The Mists of Avalon

by Marion Marion Bradley

  Lancelet hesitated, then nodded. He said, "Yes; let them think he dared offer you no insult. It is better that way. I came alone, knowing I could match Meleagrant; the others are downstairs. Let me look in the other chambers-a man of his kind would not dwell here without some woman or other." He left her for a moment, and she could barely endure to see him out of her sight. She edged away from the body of Meleagrant on the floor, looking down at the man as if he were a wolfs carcass killed by some shepherd, without even distate for the blood.

  After a moment Lancelet returned. "There is a room yonder which is clean, and chests there with some garments laid away-I think it was the old king's room. There is even a mirror." He led her down the hall. This room had been swept, and the bed straw on the big bed was fresh arid clean, and there were sheets and blankets, and fur comforters-not too clean, but not disgusting, either. There was a carved chest she recognized, and inside it she found three gowns, one of which she had seen Alinor wear, and the others made for someone taller. Handling them, through a mist of tears, she thought, These must have been my own mother's. I wonder that my father never gave them to Alienor. And then she thought, I never knew my father well. I have no idea what manner of man he was, he was only my father. And that seemed so sad to her that she wanted to weep again.

  "I will put this on," she said, and then she broke into a weak laugh. "If I can manage without a woman to dress me-"

  Lancelet touched her face gently. "I will dress you, my lady." He began to help her off with her gown. And then his face twisted, and he lifted her up in his arms, half-dressed as she was.

  "When I think of that-that animal, touching you-" he said, with his face muffled against her breast, "and I who love you barely dare to lay a hand on you-"

  And for all her faithfulness, she had only come to this; God had rewarded her for her virtue and self-restraint by betraying her into Meleagrant's hands for rape and brutality! And Lancelet, who had offered her love and tenderness, who had scrupulously stepped aside that he might not betray his kinsman-he had to witness it! She turned in his arms, embracing him.

  "Lancelet," she whispered, "my love, my dearest-take away from me the memory of what was done to me-let us not go from here yet for a little while-"

  His eyes overflowed with tears; he laid her down gently on the bed, caressing her with shaking hands.

  God did not reward me for virtue. What makes me think he could punish me? And then a thought which frightened her, perhaps there is no God at all, nor any of the Gods people believe in. Perhaps it is all a great lie of the priests, so that they may tell mankind what to do, what not to do, what to believe, give orders even to the King. She raised herself, pulling Lancelet down to her, her bruised mouth searching for his, her hands wandering all over the beloved body, this time without fear and without shame. She no longer cared, nor felt restraint. Arthur? Arthur had not protected her from ravishment. She had suffered what she had had to suffer, and now, at least, she would have this much. It had been by Arthur's doing that she had first lain with Lancelet, and now she would do what she would.

  THEY RODE out of Meleagrant's castle two hours later, side by side, their hands reaching out between their horses to touch as they rode, and Gwenhwyfar no longer cared; she looked straight at Lancelet, her head held high with joy and gladness. This was her true love, and never again would she trouble herself to hide it from any man.

  5

  On the shores of Avalon the priestesses wound slowly along the reedy shore, torches in hand.. .. I should have been among them, but there was some reason I could not go ... . Viviane would have been angry with me that I was not there, yet I seemed to stand on afar shore, unable to speak the word that would have brought me to them ... .

  Raven paced slowly, her paleface lined as I had never seen it, a long streak of white at the side of her temple... her hair was unbound; could it be that she was still maiden, untouched save by the God? Her white draperies moved in the same wind that made the torches flare. Where was Viviane, where was the Lady? The sacred boat stood at the shore of the eternal lands, but she would come no more to the place of the Goddess... and who was this in the veil and wreath of the Lady? I had never seen her before, save in dreams ... .

  Thick, colorless hair, the color of ripe wheat, was braided in a low coronal over her brow; but hanging at her waist where the sickle knife of a priestess should have hung . .. ah, Goddess! Blasphemy! For at the side of her pale gown a silver crucifix hung; I struggled against invisible bonds to rush forward and tear away the blasphemous thing, but Kevin stepped between us and held my hands in his own, which twisted and writhed like misshapen serpents ... and then he was writhing between my hands ... and the serpents were tearing at me with their teeth ...

  "Morgaine! What is it?" Elaine shook her bedfellow's shoulder. "What is it! You were crying out in your sleep-"

  "Kevin," she muttered, and sat up, her unbound hair, raven-dark, moving about her like dark water. "No, no, it wasn't you-but she had fair hair like yours, and a crucifix-"

  "You were dreaming, Morgaine," Elaine said. "Wake up!" Morgaine blinked and shuddered, then drew a long breath and looked up at Elaine with her customary composure. "I am sorry-an evil dream," she said, but her eyes still looked haunted. Elaine wondered what dreams pursued the King's sister; for sure they must be evil, for she had come here from that evil island of witches and sorceresses ....et somehow Morgaine had never seemed to her an evil woman. How could any woman be so good when she worshipped devils and refused Christ?

  She turned away from Morgaine and said, "We must get up, cousin. The King will return this day, so last night's messenger said."

  Morgaine nodded and got out of bed, pulling off her shift; Elaine modestly averted her eyes. Morgaine seemed to be without shame-had she never heard that all sin came into this world through the body of a woman? Now she stood shamelessly naked, rummaging in her chest for a holiday shift, and Elaine turned away and began to dress.

  "Make haste, Morgaine, we must go to the Queen-"

  Morgaine smiled. "Not too much haste, kinswoman, we must give Lancelet time to be well away. Gwenhwyfar would not thank you for making a scandal."

  "Morgaine, how can you say such a thing? After what has happened, it is no more than reason that Gwenhwyfar should be afraid to be alone at night and should wish her champion to sleep at her very door... and indeed, it was fortunate Lancelet came in time to save her from worse-"

  "Don't be more of a fool than you must, Elaine," said Morgaine with weary patience. "Do you believe that?"

  "You, of course, know better by your magic," flared Elaine, so loudly that the other women who slept in the room turned their heads to hear what the Queen's cousin and the King's sister were quarrelling about. Morgaine lowered her voice and said, "Believe me, I want no scandal, no more than you. Gwenhwyfar is my sister-in-law and Lancelet is my kinsman too. God knows, Arthur should not chide Gwenhwyfar for what befell with Meleagrant-poor wretch, it was none of her doing, and no doubt it must be given out that Lancelet came in time to rescue her. But I have no doubt Gwenhwyfar will tell Arthur, at least in secret, how Meleagrant used her -no, Elaine, I saw how she was when Lancelet brought her back from the island, and I heard what she said, her terror that that damned hellhound might have managed to get her with child!"

  Elaine's face went dead white. "But he is her brother," she whispered. "Is there any man alive would do such sin as that?"

  "Oh, Elaine, in God's name, what a ninny you are!" Morgaine said. "Is that what you think the worst of it?"

  "And you are saying-Lancelet has shared her bed while the King was away-"

  "I am not surprised, nor do I think it the first time," said Morgaine. "Have sense, Elaine-do you begrudge it? After what Meleagrant did to her, I would not be surprised if Gwenhwyfar would never again wish any man to touch her, and for her sake I am glad, if Lancelet can heal that hurt for her. And now, perhaps, Arthur will put her away, so that he may get him a son somewhere."

  El
aine said, staring at her, "Perhaps Gwenhwyfar will go into a convent-she told me once she was never happier than in her convent at Glastonbury. But would they have her, if she had been paramour to her husband's captain of horse? Oh, Morgaine, I am so ashamed of her!"

  "It has nothing to do with you," Morgaine said. "Why should you care?"

  Elaine said, surprising herself with her outburst, "Gwenhwyfar has a husband, she is wife to the High King, and her husband is the most honorable and kindly king ever to rule these lands! She has no need to look elsewhere for love! Yet how can Lancelet turn away to seek any other lady, if the Queen stretches out her hand?"

  "Well," said Morgaine, "perhaps now she and Lancelet will go forth from this court. Lancelet has lands in Less Britain, and they have loved one another long, though I think that till this mishap, they had lived as Christian man and woman." Silently she absolved herself for the lie; what Lancelet had told her in his agony was to be held forever in the depths of her heart.

  "But then would Arthur be the laughingstock of every Christian king in these islands," said Elaine shrewdly. "If his queen should flee out of his lands with his best friend and his captain of horse, they would call him cuckold or worse."

  "I do not think Arthur will care what they say of him," Morgaine began, but Elaine shook her head.

  "No, Morgaine, but he must care. The lesser kings must respect him so that they will rally to his standard when there is need. How can they do so when he allows his wife to live in open sin with Lancelet? Yes, I know you speak of these few days. But can we be certain it will stop at that? My father is Arthur's friend and vassal, but I think even he would mock at a king who could not rule his wife, and wonder how such a one could rule a kingdom."

  Morgaine shrugged and said, "What can we do, short of murdering the guilty pair?"

  "What talk!" said Elaine with a shudder. "No, but Lancelet must leave the court. You are his kinswoman, cannot you make him see that?"

  "Alas," said Morgaine, "I fear I have but little influence with my kinsman in that way." And inside it was as if some cold thing seized her with its teeth.

  "If Lancelet were married," said Elaine, and suddenly it seemed as if she wrenched at her own courage. "If he were married to me! Morgaine, you are wise in charms and spells, cannot you give me a charm which will turn Lancelet's eyes from Gwenhwyfar to me? I am a king's daughter too, and I am certainly as beautiful as Gwenhwyfar-and I at least have no husband!"

  Morgaine laughed bitterly. "My spells, Elaine, can be worse than useless-ask Gwenhwyfar one day how such a spell rebounded upon her! But Elaine," she said, suddenly serious, "would you truly travel that road?"

  "I think that if he married me," Elaine said, "he would come to see that I am no less worthy of love than Gwenhwyfar."

  Morgaine put her hand under the young woman's chin and turned up her face. "Listen, my child," she began, and Elaine felt that the dark eyes of the sorceress were searching into her very soul. "Elaine, this would not be easy. You have said you love him, but love when a maiden speaks so is no more than a fancy. Do you truly know what kind of a man he is? Is this a fancy which could endure for all the years of a marriage? If you wanted only to lie with him-that I could arrange easily enough. But when the glamour of the spell had worn off, he might well hate you because you had tricked him. And what then?"

  Elaine said, stammering, "Even that... even that I will risk. Morgaine, my father has offered me to other men, but he has promised me that he will never force my will. I tell you, if I cannot marry Lancelet, I shall go behind convent walls for all of my life, I swear it ... ." The girl's whole body trembled, but she did not weep. "But why should I turn to you, Morgaine? Like all of us, like Gwenhwyfar herself, you would have Lancelet, whether as husband or paramour, and the King's sister may choose for herself ... ."

  Then, for a moment, Elaine thought her eyes tricked her, for in the cold eyes of the sorceress it seemed that tears gathered. Something in her voice made Elaine's eyes sting too. "Ah, no, child, Lancelet would not have me, even if Arthur bade him. Believe me, Elaine, you would have small happiness with Lancelet."

  Elaine said, "I do not think women have ever much happiness in marriage-only young girls think so, and I am not so young. But a woman must marry some time or other, and I would rather have Lancelet." Then she burst out, "I do not think you can do anything of the sort! Why do you mock me? Are your charms and spells all moonlight rubbish, then?"

  She had expected Morgaine to flare up at her, to defend her own craft, but Morgaine sighed and shook her head and said, "I put not much faith in love charms and spells, I told you that when first we spoke. They are for concentrating the will of the ignorant. The craft of Avalon is a very different thing, and not lightly to be invoked because a maiden would rather lie with one man than another."

  "Oh, it is ever so with the craft of the wise," Elaine burst out scornfully. "I could do thus or thus, but I will not because it would not be right to meddle in the work of the Gods, or the stars are not right, or what have you ... ."

  Morgaine sighed, a heavy sound. "Kinswoman, I can give you Lancelet for husband, if that is truly what you desire. I do not think it will make you happy, but you are so far wise, you have said that you expect not happiness in marriage ... believe me, Elaine, I want nothing more than to see Lancelet well wedded and away from this court and from the Queen. Arthur is my brother, and I would not see shame brought upon him, as soon or late it must be. But you are to remember that you asked me for this. See that you do not whimper when it turns to bitterness."

  "I swear I will abide whatever comes, if I can have him for husband," Elaine said. "But why would you do this, Morgaine? Is it simply out of spite for Gwenhwyfar?"

  "Believe that if you will, or believe I love Arthur too well to see scandal destroy what he has wrought here," Morgaine said steadily, "and bear in mind, Elaine, charms seldom work as you expect they will ... ." When the Gods had set their will, what did it matter what any mortal did, even with charms and spells? Viviane had set Arthur on the throne ... yet the Goddess had done her own will and not Viviane's, for she had denied Arthur any son by his queen. And when she, Morgaine, had sought to remedy what the Goddess had left undone, the rebound of that charm had thrown Gwenhwyfar and Lancelet together into this scandalous love. Well, that at least she could remedy, by making it sure that Lancelet made an honorable marriage. And Gwenhwyfar too was trapped; she would be glad, perhaps, of something to break this deadlock.

  Her mouth twitched a little in something that was not quite a smile. "Beware, Elaine, there is a wise saying: Have a care what you pray for, it might be given you. I can give you Lancelet for husband, but I will ask a gift in return."

  "What can I give you that you would value, Morgaine? You care not for jewels, that I have seen. , . ."

  "I want neither jewels nor riches," Morgaine said, "only this. You will bear Lancelet children, for I have seen his son . .." and she stopped, feeling her skin prickle all the way up her spine, as when the Sight came upon her. Elaine's blue eyes were wide with wonder. She could almost hear Elaine's thought, So it is true then, and I will have Lancelet for husband and give him children ... .

  Yes, it is true, though I did not know it until I spoke ... if I work within the Sight, then I am not meddling with what should be left to the Goddess, and so the way will be made clear for me.

  "I will say nothing of your son," Morgaine said steadily. "He must do his own fate ... ." She shook her head to clear it of the strange darkness of the Sight. "I ask only that you give me your first daughter to be schooled at Avalon."

  Elaine's eyes were wide. "In sorcery?"

  "Lancelet's own mother was High Priestess of Avalon," Morgaine said. "I will bear no daughter for the Goddess. If through my doing you give Lancelet the son which every man craves, you must swear to me-swear by your own God-that you will send me your daughter for fostering."

  The room seemed full of a ringing silence. At last Elaine said, "If all this comes to pass, and
if I have Lancelet's son, then I swear you shall have his daughter for Avalon. I swear it by the name of Christ," she said, and made the sign of the cross.

  Morgaine nodded. "And in turn I swear," she said, "that she shall be as the daughter I shall never bear to the Goddess, and that she shall avenge a great wrong ... ."

  Elaine blinked. "A great wrong-Morgaine, what are you speaking of?"

  Morgaine swayed a little; the ringing silence in the room was broken. She was aware of the sound of rain outside the windows, and of a chill in the chamber. She frowned and said, "I do not know-my mind wandered. Elaine, this thing cannot be done here. You must beg leave to go and see your father, and you must make certain that I am invited to go and bear you company. I will see to it that Lancelet is there." She drew a long breath, and turned to take up her gown. "And as for Lancelet, we must by now have given him time to be gone from the Queen's chamber. Come, Gwenhwyfar will be awaiting us."

  And indeed when Elaine and Morgaine reached the Queen, there was no sign of the presence there of Lancelet, or any other man. But once, when Elaine was for a moment beyond earshot, Gwenhwyfar met Morgaine's eyes, and Morgaine thought she had never seen such awful bitterness.

  "You despise me, do you not, Morgaine?"

  For once, Morgaine thought, Gwenhwyfar has voiced the question that has been in her thoughts all these weeks. She felt like hurling back a sharp answer -If I do so, is it not because you have first despised me? But she said as gently as she could, "I am not your confessor, Gwenhwyfar, and you, not I, are the one who professes belief in a God who will damn you because you share your bed with a man who is not your husband. My Goddess is gentler with women."

  "He should have been," Gwenhwyfar burst out, then stopped herself and said, "Arthur is your brother, in your eyes he can do no wrong-"