Grail pc-5

by Stephen R. Lawhead

  Arthur signalled the Grail Guardians to take their places, which we did, standing in a wide double rank to form a narrow pathway through which the people might pass into the shrine. Men and women, young and old, hastened forward, jostling one another in their eagerness to kneel before the Grail and offer up their own heartfelt prayers.

  Once begun, the flood became a tideflow which washed up the side of the hill and into the shrine. We Guardians stood and watched them come, some anxious and halting, some so a-tremble with awe that they could hardly move, some with touching reverence, others bold, as if they would lay hold of the kingdom and claim its mighty promise for themselves.

  No matter how they went in, all emerged changed – some more, some less, but no one who entered the shrine remained the same after having seen the Grail. I saw one old woman with a withered hand emerge with her hand restored, and a man on a wooden crutch walked out on two strong legs to throw the stick as far away as he could hurl it. Another man, so ill he lacked the strength to walk, was brought to the altar by his friends, only to emerge leaping and jumping for joy.

  These were but the first of many healed that day. I saw men and women bent double by grief and care enter the shrine, and leave with heads high and the fire of hope shining in their faces. Many emerged with tears glistening in their eyes and on their cheeks; more than a few had to be removed from the shrine: dazzled by the glory of the Blessed Cup and overcome by the holiness of the moment, they were transported into a rapture of bliss and were borne out by kinsmen and friends.

  The evening stars were shining in the eastern sky when the last of the worshippers departed. Bishop Elfodd lit the torches either side of the doorway, and replaced the Grail in its wooden casket. Only then were we able to sit down and rest our aching feet. Despite watching all day, Bedwyr, Cai, and Cador volunteered to take the first night's watch. Llenlleawg and I were allowed to return to the Tor – with Cai's admonition to remember the watchers their supper.

  The first night passed peacefully in the Summer Realm, and the next day remained so tranquil and serene it was easy to believe that the world had indeed changed. The few folk who visited the shrine went away manifestly blessed – one crippled woman, a girl given to fits, and two boys with skin diseases were healed. The prevailing mood of peace and elation made our guard duty pure pleasure. We ended the second blissful day full of brotherly love and kindly thoughts for all mankind.

  Ah, but word of the miracles accomplished in the presence of the Grail was spreading through the land. Already the news had gone out beyond the borders of the realm, and like a spear hurled from the hand, there was no calling it back.

  TWENTY-ONE

  All night long, visitors streamed into the valley. To everyone's surprise, there were more than a few Saecsens among them. How word had flown so far so fast was more than I could credit. Obviously, they had been travelling day and night to reach the Grail Shrine and, once arrived, they waited patiently, sitting in groups on the ground, or sleeping on the hillside. The monks brought food and water, and cared for the sick through the night until they could be admitted to the shrine the next morning.

  Arthur, upon receiving information that Saecsens were coming to the shrine, was visibly delighted, and declared that the Grail was already fulfilling its highest purpose. 'One day,' he said, 'every citizen of Britain will have made his way to this place to see the Most Holy Grail, and the world will be made new.'

  There was much in what the Pendragon said. For on the third day more people came to the shrine, and the arrivals did not stop at dusk, when the Grail Shrine was closed; the people kept coming, and were contented to wait through the night to be admitted the next morning. On the fourth day the numbers swelled; a steady flow of visitors trickled into the valley all through the day and into the night. By the fifth day it was clear that the numbers were steadily rising; thus, the chore of guarding the shrine was growing increasingly wearing for the five Guardians.

  Admittedly, if even one of us had thought beyond that first day's duty, we might have seen how inept our scheme really was. If we had not been distracted by the blissful exhilaration of our position, and if we had properly understood the nature of the object we were guarding, we might have anticipated the eagerness of the people, driven by desperation and need to obtain healing.

  Thus, it did not take a bard's wisdom to see that our simpleminded notion of five Grail Guardians standing perpetual watch was – after only a few days – breaking down under the sheer weight of numbers. Clearly, a new plan was needed.

  'Brothers,' said Bedwyr as we looked out upon the gathered pilgrims in the fading light – so many had arrived through the day that they would not now get in to see the Grail until the morning – 'you are mighty men all, and far above me in every way. No doubt you could stand before the shrine day and night for a thousand years and never feel the strain, but I cannot. In short, I am tired.'

  As if to demonstrate his point, he yawned, and said, 'We must have help, and I see no reason why the Cymbrogi should fritter away the days in idle pursuits while we labour on. It is neither fitting nor right.'

  'Are you suggesting that we compel our swordbrothers to help shoulder this duty?' I asked.

  'I am suggesting that very thing,' confirmed Bedwyr with' another yawn.

  'Man, why did you not speak up the sooner?' blurted Cai. 'It is all I can do to put one foot in front of the other, and here am I thinking you enjoy standing like a pillar all day long.'

  'As much as I enjoy it,' Cador remarked, 'I yet might be persuaded to let a few of the Cymbrogi take my place – if my brother Guardians were so disposed.'

  That is the Cador I know,' Bedwyr replied, adopting an admiring tone, 'generous to the last. As for myself, I deem it no less an honour for sharing it among my swordbrothers. Let them have it, I say!'

  'Then it is settled,' I said. 'We all agree that the duty should be shared out among the Cymbrogi.'

  'Llenlleawg has not said what he thinks,' Cai pointed out, indicating the tall Irishman standing silent as a pillar.

  'Well?' inquired Bedwyr, swinging towards the Irishman. 'What say you, Llenlleawg?'

  Arthur's champion shrugged. 'If everyone else agrees,' he muttered, glancing away and down, 'I am for it.'

  Bedwyr stared at him for a moment, as if trying to decide what ailed the man. 'So!' he said, turning away abruptly. 'We have made our first addition to the rules of order.'

  As the last of the day's visitors made their way into the shrine, we then fell to discussing how to divide the watch, and it was quickly decided that one Grail Guardian should stand as overseer to eight of the Cymbrogi. To further ease the hardship of the duty, the day guard would be relieved at sunset by those who were chosen to watch the night. Thus, we would only be required to stand one watch in every five – an obviously superior arrangement, for we would enjoy a day of rest between. We then drew straws to see who would begin the new order of rotation. As luck would have it, I drew the next day's watch, but Llenlleawg drew the short straw and was forced to stand watch that very night, after having stood guard all day. Though luck went against him, he made no complaint.

  While there were still many people waiting in the gathering twilight, we had no choice but to declare the shrine closed. Bedwyr told the people the Grail Shrine would open again at dawn, and the attending monks bade those in need to come to the monastery for food and shelter. One old man became agitated at this announcement and began shouting. 'I have waited all day!' he said. 'I cannot wait any longer.'

  'Just until tomorrow, friend,' said the monk firmly, but not unkindly.

  'Tomorrow will be too late,' the man insisted, his voice and shoulders shaking with the effort. He carried a long stick, which he leaned on for support. 'Please, I must see the Cup of Christ tonight.'

  'Come to the abbey and we will take care of you,' the monk told him. 'You can come back in the morning.'

  'I am old and sick. I may die tonight!' the man said stubbornly, and turned to appeal to Bedw
yr. 'You there! You are the king's man – you can let me see the cup before I die. Please!'

  The monk took hold of the old man's arm and made to lead him away. Bedwyr intervened, however. 'Wait! Let him in. But no more today – he will be the last.'

  The monk relented and led the old man forward. They entered the shrine and Bedwyr undertook to inform all the other visitors that food would be provided at the abbey for any who required it, and that they were welcome to return to the shrine at dawn, when they would be cheerfully admitted. The people muttered over this, but accepted their lot and began making their way down the hill to the valley below, where most of them would spend the night.

  The rest of us, meanwhile, fell to discussing who should make up the watch for the night. We quickly chose the guard and informed Bedwyr when he rejoined us; a moment later, the old man emerged from the shrine. He walked directly to Bedwyr, seized his hand, and kissed it, saying, 'Bless you, son. Bless you. Bless you,' ducking his head with each benison. 'I can die a happy man,' he said, and then walked away, carrying his stick in his hand.

  'A friend for life,' Cai observed. 'Now let us be gone.'

  Llenlleawg wished us a restful sleep in our good, soft beds, and bade us remember him his supper. He then urged us to haste lest he starve before the food should reach him.

  We promised to send his supper along with those who were to take the watch with him that night, whereupon Bedwyr, Cai, and I rode back to Ynys Avallach. We passed through the gate to find the yard alight with torches and filled with people and horses. 'Someone important has come,' one of the Cymbrogi told me as I dismounted.

  'Who?' I asked, but he did not know.

  Thinking it might be Gwalcmai, I threw the fellow the reins and commanded him to take care of my mount. While Bedwyr called for volunteers to stand guard duty, I ran to the hall to welcome, not my brother, alas, but someone almost as dear and good to me: Bors.

  See now: I have known Bors for a long time. He and his brother, King Ban of Benowyc, were among the first of the Pendragon's advocates. Having supported Aurelius and Uther -Arthur's father and uncle, the first High Kings of Britain – they had aided the young Dux Britanniarum in his struggles to unite the lords of Britain and conquer the Saecsens. For Bors, that meant more than merely providing men; he had joined the Cymbrogi and lent his sword to the cause.

  For seven years he, like all the rest of us, fought alongside Arthur. Following the defeat of the Saecsens at Baedun, and Arthur's kingmaking and wedding, Bors returned home to help his brother out of some difficulty or other. Summoned from Armorica to help fight the Vandali, he had at last arrived – just in time to help celebrate the enshrinement of the Grail – and now stood drinking ale and laughing with Arthur and Gwenhwyvar. 'If you could not resist finishing off the Black Boar,' the prince of Benowyc was saying, 'you might at least have saved one of his piglets for me. Here I have come to feast on pork – only to be given cakes and ale instead.'

  'Did you think to fight the Vandali alone?' I remarked, striding up beside him.

  'Where is your warband?' asked Bedwyr.

  'Welcome, brother,' said Cai. 'We feared your pilot had lost his way on that ocean of yours.'

  'Gwalchavad! Bedwyr! Cai!' he shouted with husky heartiness, embracing us with his free hand. 'Bless me, but it is good to see you again. I tell you the truth, we met Arthur's messenger halfway, so I sent the warriors home and came on alone.'

  He did not say it, but with Britain sore beset by plague and drought, no doubt it was safer for his men to remain in Armorica. Turning to Arthur, he said, 'I am heartily sorry I could not come to you sooner, Bear. But the Frencs grow ever more contentious and will not be appeased so easily as in the past. We had our hands full through the summer, I tell you. Still, Ban would have me beg your pardon for the delay.'

  'There is no need,' said Arthur, waving aside the apology. 'Tell me, how fares your brother?'

  'Ban sends his greetings to one and all, and asks to be remembered by his former swordbrothers. As ever, he is desirous of coming to Britain one day soon, "when kingly duties weigh less heavily upon the crowned head," as he says.'

  'If that is the case,' I ventured, 'then he will likely remain in Benowyc forever. I have never known a man so able at producing work out of thin air.'

  'Too true,' agreed Bors. 'I tell him the same thing myself, but he can always find a thousand things begging to be done, and it is "Who will do them if I leave?" and thus he keeps himself busy year to year.' Turning to Arthur, he said, 'Now, then, what am I hearing about this Grail of yours?'

  'It saved Arthur's life,' Gwenhwyvar replied. 'If not for the Grail, Britain would be in mourning now. The Holy Cup healed his wounds and restored his life.'

  'Then it is true?' Bors wondered, turning wide eyes towards Arthur. 'From the moment we made landfall, I have heard nothing but talk of this Holy Grail. I thought it must be one of those peculiar rumours that surface from time to time – like that enormous serpent living in the lake up north.'

  'Afanc,' I told him. 'I know a man who saw it snatch one of his cows from the shore of the lake where it was grazing. I myself have seen it.'

  'The serpent?' asked Bors in astonishment.

  'No, the lake.'

  They all laughed at this, and Bors thrust the cup into my hands. 'Drink, brother! Ah, but it is good to be back among true friends.'

  Rhys arrived while Bors was speaking and whispered something to the king. 'I fear, Lord Bors,' said Arthur, 'Gwenhwyvar and I have been called away. We must speak to Myrddin before he disappears again. But you will sit with me at table tonight,' Arthur promised, 'and I will tell you all about the battles you have missed.'

  The Pendragon and his lady moved away then, and Bedwyr made excuses, too, saying he must see to the night watch and supper for Llenlleawg. He hurried off to order the Cymbrogi, leaving Cai and me to help Bors with the welcome cup. 'Where is our Irishman?' wondered Bors.

  'At the shrine,' I answered, and went on to explain about the Fellowship of the Grail. 'We each take it in turn to guard the shrine,' I concluded. 'It was Llenlleawg's bad luck to draw the short straw – he has the watch tonight.'

  'Alone?' asked Bors, passing the cup to me.

  'Nay,' replied Cai, 'there are eight Cymbrogi with him – or soon will be – so he will not lack for company.'

  'When did you arrive?' I asked, taking a drink and passing the cup to Cai.

  'At midday, just,' Bors replied. His features grew keen. 'But tell me, have you seen this Grail?'

  'Man,' Cai hooted, 'for three whole days I have done little else save stand beside it from dawn to dusk.'

  'Where is this shrine?' Bors asked, excitement growing. 'Take me.'

  'Now?' said Cai. 'We have just this moment returned from there.'

  'Now,' Bors insisted. 'I want to see this marvel for myself. If it is as you say, even a moment is too long to wait.'

  'But the shrine is closed now,' I explained. 'Even if it were not, people in their hundreds have waited through the day to see it, and now must wait through the night as well. They stand ahead of you, brother. But never fear, I have the watch tomorrow, and I will take you and make certain you get to see it.'

  Bors yielded with good grace. 'Very well,' he said, 'if I must wait, then at least I tarry in good company. Bless me, but I am sorry I missed the fighting. Was it bad?'

  'Bad enough,' I replied. 'The Saecsens were worse, of course, but the Vandali were nearly as bad – fiercest when backed into a corner. Fortunately, Arthur saw to it that did not happen very often. Mostly, we chased them up and down the valleys. They had their women and children with them.'

  'God in Heaven!' He shook his head in disbelief.

  'Truly,' I declared. 'It seems they had been forced to flee their homeland in the southern seas somewhere, and they were looking for new lands for settlement.'

  'They chose the wrong place when they chose Britain,' Bors said.

  'They tried lerna first,' I said, 'and when we chased them away
from those green hills, they came here. It took the whole summer, but we vanquished them at last. Even so, they have not done too badly.'

  'No?' He regarded us dubiously.

  'For a truth,' Cai declared, nodding. 'In return for peace and sworn allegiance to the High King, Arthur gave them lands in the north.'

  'He never did!'

  'Did and done,' I told him, and related the story of how Arthur had undertaken single combat with the Black Boar, and received the deadly wound which ended in the miraculous healing. 'I believe it is for the best,' I concluded. The Grail is established, Britain is at peace, and the Kingdom of Summer is begun. Never has there been a better time to be alive.'

  Bors regarded me curiously, trying to determine if I was sincere or not. Unable to decide, he reached for the cup instead, took a long draught of the ale, whereupon one of the serving men appeared to say that Avallach called for his guests to take their places at the board. We hurried into the hall, where we were joined at table by Bedwyr and Cador, and some others eager to renew their acquaintance with Bors. The talk was fine and amiable, the ale flowed freely, and we spent the evening pledging and repledging our undying friendship to one another.

  'I wish Llenlleawg were here,' Bedwyr said at one point. 'This is just the tonic that would do him good.'

  'To Llenlleawg!' proclaimed Cai grandly. 'The finest warrior who ever drew sword or sat horse.'

  'I will drink to that,' declared Cador cheerfully, raising his cup high.

  'To the finest warrior that ever drew sword!' echoed Bedwyr, and we all acclaimed the sentiment with a noisy rattling of our cups.

  We were then overtaken by a sudden and irresistible urge to drink the health and virtue of every single member of the Dragon Flight, fine men each and every one. Night was far gone when I finally found my bed. The warriors' lodgings were full, so I took off my boots and curled up in the corner. It seemed that I had merely closed my eyes when I was roughly roused by someone shaking me by the shoulder.