The Mists of Avalon

by Marion Marion Bradley

  He dropped his arm from her neck as if he were stung. "Is it a sin, then, to love my kinsman and think, too, of his pleasure? It is true, I love you both-"

  "In Holy Writ it speaks of that city that was destroyed for such sins," said Gwenhwyfar.

  Arthur was as white as his shirt. "I love my kinsman Lancelet with all honor, Gwen; King David himself wrote of his cousin and kinsman Jonathan, Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of woman, and God smote him not. It is so with comrades in battle. Dare you to say that such a love is a sin, Gwenhwyfar? I will avow it before the throne of God-" He stopped, unable to force further sound through his dry throat.

  Gwenhwyfar heard her own voice cracking with hysteria.

  "Can you swear that when you brought him to our bed ... I saw it then, you touched him with more love than ever you have given the woman my father forced on you-when you led me into this sin, can you swear it was not your own sin, and all your fine talk no more than a cover for that very sin that brought down fire from Heaven on the city of Sodom?"

  He stared at her, still deathly white. "You are certainly mad, my lady. On that night you speak of-I was drunk, I know not what you may have thought you saw. It was Beltane, and the force of the Goddess was with us all. I think all your prayers and thoughts of sin have turned your mind, my Gwen."

  "No Christian man would say so!"

  "And that is one reason why I like not to call myself a Christian!" he shouted back at her, losing patience at last. "I am tired of all this talk of sin! If I had put you away from me-aye, and I was counselled to do so, and would not because I loved you too well-and taken another woman-"

  "No! Rather would you share me with Lancelet, and have him too-"

  "Say that again," he said very low, "and wife or no, love or no, I will kill you, my Gwenhwyfar!"

  But she was sobbing hysterically now and could not stop herself. "You say you wished for a son, and so you led me into such sin as God cannot pardon-if I have sinned, and God has punished me with barrenness, was it not you who led me into that sin? And even now, it is Lancelet's son is your heir. Can you dare say it is not Lancelet you love best, when you make his son your heir and not your own son, when you will not give me your son to foster for you-"

  "Let me call your women, Gwenhwyfar," he said, with a deep breath. "You are beside yourself. I swear to you, I have no son, or if I do, it is some chance-gotten child from my days in battle, and the woman knew me not, nor who I was. No woman anywhere near my own station has ever come to me and said she bore my child. Priests or no, sin or no, I cannot believe any woman would be ashamed to admit that she had borne the son of a childless High King. I have taken no unwilling woman, nor played at adultery with any man's wife. What is this mad talk of a son of mine you would foster as my heir? I tell you, I have none. I have often wondered if some sickness in boyhood, or that wound I took, might have gelded me ... I have no son."

  "No, but that is a lie!" Gwenhwyfar said angrily. "Morgaine bade me not speak of it, but long ago I went to her, I begged her for a charm to help my barrenness. I was in despair, I said I would give myself to another man, since it was likely you could not father a son. And at that time Morgaine swore to me that you could father a child, that she had seen a son of yours, fostered at the court of Lot of Lothian, but she made me promise not to speak of it-"

  "Fostered at the court of Lothian ..." said Arthur, and then he caught at his chest, as if in dreadful pain there. "Ah, merciful God!" he said in a whisper, "and I never knew ... ."

  Gwenhwyfar felt sudden terror striking through her. "No, no, Arthur, Morgaine is a liar! No doubt it was but her malice, it was she who contrived Lancelet's marriage to Elaine, because she was jealous ... no doubt she was lying to plague me ... ."

  Arthur said in a distant voice, "Morgaine is a priestess of Avalon. She does not lie. I think, Gwenhwyfar, that we must ask of this. Send for Morgaine-"

  "No, no," Gwenhwyfar begged. "I am sorry I spoke-I was beside myself and raving as you said-oh, my dear lord and husband, my king and my lord, I am sorry for every word I said! I beg you to forgive me-I beg you."

  He put his arms around her. "There is need for you to forgive me too, my dear lady. I see now I have done you great wrong. But when you have unloosed the winds, then must you abide by their blowing, whatever they may tear down. ..." He kissed her very gently on the forehead. "Send for Morgaine."

  "Oh, my lord, oh, Arthur, I beg you-I promised to her that I would never speak of it to you-"

  "Well, then, you have broken your promise," Arthur said. "I besought you not to speak, but you would have it so, and now what has been said cannot be unsaid." He stepped to the door of the chamber and called to his chamberlain, "Go to the lady Morgaine and command that she attend me and my queen as quickly as she may."

  When the man had gone, Arthur called Gwenhwyfar's servant, and Gwenhwyfar stood like a stone as the woman put on her holiday robe and braided her hair. She sipped at a cup of hot water and wine, but her throat was tight. She had spoken the unforgivable.

  But if it is true that this morning he has given me his child to bear ... and a strange pain struck inward through her body even into her womb. Could anything take root and grow in such bitterness?

  After a time Morgaine came into the room in a dark-red gown, her hair braided with crimson silk ribbons; she had dressed well for the festival and looked alive and glowing.

  And I am but a barren tree, Gwenhwyfar thought; Elaine has Lancelot's son; even Morgaine, who has no husband and no wish for one, has played the harlot and borne a son to somebody or other, and Arthur has fathered a son on some unknown woman, but I-I have none.

  Morgaine came and kissed her; Gwenhwyfar stood rigid within her arms. Then Morgaine turned to Arthur and said, "You commanded me to come, my brother?"

  Arthur said, "I am sorry to disturb you so early, sister. But, Gwenhwyfar," he said, "now must you repeat in my presence and Morgaine's what you have said. I will have no secret slanders repeated within my court."

  Morgaine looked at Gwenhwyfar and saw the marks of tears around her reddened eyes. "Dear brother," she said, "your queen is ill. Is she pregnant again? As to whatever she has said, well, it's a true saying, hard words break no bones."

  Arthur looked coldly at Gwenhwyfar, and Morgaine drew back; this was not the brother she knew well, this was the stern face of the High King as he sat in his hall to dispense justice.

  "Gwenhwyfar," he said, "not only as your husband, but as your king, I command you: Repeat before Morgaine's face what you have said behind her back, and what she told you, that I had a son in fosterage at the court of Lothian-"

  It is true, Gwenhwyfar thought in that split second. Never before, save when Viviane was murdered before her eyes, have I seen Morgaine's face other than calm, serene, the face of a priestess ... . It is true, and somehow it touches her deeply ... but why?

  "Morgaine," Arthur said. "Tell me-is this true? Have I a son?"

  What is it to Morgaine? Why should she wish it to be concealed, even from Arthur? She might wish her own harlotries to be hidden, but why should she conceal it from Arthur that he has a son? And then some inkling of the truth struck her, and she gasped aloud.

  Morgaine thought: A priestess of Avalon does not lie. But I am cast out of Avalon, and for this, and unless it is all to be for nothing, I must lie, and lie well and quickly ... .

  "Who was it?" demanded Gwenhwyfar angrily. "One of the whore priestesses of Avalon who lies with men in sin and lustfulness at their demon festivals?"

  "You know nothing of Avalon," said Morgaine, fighting to keep her voice steady. "Your words are like the wind, without meaning-"

  Arthur took her by the arm. He said, "Morgaine-my sister-" and she thought that in another moment she would weep ... as he had wept in her arms, that morning when first he knew how Viviane had trapped them both. ...

  Her mouth was dry and her eyes burned. She said, "I spoke-of your son-only to comfort Gwenhwyfar, Arthur. She feared you coul
d not give her a child-"

  "Would you had spoken so to comfort me," said Arthur, but his smile was only a grimace stretching his mouth. "All these years have I thought I could beget no son, even to save my kingdom-Morgaine, now you must tell me the truth."

  Morgaine drew a long breath. In the dead silence inside the room she could hear a dog barking somewhere beyond the windows, and some small insect chirping somewhere. At last she said, "In the name of the Goddess, Arthur, since you will have it said at last-I bore a son to the King Stag, ten moons after your kingmaking on Dragon Island. Morgause has him in her keeping, and she swore to me that you should never hear it from her lips. Now you have had it from mine. Let it end here."

  Arthur was white as death. He caught her into his arms, and she could feel how he was trembling. Tears were streaming down his face and he made no effort to check them or wipe them away. "Ah, Morgaine, Morgaine, my poor sister-I knew I had done you a great wrong, but I dreamed never that it was so great a wrong as this-"

  "You mean this is true?" Gwenhwyfar cried out. "That this unchaste harlot of a sister of yours, she is such a one as would practice her whore's arts on her own brother-!"

  Arthur swung round to her, his arm still around Morgaine. He said in a voice she had never heard before, "Be silent! Speak not one word against my sister-it was neither her doing nor her fault!" He drew a long, shaking breath, and Gwenhwyfar had time to hear the echo of her own ugly words. "My poor sister," Arthur said again. "And you have borne this burden alone, nor ever laid the fault rightly at my door-no, Gwenhwyfar," he said earnestly, turning to her again, "it is not what you think. It was at my kingmaking, and neither of us knew the other-it was dark, and we had not seen one another since I was so small that Morgaine could carry me about in her arms. She was to me no more than the priestess of the Mother, and I was no more to her than the Horned One, and when we knew one another, it was too late and the harm was done," he said, and it was as if he forced his voice past tears. And he held Morgaine close to him, crying out, "Morgaine, Morgaine, you should have told me!"

  "And again you think only of her!" Gwenhwyfar cried. "Not of your own greatest of all sins-she is your own sister, the child of your own mother's womb, and for such a thing as this God will punish you-"

  "He has punished me indeed," said Arthur, holding Morgaine close. "But the sin was unknowing, with no desire to do evil."

  "Maybe it is for this," Gwenhwyfar faltered, "that he has punished you with barrenness, and even now, if you repent and do penance-"

  Morgaine pulled herself gently free of Arthur. Gwenhwyfar watched, with a rage she could not speak, as Morgaine dried his tears with her own kerchief, almost an absentminded gesture, the gesture of a mother or older sister, with nothing in it of the harlotry she wished to see. She said, "Gwenhwyfar, you think too much of sin. We did no sin, Arthur and I. Sin is in the wish to do harm. We came together by the will of the Goddess, for the forces of life, and if a child came to birth, then it was made in love, whatever brought us together. Arthur cannot acknowledge a son begotten on his sister's body, it is true. But he is not the first king to have a bastard son whose very existence he cannot admit. The boy is healthy and well, and safe in Avalon. The Goddess-for that matter, your God-is not a vindictive demon, looking about to punish somebody for some imagined sin. What happened between Arthur and me, it should not have happened, neither he nor I would have sought it, but done is done-the Goddess would not punish you with childlessness for the sins of another. Can you blame your own childlessness on Arthur, Gwen?"

  Gwenhwyfar cried, "I do so! He has sinned, and God has punished him -for incest, for fathering a son on his own sister- for serving the Goddess, that fiend of foul abominations and lechery ... . Arthur," she cried, "tell me you will do penance, that you will go on this holy day and tell the bishop how you have sinned, and do such penance as he may lay on you, and then perhaps God will forgive you and he will cease to punish us both!"

  Arthur, troubled, looked from Morgaine to Gwenhwyfar. Morgaine said, "Penance? Sin? Do you truly believe that your God is an evil-minded old man, who snoops around to see who lies in bed with another's wife?"

  "I have confessed my sins," Gwenhwyfar cried, "I have done penance and been absolved, it is not for my sins that God punishes us I Say you will do so too, Arthur! When God gave you the victory at Mount Badon, you swore to put aside the old dragon banner, and rule as a Christian king, but you left this sin unconfessed. Now do penance for this too, and let God give you the victory of this day as he did at Mount Badon-and be freed of your sins, and give me a son who can rule after you at Camelot!"

  Arthur turned and leaned against the wall, covering his face with his hands. Morgaine would have moved toward him again, but Gwenhwyfar cried, "Keep away from him, you-! Would you tempt him into sin further than this? Have you not done enough, you and that foul demon you call your Goddess, you and that evil old witch whom Balin rightly killed for her heathen sorceries-?"

  Morgaine shut her eyes, and her face looked as if she were about to weep. Then she sighed and said, "I cannot listen to you curse at my religion, Gwenhwyfar. I cursed not yours, remember that. God is God, however called, and always good. I think it sin to believe God can be cruel or vindictive, and you would make him meaner than the worst of his priests. I beg you to consider well what you do before you put Arthur into the hands of his priests with this." She turned, her crimson draperies moving silently around her, and left the room.

  Arthur turned back to Gwenhwyfar as he heard Morgaine go. At last he said, more gently than he had ever spoken to her, even when they lay in each other's arms, "My dearest love-"

  "Can you call me so?" she said bitterly, and turned away. He followed her, laying a hand on her shoulder and turning her round to face him. "My dearest lady and queen-have I done you such a wrong?"

  "Even now," she said shaking, "even now all you can think of is the wrong you have done to Morgaine-"

  "Should I be happy at the thought of what I have brought on my own sister? I swear to you, I knew her not until the thing was done, and then, when I recognized her, it was she who comforted me, as if I had been the little boy who used to sit in her lap. ... I think if she had turned on me and accused me, as she had every right to do, I would have gone away and drowned myself in the Lake. But I never thought what might come to her ... I was so young, and there were all the Saxons and all the battles-" He spread his hands helplessly. "I tried to do as she bade me-put it behind us, remember that what we had done was done in ignorance. Oh, I suppose it was sin, but I did not choose to sin ... ."

  He looked so wretched that for a moment Gwenhwyfar was tempted to say what he wanted to hear, that indeed he had done no wrong; to take him in her arms and comfort him. But she did not move. Never, never had Arthur come to her for comfort, never had he acknowledged that he had done her any wrong; even now, all he could do was to insist that the sin which had kept them childless was no sin; his concern was only for the wrong he had done that damned sorceress of a sister of his! She said, crying again and furious because she knew he would think she wept from sorrow and not from rage, "You think it is only Morgaine you have wronged?"

  "I cannot see I have harmed any other," he said stubbornly. "Gwenhwyfar, it was before ever I set eyes on you!"

  "But you married me with this great sin unconfessed, and even now you cling to your sin when you might be shriven and do penance, and freed of your punishment-"

  He said wearily, "Gwenhwyfar mine, if your God is such a one as would punish a man for a sin he knew not he committed, would he then abate that punishment because I tell a priest, and mouth such prayers as he gives me, and I know not what all-eat bread and water for a space, or what have you-?"

  "If you truly repent-"

  "Oh, God, do you think I have not repented?" Arthur burst out. "I have repented it every time I looked on Morgaine, these twelve years past! Would it make my repentance stronger to avow it before one of these priests who wants nothing more than to have powe
r over a king?"

  "You think only of your pride," Gwenhwyfar said angrily, "and pride too is a sin. Would you but humble yourself, God would forgive you!"

  "If your God is such a God as that, I want not his forgiveness!" Arthur's fists were clenched. "I must rule this kingdom, my Gwen, and I cannot do that if I kneel before some priest and accept whatever he chooses to lay on me for penance! And there is Morgaine to think of-already they call her sorceress, harlot, witch! I have no right to confess to a sin which will call down scorn and public shame to my sister!"

  "Morgaine too has a soul to be saved," said Gwenhwyfar, "and if the people of this land see that their king can put aside his pride and take thought for his soul, repent humbly for his sins, then it will help them to save their souls too, and it will be to his credit even in Heaven."

  He said, sighing, "Why, you argue as well as any councillor, Gwenhwyfar. I am not a priest, and I am not concerned with the souls of my people-"

  "How dare you say so?" she cried. "As a king is above all his people and their lives are in his hand, so are their souls too! You should be foremost in piety as you are in bravery on the battlefield! How would you think of a king who sent his soldiers out to fight, and sat safe out of sight and watched them from afar?"

  "Not well," said Arthur, and Gwenhwyfar, knowing she had him now, said, "Then what would you think of a king who saw his people pursue ways of piety and virtue, and said he need have no thought to his own sins?

  Arthur sighed. "Why should you care so much, Gwenhwyfar?"

  "Because I cannot bear to think that you will suffer hellfire ... and because if you free yourself of your sin, God may cease to punish us with childlessness."

  She choked at last and began to cry again. He put his arms around her and stood with her head against his shoulder. He said gently, "Believe you this truly, my queen?"

  She remembered; once before, when he had first refused to bear the banner of the Virgin into the battle, he had spoken to her like this. And then she had triumphed and brought him to Christ, and God had given him the victory. But then she had not known he had this sin unconfessed on his soul. She nodded against him and heard him sigh.