Chapter 9
Gwyneth and Galahad said nothing as they walked toward his apartments. Gwyneth could feel the electricity of the news traveling like a wildfire through the Court. The instant Galahad closed the door, Gwyneth whirled and leaned close to him, “We have to get out of here quickly before Guenevere retaliates. May I have your permission to use magic?”
He nodded.
In an instant, they and their entire entourage, were riding on a trail, miles from Camelot. No one spoke of what had happened. Gwyneth had cast a spell to make sure that no one but she and Galahad remembered the magical departure from Court.
Later in the day, Gwyneth received a Fairy messenger from Nimue requesting Gwyneth to meet her at their special place beneath the lake. Gwyneth agreed. She urged her horse forward in the line and pulled up next to Galahad, saying softly, “I have to meet Nimue to plan what we must do next. I am going to try something I have never done before. I will leave my guise with you, while I go elsewhere. It should be able to function in more or less normally for day-to-day matters. Don't try to have a conversation with it beyond what would be normal for a Lord to his attendant. I will let you know when I return.”
She paused and added, “Oh, and if the guise can't function normally, put her on a stretcher and tell everyone she is overwhelmed by events and has fallen ill.” She winked, “That might be more believable than having her behave as though nothing happened.”
Galahad nodded, turning his head so she could see his face but the escorts behind could not, and whispered, “As you wish, Majesty.”
She chuckled and withdrew from her guise, flying under the cloak of invisibility to Nimue's hiding place. Nimue would not be able to come until after nightfall which gave Gwyneth several hours to ponder what she should do next. She sat staring into the fire in the grate trying to still her mind so she could focus on the most pressing issue. Her critical task was to identify which of all the critical problems she faced was the most pressing issue. But, first, she needed to quell the vortex of her emotions.
When Nimue arrived several hours later, the Fairy Queen still sat at the small table, gazing into the fire, her eyes blazing with fear, anger, hatred – and something else that had never been there before.
Nimue sat across the table from Gwyneth, and poured wine, which neither of them touched. They were silent for a while. Eventually Nimue broke the silence, “I apologize for my inappropriate giggle fit this morning.”
Gwyneth tried to look angry, but failed, “And well you should be. What got into you?”
“I couldn't help it. You walked into the room and filled it with power and decency, while standing there speaking humble words that would save Arthur's face and let your wicked sister off the hook. The irony of that was funny enough. The thing that put me over the edge was Guenevere's reaction. I think I was laughing more out of relief than anything. My dear, Guenevere is terrified of you.”
Gwyneth pondered that information for a minute and then said, “I could smell her fear, but I thought it was fear of what Arthur would do to her human guise. If she is afraid of me, that must mean she knows herself to be vulnerable somehow. We have to find out what her vulnerability is, quickly. On the other hand, like a wounded animal, she will be more dangerous than ever until we figure out how to exploit her vulnerability.”
They were quiet for a while. Gwyneth asked, “What do you suggest we do?”
Nimue said, “I think we should do several things right away. The first thing I have already done. I sent a messenger to Avalon and to the Nether Realms informing the Druid and the monarchs of what happened, so they will be warned to expect renewed attacks from Guenevere.”
Gwyneth put her head on the table and sobbed at the thought of the suffering her Fairies and the other species from the Nether World were enduring through no fault of their own. Nimue silently gazed into the fire while her daughter cried, and was grateful that Gwyneth could not see the pain on her face – the pain of a mother witnessing her beloved daughter's suffering, helpless to ease her pain.
Nimue shook off her paralyzing grief and continued, “Second, I propose to send a messenger to Viviene; I want to find out what Merlin might know about Guenevere's vulnerabilities. I can't think of what they might be, but Merlin might be able to help.” Gwyneth pulled herself together and nodded.
“Third, we need to search for Morgaine. I propose to use Warlocks. What do you think about that?”
Gwyneth thought about it. She knew that Guenevere already had retained a cohort of Warlocks in her attacks upon the Nether Realms. She wondered on which side the Warlock monarch stood. If he would cooperate, they might be able to infiltrate Guenevere's own inner circle. Gwyneth nodded. Nimue went on, “I propose to go to the Warlock monarch myself.”
Gwyneth looked puzzled, “But can you leave Excalibur – and Arthur? It seems to me they need you now more than ever.”
“I will stay in Camelot to protect Excalibur until Guenevere is safely away to her convent. I talked to Arthur today. I think he has been under some kind of enchantment for a long time. Now, he has cast it off and recovered his own power, and his innate decency.” She smiled, “I think you had something to do with that.”
Gwyneth leaned forward and turned her hands up in a pleading gesture, looking bemused, “Please explain that! What in all of Earth's Realms happened that Arthur should have noticed me and desired me in such a way?”
Nimue smiled into Gwyneth's eyes and said, “When you first came to Camelot under the guise of a household servant, you were one of hundreds of such women. However, over time, your own character began to reveal itself through your guise. Your dignity and faithfulness stood out in the cesspool that Camelot had become over the winter. Your guise carried herself with a regal bearing that rivaled and soon exceeded Guenevere's. While the rest of the inhabitants of the Court, including Arthur, were mating like goats in every corner of the palace, you and Galahad were paragons of virtue. Soon your guise was transformed into the most beautiful woman in Camelot, perhaps the most beautiful Human I have ever seen.”
Gwyneth made a face. “Calling attention to myself was the last thing I wanted to do.”
Nimue nodded, “I know, but the problem is, you are a Queen and one of the most powerful mages in any of Earth's realms. You use your power for Good, as you see it. Beauty and magic of that degree are difficult to hide.”
They were quiet for a while. Gwyneth said, “Okay, so we search for Morgaine and kill the Bastard, hopefully before he is born. We try to find out where Guenevere is vulnerable and exploit that to try to neutralize her, giving the Nether World some respite from its torment. But, nothing will change in my Realm over the long term until we get Excalibur back. How do we do that?”
Nimue looked deeply into Gwyneth's eyes and said, in the voice of prophecy that rose from the depths of her ancient Soul, “You will ask Arthur to give it to you.”
Gwyneth laughed, “And what makes you think he would do such a ridiculous thing!?”
Nimue's eyes glimmered with some deep wisdom born of experience, “Humans do crazy thing when they are in love.”
Gwyneth nodded, but did not look convinced.
Nimue went on, “Once Guenevere is gone, I think you should hasten to return to Camelot, undertaking responsibility for guarding Excalibur and Arthur. I will take over the search for Morgaine's Bastard and marshaling help from the monarchs of the Nether Realms.”
Gwyneth nodded, this time more emphatically, “In the meantime, as I travel with Galahad, I'll do the same thing I did before, making contacts with our spy network, identifying potential Human leaders and searching for Morgaine at the same time.” She paused and her eyes flashed with hatred, “And, if I find her, I will kill her and her unborn Bastard.”
Nimue stood, and said, “It would appear we have a plan.” She left quickly before Gwyneth could see her tears.
Galahad and Gwyneth cut a swath through Britain accumulating glorious accomplishments like beads on a neck
lace. Galahad slew dragons, bested evil knights, rescued damsels in distress and wiped out dozens of small bands of robbers. Gwyneth healed wounds, attended births, and assisted the unfortunate in burying the dead, offering comfort and courage in each circumstance. She taught women how to identify medicinal plants to treat common ailments. She taught children about the plants and berries to avoid in their foraging for food. Even men consulted with her not only about physical ailments but about their personal worries and their political concerns. She offered intelligent and helpful advice to every person who sought her out.
Galahad's star rose higher than Arthur's, which concerned him somewhat. It is rarely a good thing for a knight to become more popular than the King he serves! Gwyneth told Galahad not to worry about it. Galahad did all his deeds in Arthur's name, and the people of the land needed encouragement and help. Arthur would gain residual credit for their work among his subjects.
There were rumors that Arthur had decided to burn Guenevere for her adulterous affairs. Neither Galahad nor Gwyneth believed them. It was possible the rumors came from Arthur himself, because he had learned that Guenevere was hated among the people for her traitorous unfaithfulness to the king. A bard visited one of the inns where they were staying, singing a melodious tale about how Lancelot swooped in to rescue Guenevere at the last minute before the flames engulfed her. He spirited her off to a nunnery and then fled back to Normandie from whence he had come.
Before they retired, Galahad asked Gwyneth what she thought of the story, she laughed and said that she thought the whole thing had been staged, reminding him that sending Guenevere to a convent had been Arthur's plan from the beginning. This new twist had the dual benefits of getting rid of Guenevere, while restoring some confidence in Arthur's leadership and, as a side benefit, getting rid of Lancelot, whose reputation for chivalry had been destroyed by his involvement with Guenevere.
Galahad remarked, “I think Arthur may be too tender-hearted for a king. His love for the woman he thought Guenevere to be when he married her blinded him to the reality of her evil. He should have burned her!”
Gwyneth nodded, “I agree! Letting her live will only prolong the agony for everyone, in the Human Realm and beyond. Hopefully she will be buried alive in a convent far away and guarded day and night by nuns who will burn or drown her if they catch her doing magic.”
Despite Nimue's request, they did not hurry back to Camelot. Gwyneth took every opportunity she could to go out on her own, leaving her guise with Galahad's party, searching for Morgaine. After months passed with no success, Gwyneth refocused her search for newborn baby boys. They found many babies, but none who appeared to be the one they were seeking.
After several months, Arthur sent for Galahad and Gwyneth. Galahad was ready to return to Court immediately. Gwyneth hesitated.
She met with Nimue for a long time under the lake. Nimue told of Guenevere's ignoble departure from Camelot, in the company of a cohort of knights, led by Lancelot, who escorted her to a convent far away in the north country where the nuns promised to watch her every move, never to leave her alone and permit her no visitors. Neither of them had full confidence that even those drastic measures would keep Guenevere's evil at bay, but it was better than nothing.
They talked of personal things, including Gwyneth's overwhelming desire to return to the Fairy Realm. Nimue urged her not to attempt it because the evil that Guenevere had launched still tormented the Nether Realms, whether or not Guenevere was still directing it. It would be too dangerous for Gwyneth to venture there. Nimue encouraged Gwyneth to return to Camelot. “I can't leave Camelot for more than a few hours at a time until you are there to protect Excalibur. It would be safer for me to go to the Nether World than for you to go. Please return to Camelot, so I can search the Nether World for the Bastard.”
Still Gwyneth hesitated. Nimue asked, “What is wrong, my dear?”
“May I speak freely, Lady?”
A look of pain washed across Nimue's face, but she turned to Gwyneth with a bland look, “Of course, my dear.”
Gwyneth said, “Several things worry me about accepting Arthur's invitation. First, is my aversion to Humans. When I looked into Arthur's eyes at our last meeting I felt his love and I felt something stirring in me as well, but I am not sure that will be enough to overcome my anti-Human prejudices.
“Second, I have never been with a male of any species, and I am afraid.
“Related to that, I am a Fairy. If I were to become pregnant, my baby would be a Fairy. Arthur needs a Human heir. I would be a completely inappropriate Queen for him.”
Nimue pursed her lips and nodded, “I hadn't thought about that latter issue. There might be something we could do about it if we put our minds and our magic to it, but it would be risky. If we were caught using magic on Arthur's heir, it would not go well with us. I was so caught up in the idea of a monarch from the Nether World sitting on the throne in the Human realm, I did not think through all of the complications.”
Gwyneth said, “Actually, that's another thing that bothers me. If I am Queen in the Human Realm, then Arthur would be King in the Fairy Realm. The Fairies would – rightly, I think – depose me, if I married Arthur.”
“What are you thinking of doing?” Nimue looked alarmed.
Gwyneth sighed, “Did you tell him who I am?”
“Yes.”
“That's a good start. I will return to Camelot. Arthur and I will have to talk at some length about the implications of a relationship between the two of us. I have to tell you, my preference would be to be his friend and mentor. I have been a Queen for hundreds of years; I know I could help him as a mentor and teacher. It won't hurt that I could also employ my magic if necessary. Unfortunately, I doubt a Human male would ever agree to an arrangement like that. They seem to have difficulty seeing females as potential equals or advisors.
“The other possible alternative would be for me to be his consort. If I agreed to that, it would be with the understanding that we would not have children and he would be free to marry in order to produce an heir.”
Nimue nodded and said, “That makes sense. The problem is that Humans operate out of emotion more than Fairies. Mistresses are not held in especial esteem in the Human realm.”
Gwyneth giggled and said, “So I have noticed. I don't especially care what Humans think of me, and I know the Fairies would prefer that I take Arthur as a lover if I must rather than to introduce him as King of the Fairies.” They both collapsed in a mutual giggle-fit over the very suggestion of a king in the Fairy Realm.
“I will return to Camelot. If Arthur asks me to be his Queen, however, I have to tell you it is my intention to reject his offer.”
Nimue commented, “In which case, Excalibur could be in continued danger because Arthur will not want to let it come back to us as long as he might need it in battle.”
“We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I'm glad you understand my dilemma.
“First, I want to ask you a favor. I know how to make abortion potions and I know how to cast anti-conception spells on other females. I can't cast such a spell on myself. I want to know if you would cast the spell on me.”
“If Arthur knew that I was contemplating casting a contraception spell on you, he'd kill me.”
“Does that mean you won't do it?”
Nimue laughed, “Of course, I'll do it. I just want to make sure that Arthur doesn't find out.”
“Well, I'm certainly not going to tell him!”
Nimue raised her hand and closed her eyes for a moment. “There.”
“Thank you. It's better this way.”
Tears stood in Nimue's eyes. Her own experience of motherhood had been a disaster. She'd struggled with Merlin at every turn for a couple of millennia. Every mention of Guenevere's name made her wish she'd aborted the twins as Merlin had demanded. But, Gwyneth more than made up for the problem of Guenevere.
“Why are you crying?”
“I always cr
y when I am changing the course of a person's destiny. That is not something that should be undertaken lightly.”
“It's for the best.”
“I know, but I think you'd be a wonderful mother.”
“I am already a mother! I have hundreds of thousands of Fairies for whom I am responsible. …. Not to mention all the Humans and other Species whose lives will be affected by our quest to return Excalibur to its rightful home.”
Nimue turned to go, but Gwyneth held out her hand. “One more thing, if you please.”
“Anything.”
“I don't know what to do – with a male. Can you give me any advice?”
Nimue longed to take Gwyneth into her arms and rock her like a child, instead she looked into the eyes of her beloved daughter and said, “All you need to do is to forget about everything. Give yourself over to the experience. If it helps, let yourself sink more deeply into your Human guise and let her body take over. Human sex is about physical pleasure. Your guise's body will know what to do.”
“That sounds so easy.”
“It won't be easy for one such as you, who has been responsible for others for so long you have lost touch with your own desires. If you can manage to give yourself over to the experience, I think you'll find it worth the effort.”
Gwyneth held Nimue's gaze for a long time, looking up into the black eyes that reflected both love and agony. Their Souls mingled and agreed that cross-species reproduction was not wise.
Nimue hastened back to Camelot and Gwyneth returned to Galahad's entourage. She reluctantly re-entered her guise and told Galahad it was time they returned to Court.
The closer they came to Camelot, the more news they received of the events they had missed. None of the news was good. Guenevere had gone to a convent. Lancelot had returned across the sea. The Invaders from the East seized the opportunity to encroach on Arthur's kingdom. Camelot was in chaos.
Galahad was greeted as a returning hero. Gwyneth played the part of his maid, at least until the Court dinner the night after they returned. Gwyneth assembled near the kitchen with the other maids. Nimue called her aside and said, “Arthur wants you to be his guest. You are to sit beside him at dinner.”
“He's crazy.”
“As a matter of fact he is. He's crazy in love with you, or with the person he thinks you are.”
Gwyneth sniffed and made a face, “Falling in love with the woman he thought Guenevere was didn't work out so well for him. What makes him think he can do better with her twin sister?”
“Uh. Well. I, um. I told him about you being the Fairy Queen.”
“But, you neglected to mention the little detail about me being his wife's twin sister.”
“His ex-wife. They are divorced.”
“Let's not get bogged down in technicalities.”
Gwyneth sat between Arthur and Galahad at dinner. Nimue served all three of them. Galahad and Arthur seemed to be having a wonderful time. They both enjoyed Gwyneth's company, and they seemed to enjoy having her sitting at the table rather than waiting on them. Gwyneth was a Queen. She was used to associating with monarchs and other notables, so she was not intimidated by being seated next to the king. She was, however, concerned about how others in the Court might take her “promotion”.
After dinner, Arthur invited Gwyneth and Galahad to meet with him in his apartments. Nimue joined them. The four of them talked until almost dawn, sharing stories and speculating on what Guenevere might still have up her sleeve to throw at them.
Arthur asked Gwyneth for a private audience later. She demurred, saying she was tired from traveling, and requested to defer any private conversations until the following day. Arthur acquiesced to her request, but he whispered as he kissed her hand to bid her good-night, “You can't avoid me forever.”
The next morning while Arthur attended to his official audiences, Gwyneth entered the throne room, dressed not as Galahad's maid, but as befitted her station as a foreign monarch. She waited just inside the door, in the back of the crowd, where Arthur could not see her. The people of Camelot had been told she was a royal princess from a faraway land, whose family had sent her to Camelot for her safety, because of internal warfare in her country. That made her an acceptable consort for the king. The fact that she had been universally liked by the staff at Camelot and had developed a reputation for kindness throughout Britain while posing as Galahad's maid helped minimize the suspicion and intrigue that might otherwise have attended Arthur's selection of a new companion, so soon after the terrible ending of his marriage. Letting the Court know that she was a person of royal lineage would help as well. It would be important not to let anyone know of her relationship to Guenevere, much less the fact that she was a Fairy.
Gwyneth waited until all the other supplicants and messengers had finished their business with Arthur. Then she approached the High King, her royal blue cloak setting off her raven hair and alabaster skin. She stood in front of the throne, bowed low and said, “My Lord, I believe you wished to speak with me.”
“I do.”
She stood in front of him and said nothing, her eyes cast to the ground, looking demure as a maiden, and radiantly beautiful. Arthur waited for her to speak but she was silent. After a very long pause, she lifted her chin and met the king's gaze. The corner of her lip twitched and she lifted the inner corners of her eyebrows ever so slightly, and then she winked. Arthur threw back his head and laughed. Gwyneth stood smiling at Arthur, thrilled by the sound of Excalibur's joyful singing.
Arthur descended the three steps from the throne to where she stood, “Perhaps our conversation should take place in my private office.”
She smiled up into his eyes, “Perhaps it should.”
They talked for hours. She knew nearly everything there was to know about the facts of Arthur's life. He shared with her his impressions, his hopes and his dreams. He knew nothing of her life. When she told him she had reigned for more than three hundred years, he laughed and suggested that she would be a good mentor for him. They shared their lives, their imaginations floating on the stories each of them told. They laughed and, occasionally, shed tears, and they nearly drowned in each other's eyes.
Periodically servants brought food and drink. Neither of them touched the food or so much as noticed when the servants removed the untouched trays and replaced them. Late in the afternoon, they went for a ride in the countryside to get fresh air and exercise after sitting inside for so long.
“You ride as though you were born in a saddle.”
“Actually, I had never seen a horse until I came to the Human Realm. Fairies don't need such transportation, you understand.”
“How did you learn to ride so well in such a short time?”
“I don't know. I just ask the horse if it is willing to take me where I want to go. Usually the horse says yes. There are a few horses in the stable who don't seem to like me, and I avoid them. This one is my favorite. She told me her last mistress was fat. She likes me because I'm small and don't weigh much.”
Arthur said, “I don't want to know what my horse thinks of me.”
Gwyneth pulled up close and leaned over toward Arthur's magnificent roan stallion. In a minute she scratched his ear and turned to Arthur, “He adores you like everyone else does, although he's not so thrilled when you wear your armor.”
They rode and talked for more hours, ending up late for supper. They went straight into the hall, still in their riding clothes. Nimue brought them water and towels to wash the dust from their faces and hands, thinking that no court in any Realm had ever see two such glorious beings as Arthur and Gwyneth. His swarthy good looks and broad shoulders reeked of power, but the small lines around his mouth and wrinkles on his brow reflected the burdens of his responsibilities as king; the sorrow and slight mistrust in his eyes, reflected more personal tragedy. She, a dainty dark and exotic beauty, exuded not the demure frailty of the typical tiny woman, but power and authority that went beyond Arthur's warrior-strength; h
ers was the power of magic and the authority of an experienced monarch.
Arthur called for his food and ate with relish. Gwyneth looked at the table and saw little she was willing to touch. Arthur raised his eyebrows, “You don't like the food?”
She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. Nimue came out of the kitchen and set a plate of olives, nuts and fruit before Gwyneth, bowing low. Gwyneth whispered, “Thank you, my friend. I was about to expire from hunger!”
She ate her dinner, without tasting it, trying not to drown in Arthur's gaze or faint with the terror that welled up in her every time she thought about the dangerous path she was walking.
The Court was surprised that Arthur did not take Gwyneth to his apartments that night. Or the next. Or for many nights afterwards. More surprisingly, there was no talk of marriage. Word leaked out that, while they loved one another, there were complicated negotiations taking place. Most of the people at Court understood that marriage negotiations between monarchs involved extensive and intricate negotiations that might or might not bear fruit.
Gwyneth moved into apartments built and appointed especially for her. They were not the Queen's apartments; they were the apartments of the King's Consort. Soon the Court came to understand that there would be no marriage. No explanation was forthcoming from Arthur, Gwyneth or anyone close to them. While the curiosity of the Court was aroused, there was no information to fuel any gossip. Eventually the residents of Camelot accepted the relationship between Arthur and Gwyneth for what it was: a partnership that operated on multiple levels.
In the end, while the residents of Camelot, and as time went on, all of Britain would have preferred them to marry, Camelot was a happy place for the first time in years. The Knights of the Round Table regained their reputation as the King's instruments, ranging throughout Britain, battling enemies of the people and giving help wherever they could. The knights often traveled with wise women and healers who did what they could to alleviate suffering wherever they went. If Arthur's subjects couldn't have a Queen, they were glad to have a Consort of Gwyneth's beauty, talent and grace.
Years passed. The idyllic life Gwyneth led in Camelot and the peace that descended over Britain for that short time was not shared in the Nether World. The Warlocks Guenevere had unleashed on the Nether World continued to cause trouble everywhere they could. The suffering and misery of the people of the Nether World was appalling. The knowledge that her Fairies were in such torment while she lounged about Camelot eating olives and drinking wine nearly drove her mad with grief and guilt.
Guenevere was safely locked away in a nunnery, and Gwyneth's spies made sure she stayed there. The original nuns who ran the convent had been replaced by Witches who had been hand-picked by the Witch Queen to watch Guenevere's every move and prevent her from doing magic or receiving visitors. They knew she could communicate telepathically, so Gretel dispatched Fairies to try to intercept messages Guenevere might try to send. Everyone knew that as long as she lived, Guenevere would be dangerous, but she was contained as much as was possible. The Elf King wanted to kill Guenevere, but the monarchs of the Nether World feared the murder might be blamed on Gwyneth and they did not want to risk what the Humans might do to her if they expected her of killing the former queen.
Nimue traveled the Human Realm and the Nether World searching for the Bastard, and rallying the inhabitants, exhorting them to have courage and to persevere. She spent some time in the Fairy Realm, reveling in the luxury of having apartments of her own in the palace. She regaled the Fairies with stories of their Queen's conquest of the hearts of the Britons and their King. She knew how Fairies felt about Humans, but the stories were entertaining, and they seemed to enjoy hearing about their Queen's travels with Galahad more than they cared about Arthur's love for her. The Fairies were not interested in the opinions of Human men, but they did enjoy hearing tales about their Queen's adventures traveling around a strange country, helping those in need and networking with the Nether World spies. They especially enjoyed the stories of their Queen's encounters with the Black Fairy (whose name they preferred not to use). They also enjoyed the stories of her encounters with Merlin. Nimue told them as many tales as she could remember. It seemed to her to be small comfort to a Realm that had been more or less continuously under assault for years. It was all she had, however, and the Fairies appreciated the gesture.
Gwyneth was not only the Consort to the King but the temporary Guardian of Excalibur. When Arthur spent the night in her apartments, Excalibur stood in a stand by the bed. When Arthur did not come to her, he entrusted Excalibur unto her care while he slept. As Nimue had done, Gwyneth slept with the sword under her mattress for its protection. At first – recalling the time she tried to touch Excalibur in the temple under the lake – Gwyneth feared Excalibur would not let her handle it, but Nimue had explained the errand she was on, and encouraged Excalibur to accept Gwyneth's ministrations. Excalibur never greeted Gwyneth with the joyful abandon with which it greeted Nimue, but it accepted her as its temporary guardian.
Years passed. The attacks on the Nether World abated somewhat, but no one felt safe with Excalibur so far away, although the news that Nimue continued her relentless search for the Bastard and that Gwyneth cared for Excalibur was greeted with universal happiness everywhere in the Nether World.
Gwyneth's relationship with Arthur was met with mixed feelings in both the Nether World and the Human Realm.
In Britain, the Christian priests railed against the Whore of Camelot. It seemed to Gwyneth they were more angry with her because she refused to convert to their religion than because she refused to marry their King. Guenevere's supporters (who were mostly people who had never visited the Court to know of her wanton behavior) castigated Arthur for putting aside a barren wife only to take up with a barren mistress. Gwyneth always enjoyed pointing out to those people that it was precisely because of her barrenness that she refused to marry Arthur: she wanted him to keep his options open to marry a women who could give him a child. She always enjoyed the shocked looks she received for suggesting that she would encourage Arthur to marry a fertile wife.
In the Nether World, the reaction was more subtle and more complicated. The religions (to the extent they had what could be called religions) of the Nether World recognized that sometimes a “consort” arrangement was wise for a variety of reasons. There was no particular moral stigma against co-habiting under those circumstances. The monarchs of the Nether World and the Fairies, however, understood that in the Human Realm, Gwyneth was seen as little better than a whore. They resented the fact that Humans (who were looked down upon by all the species of the Nether World) would presume to question the character of such a universally respected and beloved queen. They also had their doubts about Arthur's integrity because, now that he knew of the significance of Excalibur to the safety and security of the the Nether World, and especially the Fairy Realm, Arthur made no move to return Excalibur to its rightful home. Many Nether World folk (especially the Fairies) viewed both Excalibur and Gwyneth as hostages to Arthur's ego and ambition.
There may have been some truth to that, but Truth can be complex and the biggest complexity of all was that Gwyneth and Arthur loved one another, in a very special way. She did not put aside her anti-Human prejudice completely, although living among Humans and getting to know them personally went a long way towards moderating her views, at least where some Humans were concerned. Gwyneth made an exception for Arthur. Her love drowned her prejudice, and she viewed Arthur through the lens of affection.
That did not mean she could not see Arthur objectively or that she was blind to his faults. On the contrary. Gwyneth was usually Arthur's harshest critic and the person at Court (often the only person) who was most likely to call him out when she felt he was wrong about something. Her love for him was passionate and sincere, but it was neither blind nor subservient. Arthur appreciated that, provided she reserved her critical comments to private conversations in their apartments. Gwyne
th never criticized him or questioned him in public. They often disagreed in private – sometimes loudly and vehemently. Some of Arthur's household staff who knew about those conversations thought it was very inappropriate for Gwyneth to stand up to Arthur. More people – and virtually all of the Knights of the Round table – respected both Gwyneth and Arthur for their willingness to consider various points of view.
The years passed and something as close as the Human Realm could come to peace settled over Britain. The Court at Camelot experienced a general sense of happiness and contentment. Only two unmet desires prevented Arthur and Gwyneth from enjoying utter and complete contentment: his desire for an heir and hers to return Excalibur to the Fairy Realm. Even the thorns of those frustrations became less painful as the happy years stretched out behind them.
The Round Table was once more renowned and respected everywhere in Britain, and beyond. Arthur ruled a kingdom that was united and prosperous, with few enemies remaining within and whose enemies abroad hesitated to attack such a powerful king. A number of the original Round Table knights retired, making way for younger knights to join the inner circle of Camelot. The older knights became mentors, teachers and guardians for pages and knights-in-training. Many of them had married princesses or widows of kings or lords, and, consequently, they had their own lands and estates to manage and protect. Those knights who did not quite measure up to the Round Table standards could often find places among the retainers of the Retirees.
During those halcyon years, life in Camelot was good. Arthur and Gwyneth passed their days working diligently at being good monarchs of their respective Realms. Gretel still served as Regent in the Fairy Realm, but Gwyneth assumed the helm in absentia. Those were glory days, and both Arthur and Gwyneth counted and savored each one, knowing that the peace could not last forever.
Pages and would-be knights descended on Camelot like a plague of locusts. Sir Kay and others did the best they could to find foster homes for orphans and to weed out the potential knights from those with no hope of advancing. It was a thankless and never-ending task, which Kay did – as he did everything else for Arthur – without complaint.
One late spring afternoon an entire family of would-be knights arrived unannounced. They were the sons of King Lot of Orkney, come from the far north country to test themselves against the other potential Knights of the Round Table: Agravain, Gaheris, Gareth, Gawain and Mordred. At first, Gwyneth thought they were nice boys, like so many other would-be knights. The older four were huge red-headed, freckle-faced kids who looked like the farm-boys from the Highlands. Given the remoteness of Lot's kingdom and its relative lack of prosperity, that is more or less what they were.
Mordred was different in every way from his brothers. He was a small, sparrowish boy who looked rather “bookish”. He reminded Gwyneth of one of the monks on Avalon. At first she thought he was shy, but upon closer observation, she decided he was shifty and sneaky. Gwyneth feared she was being unkind in thinking that of him. But, even her overall dim view of him could not diminish her admiration for his brilliant intellect.
Mordred was extremely well-read for someone brought up in such a remote place, but he had almost no formal education. He didn't suffer for the lack of formal instruction: Mordred assimilated information with phenomenal ease. He took advantage of the library at Camelot and also spent time with virtually every person at Court, picking their brains and learning everything there was to know about their various functions in running the Court as well as probing what they knew about the culture and geography of every place they had ever been.
In a very short time, Mordred knew more about the actual operations of Camelot than anyone, not excepting Arthur and Gwyneth, and even Kay.
Mordred did nothing to ingratiate himself with the Court. His brothers made it loudly clear they had come to Camelot to claim their places at the Round Table and to seek glory as Arthur's Knights. (Gwyneth noticed – and pointed out to Arthur – that they appeared to covet glory for themselves, not on Arthur's behalf.) Mordred held himself aloof from that kind of campaigning. When he wasn't in the library reading history and military tactics or interviewing people who worked at Camelot, he was riding. The only person in Camelot who could out-ride Mordred was Arthur, and even he knew that, given his age and sedentary life at Court, Mordred's horsemanship would overtake his very soon.
There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Mordred deserved a place at the Round Table, ahead of even his brothers, whose skills in combat were exceeded only by those of Galahad. Arthur initiated all of them into the brotherhood of the Round Table and drew Mordred into his innermost circle. Sooner than anyone would have expected, Mordred became Arthur's most trusted knight, and was a frequent ambassador to other kingdoms. He did a brilliant job in that capacity, with apparent modesty and humility.
Gwyneth's reaction to Mordred was irrational fear. She tried to hide it because she didn't think it was fair to Mordred, and it made no sense to her. When Mordred was in the room Gwyneth often felt ill with fear. Arthur often invited Mordred to sit with them at dinner, which frequently caused Gwyneth to take to her bed in fits of weeping. She could not understand why she reacted in such a way to Mordred's presence, and she fought the feelings as best she could because she knew Arthur loved and depended on Mordred. Sir Kay was old and tired; Mordred appeared to be the logical person to take over as senechal of Camelot.
The one thing that Gwyneth found most upsetting about Mordred was the way he sometimes looked at Excalibur. That frightened Gwyneth more than anything. Mordred seemed to understand something of Excalibur's power, even if he seemed ignorant of its origin and significance.
Because she knew Arthur was fond of the boy and she also knew he was the best ambassador Arthur had available, she made the biggest mistake of her life: she failed to act on her instincts, and did not mention her fears about Mordred to Arthur.
She did, however, send for Nimue, in the belief that she needed help to protect Excalibur. Nimue had never found the Bastard, who would now be an adult. Gwyneth believed him to be dead. She missed Nimue, and so did Excalibur. Gwyneth begged Nimue to return to Camelot.
Nimue came immediately. She had already given up her search for the Bastard. Things in the Nether World had calmed down greatly in recent years. There were occasional skirmishes amongst the Realms, but it was nothing out of the ordinary, and nothing that seemed to originate from an external source (i. e.: Guenevere). The various inhabitants of the Nether World were beginning to crawl out from their hiding places and attempt to resume some semblance of a “normal” life.
Nimue and Gwyneth discussed that, and Gwyneth sent messages to the monarchs exhorting them to send their people back into hiding. She did not know why or when or how, but she believed the Nether World still was not safe, and that the inhabitants should not become complacent. Until Excalibur returned to protect them, she believed the peoples of the Nether World should hide.
Nimue's reaction to Mordred was not as violent as Gwyneth's, but she didn't trust him or his brothers, all of whom she thought were trouble-makers, like everyone else she had ever known from the North Country. Nimue, too, remained silent on the subject of Mordred because, like Gwyneth, she believed she was being irrational and operating out of prejudice.
The long, peaceful idyll at Camelot was clearly nearing its end. Saxons were once again testing the boundaries of Arthur's kingdom, perhaps because Arthur was getting older and the Saxons thought he might have become soft. The kingdoms of the North were agitated as well, perhaps for the same reason as the Saxons. Worse still, from abroad came word that Lancelot had raised an army and was making a lot of crazy war-talk about punishing Arthur for his treatment of Guenevere.
It had been years since Arthur had gone into battle and both he and his army were out of shape. With the help of Mordred, Galahad and the sons of Lot, Arthur raised and trained the largest army he had ever mustered. The Knights of the Round Table drilled the troops relentlessly and whipped them i
nto a fearsome fighting force.
Craftsman all along the southern coast were conscripted to build boats. Arthur intended to take the battle to Lancelot instead of waiting for Lancelot to muster the resources to invade Britain.
When Arthur left Camelot for Normandie, he took Nimue with him as his maid and he took all the Knights of the Round Table, except for one. Arthur left Mordred behind as Regent.
Gwyneth took to her bed for days.
Arthur's victories in Normandie were quick and decisive. He vanquished Lancelot's army and, in the process, killed one of his first and most beloved and trusted knights. The night after the battle Arthur was inconsolable. He curled up on the floor of his tent and wept for hours. Nimue had never seen him in such a state, and she silently reached out her Soul and called for Gwyneth. Gwyneth appeared a few minutes later, and asked Nimue to sit in the anteroom of Arthur's chamber with Excalibur. Gwyneth held Arthur all night while he cried bitter tears for the friendship he had offered to Lancelot, which Lancelot had repaid with betrayal and treason. Arthur's response was legally and morally justified, but his affection for Lancelot left him feeling bereft and guilty at the death of his friend.
Arthur was most upset by the very fact he was so grief-stricken over killing Lancelot, who had repaid Arthur's friendship with treason. Arthur feared he was losing his courage which was a death knell for a warrior-king. Gwyneth held him in her arms cooing and soothing his body and his soul. She tried to explain to him that it was important for a warrior never to forget that taking a life – even the life of one's bitterest enemy – always carries a price, and that it should never be done lightly. Even as she spoke the words, she knew she was making excuses. While it was true that she believed that killing should never be anything other than a last resort, after all other avenues had been explored and failed, she personally had never experienced any remorse over killing an enemy.
She rationalized her advice to Arthur by thinking that she never had a friend who turned into an enemy – ignoring the little voice deep in her Soul whispering your greatest enemy is your twin sister and you know without a doubt you could kill her with your bare hands if you had the chance and you would experience not one bit of guilt, if it would bring back the peace and prosperity of the Realm for which you are responsible.
Arthur was terrified by his weakness. Gwyneth tried to console him, but her consolation rang hollow, because she, too, believed that Arthur had shown a potentially fatal flaw.
When Arthur finally went to sleep, Gwyneth went out into the anteroom and woke Nimue, who was asleep with Excalibur in her arms. Gwyneth asked Nimue to sit with Arthur, and make sure he rested well. She thought perhaps Excalibur's presence in the room would help soothe Arthur's spirit. Before Gwyneth returned to Camelot, the women agreed never to breathe a word to anyone about that night.
Gwyneth hastened back to Camelot in time for breakfast, waiting for word to come about Arthur's great victory over Lancelot. The word came a few days later, and the Court reacted strangely. On the one hand, Camelot was grateful for Arthur's victory, but the celebration was muted because almost everyone in the court loved Lancelot almost as much as they loved Arthur. There were some grumblings to the effect that the whole business of the affair between Guenevere and Lancelot could have been avoided if Arthur had better control over his wife. For the first time during his reign, people in Arthur's own Court questioned his authority.
That was the window of opportunity Mordred needed.
As Arthur's army slowly wended its way back toward the coast, Mordred made his move. During his many trips around Britain as ambassador for Arthur, Mordred had taken the additional steps of building up his own personal alliances. Before Arthur crossed the deep water between Britain and Normandy, Mordred seized the throne and declared himself King.
Gwyneth sent a silent Fairy-message to Nimue, asking her to tell Arthur he must return home immediately, then she dressed in her finest, most regal robes and marched into the throne room to confront the bastard …
Only then did it dawn on her that Mordred was “The Bastard” she had been seeking for years.
She stood in front of the throne, where Mordred slouched, issuing orders that would give him firm control of Camelot and Britain. Gwyneth had reigned in the Fairy Realm for hundreds of years and she recognized matchless administrative skills when she saw them. She listened to Mordred dictating orders and knew that, from an administrative standpoint, Mordred would make a senechal even more competent then Sir Kay. What Mordred lacked, however, was any kind of love for the greater good of the people of Britain. Arthur made every decision with his subjects in mind. Gwyneth did the same thing in her own Realm. Mordred might be a great technical administrator, but he wanted to be king out of ambition and a lust for power, not as a service to the people of his Realm.
Gwyneth said nothing, and stood waiting for Mordred to notice and recognize her. Soon she realized he knew she was there, but he was ignoring her. She continued to wait patiently before Mordred, silently demanding him to take notice of her. He continued to ignore her throughout the entire morning. When it came time for the daily audience with the king to be over, Mordred stood to leave.
Gwyneth said, “There is still one petitioner remaining. I have waited all morning, and I claim the right to an audience.”
Mordred said, “I have no reason to consider the wishes of the previous king's whore.”
Gwyneth looked at Mordred and laughed out loud. The Court fell silent, waiting for the fireworks to begin. Gwyneth wrapped herself in dignity and said, loudly enough to be heard in every corner of the now silent hall, “I reject the title of whore, although I admit to being Arthur's consort, and happily so. As such, I feel it my duty to look after his interests when he is not here, especially when his throne is being stolen out from under him by his unrecognized bastard son who would destroy Arthur and everything he stands for.”
It was Mordred's turn to laugh, “You are wrong, milady. I am not here to destroy the dream of Camelot or the ideals of the Round Table. Rather, I seek to fulfill them. The previous king lost his way. I intend to return to the original goals Arthur set out to accomplish before he was bewitched by you.”
Gwyneth smiled at him, “I suggest you prepare yourself for war.”
“You think Arthur will go to war against his son.”
“He doesn't know you are his son.”
“How can he not know? You know. Everyone else here knows.”
“The King only knows what people tell him. No one will tell him you are his son. For Arthur, you are merely an upstart knight from the sticks who seized his throne while he was away at war. Make no mistake, Mordred, Arthur will defend his throne.”
“Fine. We will do battle for it, and the best man will win.”
Gwyneth approached Mordred with blazing eyes. He stepped back and bumped the backs of his knees against the throne, sitting down heavily. Gwyneth leaned forward and hissed, “In the unlikely event you should best Arthur in battle, I make you this promise, Mordred, you will die within 24 hours of that battle, and you will never … ever … sit on Arthur's throne again.”
He laughed, “And who's going to kill me after Arthur is dead?”
“I will.”
He started to laugh again, but looked closer and saw not just the hatred in her eyes, but the determination and, for the first time, he recognized her power. He shuddered, but recovered quickly saying, “Then I'll have to neutralize you, too.”
“Good luck with that.”
Gwyneth did not wait for leave from Mordred. She turned on her heel and marched out of the room (with her back to the king), looking like both the queen and the Mage she was. No one but Mordred heard what she had said to him, but every person in the room understood the substance of that conversation by the look on her face. What was more, the raw personal power that she exuded, compounded with what the Court already knew of her healing and administrative skills, made it clear that she might well claim the throne
for herself. There was a small sense of relief that blew through the room when that thought rippled through the Court.
Gwyneth smiled to herself as she walked slowly through the palace toward her apartments. It had not previously occurred to her to take the throne herself but after the idea raced around the palace like some kind of electric current, she thought it might at least be worth considering. When Mordred went out to do battle with Arthur, Gwyneth could seize the throne. If Arthur won, she would cede the throne to him. If Mordred won, she would kill him. After that, she would deal with her sister and then take Excalibur home where it belonged. She had no interest in planning for an orderly succession. As much as she loved Arthur, she still thought of Humans as a lesser species and she was not concerned about the possibility of Britain sinking back into tribal rivalries and lying open to invasion. In fact, she believed that the greater good of both Britain and the Nether World would be served if that happened. It had been the rise of Pendragon power, seeking the unification of the kingdoms of Britain under one High King, that started the trouble in the Nether World.
That, and her sister's quest to steal her throne.
Gwyneth went to her apartment and told her lady she was going to bed and did not wish to be disturbed by anyone for any reason. She went into her bed chamber and locked the door, whereupon she disappeared. She reappeared in the room several hours later looking refreshed and revived. It had been years since she had dared to visit the Fairy Realm. That day, she knew her need was great enough that it was worth the risk she took in going home.
She flew directly to the courtyard of her palace and summoned the Fairies to assemble. The entire Fairy Realm came out of hiding and combined in what might have looked to an observer from space like a giant swarm of bees, humming and buzzing. The Fairies huddled together in what amounted to a group hug, feeding each others' spirits and bolstering their courage and determination to see the fight through to the end. Gwyneth returned to her bedchamber at Camelot, recommitted to preventing Mordred from reigning in Camelot because she feared he might free Guenevere from her convent prison, leaving her free to launch more direct attacks on the Nether World. Gwyneth's determination to prevent that, combined with her hatred for Mordred, made her bold.
Days later, word came that Arthur's army had arrived in Britain. Mordred's own army, under the temporary command of Agravain, had been camped several leagues from Camelot. Mordred went out to meet his troops and marched off to go to war with Arthur, his father and liege lord.
Only moments after Mordred left the palace, Gwyneth claimed the throne as Regent for Arthur. The old men and the women who were left in Court hailed her as the rightful Regent. If Arthur won the battle, they knew Gwyneth would cede the throne to him. If he lost, at least they would have a good and kind monarch, if Mordred didn't kill her.
Gwyneth spent several days consolidating her power as Regent and making arrangements for administrators not appointed by Mordred to take over key positions. She knew that she had no ability to raise an army, because every able-bodied man in Britain was on the way to Camlan, either under the command of Arthur or Mordred. She sent a message to the monarchs of the Nether World and to Nimue. They met briefly. Gwyneth explained her predicament and asked the monarchs to replace their spies with mages. None of them cared for the political intrigue in the Human Realm, but they had a vested interest in protecting Arthur, who was Excalibur's chosen Companion. They agreed that if Gwyneth couldn't protect Arthur's throne (and Excalibur's safety) with the might of Arthur's army, the folk of the Nether World would protect it with Magic. Gwyneth returned to Camelot reassured that she had done all she could do to protect Excalibur.
A few days later, she left her guise seated at a table playing cards with her maids and flew to the battlefield where the armies of Arthur and Mordred faced one another. Gwyneth hovered behind and above Arthur, unseen by any but the other Fairies and Nether World spies who had gathered for the momentous battle. Gwyneth sent out a summons to the spies and mages who had been dispatched to Britain to come to the aid of Excalibur. Scores of Fairies and Witches, along with a few mages of unknown species, who had been stationed all around Britain arrived in only moments. Gwyneth was almost positive she could sense Nimue's presence as well, but she couldn't find her. She suspected Nimue was hiding somewhere in a Human guise. It occurred to Gwyneth that she would rather have Nimue in the air with her, but she had to trust that Nimue knew what she was doing.
The Human troops surrounded Arthur on the ground furiously fighting their brothers in an effort to protect Arthur. The Nether World beings hovered above Arthur to protect Excalibur. Excalibur vibrated, glowed and howled that it was ready for battle. Only the Fairies and the Witches could hear it, but Arthur could feel it, and he, too, readied himself for the fight of his life.
The battle raged without pause from the break of day until mid afternoon. Arthur's army was already reduced due to casualties and exhausted after its battles with Lancelot, but the remaining soldiers were seasoned warriors, comprising the most powerful fighting force on British soil since the Romans had departed, trained by the finest cadre of knights ever assembled and led by a High King of matchless military skills. They may have been battered and tired, but they were also strong and experienced. What was more, every man in Arthur's army was in a killing rage. The anger that Arthur's troops directed at the treasonous upstart, Mordred, was palpable above the battlefield. To Gwyneth it smelled like rotten eggs, sulfurous and vomitous.
For its part, Mordred's army consisted of old men and young boys, most of whom had either never seen battle at all or had not been in a fight in years. Agravain was a great knight but he had had little time to train them properly, even if they had been decent material for an army. The Nether World observers were surprised to see that Mordred's army held its own for a little while, partly because Arthur's army was tired and their rage had rendered them slightly unfocused at first. Before long, Mordred's army's inexperience began to show. Arthur's warriors, led by the Knights of the Round Table, forgot their fatigue and focused their rage, slaughtering the majority of Mordred's army in a few heinous hours of bloody hand-to-hand combat. Most of those in the rear of Mordred's army, witnessing the juggernaut of Arthur's murderous warriors rolling over the advance lines that were made up of Mordred's best troops, fled.
By mid afternoon, only a few knights remained to protect Mordred, primarily his four brothers who were the only Round Table Knights to fight on Mordred's side. Throughout the day Mordred and Arthur had each fought their way towards the middle of the battlefield until, eventually, at mid-afternoon, Arthur and Mordred faced off, man-to-man.
Mordred taunted Arthur, calling him old and weak and unable to make difficult decisions required of a monarch. They feinted for a few minutes, and then Arthur raised Excalibur to land the killing blow and be done with Mordred's arrogance and insults once and for all.
Mordred smiled at him with Morgaine's evil eyes and said, “You wouldn't kill your only son, would you, Father.”
Arthur hesitated.
Mordred did not. He swung his sword up in a vicious swath that sliced Arthur across the abdomen from lower left to upper right. Mordred's eyes were filled with hate and bitterness. He smiled, knowing the High King was dead.
Even as Arthur was falling backwards, already dead, Gwyneth and the Fairies, swooped in under the cloak of invisibility and pushed Arthur's body forward. Gwyneth raised his right hand which still held Excalibur. The Fairies pushed Arthur's body forward and Gwyneth guided Excalibur forward into Mordred's solar plexus, while Excalibur throbbed and screamed with blood lust. Half of Excalibur's shaft disappeared into Mordred's abdomen and opened a gash from which a cascade of blood gushed over his abdomen and down his legs. Mordred fell backwards and Arthur fell on top of him, their lifeblood mingling and draining away into the ground.
Excalibur quivered and sang out in victory, with the tip of its blade in the earth and the haft sticking out of Mordred's belly. Ex
calibur celebrated the victory of the killing of its mortal Enemy. It did not seem to notice that Arthur was dead.
The Fairies hovered over the sword, while Gwyneth looked on the body of Arthur, mad with grief. She did not have long to give in to her pain, however.
A blackness grew in the distance and the earthy smell of rotting sod overpowered the smells of blood and shit and fear and death. Gwyneth knew her own battle was about to begin. The wounded Humans from both sides of the battle cried out for help, the camp women keened in mourning and horror. The screaming and moans of the wounded filled the air. All that was soon drowned by the unholy cry of the Banshee.
Guenevere had somehow escaped from her captors, and streaked toward the battlefield, intend upon capturing Excalibur. The Fairies hovered close around Excalibur, and Gwyneth flew out to face her sister. The twins circled one another in the air, testing the strengths of the other's magic and realizing they were more or less evenly matched for that type of contest. This would come down to physical combat, Fairy style. They feinted and jousted, at first without trying to land any real blows. After a while they flew straight toward each other and engaged, like wrestlers hovering in the air. They struggled fiercely, tumbling in the air with grunting and swearing on both sides. Neither showed any sign of weakness. They both knew they were in for a long and mortal fight that would require physical strength, endurance, and the appropriate use of magic at just the right time. Gwyneth was not afraid. Nor was Guenevere.
While the Fairy Queen and her sister struggled in the air, Humans crawled over every inch of the battlefield. Some were medics looking for the wounded. Some were women looking for their loved ones, dead or alive. Some were looters, stealing the meager possessions from the dead. All of them appeared to be oblivious to the battle raging – invisible to them – in the air above them.
A lone female made her way towards the very center of the battlefield, picking her way among the dead and wounded soldiers and the detritus left by the fallen and the ones who fled. She was covered from head to toe in a rustic wool cloak of nondescript color. She looked from side to side as she walked as though she were searching for someone, but her straight-line trajectory indicated that she knew where the object of her search was located. The closer she came to the center of the combat zone, the slower and more deliberate were her movements. She walked hunched over, wrapped in a cloak that covered her entire body, but that did not completely hide her purposeful movements. While the Fairy Twins battled far above the ground, the woman slowly made her way toward the place where Arthur and Mordred lay in macabre embrace.
Gwyneth and Guenevere scratched, bit, and wrestled with one another, neither side gaining any advantage. While the battle between the Fairies, which took place in the air above the bloody battlefield in the Human Realm, was noiseless and unseen by any of the Humans, it struck terror in the hearts of the Fairies and other Nether World spies who had come to fight on the side of Excalibur. The powerful magic being launched by both the Fairies unleashed dreadful violence and destruction in the Nether World, destroying the Tor of Avalon and turning what remained of the Fairy Realm into a wasteland.
The female figure on the ground made her way to the place where Arthur had fallen on top of Mordred. Excalibur stuck out of the body of Mordred, not unlike it had stuck out of the stone in the center of Londanum, glowing and thrumming with excitement. The woman bent over as though she intended to minister to Arthur, but, instead, she pushed Arthur's body aside, grabbed the sword from Mordred's belly and tucked it – still dripping Mordred's and Arthur's blood – beneath her cloak. Then she disappeared, with Excalibur.
The Fairies who had been guarding Excalibur went berserk – cheering and shouting in celebration of Excalibur's liberation.
Guenevere and Gwyneth stopped fighting in mid-air. Guenevere howled with rage at the disappearance of the object of her desire, setting of fires and earthquakes throughout the Nether Realm, and scorching the earth around the battlefield.
Gwyneth turned her back on her sister, and flew to Arthur, keening and crying over his body. Her Soul knew that soon she would rejoice with the rest of the Fairies because Excalibur was safe, but at that moment, the only thing she could feel was her grief at the loss of the man who had been her lover, friend and colleague for so many years.
The battle of Canlam was over.
Excalibur was gone, and both Guenevere and Gwyneth knew that Nimue would not let its whereabouts be known to anyone until and unless she was positive that it was safe. With the object of their war no longer available to either of them, there was no point in the Fairy twins continuing the combat. Guenevere showed her hatred for her sister with a malevolent glare and then disappeared. Gwyneth assumed the Black Fairy was returning to Hades to plan her next move.
Gwyneth stayed with Arthur's body (under the cloak of invisibility) until she saw the surviving Knights of the Round Table coming for him. As they lifted his body onto a shield to take it away, she noticed that all of them were crying. Galahad had assumed command and was giving instructions for moving the body, carefully and gently. Knowing Arthur was in hands of others who loved him as much as she did, Gwyneth returned instantly to Camelot, where she reentered her guise and left the card game, sequestering herself in her apartments until the official word of the horrible outcome of the battle was delivered to the Court.
That announcement came hours later by way of Sir Kay who wept openly as he gathered the Court in the Great Hall and narrated the story of Arthur's final struggle with Mordred, in which Arthur, though mortally wounded, found the strength to lunge forward and bury his sword in Mordred's gut. Of course, Kay had not seen the Fairies who had pushed Arthur forward and guided Excalibur's movement, after Arthur was already dead.
The Court fell into mourning.
Gwyneth's rule as Regent was universally accepted by the Court and Arthur's subjects, who had known her first as Galahads Maid and later as Arthur's Consort. Neighboring kings waited for her to show a sign of weakness that would allow them to swoop in, but Gwyneth had centuries of experience as a monarch and knew how not to show any weakness or vulnerability she might have felt.
From a military standpoint, she had the advantage of now owning Arthur's army, under the command of Galahad. The junior Knights of the Round Table scoured the realm seeking new recruits. The senior Knights nights drilled and trained the the troops constantly, pairing up raw recruits with seasoned veterans for additional training and mentoring.
With Galahad commanding her army and Kay returning to the role of senechal at Court, Gwyneth felt safe from military encroachment by the surrounding kings, at least until they could forge alliances with others. She had a small buffer of time in which to plan her next moves.
Arthur's body was cast adrift on the sea and set afire. Mordred's body was left on the battlefield, food for carrion. Both Britain and the Nether World lay still for a while, in shock and pain. As Regent and as Arthur's lover and friend, Gwyneth allowed everyone (including herself) space and time for mourning. She made no changes in the administration of the realm other than very subtle things, mostly having to do with backing away from some of the odious laws enacted by Mordred. She made it clear she was committed to the ideals of the Round Table, and to continuing Arthur's policies.
Arthur left no heir. Other than Gwyneth there was no real “pretender” to the throne of Camelot, either. Among the remaining Knights of the Round Table, only Galahad possessed the qualities of a monarch, but Galahad refused to claim the crown. He preferred the role of Knight in service to a monarch, and he chose to serve Gwyneth. She ruled Britain and ran the day-to-day operations of Camelot as best she could, but no one's heart was in the dream any more. Gwyneth's own heart was far away – in the Fairy Realm, where she longed to return.
She called a meeting of the surviving Knights at the Round Table. She stood behind Arthur's chair, knowing that if she sat in it, she would dissolve into hysterical weeping. They discussed many options, and e
nded by making the most radical decision of all: they would abandon Camelot and turn Arthur's dream into a legend in the hope of keeping it alive in Story, where it might one day fire another brave heart to try it again.
It was mad, but they knew that everything about Arthur's dream had been mad. They gambled the entire legacy of Camelot on the hope that future generations of humans (and others) would be wiser than the people of Arthurian Britain.
First, Gwyneth summoned every bard in the land and ordered them to make up songs and stories about the gallant Knights of the Round Table, the beautiful and faithless Guenevere and her traitorous affair with the King's first knight and best friend, and most of all about the glorious reign of the great High King, Arthur Pendragon, and his dream of a strong and united Britain at peace, and its subjects living happily and safely under an equitable rule of law. The bards tested their songs and stories on the Court in the evenings during dinner. Gwyneth was amused at the outlandishness of some of the stories, but she also noticed that some of them were so poetic and inspiring she and the Court often found themselves caught up in the stories, even when the facts were all wrong. That was when Gwyneth knew she had made the right decision. If even the members of Arthur's own inner circle could be inspired by the newly-born legends, she knew the people of Britain (and, perhaps, others) would be as well.
After she felt that there were enough bards with enough stories to keep Camelot alive in Story, she summoned the six kings from the various realms that were adjacent to Britain and offered to sell them each a section of Britain, dividing it equitably. No one king would get more than the others, but all would have their lands enhanced. Most of them agreed immediately. Two, who were strapped for cash due to the war, said they wanted to take part in the deal, but did not have the money. The other four arranged loans.
For a few days, Gwyneth was fabulously wealthy, and many Humans watched her with suspicion, wondering if she would take the money and abandon them. They did not know that Human money was of no value to Gwyneth where she planned to go, and they needn't have worried about her integrity.
Gwyneth called the entire Court and all the residents of the village beyond Camelot to a great assembly in the castle keep. She instructed the residents and villagers to destroy the palace at Camelot, and leave no trace of it having been there. She told them to take what they wanted from among the furniture and fixtures and to move the building stones to other places, using them for repairs or additions to their homes and barns that had been damaged in the wars. She explained that the village of Caerleon would henceforth be subject to a new king. She explained that Britain would no longer enjoy the protection of a High King – at least not until some day in the future, when a worthy successor to Arthur would arise and claim his role as High King and Liege Lord of Britain.
She divided the money the kings had paid for Britain's land among Arthur's subjects, sending the Round Table Knights throughout the land, dispensing cash to the people. The Knights took every opportunity to spread stories about the great High King, Arthur, who was the source of the largess; they were under orders never to mention the name of Gwyneth or refer in any way to her as Consort or as Regent. She commanded the messengers to make it clear to the people that source of the financial gifts was Arthur.
Some of the knights and all of the nobles violently disagreed with Gwyneth's decision to turn the money over to the people of the land, but she would not listen. Galahad feared for her life and moved in close to protect her in the days that followed.
Soon the palace of Camelot was empty and stone by stone it disappeared as though it were melting back into the land from which it had sprung. In only weeks there was nothing but a raw scar upon the land to give any evidence of its location. Gwyneth knew that in time the grass would hide the last evidence of the great palace. The wealth of Camelot drained out into the hamlets of Britain where it fed families for a year or two, started businesses, built houses, and caused the people to feel grateful to their fallen King, whose stories they told their children and grandchildren. The stories lived on long after the money was gone.
Having done all she could in the Human Realm, Gwyneth decided the time had come for her to return home to the Fairy Realm. Galahad offered to go with her. At first she declined, somewhat horrified at the thought of taking a Human male into the Fairy Realm. She soon reconsidered. She knew that her Realm lay in ruins. She was emotionally battered by the devastation in the Human Realm, which she didn't even care about. How much more difficult would it be for her to go home and find her beloved Fairies suffering so terribly? It would be good for her to have a trusted friend to support her, and she liked the idea of being able to talk about Arthur to someone who knew him. She agreed to let Galahad go with her on the condition that he agreed to leave if his presence was too disturbing to the Fairies, who had been through enough.
Gwyneth sent word of her intention to the Fairy Realm by way of warning, and to give them an opportunity to object. Gretel responded that, while the Fairies were nervous at the prospect of a Human male coming into their Realm, they knew Galahad to be a true friend to the Queen and to Excalibur. The Fairies were willing to accept him.
Gwyneth turned her back on the Human Realm, and she and Galahad took the boat to Avalon. The Human village was destroyed. Only a few elderly and frail Druids remained of the once powerful priesthood that had inspired and terrorized the lands of Britain and Normandy. They told of being persecuted by the Christians and all but wiped out in the wars that had spilled over from the human realm. Gwyneth had never lost any love on the Druids, mostly because she despised their reverence for Merlin, but she felt compassion for these pitiful old men, and gave them the last of the money she had held back to pay for her journey. She would have no further need for Human money.
The Nether World knew she was coming and prepared to welcome her as best it could, despite the widespread destruction the wars had caused. Rather than simply appearing at her palace, as she originally intended, Gwyneth traveled visibly. All the boatmen who plied the waters between Avalon and the Nether World were waiting on the dock at Avalon. Gwyneth and Galahad stepped onto one of the boats, and all the others arrayed themselves as an escort around her vessel.
When Gwyneth saw the destruction in her Realm, it was all she could do not to double over and be sick or tear her hair and scratch her face in grief. Instead, she stood tall and straight, accepting the greetings of the exhausted and bedraggled Fairies who lined the road for the entire distance between the portal from Avalon and her palace. Gwyneth walked slowly and greeted as many of the Fairies as she could in person, thanking them for their faithfulness and offering hope that things would soon improve. Galahad followed, endearing himself to the Fairies by his obvious devotion to their Queen and the tears he shed at the sight of their suffering.
The Fairy Queen's palace was heavily damaged but parts were still habitable. Gretel, who appeared even older than her eight hundred years, greeted Gwyneth and bowed low, “Welcome home, Majesty, I wish I could turn your Realm back over to you in the same condition in which you entrusted it to me.”
Gwyneth took Gretel in her arms in a loving and healing embrace, “My dear sister, the fact that there are any Fairies who survived the devastation wrought by the war between me and the Black Fairy is a credit to your leadership and love for the entire Realm. All Fairies everywhere will be forever in your debt – I, more than all the rest.”
The Fairies were skittish in the presence of Galahad, but they knew he came as a friend and protector for their Queen, so they accepted him as best they could, even if most of them avoided getting too close to him.
Gwyneth received reports from the Fairies about the appalling conditions throughout her Realm and greeted messengers from the other monarchs, who reported on the destruction in their Realms as well. Occasionally, when the burden of the stories that piled up became too much to bear she fled to her chamber weeping in frustration and grief at the pain caused by her sister's jealousy
and lust for power.
Gwyneth and her advisors met for long hours over the coming weeks. Messengers flew back and forth between the monarchs, and no fewer than three assemblies of the monarchs took place as they worked together to repair their alliances and cooperate on rebuilding their Realms. Gwyneth's role in recent years as the focal point around which much of the conflict revolved and the most significant witness of the events in the Human World elevated her to a position of something resembling a High Queen, or at least the first among equals of the monarchs.
After protracted negotiations and with some modifications, her plans for reconstruction of the Nether World were accepted, and all the Realms of the Nether World committed to cooperate in rebuilding their lands and to work together more closely in the future. They knew, but did not expressly state, that they believed Human encroachment would not stop, despite the current setback in Britain. Their plans provided for pulling away from the Human Realm, turning inward and building up defenses, which had never been necessary when Excalibur protected the Nether World. They started with the assumption that it would not be safe to bring Excalibur back to the Nether World any time in the foreseeable future. Therefore, they had to protect themselves in other ways.
Gwyneth's spies in the Human realm brought stories of pitiful suffering. The kings who had purchased portions of Arthur's lands almost immediately fell to fighting over the boundaries of their lands, each trying to take more than his share. One day, after hearing reports from several spies about the in-fighting among the kings, at dinner Galahad shook his head and looked at Gwyneth with admiration, “The aftermath of War in the Human Realm is continued fighting among the lords increasing the suffering of their subjects. You are using the destruction here as an opportunity to build a world that is better than it had been, in cooperation with other monarchs. How is that possible?”
She smiled. “Humans see the Nether World in one of two ways. Some Humans deny it even exists. Other Humans, most notably the Christians, attribute demonic characteristics to all peoples of the Nether World. It is true there are mean and evil folk among us just as there are among Humans, but, just as in the Human Realm, most folk here are good and decent creatures who are simply trying to do their best to get along. I spent most of my life despising Humans for their prejudice against my kind as well as their barbarism. It sort of served me right to fall in love with a Human.” She paused and cleared her throat, “Working as your maid and then, later, loving Arthur made me understand that Humans have their good points as well. I confess that I still do not have a high opinion of Humans in general. As a species, Humans have brought nothing but grief on the Fairy Realm since they first became civilized. I always thought of Humans as a species that was somehow beneath the Fairies. Now, I'm not so sure about that. I think perhaps Humans are just another species, like Fairies or Trolls or Witches. Neither better nor worse. Just different.
“As I see it, the biggest difference between Humans and the creatures of the Nether World is that we generally try to cooperate with one another and Humans almost always compete against one another. The monarchs of the Nether World don't always agree, and we frequently don't like one another. As a matter of fact, I despise the Elf King and he doesn't like me either. However, Elves and Fairies are natural allies, so we work together despite our personal animosity. Humans seem to have trouble doing that. I don't understand why.”
He peeled an apple and cut it into slices, noticing that he missed meat less every day, “There is a competitiveness built into humans that I don't see in you or most others of your kind, with the exception of Guenevere, who carries competitiveness to the extreme. I have mixed feelings about that. As a knight, I was trained from childhood to be competitive in everything I do, and I like other people who are also competitive. Sometimes Fairies seem too compliant and too content for my tastes.”
Gwyneth nodded, “That's why the Fairy culture has changed so little in thousands of years, and Human culture has grown from savages living in caves and eating bugs and berries to the level it has become now in a relatively short period of time. I see no evidence that the development of Human culture will slow any time soon. On the contrary: it seems to be accelerating.”
He leaned back in his chair, and raised his eyebrows, “How do you feel about that?”
She looked at her dear friend for a long time and asked, “Are you sure you want an honest answer?”
He didn't answer for a long while, looking first at Gwyneth and then into his glass of water. Eventually he said, “Yes. I do want to hear your answer, Majesty.”
“I hate it and despise it with every breath I draw. I believe Human aggression will destroy the Nether World that I have spent the last three hundred years of my life working to protect. I can protect my Realm from the likes of my evil twin. I can't protect it from Human encroachment. I resent and hate that.
“Before I went to Camelot, I was inclined to fight if Humans tried to move further than Avalon. I think I would have incited the monarchs of the Nether World to declare war on Humans in order to impede their advance on our lands. Living in Camelot and getting to know Humans on a personal level made me understand that would be futile -- and disastrous. If Fairies are to survive as a species, I think we have to go underground and hide. I will rebuild my Realm, but it will be with the understanding that my Realm will be smaller and less important as time goes on and the Human advance progresses. Fairies will have to learn to hide if we are to survive as a species. I think perhaps we may need to cloak the entire Nether World under an invisibility spell and encourage the Humans who say the Nether World does not exist.
“But even if we hide, our long-term survival is anything but certain.”
“You said that without sounding bitter.”
“That's true, and I know you don't understand how I can do that. You should know, however, that my sadness over the knowledge that my Realm will never return to the splendor it was when I first assumed the throne and that my very species is endangered is shredding my very Soul.” She put her head in her hands, but she did not allow herself to weep, knowing that she might never be able to stop.
“How could you love Arthur, while despising Humans so?”
“The answer to that is: I despise Humans less because I loved Arthur. His goodness pierced the armor of my prejudice, and I was able to love him. Actually, I have to tell you that I think I was only able to love Arthur because I loved you first. As your maid, I saw, from up close, your integrity and decency, and that made me look at Humans through new eyes. Then I saw other kind and wonderful Humans at Camelot. That made a chink in the armor of my anti-Human prejudice. Arthur's charm, wit and allure capitalized on that opening, and captured my heart.”
Galahad stared into the fire with tears in his eyes, “I miss him.”
Gwyneth put her hand on his arm and rasped, “Me, too.”
Galahad went to his apartments and Gwyneth went to bed. They both cried themselves to sleep.
In the months that followed, the Nether World slowly healed. Magic returned and, with it, beauty. Fairies sang while they worked, rebuilding homes and replanting gardens. It sometimes seemed to Galahad that the entire Realm hummed a happy tune. He felt his own Soul healing and joy returning. Galahad enjoyed helping the Grail Priestesses, perhaps mostly in order to spend some time with other Humans. The Priestesses were grateful for his help rebuilding their damaged convent, especially after they overcame their initial fear in the presence of such a powerful Human male. Galahad became known in the Nether World as the champion of the Grail Community.
One day while Galahad and Gwyneth were picking apples in the orchard outside the palace walls, a Witch appeared and bowed low before Gwyneth. That was odd; Witches generally gave obeisance to no one. Gwyneth raised the Witch to her feet and invited her to sit and refresh herself with water they had brought in a jug. The Witch sat, but declined the refreshment. She asked in an almost inaudible voice, “Is it safe to talk here?”
Gwyne
th nodded and said, “We believe so. There has been no sign of the Black Fairy since the last battle in the Human Realm. I can tell if she is near and I have had no sense of her presence.”
The Witch nodded and visibly relaxed, “I bring a message from Nimue.”
Gwyneth and Galahad both leaned forward, eager for news of Excalibur's whereabouts. The Witch shook her head, “No, I am not permitted to tell you where Excalibur is hidden. I am to tell you that it is safe. Nimue believes it would not be safe to return it to the Nether World at least as long as there is the possibility that the Black Fairy might try to seize it. Nimue has found a hiding place where she believes it will be safely hidden as long as necessary. Her first message is that word of encouragement to you.
“Her second message is a request for help. As you know, Nimue is an Immortal. She is presently guarding Excalibur without help and intends to continue to be its primary guardian as long as necessary. However, in the event the Black Fairy, or someone else, tries to come for Excalibur in the future, she thinks she needs help. She wants to create a small group dedicated to protecting Excalibur. She thinks that most of the Guardians should come from the ranks of Nether World beings whose magic is strong, especially Witches and Elves. She says she also wants to recruit some Humans who have become Immortal. She knows that a few of the old Grail Priestesses are Immortals, and has sent messages to them. She knows that you made the acquaintance of many Humans during your years in Camelot. She wants to know if you could identify any who possess the qualities of bravery and strength that it will take to protect our treasure from evil, but who also have the courage to achieve immortality.”
Galahad was standing behind the Queen, at a respectful distance, but close enough to hear the Witch's words. Both the Witch and the Queen smiled behind their hands as they could feel Galahad's entire Being, both body and Soul, vibrating. Gwyneth raised her eyebrows ever so slightly answered in the silent Fairy language which Galahad could not hear, “I can think of one.”
The Witch nodded, and replied in the same language, “Nimue would have you send that one with me.”
Gwyneth nodded, saying aloud, “Please go to the palace and refresh yourself. I will speak with you again later.”
The Witch bowed again and disappeared.
Galahad sat down on the log the Witch had vacated, facing Gwyneth, who was sitting on a stone bench. He leaned forward and reached out his hands in a penitent gesture, not quite touching the Queen's hands which lay in her lap, “Send me, please.”
Gwyneth stood up and took his hand, “Walk with me a while.”
They walked through the orchard and into the fields beyond, talking for hours. Gwyneth explained at length the burden of immortality. “Everyone you know and love will die, and their children will grow old and die. Wars and famines and every manner of hardship will come and go in an endless cycle. There are joys, but they become less significant with time because what gives joy is surprise, but after a few centuries of Immortality, surprises happen infrequently.”
“Are you Immortal, Majesty?”
“No. Fairies live for centuries but we can be killed in battle or in accidents. We are not susceptible to diseases, at least none that has ever been recorded. When we get very old, usually after eight or nine hundred years, our powers fade and a Fairy simply shrinks away until she disappears.”
“What happens then?”
“I don't know.”
“Do you believe in Heaven?”
“I suppose it is possible that when beings die they might go to another Realm. Maybe all beings are Immortal. I don't know. Frankly, I don't really care. I have enough to think about right now. I can't worry about what may happen when I fade away.”
They walked in silence for a long time while Galahad pondered the choice he faced. “What is Nimue like?”
“You knew her as Niniane.”
“Niniane was not a Human?”
Gwyneth shook her head, “Nimue is the greatest Sorceress the Nether World has ever produced. She and I went to Camelot to guard and protect Excalibur.”
“You weren't there to help Arthur?”
“Not at all. We serve Excalibur. Excalibur chose Arthur as its Companion, so in protecting Excalibur, we protected Arthur as well.”
“Niniane served Arthur well, and he relied on her.”
“The three people in his Court Arthur could completely trust were you, Niniane (whom I knew as Nimue) and me.”
Galahad put his hands against his temples. Gwyneth put her hand on his arm, “My lord, Galahad, you have much to ponder and you have a weighty decision to make. I suggest you take all the time you need to make it.”
He nodded, “I think I would like to go on a quest through the Human Realm, to revisit places I have known.”
“That's a good idea. Revisit the places you have loved. Perhaps you should even reconnect with some of the Knights from Camelot if you can find them. Find out if you think you can leave that life forever to enter the service of Excalibur.”
He bowed, kneeling before her. She gave him her blessing, and sent him on his way.
Several months later, he returned. The first thing Gwyneth noticed was that Galahad wore an almost haunted look. She greeted him publicly in the Court, and the Fairies greeted him with happy buzzing as well. They knew that Galahad's presence pleased the Queen, who had missed him in his absence, and they were glad her friend had returned. As soon as they could decently do it, Gwyneth and Galahad retired to her private dining room where they talked far into the night.
Galahad told her of the deplorable conditions in Britain, where the people suffered from every manner of disease, grinding poverty and hunger, while the lords lived in what amounted to Human luxury (he laughed because the splendor of the luxury in Gwyneth's palace exceeded anything he had ever seen in the Human Realm) and occasionally marched out and killed one another for sport. He leaned across the table with angry eyes but a catch in his voice, “The dream of Camelot is dead.”
Gwyneth knew he did not like to be touched, but sometimes she could not help herself. She put her hand against his cheek, leaned forward and asked, “Do people still tell the stories?”
He laughed, “Oh, yes, and they are being embellished, expanded and spinning off in a hundred different versions.”
She clapped, “Excellent!”
He looked puzzled, “But most of the stories being told aren't even true!”
“Are they about the glorious dream of the High King who dared to try to unite Britain by creating a new order of Knights committed to using chivalry for the benefit of all the people?”
He thought about that for a while, “Yes, I think they are. There are wild tales about the exploits of all the knights.” He blushed, “I ended up traveling in disguise and using a different name because some of the stories about me are just embarrassing.”
She laughed out loud and raised her hands in a gesture of thanksgiving, “Then Arthur's Dream is not dead. It is alive in the hearts of humanity. It will change and grow and splinter into a thousand variations, but it will not die. Someday it may come true in all its glorious splendor. Perhaps that will be when a High King returns and reunites Britain. Perhaps it will come true in some other way. In the meantime, it will give hope and inspiration to many. It will fire the imagination of the old who will tell the stories to the young, which they will, in turn, pass on to their children.”
“You think a story is that powerful.”
She looked at him directly, “Do you believe in my Magic?”
“Oh, yes, Majesty. I have seen your Magic in action. It's amazing in its power.”
“My Magic is nothing compared with the power of Story.”
After a few days, while Galahad rested from his travels and spent long hours wandering the fields with Gwyneth, she summoned Nimue's Witch and said, “My lord Galahad is ready to go with you.”
The Witch bowed low, “My Lady will be most pleased by that, I am sure.” The Witch raised her arm and she and Gala
had disappeared.
Gwyneth made a tour of her Realm and satisfied herself that something like normalcy had returned and there was once again a joyful energy in the Fairy Realm. Gwyneth visited all the other monarchs in the Nether Realm, solidifying friendships and smoothing over rough edges in the relationships that were not as close. She was gratified to know that no one had picked up any hint of the presence of the Black Fairy.
Gwyneth told them she planned to visit the Human Realm. They objected, but she insisted, she had a mission that only she could accomplish. While she was at it, she planned to visit with the various spies stationed around Britain. The monarchs all knew that it was a good idea to have someone take the pulse of the Human Realm, but they didn't like the idea that the “someone” would be their most powerful mage and most effective monarch. They also knew better than to argue with her.
Gwyneth did not bother with the boat to Avalon. She disappeared from her bedchamber and reappeared a second later in Avalon. She went to the Druid in charge and explained her mission, saying that she needed a companion, preferably the best singer in his community. He told her that most of the remaining Druids in Avalon were too old to travel. She said she thought she could fix that with her Magic. The Druid shook his head and said he doubted that any of the Druids would be willing to accompany her. She became annoyed and started to argue with him.
He waved his hand in front of her face, and said, “I think I can make a suggestion that will help both you and someone else.”
“What is that?”
“There is a young man who lives in what used to be the kitchen in the ruins of the former Christian monastery in the village. I think he is the only survivor in the village. He must have been a monk because he sings like an angel. Perhaps he will go with you.”
She made a face at the very thought of traveling with a Christian monk – assuming he would even be willing to travel with a Fairy. Still, if the Druids had become old and afraid, she felt she had no choice. She sought out the young man, who was easy to find. She simply followed the beautiful music. He was working in the garden behind the rubble that had once been the monastery, singing as he weeded the rows of vegetables. Gwyneth had not heard the song before; it was obviously something he had made up about the loss of everything in his world and the rebirth of new life in his garden. She was looking for a bard. It appeared she had found a highly talented one.
She approached him in her human guise. He was startled to see another person, but he recovered quickly and invited her to sit and take some water and fruit for refreshment. After she had eaten and they chatted for a few minutes she decided to be honest with him. She told him who she was and what she wanted to do on her journey through the Human Realm.
He listened to her entire story without interrupting. Then he poured them each a cup of beer and he looked off into the fields for a very long time, pondering her proposal. She sat patiently and respectfully, knowing she had burdened him with a huge decision. After a while, she suggested he might want to think about it for a while. If so, she would go to the Sorceress' old dwelling and wait.
He shook his head and said, “That won't be necessary. I'll go with you happily. I wasn't debating with myself whether or not to accept your proposal. I was fighting the simultaneous urges to either stand up on this chair and scream with relief or to cast myself at your feet and weep in gratitude.”
“Would you care to explain that?”
“I can tell you the story in detail as we travel the road, milady. Suffice it to say that I did not come willingly to this monastery. I was kidnapped by monks when I was very small because of my singing. When the monastery was destroyed, I stayed here because I have no where to go. I don't remember where my home is.”
She stood, “Then I think we should go. Perhaps we will find your home as we travel.”
David the Bard went inside to gather his few belongings while Gwyneth flew to the ruins of the Grail Priestesses convent. She knew the High Priestess always kept some Human money stashed away for times when people from the Nether World traveled to the Human Realm. She helped herself to enough money for a few days. She knew they would make plenty of money once they got started.
At the portal to the Human Realm, the Boatman waited patiently as she took on the guise of an old Human woman and clothed young David as a bard. The boatman helped her into the boat and her guise sat heavily in the middle of the boat. David hopped aboard and sat beside her. When they reached the dock at the Human realm, they walked slowly toward the village.
They found an inn with a large dining room. She paid the innkeeper cash for the room but asked if he would agree to let David sing for their supper. She said his voice would very likely draw others. It did. His beautiful voice carried throughout the village and soon men and women filled the dining room, and even some village urchins hung about the doors and windows listening to the amazing songs about knights and damsels, dragons and monsters. Once David had everyone's attention, he smiled and said in a sing-song voice, “Everybody get comfortable. I have a tale to tell. A long and wonderful tale about a Dream and a Sword....”
He sang the epic of Galahad, from his ignoble birth as a bastard in Normandy, his training as a knight, his growth to manhood as a Knight of the Round Table and his faithful service to Arthur, the High King. At the end of the tale, the singer reached a joyful crescendo telling of Galahad's role as everlasting guardian of Excalibur. When he finished, the audience was in tears. The owner of the inn was ecstatic, having made more money that evening than on any one night in the history of the establishment. He offered to let Gwyneth and David stay in the inn for free for as long as they liked, or until the patrons tired of the story.
The next night, David sat in front of the fire and sang new songs about errant knights and damsels in distress. He sang the tragic story of Lancelot and Guenevere, which made Gwyneth laugh behind her hand, it was so far from the truth. As the evening wore on David teased the audience, first with stories of Arthur, then with other songs. Finally, one of the children at the door called out, “Sing us the story of Galahad the Great!” David sang the story, embellishing it and polishing it as he went.
After a few days David the Bard and his “mother” were invited to visit the next village, where he sang his stories for new crowds. They spent several days in each place. Innkeepers insisted they stay for free, because they brought in so much business. Grateful audiences put money into the bard's hat. At the end of their stay, Gwyneth took out just enough money to get them to their next destination and for emergencies. The rest of it she gave to either the innkeeper or the village midwife, with instructions to use it for the benefit of the poor. David became known far and wide as the greatest bard in Britain, and his nameless “mother” became known as something bordering on the patron saint of the poor.
They traveled throughout Britain, avoiding the cities and large towns, but stopping in every small village and hamlet they could find. If anything, David's singing and storytelling powers improved with daily practice, and he refined his epic to the point that it was so inspiring it continued to thrill Gwyneth no matter how many times she heard it, and despite the fact that there was so very little of David's epic that bore any resemblance to the actual events or people Gwyneth had known.
As they were passing through the countryside near the place where Camelot had once stood, Gwyneth could not resist the urge to take David to see it. The grass had not completely obliterated every remnant of the castle walls but the previously well-manicured keep had grown over the foundations of the palace itself. They stood on the remaining cornerstone of one of the turrets and Gwyneth pointed out to David where everything had been, gesturing with her arms and becoming animated as her mind took her back to those years in the Court. After a while, she grew quiet and sad, the grief she thought had healed welling up from the place deep in her heart where she had buried it. David suggested that she rest while he explored.
She sat on a stone bench that still stood in the s
hade of an ancient oak tree, the very bench where she and Arthur had spent many afternoons reading and talking. Somewhere in the distance David began to sing the story of Arthur's glorious victories over the Saxons, the amazing tales of the quests of the Knights of the Round Table and the spectacular palace of Camelot.
Gwyneth leaned her head back against the tree and closed her eyes, listening to David's song and re-inhabiting the experiences. When David reached the part about Guenevere's arrival, Gwyneth tensed as she always did during that part of the story. It bothered her that, in order to remove Gwyneth from the tale altogether (a point on which she was adamant) and still make the story “work” the bards had turned Guenevere from an evil Fairy, whose Human guise behaved like a wanton hussy, into a tragic and romantic Human queen. Once again, Gwyneth allowed the exigence of the moment to paint over the wickedness of her sister. It crossed her mind that she might suffer from the same tragic flaw as Arthur in her inability to hate the one who posed the most danger to her. She allowed herself to ponder for a moment the result of Arthur's unwillingness to deal with Guenevere or to kill Mordred. She resolved to steel herself against any affection she might still harbor for Guenevere and heed the lesson.
She turned away from that thought and let her mind float on David's music, returning to Camelot in its glory days, in the presence of a great King, brave knights, all under the protection of the mighty sword Excalibur.
Unfortunately, her thoughts had started down the path of reflecting on unpleasant truths and she allowed herself to reflect on other matters she had always purposely avoided.
In thinking about her days as Galahad's Maid, she admitted to herself that the first Human Male she loved was Galahad, and not in the maternal way she had forced herself to behave towards him. Her respect for Galahad's calling as Excalibur's eternal Companion and his nazirite vows had forced her to be, first, a mother figure and, later, Queen to his First Knight. She had never once allowed herself to think about her original feelings for Galahad, feelings that had never diminished. Only after Galahad was permanently removed from her sphere could she allow herself to look into her heart and feel the passionate devotion she felt for him. She rested against the tree and allowed the grief for what-might-have-been to wash over her until she thought she would die of sorrow.
That led her to finally have the courage to face the reality that she was not Arthur's first or dearest love. Arthur had never loved her with the total devotion he had reserved only and forever for Guenevere. She knew Arthur had been bewitched by Guenevere long before he noticed Gwyneth and that enchantment had never completely worn off. For the first time she was able to face the fact that Arthur had continued to love Guenevere the entire time he was with her.
She took some consolation in the knowledge that she and Arthur shared a special bond of affection and mutual support and encouragement, but it had not been enough to avert disaster. She had not talked Arthur out of going to war with Lancelot. She had not objected to Mordred's presence in the palace. She felt herself consumed with sorrow and grief and guilt over all the things that she could have done (or not done) that might have made a difference.
She looked around at the ruins of Camelot, but in her mind and heart she saw it in the glory of its halcyon days, with Arthur's banner flying from the turrets and knights from all over the Human Realm vying for seats at the Round Table. Now it was all gone, because of Human weakness and Nether World wickedness.
In the distance David the Bard was singing a new song she had never heard before, a sad plaintive song about star-crossed lovers who were the victims of deception and treachery that kept true loves apart and made enemies of those who should have been allies. Just when it seemed the song was too sad to be endured for one more moment, it changed into a joyous ode to the power of righteousness to use both the wicked and the good to further its purposes, ending with a climax promising that one day the mighty Excalibur would rise from its hiding place under the protection of the Lady of the Lake, its faithful guardian, and in the hand of Galahad the Great, its true and noble Companion, to be used in the service of a new High King who would rebuild Camelot.
Gwyneth leaned her head back and pinched her eyes closed to hold in the tears, listening to the glorious voice of a master bard singing the epic of Galahad and Excalibur. Ensuring the endurance of the past by embedding it in Story. Keeping Hope alive in a world of darkness, and poverty. Weaving a Dream to be planted in the hearts of people who would cherish it, embellish it and pass it along to others, for generations.
Gwyneth's task in the Human Realm was finished.
She disappeared from the Human Realm with David's final notes still ringing in her heart, returning to her palace in the Fairy Realm where she still dreams of the return of Excalibur. The Fairy Queen's joyful hope for Excalibur's liberation is tempered by the knowledge that the Black Fairy awaits it, too.
Even today, Merlin's daughters remain hidden, deep in the Nether World most Humans don't even believe in, waiting for the once and future king to to summon Excalibur from its hiding place … setting the stage for their final battle.
* End *
Merlin's Daughters Page 12
