The Mists of Avalon

by Marion Marion Bradley

  "I am honored, m-my king," Uwaine stammered, his face glowing, and in that moment Morgaine saw something of how Arthur had inspired such great devotion.

  "Uriens, my good brother-in-law," said Arthur, "I leave the Queen in your care-remain at Camelot and guard her till I return." He bent to kiss Gwenhwyfar's hand. "My lady, I beg you to excuse us from further feasting-there is war upon us again."

  Gwenhwyfar was white as her shift. "And you know it is welcome to you, my lord. God keep you, dear husband." And she leaned forward to kiss him. He rose and went down from the dais, beckoning.

  "Gawaine, Lionel, Gareth-all of you-Companions, attend me!"

  Lancelet delayed for a moment before following him. "Bid me also God's blessing as I ride, my queen."

  "Oh, God-Lancelet-" Gwenhwyfar said, and, regardless of the eyes on her, she flung herself into his arms. He held her, gently, speaking so softly that Morgaine could not hear, but Morgaine saw that she was weeping. But when she raised her head her face was dry and tearless. "God speed you, my dearest love."

  "And God keep you, love of my heart," Lancelet said very softly. "Whether I return or no, may he bless you." He turned to Morgaine. "Now indeed do I rejoice that you are to pay a visit to Elaine. You must bear my greetings to my dear wife, and tell her I have gone with Arthur to the rescue of my kinsman Bors from this knave who calls himself the Emperor Lucius. Tell her I pray God to keep her and care for her, and send my love to our children."

  He stood for a moment silent, and for a moment Morgaine thought he would kiss her too; instead, smiling, he laid his hand against her cheek. "God bless you too, Morgaine-whether or no you want his blessing." He turned to join Arthur where the Companions were gathering in the lower hall.

  Uriens came to the dais and bowed to Gwenhwyfar. "I am at your service, my lady."

  If she laughs at the old man, Morgaine thought with a sudden, fierce protectiveness, I will slap her! Uriens meant well, and the duty was no more than ceremonial, a minor tribute to kinship; Camelot would be very well in the hands of Cai and Lucan, as always. But Gwenhwyfar was accustomed to diplomacy at court. She said gravely, "I thank you, sir Uriens. You are most welcome here. Morgaine is my dear friend and sister, and I will be happy to have her near me at court again."

  Oh, Gwenhwyfar, Gwenhwyfar, what a liar you are! Morgaine said sweetly, "But I must ride forth and visit my kinswoman Elaine. Lancelet charged me to bear his news."

  "You are always kind," said Uriens, "and since the war is not in our countryside, but across the channel, you shall go when you wish. I would ask Accolon to escort you, but it is likely he must ride with Arthur to the coast."

  He really would leave me in Accolon's care; he thinks good of everyone, Morgaine thought, and kissed her husband with real warmth. "When I have paid my visit to Elaine, my lord, may I have leave to visit my kinswoman in Avalon?"

  "You may do your own will, my lady," said Uriens, "but before you go, will you unpack my things? My valet can never do it so well as you. And will you leave some of your herbal salves and medicines for me?"

  "To be sure," she said, and as she went to make all ready for her journey, she thought with resignation that no doubt, before they parted, he would want to sleep with her this night. Well, she had endured it before this, she could do so again.

  What a whore I have grown!

  12

  Morgaine knew that she dared make this journey only if she made it one step at a time, one league at a time, one day at a time. Her first step, then, was to Pellinore's castle; bitter irony, that her first mission was a kindly message to Lancelet's wife and his children.

  All that first day she followed the old Roman road northward through rolling hills. Kevin had offered to escort her, and she had been tempted; the old fear gripped her, that she would not find the way to Avalon this time either, not dare to summon the Avalon barge; that she would wander again into the fairy country and be lost there forever. She had not dared go after Viviane's death ... .

  But now she must meet this test, as when she had first been made priestess ... cast out of Avalon alone, with no test save this, that she must be able somehow to return ... by her own strength, not Kevin's, she must win entry there again.

  Still she was frightened; it had been so long.

  On the fourth day she came within sight of Pellinore's castle, and at noon of that day, riding along the marshy shores of the lake which now bore no trace of the dragon which once had lurked there (though her serving-man and woman shivered and clung together and told each other horrible tales of dragons), she caught sight of the somewhat smaller dwelling which Pellinore had given to Elaine and Lancelet when they were wedded.

  It was more villa than castle; in these days of peace there were not many fortified places in that countryside. Broad lawns sloped down toward the road, and as Morgaine rode up toward the house, a flock of geese sent up a great squawk.

  A well-dressed chamberlain greeted her, asking her name and business.

  "I am the lady Morgaine, wife of King Uriens of North Wales. I bear a message from the lord Lancelet."

  She was taken to a room where she could wash and refresh herself, then conducted to the great hall, where a fire burned and wheat cakes were set before her, with honey and a flask of good wine. Morgaine found herself yawning at the ceremoniousness of this-she was, after all, a kinswoman, not a state visitor. After a time, a small boy peered into the room, and when he saw that she was alone, came in. He was fair, with blue eyes and a splashing of golden freckles on his face, and she knew at once whose son he was, though he was nothing like his father.

  "Are you the lady Morgaine that they call Morgaine of the Fairies?"

  Morgaine said, "I am. And I am your cousin, Galahad."

  "How do you know my name?" he asked suspiciously. "Are you a sorceress? Why do they call you Morgaine of the Fairies?"

  She said, "Because I am of the old royal line of Avalon, and fostered there. And I know your name, not from sorcery, but because you look like your mother, who is also my kinswoman."

  "My father's name is Galahad too," said the child, "but the Saxons call him Elf-arrow."

  "I came here to bear your father's greetings to you, and to your mother, and to your sisters too," Morgaine said.

  "Nimue is a silly girl," said Galahad. "She is a big girl, five years old, but she cried when my father came and would not let him pick her up and kiss her, because she did not recognize him. Do you know my father?"

  "Indeed I do," said Morgaine. "His mother, the Lady of the Lake, was my foster-mother and my aunt."

  He looked skeptical and frowned. "My mother told me that the Lady of the Lake is an evil sorceress."

  "Your mother is-" Morgaine stopped and softened the words; he was, after all, only a child. "Your mother did not know the Lady as I did. She was a good and wise woman, and a great priestess."

  "Oh?" She could see Galahad struggling with this concept. "Father Griffin says that only men can be priests, because men are made in God's image and women are not. Nimue said that she wanted to be a priest when she grew up, and learn to read and write and play upon the harp, and Father Griffin told her that no woman could do all these things, or any of them."

  "Then Father Griffin is mistaken," said Morgaine, "for I can do them all and more."

  "I don't believe you," Galahad said, surveying her with a level stare of hostility. "You think everyone is wrong but you, don't you? My mother says that little ones should not contradict grown-ups, and you look as if you were not so much older than I. You aren't much bigger, are you?"

  Morgaine laughed at the angry child and said, "But I am older than either your mother or your father, Galahad, even though I am not very big."

  There was a stir at the door and Elaine came in. She had grown softer, her body rounded, her breasts sagging-after all, Morgaine told herself, she had borne three children and one was still at the breast. But she was still lovely, her golden hair shining as bright as ever, and she embraced Morgaine a
s if they had met but yesterday.

  "I see you have met my good son," she said. "Nimue is in her room being punished-she was impertinent to Father Griffin-and Gwennie, thank Heaven, is asleep-she is a fussy baby and I was awake with her much of the night. Have you come from Camelot? Why did my lord not ride with you, Morgaine?"

  "I have come to tell you about that," Morgaine said. "Lancelet will not ride home for some while. There is war in Less Britain, and his brother Bors is besieged in his castle. All of Arthur's Companions have gone to rescue him and put down the man who would be emperor."

  Blame's eyes filled with tears, but young Galahad's face was eager with excitement. "If I were older," he said, "I would be one of the Companions and my father would make me a knight and I would ride with them, and I would fight these old Saxons-and any old emperor too!"

  Elaine heard the story and said, "This Lucius sounds to me like a madman!"

  "Mad or sane, he has an army and claims it in the name of Rome," Morgaine said. "Lancelet sent me to see you, and bade me kiss his children -though I doubt not this young man is too big to be kissed like a babe," she said, smiling at Galahad. "My stepson, Uwaine, thought himself too big for that when he was about your size, and a few days ago he was made one of Arthur's Companions."

  "How old is he?" asked Galahad, and when Morgaine said fifteen, he scowled furiously and began to reckon up on his fingers.

  Elaine asked, "How looked my dear lord? Galahad, run away to your tutor, I want to speak with my cousin," and when the child had gone, she said, "I had more time to speak with Lancelet before Pentecost than in all the years of our marriage. This is the first time in all these years that I have had more than a week of his company!"

  "At least he did not leave you with child this time," said Morgaine.

  "No," said Elaine, "and he was very considerate and did not seek my bed during those last weeks while we waited together for Gwen's birth- he said that I was so big, it would be no pleasure to me. I would not have refused him, but to tell the truth I think he cared not at all ... and there's a confession for you, Morgaine."

  "You forget," said Morgaine with a grim little smile, "I have known Lancelet all my life."

  "Tell me," Elaine said, "I swore, once, I would never ask you this- was Lancelet your lover, did you ever lie with him?"

  Morgaine looked at her drawn face and said gently, "No, Elaine. There was a time when I thought-but it came never to that. I did not love him, nor did he love me." And to her own surprise, she knew the words were true, though she had never known it before.

  Elaine stared at the floor, where a patch of sunlight came in through an old, discolored bit of glass that had been there since Roman days. "Morgaine-while he was at Pentecost, did he see the Queen?"

  "Since Lancelet is not blind, and since she sat on the dais beside Arthur, I suppose he did," Morgaine said dryly.

  Elaine made an impatient movement. "You know what I speak of!"

  Is she still so jealous? Does she hate Gwenhwyfar so much? She has Lancelet, she has borne his children, she knows he is honorable, what more does she want? But before the younger woman's nervously twisting hands, the tears which seemed to hang on her eyelashes, Morgaine softened. "Elaine, he spoke with the Queen, and he kissed her in farewell when the call to arms came. But I vow to you, he spoke as courtier to his queen, not as lover to lover. They have known one another since they were young, and if they cannot forget that once they loved in a way that comes not twice to any man or woman, why should you begrudge them that? You are his wife, Elaine, and I could tell when he bade me bear you his message, he loves you well."

  "And I swore to be content with no more, did I not?"

  Elaine lowered her head for a long moment, and Morgaine saw her blinking furiously, but she did not cry, and at last she raised her head. "You who have had so many lovers, have you ever known what it is to love?"

  For a moment Morgaine felt herself swept by the old tempest, the madness of love which had flung her and Lancelet, on a sun-flooded hill in Avalon, into each other's arms, which had brought them together again and again, until it all ended in bitterness ... by main will she forced away the memory and filled her mind with the thought of Accolon, who had roused again the sweetness of womanhood in her heart and body when she had felt old, dead, abandoned ... who had brought her back to the Goddess, who had made her again into a priestess ... she felt bands of crimson rising in quick successive waves over her face. Slowly, she nodded. "Yes, child. I have known-I know what it is to love."

  She could see that Elaine wanted to ask a hundred other questions, and she thought how happy it would be to share all this with the one woman who had been her friend since she left Avalon, whose marriage she had made -but no. Secrecy was a part of the power of a priestess, and to speak of what she and Accolon had known would be to bring it outside of the magical realm, make her no more than a discontented wife sneaking to the bed of her stepson. She said, "But now, Elaine, there is something more to speak of. Remember, you made me a vow once-that if I helped you to win Lancelet, you would give me what I asked of you. Nimue is past five years old, old enough for fostering. I ride tomorrow for Avalon. You must make her ready to accompany me."

  "No!" It was a long cry, almost a shriek. "No, no, Morgaine-you cannot mean it!"

  Morgaine had been afraid of this. Now she made her voice distant and hard.

  "Elaine. You have sworn it."

  "How could I swear for a child not yet born? I knew not what it meant -oh, no, not my daughter, not my daughter-you cannot take her from me, not so young!"

  Again Morgaine said, "You have sworn it."

  "And if I refuse?" Elaine looked like a spitting cat ready to defend her kittens against a large and angry dog.

  "If you refuse," Morgaine's voice was as quiet as ever, "when Lancelet comes home, he shall hear from me how this marriage was made, how you wept and begged me to put a spell on him so that he would turn from Gwenhwyfar to you. He thinks you the innocent victim of my magic, Elaine, and blames me, not you. Shall he know the truth?"

  "You would not!" Elaine was white with horror.

  "Try me," Morgaine said. "I know not how Christians regard an oath, but I assure you, among those who worship the Goddess, it is taken in all seriousness. And so I took yours. I waited till you had another daughter, but Nimue is mine by your pledged word."

  "But-but what of her? She is a Christian child-how can I send her from her mother into-into a world of pagan sorceries ... ?"

  "I am, after all, her kinswoman," Morgaine said gently. "How long have you known me, Elaine? Have you ever known me do anything so dishonorable or wicked that you would hesitate to entrust a child to me? I do not, after all, want her for feeding to a dragon, and the days are long, long past when even criminals were burnt on altars of sacrifice."

  "What will befall her, then, in Avalon?" asked Elaine, so fearfully that Morgaine wondered if Elaine, after all, had harbored some such notions.

  "She will be a priestess, trained in all the wisdom of Avalon," said Morgaine. "One day she will read the stars and know all the wisdom of the world and the heavens." She found herself smiling. "Galahad told me that she wished to learn to read and write and to play the harp-and in Avalon no one will forbid her this. Her life will be less harsh than if you had put her to school in some nunnery. We will surely ask less of her in the way of fasting and penance before she is grown."

  "But-but what shall I say to Lancelet?" wavered Elaine.

  "What you will," said Morgaine. "It would be best to tell him the truth, that you sent her to fosterage in Avalon, that she might fill the place left empty there. But I care not whether you perjure yourself to him-you may tell him that she was drowned in the lake or taken by the ghost of old Pellinore's dragon, for all care."

  "And what of the priest? When Father Griffin hears that I have sent my daughter to become a sorceress in the heathen lands-"

  "I care even less what you tell him," Morgaine said. "If you choose to tell hi
m that you put your soul in pawn for my sorceries to win yourself a husband, and pledged your first daughter in return-no? I thought not."

  "You are hard, Morgaine," said Elaine, tears falling from her eyes. "Cannot I have a few days to prepare her to go from me, to pack such things as she will need-"

  "She needs not much," said Morgaine. "A change of shift if you will, and warm things for riding, a thick cloak and stout shoes, no more than that. In Avalon they will give her the dress of a novice priestess. Believe me," she added kindly, "she will be treated with love and reverence as the granddaughter of the greatest of priestesses. And they will-what is it your priests say-they will temper the wind to the shorn lamb. She will not be forced to austerities until she is of an age to endure them. I think she will be happy there."

  "Happy? In that place of evil sorcery?"

  Morgaine said, and the utter conviction of her words struck Elaine's heart, "I vow to you-I was happy in Avalon, and every day since I left, I have longed, early and late, to return thither. Have you ever heard me lie? Come-let me see the child."

  "I bade her stay in her room and spin in solitude till sunset. She was rude to the priest and is being punished," said Elaine.

  "But I remit the punishment," said Morgaine. "I am now her guardian and foster-mother, and there is no longer any reason to show courtesy to that priest. Take me to her."

  THEY RODE FORTH the next day at dawn. Nimue had wept at parting with her mother, but even before they were gone an hour, she had begun to peer forth curiously at Morgaine from under the hood of her cloak. She was tall for her age, less like Lancelet's mother, Viviane, than like Morgause or Igraine; fair-haired, but with enough copper in the golden strands that Morgaine thought her hair would be red when she was older. And her eyes were almost the color of the small wood violets which grew by the brooks.

  They had had only a little wine and water before setting out, so Morgaine asked, "Are you hungry, Nimue? We can stop and break our fast as soon as we find a clearing, if you wish."