Child of the Northern Spring (Guinevere Trilogy)

by Persia Woolley

  A gasp of awe and admiration came from warrior and royalty alike as they looked on the mystery of Excalibur. Morgan le Fey’s voice rang out in triumph.

  “Forged in the fires of a windy night, it is invincible.

  “Worked by the dark of the moon, it is invincible.

  “Tempered in waters sacred to the Gods, it is invincible.

  “Risen now from the heart of the Lake, it is invincible.

  “No other blade will withstand its stroke.”

  Speechless, the men gaped as the Priestess lifted the scabbard in her other hand.

  “Behold also the sheath, enriched by my own hands with the spells of healing, that it may staunch the flow of blood for the man who wears it on his belt. Mark well this weapon’s magic; from this day forth it shall be the sign of Celtic destiny, shall give witness to the integrity of its owner, shall be the symbol by which all men know the choice of the Goddess. For there is only one man for whom Excalibur was made…the next High King of Britain.”

  The mountains round the dark water echoed with the applause of the monarchs, and only as it crested and began to die away did she lower the sword. Slowly and reverently she sheathed the weapon and cradled it in her arms as though it were her child.

  “Be it known that I have prayed, and sacrificed, and tested the auguries of bird and star, to be sure I understood what She has decreed. There is no taint of politics, no whisper of family favorites, nothing that could cast doubt upon the desire of the Morrigan Herself. In every trial that I have put before the candidate there has been only victory; She has made her choice unquestionably clear. Having served the Goddess faithfully, I present you now with the one She wishes to be High King.”

  The crowd grew silent, waiting for her to announce the Goddess’ choice. Without a word, the Lady gestured to a youth near the edge of the water. The boy came forward, dressed in plain homespun unadorned with any jewel save for the shining copper of his hair.

  “It’s Gawain; she’s giving the magic sword to Lot’s son,” the Kings whispered, staring in amazement as the lad walked through the cold, black whisper of water to stand before her.

  “He who draws forth this sword shall be the rightful king of Britain,” the Lady cried, laying the weapon across the boy’s outstretched palms.

  Gawain turned and, wading back to the shore, marched slowly toward a large outcrop of rock that thrusted upward along one side of the little vale.

  A flame burst suddenly from the pile of dry bracken at the base of the boulder, sheeting up in bright array and filling the glade with light. And when the smoke of the first blaze cleared, it could be seen that Gawain had climbed with Excalibur to the topmost ledge.

  The Priestess stood to one side, arms raised in blessing as her words carried through the dusk:

  “I present to you the High King of the Celts, monarch of Logres and Emperor of the whole of Britain…Arthur Pendragon!”

  A figure in simple white tunic and breeches stood revealed in the bonfire’s blaze, proud against the shadows of oncoming night. Gawain knelt before him and with profound humility offered up Excalibur.

  Arthur’s hand went round the golden hilt and slowly drew forth the shining blade. Then, with a great sweep of his arm, he brandished the Protector of the Realm above his head, saluting the royalty below who had gathered for this, his Investiture as their sovereign.

  “Arthur!” roared the crowd, “Arthur, King of the Celts!” while the fire flickered upward and the new king bent to Gawain and helped him to his feet.

  And so the ancient rites were held and the vows made between Celt and King. The very leaders who had most grudgingly surrendered on the field now gave him their hearts and fealty. With the presentation of Excalibur, Arthur became, at last, the legitimate leader of both Christian and Pagan Britain.

  ***

  “We who were there bring back this tale of great power and magical weapons that you may know a new era has begun. There is a new Sword of State, sanctioned by the Goddess Herself, raised from the black waters by the Lady and placed in the hands of the Chosen One by the son of his vanquished foe. May his reign be as spectacular as his beginning…Long live King Arthur!”

  Edwen finished on a rousing note, and the people picked up the cry and echoed it around the room.

  “Long live King Arthur!”

  I sat there stunned, knowing I was in my own Hall yet surrounded by the memory of the morning’s vision at Hardknott. Had it been so important, so great and powerful a moment in Britain’s destiny that the echo of it had lingered in the air, engulfing even the bystander on the mountaintop who had nothing to do with it?

  A rush of surprise and relief swept through me as the explanation hit home, and I joined in the accolade, clapping and cheering along with the rest. I was sitting next to Kaethi, and the old woman put her arm around my shoulder and gave me a warm hug—for no reason at all that I could see, but the camaraderie was infectious, and the singing and drinking lasted well into the night.

  ***

  Remnants of that festive mood mingled with the pleasant sounds of our progress, and I surveyed the present with bemusement. Travel had grown safer, with fewer bandits and less fear for wayfarers; the people seemed to be prospering and trade was flourishing; Rheged no longer suffered the raids of Urien’s men, and so far the truces between the various kingdoms were holding.

  It seemed the young King had indeed gotten his realm in hand, and was apparently doing something right.

  Chapter XXI

  Merlin

  I hope,” Bedivere said quizzically, “that you have no objection to sleeping in a meadow tonight…”

  I looked over at him sharply, wondering if he still thought me one of those fragile flowers of the south. His grin was spread from ear to ear, however, and I laughed in return.

  “I think I can manage,” I answered, glad of the chance to sleep in the fresh air.

  We made camp that evening in an open woodland where the hazel undergrowth had been newly coppiced. The cluster of tall straight poles that sprouted from each stump looked like columns of fluttering leaves, so dense was the growth. In the cleared areas around the base of each column a carpet of violets, primroses and cinquefoil had sprung up. It lay in colorful abundance between the green pillars and gave the woods a cheerful, cared-for air, reflecting the fact that the people hereabouts had both the time and the energy to husband the forests well.

  The women’s tent was pitched on the high ground of a meadow, and the men were making themselves comfortable around the edges of the cooking fire. Everyone was busy preparing for dinner and the coming night, and when Lavinia complained about having to walk down to the stream for water, I took a pitcher and headed for the bank myself. I wasn’t more than twenty paces beyond the camp when the boy who had charge of the litter caught up with me.

  “I’ll get the water, M’lady,” he said, reaching for the pitcher, “and you can go back to the tent.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind,” I answered, and seeing the consternation on his face, added, “I need the exercise, and it feels good to be doing something useful.”

  “No, you don’t understand. There’s strict orders that you’re not to go anywhere without an escort.”

  “Whose orders?” I asked suspiciously, wondering if they had guessed I might want to run away.

  “Why, the King’s, I suppose, though it was Merlin who sent me after you just now.”

  So much for the Magician’s pose as a sleepy old man! I stifled the quick retort that popped to mind as the boy fell into stride beside me.

  “What’s your name, lad?” I inquired.

  “Griflet, son of Ulfin,” he responded.

  “Have you been in the King’s service long?”

  “Well, in a way,” he hedged, his bright eyes twinkling. “My father was Master of the Wardrobe for King Uther, so I grew up helping him at court. I volunteered for this journey; it’s my first official job.”

  “How do you like it?” I asked, curious if he w
as really as open and frank as he seemed.

  “Oh, very much, Your Highness.”

  The formal title still sounded odd to my ear, and I suspected he was trying to ingratiate himself with me.

  “Oh, come now, Griflet,” I chided, “riding along beside two packhorses that are carrying an old lady in a litter can’t be that interesting!”

  He shrugged and grinned at me. “It beats polishing shoes.”

  It was my turn to grin then, amused as much by my own obtuseness as by the boy’s honesty.

  The brook ran fresh and clean, with rocky shallows and small pools. I began gathering handfuls of the cress which grew in the shallows while Griflet stooped to fill the pitcher.

  “Besides,” he went on cheerfully, “Bedivere put me in charge of the dog, so in the evenings I have him to play with.”

  “Oh, my word! I forgot all about the pup. How’s he holding up?”

  “Much better now. The first evening he was pretty scared and lonely, what with being away from his family and all. He whimpered a lot until I got up and took him into my bedroll, and then he calmed right down and slept all through the night. Since then he’s been just fine.”

  The boy was so obviously pleased with his own resourcefulness, I laughed. It was a good practical solution, though I wondered if he wasn’t finding himself being eaten by fleas.

  “He’s even got used to his name,” my companion went on, then stopped abruptly, perhaps remembering that the dog was not really his to name.

  “What do you call him?” I prompted, curious as to whether it would be a descriptive name or that of a hero.

  “Caesar,” he announced, and I flinched at a choice so obviously Roman in origin.

  “When I was a child we had a hound named Caesar, and it seemed right to call this dog after one I had loved,” the boy explained, and I ruefully reminded myself not to look for political goblins everywhere. “He’d be with us, still, the first Caesar that is, but for a boar hunt two years back. Boars are nasty things, M’lady, for all they provide good meat.”

  We’d returned to the crest of the meadow, and Griflet handed back the pitcher. On impulse I suggested that he bring the dog around for me to see after dinner, and we parted company.

  I took the cress to the cook, thinking how much like any other lad his age Griflet was. The fact that he’d been raised in a High King’s court didn’t seem to have affected him at all.

  The evening meal was simple and casual. Since there was no formal seating arrangement, I took my plate and went in search of Merlin, wanting to ascertain just how long I would be kept under guard. The Enchanter looked up sharply when I planted myself in front of him, and mumbled a reply to my greeting before going back to his meal. For some time he concentrated on his food, seemingly oblivious of the fact that my eyes never left his face. I prayed that he would acknowledge my presence pretty soon, for the longer I stared at his craggy countenance, the more of my courage evaporated.

  After finishing the last crumb of bread, he sighed elaborately and glanced up from under his brows. Finding me still watching him, he looked hastily back at his plate and began to hum a little song absently under his breath.

  Why, you old fraud, I thought suddenly. You’re every bit as frightened of me as I am of you!

  The idea was so surprising I smiled, wondering what sort of power he thought I, a young woman, would have compared with the scope of his; I could barely control my tongue, much less command my shape to change. Yet I could swear he was desperately wishing I would go away and leave him alone, and had no idea how to make that happen.

  “Well, uhm…” he said, putting his empty plate on the ground and pressing both hands against his knees in preparation for standing up. “It’s been a good trip so far, eh?”

  I nodded in assent, then gathered my courage and blurted out, “Why do you feel it necessary to keep me under guard, M’lord?”

  “Guard, child? What are you talking about?” He relaxed his arms, cautiously resigning himself to a conversation with me.

  “I understand I am not to be allowed to go anywhere without someone with me.”

  Merlin looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded slowly.

  “Ah, you mean on the Road, or when we’re exposed in the open, such as now. That’s just good common sense. You are the chosen bride of the High King, and it is our responsibility to get you to him safe and sound. It’s not as though you were under arrest, or anything like that. But you are in need of protection, whether you realize it or not. There are some among the Cumbri who would not scruple at using you to wound the new King. Now,” he added hastily, seeing the indignation on my face, “I don’t mean that as any reflection on you or your people. Rheged has always been loyal to Arthur, and most of the other kings have learned that Arthur is just and fair and not one to carry a grudge. Why, look at Urien! Opposed Arthur in outright war, and yet when the battle was over and treaties were being signed, Arthur took no vengeance on his opponent. He even supported Urien’s wife’s becoming the new High Priestess after Vivian was killed. No ruler who was mean or petty would dare give so much power to the King of Northumberland and Morgan le Fey together.

  “But there are always those few who are so fanatic in their beliefs they place themselves outside the law. It is from these that we wish to protect you.”

  I nodded, willing to concede that he meant the guards to be protectors, not jailers.

  “Have you known the Lady long?” I asked abruptly.

  “Dear girl, a man of my years has known practically everyone since they were children,” he opined, then looked back into the past. His voice, while not filled with the Power, had taken on the full, rich timber of a man in his prime. It seemed more fitting than the reedy tones of his old-man disguise, and I suspected he was speaking from a place closer to his own heart.

  “When I was a child there was a center of learning for those who wished to study with the Lady, only in those days it was located on the Tor at Ynys Witrin. Nowadays the Christians call the place Glastonbury and claim it as their own holy spot, and the Lady and her druids have moved up north, as you know.

  “I was sent to the Tor to study for the priesthood as a druid, and the one who was the Lady then took several of us as initiates into the Inner Secrets. Vivian and I were both chosen, so in a way you could say we grew up together. Full of mischief, she was then, and a bonnie lass as well.”

  He paused as if bemused by some fond memory, and I tried to picture any priestess of the Goddess as a young and playful girl. It was hard to imagine, so I waited patiently for him to come back from his reverie and focus on the present again.

  “What about the one who is Lady now?” I prompted.

  “Morgan? I think she’ll handle the power well enough, though she comes to it late. She was sent into a Christian convent when Uther married Igraine, and I think they expected her to stay there after she grew up. But she left to marry Urien.

  “Urien’s not much of a homebody, preferring the life of a warrior, so Morgan has had the freedom to explore all manner of things, including the Old Ways.”

  “M’lord,” I asked, curiosity making me bold, “would it be improper to inquire what it was that the Lady sent you in the packet, that made you laugh so heartily?”

  “Eh?” He had slipped back into the old man’s voice as though the conversation were over. My question must have touched some nerve, however, for he turned and looked at me sharply. “You were there, girl. What did you see?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Just so. The good Lady made me a present of the elusive fern seed, which is essential for one who wishes to become invisible.”

  He looked at me expectantly, and not knowing what else to do, I nodded and murmured, “Oh,” as though the whole mystery were explained.

  And on that note the Sorcerer rose to his feet, this time succeeding in putting an end to our chat.

  Griflet arrived with Caesar bounding along on a leash. Both of them were in rollicking high spirits, so we
went off to find Brigit and give her a chance to play with the pup as well.

  The dog responded to the Irish girl as though she were his lifelong friend instead of a new acquaintance, and his joyous enthusiasm was contagious. We took him out across the meadow, away from the temptations of the cooking area, and let him off the lead. With fierce growls and happy yips of triumph he gamboled about us, charging clumsily after a butterfly one moment and stopping to investigate a nodding yellow poppy the next.

  We romped along with him, glad for the chance to run and laugh, and when he dropped, tongue lolling and energy spent, we plopped down beside him in the grass.

  After we had caught our breath I asked Brigit how she was getting along with Lavinia in the litter. She grinned broadly and allowed that Vinnie seemed to view all Celts as heathen, even if they’d been Christians their whole lives long.

  “You can always come back and ride next to me if it gets too bad,” I reminded her, and she shook her head.

  “Thanks, but I’ll stay in the litter. I just hope that next time we have to travel so far we can go by boat.”

  Griflet had looked round when Brigit mentioned her religion, and on a hunch I asked him if his family was Christian.

  “Yes, M’lady. That is, my mother and I are. My father was initiated as one of Mithra’s followers, back when he was a lad.”

  “Doesn’t that make for problems, having two different gods under one roof?” I asked curiously, fending off Caesar, who was tugging on the cuff of my sleeve.

  “Not really. It’s mostly the bishops who make a fuss about it. The people at court follow lots of different beliefs. King Uther and his warriors favored the soldiers’ god, Mithra, but there’s some that keep the Old Ways, and both Celtic and Roman Christians gather to hear Mass together.”

  That was reassuring, for with so much diversity perhaps I would not be out of place after all.

  It was coming on to twilight and I knew Brigit would be wanting to find a quiet spot to say her evening prayers. Thinking that Griflet might wish to join her, I suggested that they go off together while Caesar and I waited until they returned.