little cause to love me if I drove his mother from this kingdom. And I am sworn to honor Avalon, by the sword they gave me at my kingmaking."

Gwenhwyfar looked at the great sword Excalibur, where it hung over the edge of the bed in its magical scabbard covered with mystical symbols that seemed to shine with pale silver and mock at her. She put out the light and lay down beside Arthur, saying, "Our Lord Jesus would safeguard you better than any such wicked enchantments. You did not have to do with any of their vile Goddesses and sorcery before you were made King, did you? I know such things were done in Uther's day, but this is a Christian land!"

Arthur shifted uneasily and said, "There are many folk in this land, the Old People who dwelt here long before Rome came to us-we cannot take their Gods from them. And-what befell before my crowning-well, that touches you not, my Gwenhwyfar."

"Men cannot serve two masters," said Gwenhwyfar, surprised at her own daring. "I would have you altogether a Christian king, my lord."

"I owe allegiance to all my people," said Arthur, "not those alone who follow Christ-"

"It seems to me," said Gwenhwyfar, "that those are your enemies, not the Saxons. The true warfare for a Christian king is only against those who do not follow Christ."

Arthur laughed uneasily at that. "Now do you sound like the bishop Patricius. He would have us Christianize the Saxons rather than putting them to the sword, so that we may live at peace with them. For my part I am like to the priests who were here in the older days, who were asked to send missionaries to the Saxons-know you what they said, my wife?"

"No, I have never heard-"

"They said, they would send no missionaries to the Saxons, lest they be forced to meet them in peace, even before God's throne." Arthur laughed heartily, but Gwenhwyfar did not smile, and after a time he sighed.

"Well, think on it, my Gwenhwyfar. It seems to me the best possible marriage-my dearest friend and my sister. Then would he be my brother and his sons my heirs ... ."

In the darkness his arms went round her, and he added, "But now we must strive to make it come to pass that we will need no other heirs, you and I, my love, but those you can give to me."

"God grant it," whispered Gwenhwyfar, moving into his arms, and tried to close away everything out of her mind but Arthur, here in her arms.

MORGAINE, lingering after she had seen the women to bed, stood near the. window, restless. Elaine, who shared her bed, murmured to her, "Come and sleep, Morgaine; it is late, you must be weary."

She shook her head. "I think it is the moon that has gotten into my blood tonight-I am not sleepy." She was unwilling to lie down and close her eyes; even if she had not the Sight, it was her imagination which would torment her. All round her the newly returned men joined with their wives -she thought, with a wry smile in the darkness, it is like to Beltane in Avalon ... even the soldiers who were not wedded, she was sure, had somehow found women for this night. Everyone, from the King with his wife down to the stablemen, lay in someone's arms tonight, except for the Queen's maidens; Gwenhwyfar thought it her duty to guard their chastity, even as Balan had said. And I am guarded with the Queen's maidens.

Lancelet, at Arthur's wedding ... that had come to nothing, through no fault of their own. And Lancelet has stayed away from the court as often as he might ... no doubt, so that he need not see Gwenhwyfar in Arthur's arms! But he is here now ... and like herself, he was alone this night, among soldiers and horsemen, no doubt dreaming of the Queen, of the one woman in the kingdom he could not have. For surely every other woman at court, wedded or maiden, was as willing to have him as she herself. Save for bad fortune at Arthur's wedding, she would have had him; and honorable as he was, if he^had made her pregnant, he would have married her.

Not that it is likely I would have conceived, with the harm I suffered at Gwydion's birth ... but I need not have told him that. And I could have made him happy, even if I could not bear him a son. There was a time he wanted me, before ever he saw Gwenhwyfar, and after too ... save for mischance, I would have made him forget her in my arms ... .

And I am not so undesirable as that ... when I was singing tonight, many of the knights looked on me with desire ... .

I could make Lancelet desire me ... .

Elaine said impatiently, "Will you not come to bed, Morgaine?"

"Not yet awhile ... I think I will walk a little out of doors," said Morgaine, though this was forbidden to the Queen's women, and Elaine shrank back, with that timidity which so exasperated Morgaine. She wondered if Elaine had caught it from the Queen like a fever, or a new fashion in wearing veils.

"Are you not afraid with all the men encamped about?" Morgaine laughed. "Well, think you not I am weary of lying alone?" But she saw that the jest offended Elaine and said, more gently, "I am the King's sister. None would touch me against my will. Do you really think me so tempting no man could resist me? I am six-and-twenty, not a dainty young virgin like yourself, Elaine."

Morgaine lay down, without undressing, beside Elaine. In the darkness and silence, as she had feared, her imagination-or was it the Sight?-made pictures: Arthur with Gwenhwyfar, men with women all round her throughout the castle, joined in love or simple lust.

And Lancelet, was he alone too? Memory attacked her again, more intense than imagination, and she remembered that day, bright sunlight on the Tor, Lancelet's kisses running that first awakening knife-sharp through her body; and the bitterness of regret that she was pledged elsewhere. And then, when Arthur was wedded to Gwenhwyfar, and he had come near to tearing off her clothes and having her there in the stables-he had wanted her then ... .

Now, sharp as the Sight, the picture came to her mind, Lancelet walking in the courtyard, alone, his face empty with loneliness and frustration ... I have not used the Sight nor my own magic to draw him to me in selfish purpose ... if came to me unsought ... .

Silently, moving quietly so as not to waken the younger girl, she freed herself from Elaine's arm, slid gently from the bed. She had taken off only her shoes; she stooped now to draw them on, then silently went from the room, moving as noiselessly as a wraith from Avalon.