Marion Bradley - The Mists of Avalon

"Elaine, my lady, and I am thirteen years old." She dropped a deep curtsey, so deep that she stumbled and Lancelet caught her to steady her. She blushed deeply and hid her face behind her veil. Lancelet smiled indulgently, and Morgaine felt a sickening pang of jealousy. He would not look at her, he would look only at these pale gold-white angels; no doubt he too thought her little and ugly. And at that moment all her kindness for Gwenhwyfar faded into anger, and she had to turn her face away.

Gwenhwyfar had to spend the next hours welcoming, it seemed, every king in the whole of Britain, and being presented to their wives, sisters, and daughters. When it came time to sit at the feast, in addition to Morgaine and Elaine and Igraine and Morgause, she had to show courtesy and graciousness to Flavilla, Arthur's foster-mother and mother of Sir Cai; to the queen of North Wales, who had her own name, Gwenhwyfar, but was dark and Roman-looking; and to half a dozen others. She whispered to Morgaine, "I do not know how I am ever to remember all their names! Shall I simply call them all 'my lady' and hope they don't know why?"

Morgaine whispered back, momentarily sharing the sense of fun in her voice, "That is one thing about being a High Queen, madam, no one will dare to ask you why! Whatever you do, they will think it well done! Or if they do not, they will not dare to tell you so!"

Gwenhwyfar giggled a little. "But you must call me by my name, Morgaine-not just madam. When you say madam, I look about for some stout old lady like Dame Flavilla, or King Pellinore's queen!"

At last the feast began. Morgaine had more appetite now than she had had at Arthur's crowning. She sat between Gwenhwyfar and Igraine, and ate with a good appetite; the abstemious ways of Avalon seemed far behind her. She even ate some meat, though she did not like it, and, since there was no water on the table and beer mostly for the servants, drank the wine she really disliked. It made her head swim a little, though it was not as fiery as the strong barley liquors common at the court of Orkney, which she hated and never touched.

After a time Kevin came forward to play, and the conversation died. Morgaine, who had not heard a fine harper since leaving Avalon, listened, letting the past slip away. Suddenly she longed for Viviane. Even when she raised her eyes and saw Lancelet-who, as Arthur's closest Companion, sat nearer to him than any other, even Gawaine his heir, and shared his dish -she thought of him only as the companion of those years at the Lake.

Viviane, not Igraine, is my real mother, and it was for her I cried out ... . She bent her head, blinking back tears she did not know how to shed.

The music died away, and she heard Kevin's rich voice. "We have another musician here," he said. "Will the lady Morgaine sing for this company?"

How, she wondered, did he know I was pining for the touch of my harp? "It will be a pleasure to play your harp, sir. But I have not touched a fine one for many years, only a makeshift at Lot's court."

Arthur said, and sounded ill-pleased, "What, my sister, sing like a hired musician for all these people?"

Kevin looked offended, as well he might, thought Morgaine. In a sudden rage, she rose from her seat, saying, "What the Master Harper of Avalon condescends to do, I am honored to do! In music, the Gods only are served!" She took the harp from his hand, seating herself on a bench. It was larger than her own harp and for a moment her hands fumbled on the strings; then she found the set and her hands moved more surely, playing a northern song she had heard at Lot's court. She was suddenly grateful for the wine that had cleared her throat; she heard her own voice rich and sweet -it had come back as strong as ever, though she had not recognized it till this moment. Her voice was contralto, deep and strong, trained by the bards at Avalon, and she was proud, again. Gwenhwyfar may be beautiful, but I have the voice of a bard.

And even Gwenhwyfar crowded close when she was done, to say, "Your voice is very lovely, sister. Did you learn to sing so well in Avalon?"

"Why yes, madam, music is sacred-did you not learn the harp in your nunnery?"

Gwenhwyfar shrank. "No, it is unseemly for a woman to raise her voice before the Lord ... ."

Morgaine chuckled. "You Christians are overfond of that word unseemly, especially when it relates to women," she said. "If music is evil, then it is evil for men as well; and if it is a good thing, should not women do all the good things they can do, to make up for their supposed sin at the beginning of the world?"

"Still, I would not have been allowed-once I was beaten for touching a harp," said Gwenhwyfar wistfully. "But you have cast a spell over us, and I cannot think but this magic is good."

Kevin said, "All the men and women of Avalon learn something of music; but few have such gifts as the lady Morgaine. A fine voice is born, not trained. And if it is a gift of God, then seems it to me that it is arrogant to look down and think little of such a gift, be it given to man or woman. We cannot believe God has made a mistake in giving such a gift to a woman, since God makes no mistakes, so we must accept it wherever it is found."

"I cannot argue theology with a Druid," said Ectorius, "but if I had a daughter born with such a gift, I would hold it a temptation, that she would be tempted to step beyond the place appointed to a woman. We are not told that Mary, the Mother of our Lord, sang or danced-"

The Merlin said softly, "Though we are told that when the Holy Ghost descended upon her, she lifted up her voice and sang, My soul hath magnified the Lord ..." But he said it in Greek: Megalynei he psyche1 mou ton Kyrion ... .

Only Ectorius and Lancelet and the bishop recognized the Greek words, although Morgaine too had heard them more than once. The bishop said firmly, "But she sang in the presence of God alone. Only Mary the Magdalene is said to have sung or danced before men, and only before our Redeemer saved her soul for God, for it was part of her wicked ways."

Igraine said with a flicker of mischief, "King David was a singer and played, we are told, upon the harp. Do you suppose he beat any of his wives or daughters for playing on the harp?"

Morgaine flashed, "If Mary of Magdala-I mind the story-played on the harp and danced, still she came to be saved, and we are nowhere told that Jesus told her to sit meekly and be silent! If she poured precious balm on the head of Jesus and he would not let his Companions rebuke her, he may well have enjoyed her other gifts as well! The Gods give of their best, not their worst, to men!"

Patricius said stiffly, "If this is the form of religion which is known here in Britain, we are well in need of such councils as our church has called together!" He scowled, and Morgaine, already regretting her hasty words, lowered her head-it was hardly suitable to pick a quarrel between Avalon and the church at Arthur's wedding. But why did Arthur not speak out? All at once everyone began to talk all together, and Kevin, taking the harp again, began to play a lively air, under cover of which the servants went around with fresh delicacies which nobody wanted by now.

After a time Kevin put by the harp, and Morgaine, as she would have done in Avalon, poured him wine and knelt to offer it to him. He smiled and took it, gesturing to her to rise and sit by him.

"Lady Morgaine, my thanks."

"It is my duty and my pleasure to serve such a bard, Master Harper. Are you recently come from Avalon? Is my kinswoman Viviane well?"

"Well, but much aged," he said quietly. "And, I think, pining for you -you should return."

Morgaine felt again the surge of unforgotten despair; she looked away from him. "I cannot. But give me news of my home."

"If you wish more news of Avalon you will have to go there. I have not returned myself for a year, since I am required to give news of all the kingdom to the Lady-Taliesin is too old now for a Messenger of the Gods."