Stephen Lawhead - Grail

'It is Arthur,' said Bors. 'He is alive.'

The Pendragon came to the edge of the clearing and stood regarding us silently. His clothes were ripped and torn – as if he had been dragged through the wood by horses. His face was lined with fatigue; he looked haggard and old. His right cheek was discoloured with an ugly bruise, but he held himself erect, head high.

'Arthur!' I shouted. 'Here! Join us!'

The king made no reply, but turned and stepped aside; only then did I notice that his hands were bound with chains. Llenlleawg, spear in hand, advanced directly behind Arthur with Morgaws at his side. I could also see Myrddin and Gwenhwyvar, with Rhys and Peredur coming up behind Llenlleawg; their hands were chained also, and they stood with their heads down. Their clothes, too, were ragged and bloodstained, and they wore the look of warriors who knew the battle was lost and their lives were swiftly approaching a bloody, wretched end.

At a nod from Llenlleawg, Arthur turned once more to address us. He called us by name, and said, 'You have fought well, my friends. But the battle is lost. It is time to surrender.'

'Is it really the Pendragon?' whispered Gereint uncertainly.

'Never!' declared Bors. The true Arthur has never so much as breathed a word of surrender, and never will.' Raising a hand to his mouth, Bors shouted, 'Take your words of surrender to hell with you! We are Pendragon's men, sworn before God to guard the Grail. We will not stand down for anyone.'

The Pendragon, humble and sorrowful, appealed to him, saying, 'Bors, old friend, do as I say. You have pledged loyalty to me, whether in victory or defeat. It is time to end this battle.'

'In God's name, Arthur,' Bors cried, 'what have they done to you? Join us, lord, and fight them! We will go down together!'

Ignoring this outburst, the king continued calmly. They have come for Caledvwlch and the Grail. The fighting can stop, but you must do as I say and bring the sword and cup.'

Bitterness and bleak desperation welled up inside me. I had known defeat before, but never like this. Never! This… this ignoble submission was not worthy of the Pendragon I knew. Myrddin would have moved Heaven and Earth before giving in, and even the least of the Cymbrogi would have fought to the last dying breath rather than be party to such a shameful capitulation.

I stared across the clearing as across a great divide; my king stood on one side, and I on the other. Could I defy my king and continue the fight? Or must I obey him, even to my shame and degradation?

See, now: one who has never served a True Lord, nor vowed loyalty through all things to the end of life, cannot know what it is to behold that lord defeated by wicked enemies, humiliated, and disgraced. Those who know nothing of honour cannot comprehend the pain of dishonour. I tell you the truth, it is a pain worse than death, and it does not end.

Thus, I stood staring at Arthur, his head bowed in defeat, and the tears came to my eyes. I could not stand the sight and I had to turn away.

'The fighting can end,' the Pendragon repeated, his voice broken and weary. 'Bring the Grail. Give it up.'

Bors' face clenched like a fist, and his refusal was anvil hard. 'Never!' he cried, shaking with rage. Taking Caledvwlch from Gereint, he flourished it, shouting, 'To get the Grail, you will have to pry this blade from my dead hands.'

It might have been a trick of the light, but I thought I saw the merest shadow of a smile flicker across Arthur's face as he received Bors' reply. Turning towards Morgaws, he made a gesture with his hands – as much as to say, Well, I tried – and Llenlleawg prodded him aside into line with the butt of his spear.

The Irish champion took hold of Myrddin and dragged him forth. But Morgaws, impatient with Arthur's feeble efforts at persuasion, stepped out from among the enemy warriors. Flame-haired, features ablaze like a torch with hate and triumph and spite all mingled together in her wild expression, she was both terrible and magnificent. The flames of her passion had given her a fearful, feral beauty, like that of a ravening she-wolf leaping to the kill, or lightning striking from a storm-fraught sky. Her smooth white brow fierce, fiery hair streaming from her temples, lips drawn back in a malevolent smile of rage and dominion, she appeared a goddess of destruction – the fearsome Morrighan of the old tales could not have been more appalling in aspect and allure.

'The cup! Give me the cup!' Morgaws cried in a voice swollen with exultation. Long gone was the maid I had found wandering lost in the wood that day; like everything else about her, the mute innocent was a lie, too.

I watched Morgaws now, and remembered our first meeting. I had stepped from among the trees and there she was, sitting on the ground, her carefully gathered mushrooms scattered around her. She had tripped and fallen, spilling her harvest. I helped her retrieve them, as I recall. Peredur and Tallaght were with me, and we had simply stumbled upon her, alone and lost… Ah, no, no, it was not that way at all. It was the song – the song led us to her. She had been singing and we heard it and followed, and that was how it began.

Had I not been so beguiled, I might have stopped long enough to wonder how it was that a maid who could sing yet lacked the power of speech. Alas, I was deceived like all the rest. I hung my head and asked Jesu to forgive my blindness.

As if in answer to my reproachful thoughts, I heard again the song that I had heard that summer day in the wood. Glancing up, I saw Morgaws standing before me, the song still fresh on her lips. She smiled and I knew at once that I had judged her far too harshly.

'Do not think ill of me, Brave Gwalchavad,' she said in a voice both soft and low. She stepped closer. 'I am just like you. I, too, have suffered at Morgian's hands.'

It was true, I thought. Like all the rest of us, she was caught in Wicked Morgian's designs. And like everyone else, she had suffered for it. A pang of genuine regret speared my heart, and I opened my mouth to express my sorrow at her distress.

But Morgaws prevented me. 'Say nothing,' she whispered, placing her fingertips against my mouth. 'It is over, my love. We can forget the pain and hardship, and begin again. We must make a new start, and we can. You do believe me, Gwalchavad. We can show the others, the doubters. We can show them, you and I.'

She smiled again and the last particle of doubt melted away in the bright sun of her smile. She looked at me and I saw nothing but love in her eyes. 'Come with me, Gwalchavad. Come away with me, my love. We can be together, you and I. Together always.'

Oh, I did believe her. And I so wanted the travail to end. In that moment I think I would have done anything she asked. 'Come, bring me the Grail, my love. You do not need to guard it anymore. Bring it to me, and we can begin anew.'

When I hesitated, she urged me on, saying, 'I want you, my love. Is the cup inside?' She glanced at the chapel expectantly. 'Go get it, Gwalchavad. Bring the cup to me. Hurry! Then we can leave this place forever.'

I heard Bors raise a protest behind me, but I could not hear what he said. It did not matter. Morgaws, beautiful and yielding, stood before me, and desire was in her eyes. 'Come to me, my love,' she said, extending her hands to embrace me. I looked at those long, lovely arms – so fine and shapely and inviting – and lust leapt like a flame within me. I looked at her rounded hips and breasts and I wanted her. I ached to hold her in my arms and to take her.

In that instant the watching world disappeared – the enemy host with its rank on rank of baleful-eyed warriors, my friends and comrades, the chapel and surrounding forest – everything vanished in the white heat of my ardour and was instantly forgotten. It was as if a dull, thick fog descended over the world, blotting out everything but Morgaws and my aching need; nothing else existed, nothing else mattered. Only Morgaws and I remained, only we two, a man and a woman. One look at the hunger burning in her eyes, and I knew she wanted me as much as I wanted her.