Marion Bradley - The Mists of Avalon

"Yes," he said, leaning back wearily in his chair, "but I swear to you that I knew not what was planned by Bishop Patricius or by the Merlin. I knew that Kevin had brought here the Holy Regalia from Avalon." He laid a hand on his sword. "I was given the sword at my crowning, and now it has been given to the service of this kingdom and of Christ. It seemed to me, as the Merlin said, that the holiest of Mysteries of the ancient world should be put to the service of God, since all the Gods are one, as Taliesin always told us. In the old days the Druids called their God by other names, but these things belonged to God and should be given to him. Yet I know not what happened in the hall this day."

"You know not? You? Does it not seem to you that we beheld a true miracle, that God himself came before us to show that the Holy Grail should be reclaimed for his service?"

"At times, I think so," said Arthur, slowly, "and then I wonder ... was it not the magic of the Merlin which enchanted us, so that we should see a vision and think thus? For now are my Companions gone forth from me, and who knows whether they shall ever return?" He raised his face to her; she noticed, as from very far away, that his eyebrows were all white now, and that his fair hair was liberally silvered.

He said, "Knew you not that Morgaine was here?"

"Morgaine?" Gwenhwyfar shook her head. "No, I knew it not ... why came she not to greet us?"

He smiled, "You ask that? She left our court under my great displeasure." His lips tightened and again his hand sought the hilt of Excalibur, as if to reassure himself that still it lay at his side. It hung now in a leather scabbard, a coarse and ugly thing; she had never dared to ask him what had become of the one Morgaine had made for him so many years ago, but now she guessed that was behind their quarrel.

"You knew it not-that she had rebelled against me. She would have put her paramour Accolon on the throne in my place ... "

Gwenhwyfar had thought she would never again feel wrath at any living creature after the day's joyous vision; even now, what she mostly felt was pity for Morgaine, and pity too for Arthur, knowing how he had loved and trusted the sister who had betrayed him. "Why did you not tell me that? I never trusted her."

"That is why," said Arthur, pressing her hand. "I thought I could not bear it, to hear you say how you trusted her never, and how you had often warned me against her. But Morgaine was here this day, in the guise of an old peasant woman. She looked old, Gwenhwyfar, old and harmless and sick. I think that she had come in disguise for another look, perhaps, at that place where once she had held high state, and perhaps for another glimpse of her son ... . She looked older than our mother looked when she died ... " and he was silent, reckoning for a moment on his fingers, and saying at last, "Why, and so she is, as I am older than my father ever was, my Gwenhwyfar. ... I think not that Morgaine came to do mischief, and if she did, why, for sure it was prevented by the holy vision .. ." and he was silent. Gwenhwyfar knew, with her sure instinct, that he did not want to say aloud that he loved Morgaine still and that he missed her.

As the years pass there are so many things I cannot say to Arthur, or he to me ... but at least we both spoke today of Lancelet and of the love that was among us all. And it seemed to her for the moment that this love was the greatest truth in her life, and that love could never be weighed out or measured, so much for this one and so much for that, but was an endless and eternal flow, that the more she loved, the more love she had to give, as she gave it now to everyone, as it had been given her by her vision.

Even toward the Merlin, today, she felt that flow of warmth and tenderness. "Look how Kevin struggles with his harp. Shall I send someone to help him, Arthur?"

Arthur smiled and said, "He needs it not, for Nimue is ministering to him, see?"

And again she felt the flood of love, this time for Lancelet's daughter and Elaine's-child to two of those she had loved best. Nimue's hand under the Merlin's arm ... like the old tale of the maiden who fell in love with a wild beast from the depths of the forest! Ah, but today she even felt love for the Merlin too, and was glad that he had Nimue's strong young hands to help him.

AND AS THE DAYS passed in the near-empty court at Camelot, Nimue came to seem more and more like the daughter she had never had. The girl listened with attentive courtesy when she spoke, flattered her subtly, was ever quick to wait upon her hand and foot. Only in one thing did Nimue displease Gwenhwyfar-she spent far too much time listening to the Merlin.

"He may now call himself Christian, child," the Queen warned, "but at heart he is an old pagan, sworn by the barbaric rites of the Druids, which you have renounced ... you can see still the serpents he wears on his wrists!"

Nimue stroked her own satiny wrists. "Why, so does Arthur," she said gently, "and I too might have worn them, cousin, had I not seen the great light. He is a wise man, and there is no man in all Britain who can play more sweetly upon the harp."

"And there is the bond of Avalon to bind you," said Gwenhwyfar, a little more sharply than she intended.

"No, no," said Nimue, "I beg of you, cousin, say this never to him. He did not see my face at Avalon, he knows me not, and I do not wish him to think me an apostate from that faith to this ... ."

She looked so troubled that Gwenhwyfar said lovingly, "Why, if you wish, I will not tell him. I have not told even Arthur that you came to us from Avalon."

"And I am so fond of music, and of the harp," Nimue pleaded. "May I not speak with him?"

Gwenhwyfar smiled indulgently. "Your father, too, was a fine musician-once he said that his mother had set a harp in his hand for a plaything before he was old enough even to hold a toy sword, and taught him to touch the strings. I would like Merlin the better if he stayed with his harp and sought not to be one of Arthur's councillors." Then she shuddered and said, "To me the man is a monster!"

Nimue said patiently, "I am sorry to see you so against him, cousin. It is not his doing-I am sure he would rather be as handsome as my father and as strong as Gareth!"

Gwenhwyfar bent her head. "I know it is not charitable of me ... but from childhood I have had a revulsion for those who are so misshapen. I am not sure it was not the sight of Kevin which caused me to miscarry when last I had a chance to bear a son. And if God is good, does it not follow that what comes from God must be beautiful and perfect, and what is ugly and misshapen must be the work of the foul fiend?"

"No," said Nimue, "it seems not at all likely to me. God himself sent trials to the folk in Holy Writ, for he afflicted Job with leprosy and boils, and he caused Jonah to be swallowed up by a great fish. And again and again we are told he made his chosen people to suffer, and even Christ himself suffered. One might say that these people suffer because it is the will of God that they shall suffer more than others. It may be that Kevin suffers this affliction for some great sin he did in some life before this one."

"Bishop Patricius tells us that is a heathen notion and no Christian should believe that abominable lie-that we are born and reborn again. Or how should we ever go to Heaven?"

Nimue smiled, remembering Morgaine saying to her, Never speak to me again of anything Father Griffin said to you. She thought she would like to say it now to Gwenhwyfar, but she kept her voice gentle.

"Oh no, cousin, for even in Holy Scripture, it is told how men asked of John the Baptizer who he was. Some men said that Jesus Christ was Elijah come again, and he said instead, I tell you that Elijah has come among you already and ye knew him not. And men knew-so it says in Holy Writ- that he spoke of John. And so, if Christ himself believed that men were reborn, how can it be wrong for mankind so to believe?"