The Mists of Avalon

by Marion Marion Bradley

  "I thought Accolon was your youngest, sir."

  "No, no, Uwaine is only nine years old. His mother died when he was born ... you wouldn't think an old fellow like me could have a boy as young as nine, would you?"

  Why, yes, I would, I thought with an ironic smile, men are as proud of their ability to father sons as if it took a great skill. As if any tomcat could not do the same! At least a woman must bear a child in her body for most of a year and suffer to bring it forth, and so she has some reason for pride; but men accomplish their trick with no thought or trouble at all!

  But I said, trying to make a jest of it, "When I was a young girl, sir, there was a saying in my country: a husband of forty may not become a father, but a husband of sixty surely will do so."

  I had done this deliberately. If he had gone stiff and offended by the ribaldry of that, I would have known how I must treat him in the future, and taken great care always to speak him modest and quiet. Instead he laughed heartily and said, "I think you and I may agree well enough, my dear. I have had enough of being married to young girls who don't know how to laugh. I hope you will be content, marrying an old fellow like me. My sons laugh at me because I married again after Uwaine was born, but to tell the truth, lady Morgaine, a man gets used to being married, and I do not like living alone. And when my last wife died of the summer fever-well, it is true that I wished to be akin by marriage to your brother, but also, I am lonely. And it comes to me that you, who are unmarried so many years beyond the women of your age, you may not like it so ill to have a home and a husband, even if he is not young and handsome. I know you were not consulted about this marriage-but I hope you will not be too unhappy."

  At least, I thought, he does not expect me to be madly excited about the great honor of being married to him. I could have said that it would be no change- I had not truly been happy since I left Avalon, and since I would be unhappy wherever I was, at least it would be better to be away from Gwenhwyfar's malice. I could no longer make pretense to be her loyal kinswoman and friend, and that saddened me somewhat, because there had been a time when we had truly been friends, and it was not I who had changed. I certainly had no wish to rob her of Lancelet; but how could I explain to her that, though I had once desired him, I despised him, too, and would not have had him for husband as a gift. Oh, yes, if Arthur had married its to each other before he was wed to Gwenhwyfar-but even then it was too late. It was always too late after that afternoon beneath the ring stones. If I had let him take me then, none of this would have come about ... but done is done, and I had not known what other plans Viviane had had for me; and they had brought me in the end to this wedding with Uriens.

  Our first bedding was about what I expected. He stroked me and fussed and pumped away atop me for a little while, snorting and breathing hard, and then was suddenly done and away from me and asleep. Having expected no better, I was not disappointed, nor particularly sorry to curl up in the curve of his arm; he liked having me there, and although after the first few weeks he lay with me but seldom, still he liked having me in his bed and would sometimes hold me in his arms for hours, talking of this and that, and what was more, listening to what I said. Unlike the Romans of the South, these men of the Tribes never scorned to listen to a woman's advice, and for that, at least, I was grateful, that he would hear what I said and never put it aside as being but a woman's counsel.

  North Wales was a beautiful country, great hills and mountains that reminded me of the country of Lothian. But where Lothian was high and barren, Uriens' country was all green and fertile, lush with trees and flowers, and the soil was rich and the crops good. Uriens had built his castle in one of the finer valleys. His son Avalloch, and Avalloch's wife and children, deferred to me in all things, and his youngest son, Uwaine, called me "Mother." I came to know what it might have been to have a son to bring up, to look after all the little daily concerns of a growing child, climbing trees and breaking bones, outgrowing his clothes or tearing them in the woods, being rude to his tutors or taking dog's leave to go hunting when he should have been at his book; the priest who taught Uwaine his letters despaired, but he was the pride and joy of the arms master. Troublesome as he was, I loved him well; he waited on me at dinner, and often sat in hall to listen to me when I played the harp-like all the folk of that country he had an ear for music and a clear and tuneful voice; and like all of that court, Uriens'family would rather make music themselves than listen to paid minstrels. After a year or two I began to think of Uwaine as my own son, and of course he could not remember his own mother. Wild as he was, he was always gentle with me; boys that age are not easy to control, but there were endearing moments, after days of rudeness or sullenness, when he would suddenly come and sit by me in the hall and sing to my harp, or bring me wild flowers or a clumsily tanned hareskin, and once or twice, awkward and shy as a young stork, he would bend and brush my cheek with his mouth. Often I wished, then, that I had had children of my own that I could rear myself. There was little enough else to do at this quiet court, far away from the wars and troubles to the south.

  And then, when I had been married to Uriens for a year, Accolon came home.

  9

  Summer on the hills; the orchard in the queen's garden covered with pink and white blossoms. Morgaine, walking beneath the trees, felt an aching homesickness all through her blood, remembering the Avalon spring and the trees covered with those white and rosy clouds. The year was swinging toward the summer solstice; Morgaine reckoned it up, realizing ruefully that at last the effects of half a lifetime in Avalon were wearing away-the tides no longer ran in her blood.

  No, need I lie to myself? It is not that I have forgotten, or that the tides no longer run in my blood, it is that I no longer let myself feel them. Morgaine considered herself dispassionately-the somber costly gown, suitable for a queen ... Uriens had given her all the gowns and jewels which had belonged to his late wife, and she had her jewels from Igraine as well; Uriens liked to see her decked out in jewels befitting a queen.

  Some kings kill their prisoners of state, or enslave them in their mines; if it pleases the King of North Wales to hang his with jewels and parade her forth at his side, and call her queen, why not?

  Yet she felt full of the flow of the summer. Beneath her on the hillside she could hear a plowman encouraging his ox with soft cries. Tomorrow would be Midsummer.

  Next Sunday a priest would carry torches into the field and circle it in procession with his acolytes, chanting psalms and blessings. The richer barons and knights, who were all Christian, had persuaded the people that this was more seemly in a Christian country than the old ways, where the people lighted fires in the fields, and called the Lady in the old worship. Morgaine wished-and not for the first time-that she had been only one of the priestesses, not one of the great royal line of Avalon.

  I would still be there, she thought, one of them, doing the work of the Lady ... not here, like any shipwrecked sailor, lost in an alien land ... . Abruptly she turned and walked through the blossoming garden, her eyes downcast, refusing to look any further at the apple blossoms.

  Spring comes again and again, and the summer follows, with its fruitfulness. But I am as alone and barren as one of those locked-up Christian virgins within convent walls. She set her will against the tears which seemed somehow always beneath the surface these days, and went inside. Behind her the setting sun spread crimson over the fields, but she would not look at it; all was grey and barren here. As grey and barren as I.

  One of her women greeted her as she stepped inside the door.

  "My lady, the king has returned and would see you in his chamber."

  "Yes, I suppose so," said Morgaine, more to herself than to the woman. A tight band of headache settled around her forehead, and for a moment she could not breathe, could not force herself to walk inside the darkness of the castle which, all this cold winter, had closed round her like a trap. Then she told herself not to be fanciful, set her teeth, and went to Uriens' chamber, whe
re she found him half-clad and lying on the flagstones, stretched out with his body servant rubbing his back.

  "You have tired yourself again," she said, not adding, you are no longer young enough to go about your own lands like this. He had ridden to a nearby town to hear about some disputed lands. She knew that he would want her to sit beside him and listen to his tales of all that he had heard in the countryside. She sat down in her own chair nearby and listened with half an ear to what he told her.

  "You can go, Berec," he told the man. "My lady will fetch my clothes for me." When the man had gone he asked, "Morgaine, will you rub my feet? Your hands are better than his."

  "Certainly. But you will have to sit in the chair."

  He stretched out his hands and she gave him a tug upward. She placed a footstool under his feet and knelt beside it, chafing his thin, callused old feet until the blood rose to the surface and they looked alive again; then she fetched a flask and began to rub one of her herbal oils into the king's gnarled toes.

  "You should have your man make you some new boots," she said. "The crack in the old ones will make a sore there-see where it is blistered?"

  "But the old ones fit me so well, and boots are so stiff when they are new," he protested.

  Morgaine said, "You must do as you like, my lord."

  "No, no, you are right, as always," he said. "I will tell the man tomorrow to come and measure my feet for a pair."

  Morgaine, putting away her flask of herbal oil and fetching a pair of shapeless old soft shoes, thought: I wonder if he knows that this may be his last pair of boots, and that is why he is reluctant? She would not think about what the king's death would mean to her. She did not want to wish him dead -he had never been anything but kind to her. She slid the soft indoor slippers on his feet and stood up, wiping her hands on a towel. "Is that better, my lord?"

  "Wonderful, my dear, thank you. No one can look after me the way you do," he said. Morgaine sighed. When he had the new boots he would have more trouble with his feet; they would, as he had rightly foreseen, be stiff, and that would make his feet just as sore as they were now. Perhaps he should stop riding and stay at home in his chair, but he would not do that.

  She said, "You should have Avalloch ride out to hear these cases. He must learn to rule over his people." His oldest son was the same age as she. He had waited long enough to rule, and Uriens looked like living forever.

  "True, true-but if I do not go, they will think their king does not care for them," Uriens said. "But perhaps when the roads are bad next winter I will do so ... ."

  "You had better," she said. "If you have chilblains again, you could lose the use of your hands."

  "The fact is, Morgaine," he said, smiling his good-natured smile at her, "I am an old man, and there is nothing that can be done about it. Do you think there is roast pork for supper?"

  "Yes," she said, "and some early cherries. I made sure of that."

  "You are a notable housekeeper, my dear," he said, and took her arm as they went out of the room. She thought, He thinks he is being kind to say so.

  The household of Uriens was assembled already for the evening meal: Avalloch; Avalloch's wife, Maline, and their young children; Uwaine, lanky and dark, with his three young foster-brothers and the priest who was their tutor; and below them at the long table the men-at-arms and their ladies, and the upper servants. As Uriens and Morgaine took their seats and Morgaine signalled to the servants to bring food, Maline's younger child began to clamor and shout.

  "Granny! I want to sit on Granny's knee! Want Granny to feed me!"

  Maline-a slender, fair-haired, pale young woman, heavily pregnant -frowned and said, "No, Conn, sit down prettily and be quiet!"

  But the child had already toddled to Morgaine's knee, and she laughed and lifted him up. I am an unlikely grandmother, she thought; Maline is almost as old as I. But Uriens' grandsons were fond of her, and she hugged the little boy close, taking pleasure in the feel of the small curly head digging into her waist, the grubby little fingers clutching at her. She sliced bits of pork with her knife and fed them to Conn from her own plate, then cut him a piece of bread in the shape of a pig.

  "See, now you have more pork to eat..." she said, wiping her greasy fingers, and turned her attention to her own meal. She ate but little meat, even now; she soaked her bread in the meat juices, but no more. She was quickly finished, while the rest were still eating; she leaned back in her chair and began to sing softly to Conn, who curled up contentedly in her lap. After a time she grew aware that they were all listening to her, and she let her voice drop away.

  "Please go on singing, Mother," Uwaine said, but she shook her head.

  "No, I am tired-listen, what did I hear in the courtyard?" She rose and signalled to one of the serving-men to light her to the doorway. Torch held high, he stood behind her, and she saw the rider come into the great courtyard. The serving-man stuck his torch into one of the wall brackets and hurried to help the rider dismount. "My lord Accolon!"

  He came, his scarlet cape swirling behind him like a river of blood. "Lady Morgaine," he said, with a deep bow, "or should I say-my lady mother?"

  "Please do not," Morgaine said impatiently. "Come in, Accolon, your father and brothers will be happy to see you."

  "As you are not, lady?"

  She bit her lip, suddenly wondering if she would weep. She said, "You are a king's son, as I am a king's daughter. Do I have to remind you how such marriages are made? It was not my doing, Accolon, and when we spoke together, I had no idea-" She stopped, and he looked down at her, then stooped over her hand.

  He said so softly that even the serving-man did not hear, "Poor Morgaine. I believe you, lady. Peace between us, then-Mother?"

  "Only if you do not call me Mother," she said, with a shred of a smile. "I am not so old. It is well enough for Uwaine-" and then, as they came back into the hall, Conn started upright and began to cry out again for "Granny!" Morgaine laughed, mirthlessly, and went back to pick up the toddler. She was aware of Accolon's eyes on her; she cast her own down at the child in her lap, listening silently as Uriens greeted his son.

  Accolon came formally to embrace his brother, to bow before his brother's wife; he knelt and kissed his father's hand and then turned to Morgaine. She said shortly, "Spare me further courtesies, Accolon, my hands are all pork fat, I have been holding the baby, and he is a messy feeder."

  "As you command, madam," said Accolon, going to the table and taking the plate one of the serving-women brought to him. But while he ate and drank, she was still conscious of his eyes.

  I am sure he is still angry with me. Asking my hand in the morning, and in the evening, seeing me promised to his father; no doubt he thinks I succumbed to ambition-why marry the king's son if you can have the king?

  "No," she said firmly, giving Conn a little shake, "if you are to stay in my lap you must be quiet and not paw at my dress with your greasy hands ... ."

  When he saw me last I was clad in scarlet and I was the king's sister, reputed a witch ... now I am a grandmother with a dirty child in my lap, looking after the housekeeping and nagging my old husband not to ride in mended boots which make his feet sore. Morgaine was acutely aware of every grey hair, every line in her face. In the name of the Goddess, why should I care what Accolon thinks of me? But she did care and she knew it; she was accustomed to having young men look at her and admire her, and now she felt that she was old, ugly, undesirable. She had never thought herself a beauty, but always before this she had been one of the younger people, and now she sat among the aging matrons. She hushed the child again, for Maline had asked Accolon what news of Arthur's court.

  "There is no news of great doings," Accolon said. "I think those days are over for our lifetime. Arthur's court is quiet, and the King still does penance for some unknown sin-he touches no wine, even at high feast days."

  "Has the Queen yet shown any signs of bearing him an heir?" Maline asked.

  "None," said Accolon, "though one of
her ladies told me before the mock games that she thought the Queen might be pregnant."

  Maline turned to Morgaine and said, "You knew the Queen well, did you not, mother-in-law?"

  "I did," said Morgaine, "and as for that rumor, well, Gwenhwyfar always thinks herself pregnant if her courses come a day late."

  "The King is a fool," said Uriens. "He should put her away and take some woman who would give him a son. I remember all too well what chaos ruled the land when they thought Uther would die with no son. Now the succession should be firmly established."

  Accolon said, "I have heard that the King has named one of his cousins for his heir-the son of Lancelet. I like that not-Lancelet is the son of Ban of Benwick, and we want no foreign High Kings reigning over our own."

  Morgaine said firmly, "Lancelet is the son of the Lady of Avalon, of the old royal line."

  "Avalon!" said Maline disdainfully. "This is a Christian land. What is Avalon to us now?"

  "More than you think," said Accolon. "I have heard that some of the country people, who remember the Pendragon, are not happy with so Christian a court as Arthur's, and remember that Arthur, before his crowning, took oath to stand with the folk of Avalon."

  "Yes," said Morgaine, "and he bears the great sword of the Holy Regalia of Avalon."

  "The Christians seem not to hold that against him," Accolon said, "and now I remember some news from the court-King Edric of the Saxons has turned Christian and came to be baptized, with all his retinue, at Glaston-bury, and he knelt and took oath before Arthur in token that all the Saxon lands accepted Arthur as High King."

  "Arthur? King over Saxons? Will wonders never cease!" Avalloch said. "I always heard him say he would deal with the Saxons only at the point of his sword!"

  "Yet there he was, the Saxon king, kneeling in Glastonbury church, and Arthur hearing his oath and taking him by the hand," said Accolon. "Perhaps he will marry the Saxon's daughter to the son of Lancelet and have done with all this fighting. And there sat the Merlin among Arthur's councillors, and one would have said he was as good a Christian as any of them!"