Marion Bradley - The Mists of Avalon

"I swear it! Ah, I cannot bear-I cannot-let me-" "Wait! You swear it! You are mine! Say it!"

"I swear, I swear by my soul-"

"Yet a third time-you are mine-"

"I am yours! I swear!" And she felt his sudden spasm of fear, knowing what had happened, but now he was in the grip of his own frenzy, moving on her as if despairing, heaving and gasping, crying out as if in unendurable agony, and she felt the magical spell descending on her at the very moment of slack tide, as he cried out and fell heavily on her unresisting body, and she felt the spurting of his seed within her. He was still as death, and she trembled, feeling her breath charged as if with exhaustion. There was none of the pleasure she had heard spoken of, but there was something greater than pleasure-a vast triumph. For the spell was heavy around them both, and she had his spirit and soul and essence. She felt with her hands his sperm that had mingled with the blood of her virginity at the very moment of the moon's turning. She took it on her fingers and marked his brow, and at the touch the spell came on him and he sat up, slack and lifeless.

"Kevin," she said. "Get to your horse and ride."

He rose, his movements leaden. He turned toward the horse and she knew that with this spell she must be precise.

"Garb yourself first," she said, and mechanically he drew on his robe, tying it about his waist. He moved stiffly, and by starlight she saw the gleam of his eyes; he knew, now, behind the domination of the spell, that she had betrayed him. Her throat tightened with agony and a wild tenderness, she wanted to pull him down again and take away the spell and cover his broken face with kisses, and weep and weep for the betrayal of their love.

But I too am sworn and it is fate.

She covered herself with her robe and took her horse and they rode silently away, taking the road to Avalon. At dawn Morgaine would have the boat waiting for them on the shore.

SOME HOURS BEFORE DAWN, Morgaine waked from restless sleep, sensing that Nimue's work was done. Silently she robed herself, wakening Niniane and the attendant priestesses, who came slowly in her train down to the shore, wrapped in their dark robes and spotted deerskin tunics, hair braided in the single braid down their backs, and the black-handled sickle knives tied at their waists. They waited, silent, Niniane and Morgaine at their head, and as the sky began to flush pale pink with the first light, she motioned to the barge to cast off and watched it disappear in the mists.

They waited. The light strengthened, and just as the sun was rising, the boat appeared out of the mists again. Morgaine could see Nimue standing in the prow of the boat, her cloak pulled over her head, tall and straight; but her face was hidden in the darkness of the cloak. There was a slumped heap in the bottom of the boat.

What has she done to him? Is he dead or enspelled? Morgaine found herself wishing that indeed he was dead, that he had taken his life in despair or terror. Twice she had raged at this man and called him traitor to Avalon, and the third time he had truly been traitor beyond question, taking the Holy Regalia forth from their hiding place. Oh, yes, he deserved death, even such a death as he should this morning die. She had spoken with the Druids, and they had agreed, one and all, that he should die in the oak grove, and that he should not die the swift death of mercy. Treachery of this sort had not been known in all of Britain since the days of Eilan, who had secretly married a son of the Roman proconsul and put forth pretended oracles to keep the Tribes from rising against the Romans. Eilan had died in the fire, and three of her priestesses with her and Kevin's deed was not treachery alone, but blasphemy, as when Eilan had meddled with the voice of the Goddess. And it must be punished.

Two of the barge crew helped the Merlin to his feet. He was half-clad, his robe loosely tied around him, barely concealing his nakedness. His hair was disheveled, his face blank ... drugged or enchanted? He tried to walk, but without his sticks he reeled and caught for balance at the nearest support. Nimue stood frozen, not looking at him, her face still hidden in her cloak; but as the first rays of the sun arose, she put back the hood, and at that moment, touched by the first sunlight, the enchantment slid off Kevin's face, and Morgaine saw startled comprehension come into his eyes; he knew where he was and what had happened.

Morgaine saw him look at Nimue, blinking at the sight of the Avalon barge. And then all at once the whole knowledge of his betrayal came over his face, and he lowered his head in shock and shame.

So now he knows not only what it is to betray but to be betrayed.

But then she looked at Nimue. The girl was pale, her face bloodless, her long hair in disarray, though she had hastily tried to braid it. Nimue was looking at Kevin, and her lips trembled as she hastily turned her eyes away again.

She loved him, too; the spell rebounded on her. I should have known, Morgaine thought, that so powerful a spell would have rebounded on its maker.

But Nimue bowed low as Avalon custom demanded.

"Lady and Mother," she said, her voice toneless, "I have brought you the traitor who betrayed the Holy Regalia."

Morgaine stepped forward and embraced the girl, who shrank from the embrace. She said, "Welcome back to us, Nimue, priestess, sister," and kissed the girl on her wet cheek. She could feel Nimue's misery through her whole body. Ah, Goddess, has this destroyed her too? If so, we have bought Kevin's life at too dear a price.

"Go now, Nimue," she added in compassion. "Let them take you back to the House of Maidens-your work is done. You need not witness what must come after this, you have done your part and you have suffered enough."

Nimue whispered, "What will become of-of him?"

Morgaine held her tight. "Child, child, that need concern you not. You have done your part with strength and courage, it is enough."

Nimue caught her breath as if she would weep, but she did not. She looked at Kevin, but he did not meet her eyes, and at last, shivering so hard she could hardly walk, she let two of the priestesses lead her away. Morgaine said in a low voice to them, "Don't torment her with questions. Done is done. Let her be."

When Nimue was gone, Morgaine turned back to Kevin. She met his eyes, and pain struck at her. This man had been her lover, but he had been more; he had been the only man who had never sought to entangle her in any political maneuvers, never sought to use her birth or high position, never asked anything of her save love. He had called her alive out of hell in Tintagel, he had come to her as the God, he had been perhaps her only friend, man or woman, in her entire life.

She forced her words through the tremendous pain in her throat. "Well, Kevin Harper, false Merlin, forsworn Messenger, have you anything to say to her before you meet her judgment?"

Kevin shook his head. "Nothing that you would consider important, Lady of the Lake." She remembered, through a haze of pain, that he had been the first to yield to her this title.

"Be it so," she said, and felt her face like stone. "Take him forth to judgment."

He took a single faltering step between his captors, then turned back and faced her, his head thrown back in defiance. "No, wait," he said. "I find I have a thing to say to you after all, Morgaine of Avalon. I told you once that my life was a small thing to forfeit for the Goddess, and I want you to know it is for her that I have done this."

"Are you saying it is for the sake of the Goddess that you betrayed the Holy Regalia into the hands of the priests?" Niniane demanded, and her voice cut with scorn. "Why then, you are mad as well as forsworn! Take the traitor away!" she commanded, but Morgaine signalled to them to wait.