The next morning after I had rested, I indulged in bathing in the Roman baths of the fortress. Clean clothes had been brought to me and were laid upon my bed, ready for my use. Only then had I felt truly refreshed.
Igraine’s attendants brought all manner of food and drink of which I might partake. I had been treated with all honours. If it has not been mentioned afore this, I have eaten little of the rich foods and meats that are common fare amoung the more affluent Britons. I prefer to eat a diet of Fruits, nuts, Vegetables, Fish – and when available, flat breads or raw Grains with honey. But I must say that upon that morning, I left behind my discipline of good health and enjoyed that meal as much as any I can remember.
When finally Igraine came to me, she said, “Those who give me Counsel have confirmed that all you have told will come to pass and that I must offer my body to this wicked and disgusting man, who would have slain my husband and raped me. And so, Merlin, for the sake of this household and my Sacred duty to Nodens’ Well, my children and my honour, I will do all that you bid me to. But know this: What issues from my womb of this mating will be yours – as this was your bargain with Uther – for as long as it lives.”
Any fool could have read Igraine’s thoughts... that she would “... strangle this unholy thing, conceived in hatred and violent lust, on the Day of its birth.”
“No Igraine... You must do no harm to the babe!”
“But I will! I will not raise what issues from this wickedness! This decision is what my own heart, as a woman and as a Mother, inclines me to. And I am that, too, Gwyddion! I am a woman made of Earth and I have feelings and a heart. I will carry this child to its birth, for to keep my promise to you, but after, if you come not soon enough to save it, I will kill it. Know this!”
“Oh Igraine, have you not heard a word I have said? This boy – your boy – is to become the greatest King ever known in Briton! He will unite all the Clans and Tribes of these Fair Isles. Oh, not in a unity of subservience, but of mutual trust and protection. I have Seen it all, Igraine. He will be a kind and generous King. A King who will not tear down the Old Ways. Is this not what you and your Dark Tribes have always longed for? ...to be left alone in peace and safety from all who dwell around you?”
Her only response was, “But, he will be Uther’s!”
She lowered her face into her hands and wept.
“Oh, Gwyddion, these are not the circumstances under which I would have met you. I have even Dreamt that you and I will be good friends one Day. Please excuse my bitter attitude, but this is the worst of all Times for me.”
It was then that I came upon an idea... Or perhaps, it came upon me.
Later that same Day, I went into the nearby village and found the perfect solution. Upon returning to Igraine’s fortress, I brought the conversation up once more.
“Lady, please believe me, I have your best interests in my heart. And I should like very much to become your friend, too. To this end, I have a suggestion for your consideration:
“With Gorlois gone, the Roman Guard and their wives will soon leave this fortress. Your husband’s troops must go on to their next command. They will only be allowed to stay long enough to salute him unto his funeral pyre. When they do leave, you will be bereft of help here. You and your daughters will need help without a husband or attendants. Might I bring a Roman Briton man – whose Mother was of the Clans, just as was Gorlois’ – who also has a wife of the Tribes, along with some of their folk here to help you run your lands and household? I have met them only today; however I feel that they are of good honour and most congenial people. And it would serve you well to have some friends here to comfort you in your loss.”
“Yes. I thank you, Gwyddion. I will trust your judgment in this matter.”
Unknown to Igraine, I had sought this childless couple because I knew Igraine’s vengeance upon Uther would be terrible. The arrangement, which I had proposed to them was, that I would awaken the wife’s womb with my Druid’s Magic, on the Night of the Full Moon, so that she would become with child. This I would do in exchange for their help. They must agree to go to Lady Igraine’s fortress with me, to offer their services as keepers, to help her run the fortress and lands. But always and only, must they keep me – and no one else – informed of any happening of import in the fortress, as a protection to Igraine, her daughters and the babes which would be born. I assured them that they would not be my spies... only would they keep me abreast of matters so that I might ensure the protection of all.
So, with the Fates’ indulgent blessings, it all came about.
On that very Night, whilst Uther lay with Igraine, this same man and woman had sexual intercourse. I blessed their union as the “Voices” had bidden me to do. I touched the woman’s belly so that she became pregnant... as did Igraine.
Morgan
My memory of that Night...
As I, Morgan, remember the happenings of that fateful Night and those times... and as I later learned them from my Mother Igraine and others, it all transpired as The Merlin had said it would.
On the Night of the Full Moon, Uther arrived with his armed guard and stormed the fortress, but he met no resistance. In fact, the gates were open wide and a great pyre was alight in the outer courtyard... weeping and quiet sobbing were heard all around. Uther then realised that he was too late to have his complete revenge upon Gorlois. Young as I was, this I read in his thoughts:
“Gwyddion, Damn it!”
Though I was but five years, I had glimmerings of the “Sight” already.
Now, Uther was, above all things, a Roman Warrior. He could not – would not – humiliate and dishonour himself by creating any more of a ruckus than he already had at the pyre of a fellow Roman Commander – a Dux, no less. Even though he had come here to murder this man who was his mortal enemy, he quickly signaled the order to his men, to still and dismount their War Stallions.
The pyre had been burning for hours...
There, across the courtyard from him we stood. Painted and adorned was Igraine, holding the hands of her two daughters. We were, all three, steadfast in quiet strength and dignity.
Uther waited in silence. But his eyes were always upon Igraine. All present waited for hours, until the pyre had consumed Gorlois’ body completely and had almost burned to cinders and ash. This was the measure of respect held for Gorlois.
Just as the Moon approached the zenith of the Sky – the Full Moon in the month of Planting – Igraine sent Morganna and me with our caretakers to our separate bedchambers. She told them to stay with us, to watch us and under no circumstances allow us to depart our rooms.
When my sister and I were being taken away, Uther approached Igraine.
She then said to him, “I will not give to you the satisfaction of raping me Uther, for I will give myself to you willingly. But, all the promises which you have made to The Merlin you must again confirm to me so that I may know that you will keep your word in these matters. Only then will I give myself to you in a way which you will never forget.”
Uther trembled. He was a little bit afraid of my Mother, and so should he have been.
He replied, “Then you must promise that this is all you will do to me and that you will not kill me this Night or any other Night or Day, nor curse evil down upon me – and that you will allow me and my company to leave at will. Do we have this agreement also between us? For, oh! Igraine, I have desired you so greatly from the moment I first saw you that never do you leave my thoughts. Your face is always before my eyes. I only want to share this needing with you. You are a Fire overwhelming me. And indeed, I will give myself to you in a way that I have never given myself to another. I think this Night is one that you will never forget, either.”
“I am sure of that, Lord Uther,” said Igraine, as she forced a smile to her lips.
She whispered into his ear, “Come, all is prepared.”
They went up the winding stairway to her bedchamber, which was next to where my Father’s had been.
When Uther
walked into her chamber, what he saw there were all the trappings of the Old Dark Tribes. There was a Roman mosaic on the floor. But instead of the usual scenes of Greek or Roman myths, it was full of Doe and Stag, Wolf, Serpent, Bear, Bee, Dolphin, Raven and Swan, all dancing in a mighty circle. Entwined with spirals and knot work was it, which seemed more ancient than those of the Clans. Her walls were covered in frescos of the twisted Elder Trees of the Dumnonian Woods, filled with Birds of all sorts. The ceiling was covered with five pointed Stars. And there were images of shadowy Idols on an Ancestor Altar, set into niches in the Stone walls. These were all stained in blue, as if echoing the black dots on Igraine’s forehead and cheekbones. Her whole bedchamber was as an exotic sensual phantasy.
The fragrance in her room was always intoxicating, yet soothing. It was the same perfume Igraine always bathed in... the same she must have worn on the Night Uther had first met her.
Uther lost himself... He began to tear off her clothes. She allowed him. He stripped her naked, he stripped off his weapons, his armor and his own clothes. They stood naked before each other. He was a finely built man and quite handsome... She loathed him! But she kept her word and used her skills at the Art of sex in such a way that he could not prolong himself and he came to his rapture quickly.
He said, “Nay, not so quickly, Igraine – you must wait and give yourself to me again for that was not enough. I was promised that my lust would be quenched this Night.”
“Alright.”
In a very few moments he was at it again and she fulfilled his every desire, just as she had promised.
Finally, in a couple of hours, he was well spent.
She then turned to him showing her loathing, raised her arm and pointed her first finger of Magic... and said, “Now, you will go... and you will never attempt to look upon my face again. You will leave me a woman who owns herself and fulfill all that you have vowed.
“As for this child we have made; it belongs to The Merlin... while it lives.”
A horror came over him... for Igraine was terrifying in this, her Dark Mother aspect. And he realised somehow that with this Night’s passion he had sealed his doom. He obeyed her. Fearful even to look upon her again, he dressed, put on his armor, and fled her presence.
Then Uther gathered his guard and they hastened away on their war Horses... whose breaths were steaming in the chill of the Night Air.
Uther rode forever into the Mists and out of our lives. Thus was the beginning of the undoing of Uther the Pen Dragon.
I remember that I had cried that Night – quietly so that no one else would hear. I cried until I thought my heart would break open and spill out onto my chamber floor! Even though only five years, I did feel my Mother’s great pain and anxiety upon that Night, although much of what happened I did not understand – not until many years later, when my Mother finally told me of the horrors of that Night. For the sake of my Mother’s dignity, did I never tell her of Morganna’s actions. I was evermore careful not to allow those memories to flow through my thoughts, lest she know.
Foolish tales have arisen now in my old age, that my Mother was a weak woman who had fallen hopelessly in Love with the man who had slain her husband.
Weak woman?!!! Forgotten by these stories is the beauty and power which was that of Igraine. But, these legends, and many more in my Time, are those written by Saxons and Christians. However, beyond these, I have “Seen” into the future, far beyond my lifetime and it offends me greatly that Igraine, the great Seer, Healer and Guardian of the Well, will be remembered as a woman of weakness; a pawn in the games of men. What can I do about lies and stories that will be told? Except to write and compile my histories in truth; in the earnest hope that they will come to light, linger and live for centuries upon centuries, even millennia upon millennia.
A note from Morgan...
Note these words – which I added to these histories when first I found the following pages so many years later – which had been left conspicuously on Morganna’s bed in her chamber, beneath the woolen covers, right where she knew that I would find them. That being on the occasion of our Mother’s funeral – which of course, Morganna did not attend.
Morganna Le Fay – Memoirs of an evil girl
I am Morganna, the daughter of Igraine the Seer and of Gorlois, the Dux of Dumnonia. I stood that Night at my Father’s funeral pyre as the great billowing smoke fled its way to the Stars... carrying with it my Father’s Spirit. I stood stoically. I was resolved within myself to shed not a tear, for that was unseemly. I looked around. Many people of the Dark Tribes had come to honour my Father for the kindnesses he had shown to them and the Old Ways. The drums of the Tribes were pulsing and their women were Humming.
Away from them stood a troop of Roman Guard, lined up perfectly, geometrically. And they as well, stood silent and still. These men were my Father’s compatriots. A great Commander had he been, when still he had his strength. It was way beyond that Time now... the proper Time for him to die and go to his Gods.
But, my Mother, out of her obsession for keeping the life within his body, had fed him her Roots and Herbs and said her Words of Making, so that he had lingered and lingered in his suffering. He was each Day less of the man he had once been. And I think, perhaps, he had made his Spirit stay within his body to please her – more for her than for me. I hated it, and I hated her for her meddling.
I had Loved my Father. He was the only one whom I had ever Loved, save for my Wildcat, Terror. Or Tear-Her... An amusing pun, is it not?
I have a sister, Morgan, who is seven years younger than I. She had passed her fifth year-turn by that Night. She stood there, too, by my Mother.
There were those of his household who were wailing for my Father and others who were quietly weeping, for he was beloved by many.
Whilst I stood watching the billowing smoke, I thought, “So, it is done!”
With the rising smoke from the pyre of my Father Gorlois, the last of the foolish sentiments of kindness and empathy went out of me forever. Now I was free. Free to be who and what Creature I would be. Never again would I allow anyone or anything to keep me in hesitation from whatever I wanted.
My thoughts had been interrupted... A large man – Uther the Pen Dragon and his Guard – came into the funeral scene, raising a ruckus of sound and dust disturbing my Father’s honours. It seemed that when they realised what was happening, they, as Romans, dismounted and stood quietly in honour of the Dux of Dumnonia.
I was resolved to show no grief. I clenched my teeth together and stared at Uther, focusing on my hatred.
My thoughts shouted: “You have come too late to do your wickedness toward my Father. You have come too late to seek your revenge. Or, have you? Will you seek your revenge now upon my Mother, then? No, not revenge upon Igraine, but lust!”
For I was there hiding and heard all that passed between The Merlin, my Father Gorlois, and Igraine, at the hour of my Father’s Death, three Nights past. And I knew of all their lofty plans.
How clever a girl I am, thought I, to be able to fool the great Igraine and the Druid – Gwyddion, The Merlin – for none did even realise that I was there.
But count my words; I will have my revenge upon you some Day, Uther – not for disgracing my Mother, for she will go willingly into your arms this Night – but for your threats against my Father and against our house.
So, I stood and glared at him. His eyes never left Igraine and in them I could see the Fire of a great lust. So be it, then.
When all was over – my Father reduced to ash – my Mother put me, a young woman of twelve years, into the charge of the children's caregiver, Rhonwen, who was instructed to keep us, my sister and I, locked in our chambers for the Night. As if some foolish old servant could keep me, Morganna Le Fay, from escaping and from the seeing of all the events that took place on that fateful Night. I went willingly, but as soon as the hallways were clear, I Cast an Enchantment upon her, so as to make her fall asleep – completely into a deep Tr
ance, so that nothing could awaken her.
I had great power, this I knew. Just by looking into someone’s eyes, whilst hissing words of power with my Serpent’s tongue, could I numb almost anyone into doing my bidding.
It has been said that only the great Merlin had this skill. But this was not so, for even at twelve years, it was mine as well! For the Magics that Igraine had taught to me I had learned very well, practiced much, and added to them, until I had gained even more strength in some of the Arts than she.
My Magic arises not from the same source as hers; my powers come from that which lurks in the shadows – on the other side of the mirror. And of this I will write no more.
But these things Igraine did not know and that is how I could deceive her so. A Mother’s crippling Love – or hope – blinded her. Also, have I kept my own counsel. I am a good secret keeper. This has served me well in all of my life thus far.
So, just as we had done three Nights before, Terror and I crept to my Mother’s bedchamber and with the Glamour of invisibility, I hid myself – even from the great Igraine.
Thus it was that upon that fateful Night, I watched as Igraine was stripped of her clothing and dignity, while Uther, whom I hated, stood before her naked with his huge, throbbing cock standing straight upright. He – filled with foolish desire for a woman who loathed him.
I watched as my Mother used the Arts of Lovemaking and of sexual ecstasy, which she had learned so well, to inflame and bring Uther to one after another thundering, Earth shattering climax! I became greatly aroused watching Uther with my Mother. She was very beautiful. I wanted Igraine! She was desirable. I looked just like her, only of course, I was younger.
I had been born old and was far beyond other girls of my age in the knowing of and acting upon sexual desire. Why, I had already had many young women, a few young boys, and several older men as well, in these ways.
It was very interesting to me to watch Igraine with him. It struck me then that it was like watching myself perform these acts of sexuality. How I wish that I could do just that – watch myself. I will work on that; perhaps Magically I may attain the ability to watch myself from beyond my body, for I do like to watch sex, as much as I like having it.
Voices of the Stars Page 8
