Marion Bradley - The Mists of Avalon

"But as I told you, I knew not that I came here," said Lancelet. "I sought to reach Ynis Witrin and the Isle of the Priests, for I heard a rumor of a magical brightness which comes and goes in the church there, and they have renamed their Well, I have heard, the Well of the Chalice-I thought perhaps Galahad rode this way. Another old habit brought me here."

She asked him seriously then, face to face, "What do you think of this quest, Lancelet?"

"I know not, truly, cousin," said Lancelet. "When I took this quest on me, I went as once I went to kill old Pellinore's dragon-do you remember that, Morgaine? None of us believed in it then, and yet I did in the end find that dragon and slay it. Yet I know that something, something of great holiness, came into Camelot that day we saw the Grail." And when she would have spoken, he said vehemently, "No, tell me not that I imagined it, Morgaine-you were not there, you do not know what it was like! For the first time, I felt that there was a Mystery somewhere which was beyond this life. And so I went on this quest, though half of me felt it was mad -and I rode awhile with Galahad, and it seemed that his faith mocked mine, because he was so pure and his faith so simple and good, and I was old and stained-" Lancelet stared down at the floor, and she saw him swallow hard. "That is why, in the end, I parted from him, lest I damage that shining faith ... and then I know not where I went, for the fog came down over my mind, and the darkness, and it seemed that Galahad must-must know all the sins of my life and he must despise me for them."

His voice had risen in excitement, and for a moment Morgaine saw the unhealthy brightness returning to his eyes, as she had seen it in the naked man running in the forest. She said quickly, "Don't think of that time, my dear. It is over."

He drew a long, shuddering breath and she saw his eyes fade. "My quest now is to seek Galahad. I know not what he saw-an angel maybe -or why the call of the Grail came so strongly to some and so little to others. Of all the knights, I think only Mordred saw nothing, or if he did he kept it to himself."

My son was reared at Avalon; he would not have been deceived by the magic of the Goddess, Morgaine thought, and was about to speak and tell Lancelet what he had seen-he had been, in youth, an initiate of Avalon and he should not be allowed to think of it as some mystery of the Christians. But, hearing again that strange note in Lancelet's voice, she bent her head and said nothing. The Goddess had given him a vision of comfort; it was not for her to destroy it with a word.

She had sought this, she had worked for it. Arthur had forsaken the Goddess, and the Goddess had scattered his fellowship with a wind blowing from her holy place. And the final irony was this: that her holiest of visions should inspire the most passionate legend of Christian worship. Morgaine said at last, reaching out her hand to him, "Sometimes I believe, Lancelet, that it does not matter what we do. The Gods move us as they will, whatever it is that we think that we are doing. We are no more than their pawns."

"If I believed that," said Lancelet, "I should go mad once and for all."

Morgaine smiled sadly and said, "And if I did not believe it, I should perhaps go mad. I must believe that I had no power to do other than I have done."

... must believe that I never had a choice ... a choice to refuse the king-making, a choice to destroy Mordred unborn, a choice to refuse when Arthur gave me to Uriens, a choice to hold back my hand from the death of Avalloch, a choice to keep Accolon at my side ... a choice to spare Kevin Harper a traitor's death, and Nimue ...

Lancelet said, "And I must believe that man has the power to know the right, to choose between good and evil and know that his choice has made a difference ... "

"Oh, aye," Morgaine said, "if he knows what good is. But does it not seem to you, cousin, that ever, in this world, evil wears the face of good? Sometimes I feel it is the Goddess who makes the wrong appear the right, and the only thing we can do-"

"Why then, the Goddess would be just such a fiend as the priests say she is," said Lancelet.

"Lancelet," she said, leaning forward to plead with him, "never blame yourself. You did what you must! Believe only that it was your fate and ordained-"

"No, or I should slay myself at once, so that the Goddess could not make use of me to bring about more evil," said Lancelet vehemently. "Morgaine, you have the Sight, and I cannot-I cannot believe it is God's will that Arthur and his court shall fall into Mordred's hands! I told you I came hither because my mind played tricks on me. Without thinking, I called the Avalon barge to me and came here, but now, I think, perhaps I wrought better than I knew. You, who have the Sight, can look within the mirror and see for me where Galahad has gone! I will even brave his anger and demand that he leave this quest and return to Camelot-"

The ground seemed to quiver beneath Morgaine's feet. Once she had stepped unwary into a patch of quicksand and had felt the mud shiver and slip sidewise; it was like that, as if she must throw herself at once to safe ground... she heard herself say, as if very far away, "You will indeed return to Camelot with your son, Lancelet-" and wondered why the cold seemed to suck at her very vitals. "I will look into the mirror for you, kinsman. But I know Galahad not, I may not see anything which is of use to you."

"Yet tell me you will do what you can," Lancelet pleaded, and she said, "I have told you I will look into the mirror. But it will be with us as the Goddess wills. Come."

The sun was high now, and as they walked down the hill toward the Sacred Well, a raven croaked once overhead. Lancelet crossed himself against the evil omen, but Morgaine looked up and said, "What did you say, sister?"

Raven's voice said in her mind, Be not afraid. Mordred will not kill Galahad. And Arthur will kill Mordred.

She said aloud, "Arthur will be King Stag still ... ."

Lancelet turned and stared at her. "What did you say, Morgaine?"

Raven said in her mind, Not to the Holy Well, but to the chapel, and now. It is the time ordained.

Lancelet asked, "Where are we going? Have I forgotten the way to the Holy Well?" and Morgaine, raising her head, realized that her steps had brought them, not to the Well, but to the little chapel where the ancient Christian brotherhood held their services. They said it had been built by the brotherhood when the ancient Joseph had thrust his staff into the ground on the hill called Wearyall. She put out her hand and took a sprig of the Holy Thorn; it pricked her finger to the bone, and hardly knowing what she did, she put out her hand and marked Lancelet's forehead with the streak of blood.

He looked at her, startled. She could hear the priests singing softly, Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison. She went in quietly and knelt down to her own surprise. The chapel was filled with mist, and it seemed to Morgaine that through the mist she could see that other chapel, the one on Ynis Witrin, and hear both sets of voices singing ... Kyrie eleison ... and there were women's voices too; yes, this must be on Ynis Witrin, for in the chapel on Avalon there were no women, these must be the nuns in the convent there. It seemed for a moment that Igraine knelt beside her and she heard her voice, clear and soft, singing Christe eleison. The priest was at the altar, and then it seemed to her as if Nimue was there, her golden hair hanging down her back, fair and lovely as Gwenhywfar had been when she was a young maiden in the convent. But instead of the old jealous fury, Morgaine looked on her with the purest love for her beauty ... the mists thickened; she could hardly see Lancelet kneeling at her side, but before her, kneeling at the altar in the other chapel, she could see Galahad with his face raised, shining, and on it was the reflected brightness ... and she knew that he, too, saw through the mists, into the chapel here on Avalon, where the Grail stood ... .