Children of Avalon

by Meredith Bond

  I shook my head. “No. I don’t feel nearly ready enough to face Lady Nimuë.”

  “Why not?” She moved closer.

  I gave a shrug. “Lady Nimuë is incredibly powerful. She has so many tricks at her fingertips. It’s hard to know what she’ll throw at us next, and yet we have to be ready for anything.” It was disheartening when I really thought about it.

  But Lady Morwen just nodded, understanding. “Tell me some of the things she’s thrown at you and maybe I can help you prepare better for the next time you meet her.” She settled herself comfortably on the grass and patted the ground for me to join her.

  As I did so, I couldn’t help but admire the way her hair shone in the brilliant sunshine. It was a deep, beautiful mahogany, and flowed over her shoulders and down her back as if it had a life of its own. Her eyes looked at me with interest and intelligence, truly caring about whatever it was I could tell her. It was a pleasure to sit down and talk with someone who was willing and able to help me.

  I told her all about the various times we had fought with Nimuë and all the nasty things she had thrown at us—careful, however, to leave out my last encounter with her at the monastery. That one was too embarrassing.

  When I finished, she cocked her head and said, “Then I can’t imagine why you are training here in the open by the lake.”

  “What do you mean? Where else should I train?”

  “In the forest, of course. There you’ll have lots of targets all around you, just as Lady Nimuë has thrown at you again and again. She never comes at you one–on–one does she?”

  “No,” I agreed, thinking about it.

  “She always provides too many targets so you become overwhelmed and don’t know where to attack first. You need to practice in the woods, where you’re surrounded.”

  That made a lot of sense.

  She stood up. “Come on. I’ll show you and see what I can do to help.”

  I jumped to my feet, my heart leaping with excitement as I followed her up the path and toward the center of the village. I hadn’t actually seen many of the buildings there. I’d kept myself mainly to the lake. I knew the dormitory where Sir Dagonet, I, and the other men lived, and I knew the dining hall where everyone gathered for communal meals, but beyond that I really didn’t know what any of the other buildings were. So as we walked around the green, I looked around with interest.

  “Have you not been given a tour of our little community?” Lady Morwen asked.

  I just shook my head.

  “Well, that building there is our temple.” She pointed across the green to a large, open structure, nothing more than a raised white marble floor and an ornate roof held up by four marble columns. In the center of the room, I could see a water fountain burbling into a circular pool, but instead of there being water in the pool, it was filled with fire. Somehow, four trees grew out of the fire, their leaves rustling in an unseen wind.

  She paused to allow me a good look at the fountain. “It represents the four elements. The fifth, spirit, you feel when you enter the temple.”

  I nodded, following her along the path. We paused outside of another white marble building. This one was built in the same manner as the first, only there were filmy white curtains strung between the columns to allow for some privacy. Inside there were rows of tables, and against the back, shelves of books covered the entire wall.

  There were a few people seated at the tables, books spread out before them. One of them looked up as we approached, and I was surprised to see Scai. I hadn’t known where she was spending her time while I’d been training. I’d assumed she was working at her magic and training as hard as me, but here she was sitting looking at a book!

  “Dylan!” A smile spread across her face as she got up and came to greet us.

  “I thought you were working, preparing for the next time we met Lady Nimuë.” I tried to keep my voice moderate, so as to not upset her as I’d done with Bridget the day before.

  “I am. I’m reading histories of Lady Nimuë and her exploits, trying to learn all of her powers so we won’t be surprised the next time she attacks us. As soon as I’m done, I’ll search out ways of combating all the magic she could throw at us.”

  “You can read?” I couldn’t keep the surprise from my voice. That a woman should be able to read was almost unheard of. Goodness, most men couldn’t read.

  Scai laughed. “Yes. That’s what I get for having been raised by a priest. He taught me so that I could read his sermons. I can cipher, too—I learned that so I could keep our accounts. Father Llewellyn hates numbers!”

  I agreed wholeheartedly with Scai’s guardian. My foster mother had forced me to spend at least half an hour a day practicing my reading and math skills, although I never saw the point of it. What does a knight and a nobleman need with such useless knowledge? I would have others to do tedious things like keep accounts and write letters for me when I took over my father’s position as earl.

  “Well, your studying does sound helpful,” I answered, trying not to sound too dubious. I preferred action to studying, but I supposed that what Scai was doing could possibly help.

  “Where are you off to?” she asked.

  “Lady Morwen is going to show me a place in the forest where I can train and prepare for multiple attacks like the kind Lady Nimuë has been throwing at us.”

  “That sounds great. I would love to take a walk. Would you mind if I came with you?” She began to walk down the few steps from the library floor.

  “I’m so sorry,” Morwen said, “but Dylan and I are going to be training, not just going for a walk. And I’m sure you’ve got quite a bit more reading to do anyway.” Morwen nodded behind Scai to where a woman was gently placing two more very large volumes on the desk where Scai had been sitting.

  “Oh. Yes.” I felt a twinge at the sadness emanating from her. She clearly wanted a break from her reading, but it was just as obvious that Lady Morwen didn’t want her to come along with us.

  “We’ll see you later. At lunch,” I offered.

  “Yes, of course.” Scai nodded, but her eyes narrowed a bit as Lady Morwen wove an arm through mine and pressed herself closer to me.

  “Good–bye,” Morwen said cheerfully, as she led me onward toward the woods at the far end of the green.

  I had to admit I didn’t mind her closeness at all. She smelled of flowers. Not of sunshine and open meadows like Scai, but like she had deliberately put on the scent of flowers.

  “Poor child,” Morwen said. “Even she is feeling the tediousness of her task.”

  I laughed in sympathy and turned around a little so that I could look back. Scai still stood on the library step watching us. I could feel the hurt which showed too plainly on her face. I would make it up to her later. And after all, we were supposed to be just friends now.

  ~~~~~

  So many things were roiling around in my head, I felt like it was going to explode. Why had I been so cruel to poor Bridget yesterday? It truly was amazing what she could do now. I should be proud of her doing so well on her first attempt at making a sword. But no, I’d had to snap at her and belittle her efforts.

  Scai, too, I’d hurt by going off with Morwen that morning. But I had been going to train and Scai had needed to do her work. Although, now that I thought about it, she probably could have used the same practice I’d had. In fact, she needed it even more; she would have to defend herself against multiple attacks just as I would, and she wasn’t a trained fighter.

  And then there was Morwen herself. She was incredibly beautiful and thrilling to be around. A true priestess of Avalon. She was powerful and funny and, most amazing of all, she wanted to be with me. She deliberately sought me out. I cared for Scai, but Morwen was... exciting. There was a twinge of guilt at that thought, but I shrugged it off with my tunic and then my boots.

  Diving into warm water wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped for, but I took long vigorous strokes, cutting through the water to make up for it. Soon enough my m
ind began to empty and I began to relax, letting the water do its magic, filling me with power and soothing me at the same time. With each lap across the lake I felt lighter, stronger, and more myself.

  “This is good, Dylan. You need to be at your best for what I am going to ask you do to,” a voice said, coming from near the waterfall. It cut through the water, like no other sound could, stopping me mid–stroke.

  “Who’s there?” I called out.

  “It is just I, Merlin. Come closer.”

  I swam over to the waterfall and noticed the chalice sitting in a crevice in the wall where we had left it the previous day. Lady Morgan had put a protective barrier around it so that no one could touch it except for Bridget, Scai, and me.

  I pulled myself out of the water and peered into the stone cup. Merlin’s calm, grizzled face stared back at me.

  “My dear boy,” the old man said, with a hint of affection that belied his serious expression. “How long it is that I’ve waited for you, and yet it seems like only yesterday that Nimuë struggled through the birth of our son, your ancestor.”

  I tried to mask the shock at the revelation that Nimuë had been the mother of my own ancestor. Vaguely in the back of my mind, I remembered my father mentioning that to me once, but it was much more often said that I was a descendent of Merlin’s. My family was much more proud of that connection than to the Lady of the Lake.

  Merlin gave me a sad little smile and sighed heavily. “Ah well, now is not the time for such reminiscences. Now is the time for work, and I am sorry to say, for you this will be very hard work indeed. You, my very own flesh and blood, have the most difficult of tasks to learn, and yet with this strength, if you are able to master it, you will indeed be a powerful rival and a strong ally. Now let us see what you are made of.”

  A priestess appeared from behind me. I wondered for a moment why Morwen hadn’t come to help me with my lesson. This woman unnerved me. She did nothing but stare at me, walking in a slow circle around me as if taking my measure. I turned with her, never allowing her to see my back, never taking my eyes from her.

  “You will feel pain. Pain and hurt. Humiliation,” she said in a gentle, lilting, singsong voice.

  I frowned. Why would she say... but then my foster brother was before me just as he had been the week before I had left to find the chalice.

  “You think so you’re so special, don’t you, Dylan?” Patric sneered. “Just because you are the direct descendent of the great Merlin. Well, let me tell you, you’re not special. You’re nothing but a weak, emotional, insufferable twerp.” My foster brother paused. “Oh, take that hurt expression off your face and be a man for once. And you want to be a knight? Hah! You’ll never be good enough. You’re too much of a little girl.”

  “You’ve never given me a chance,” I shouted back, just as I had that day.

  “Oh no? Well, here’s your chance.” Patric punched me in the gut just below my rib cage.

  I doubled over in pain, the wind knocked out of me. But my brother didn’t let up; he kicked my bottom sending me sprawling in the dirt.

  Anger welled up in me, but I knew that if I hurt Patric my foster father would take a whip to me. It only took one time to teach me that I could do nothing but take the beatings my foster brother doled out. It was no wonder Patric thought me weak. But I wasn’t; I was smart.

  Patric hauled me up to my knees by my tunic. I just closed my eyes and prepared myself for the beating, suppressing all of my emotions, pushing my anger back behind my wall.

  “No!” Merlin’s voice cut through my mind. “Don’t push it inside. Let it go, Dylan. Let go of your anger. It is the only way you will be able to fight back.”

  I opened my eyes to see the priestess standing over me in triumph.

  It was a memory. It was a painful, shameful memory!

  “Fight back, Dylan,” Merlin urged me. “Let go of your emotions, tear down your wall, and attack her the way she attacked you.”

  I couldn’t do it. I got to my feet, anger still throbbing through my veins. I could hear it pumping in my ears, feel it pounding in my chest. But to use my anger, my emotions, to attack another? To bring pain to this woman? I couldn’t do it.

  I shook my head. “I’ve only brought good, healing emotions to people, never bad. I don’t... I couldn’t...”

  “Dylan, this is war. You are not here to make people happy. You are here to cause them pain, just as you do with your sword, so should you with emotions. It is your greatest weapon.” Merlin’s voice echoed through my mind.

  My greatest weapon.

  I concentrated on the still smug smile that graced the face of the priestess before me. I couldn’t tear down my wall; it would be too terrifying. But I could use the anger that I still felt. I could use that...

  “You will feel great sadness,” I said, concentrating my anger, narrowing it, and then shoving it over to the priestess. I stared at her the way she had stared at me.

  She tried to pull her eyes away as the smile slipped from her lips. I held on tight to her gaze, however, not letting her go.

  Her eyes welled up with tears. She blinked them away, lifting her chin, refusing to give in to my power.

  Sadness, I thought. A picture flashed into my mind—tears came to my own eyes as I saw my mother’s lifeless body before me.

  “No!”

  The word burst from my mouth before I could stop it. Quickly, I switched my concentration to building my dam stronger and pressing my emotions behind it. They went unwillingly. Tears burned my eyes and slipped down my cheeks.

  “You are moving in the wrong direction, lad.” Merlin’s voice cut through my internal turmoil. “You need to break down that wall in order to bring forth the emotions of others.”

  I shook my head. I couldn’t do it. It didn’t make sense. “But if I do that, then I’ll feel the emotions I bring forth,” I argued.

  “Yes. To bring forth truly strong emotions, you must open yourself up to them. Your wall holds back your emotions, but it also restrains your emotional strength. Only when you can let it go, when you can break down your wall and allow the emotions of others to pass through you, will you be able to wield your greatest power.”

  I allowed myself to collapse, sitting onto the grass as the priestess stepped away from me. She swiped at a tear that had escaped one of her eyes before giving me a small bow and turning to walk back to the village.

  I was completely drained. I didn’t even have the energy to keep my head up but let it drop into my hands. My heart still pounded and tears burned behind my closed eyes.

  “Your greatest strength, my child, is your greatest weakness,” Merlin said. “When you can overcome that, you will truly be a force to be reckoned with. A force that Nimuë herself will not be able to withstand.”

  ~~~~~

  “My Lady Nimuë, are you there?” A voice whispered from behind Father du Lac.

  “Very good, Father. I am happy to hear that you have had such success rounding up these witches. We will rid our land of this scourge after all,” Father du Lac said, holding open the door for the priest who had come to give him his report and ignoring the voice coming from her silver bowl.

  The man glanced behind him. “Did you hear something?”

  Father du Lac deliberately looked toward the window, which looked out over the busy courtyard and then back. “No.”

  The priest shook his head. “Must have just been a noise from below.”

  “Yes.” Du Lac smiled kindly at the man while closing the door. “Go in peace, Father.”

  “And you,” the man’s voice came from behind the already closed door.

  Lady Nimuë took long strides toward the silver bowl sitting on the far table, even as her form was changing. “I am here. What do you want?” she asked, her voice terse with annoyance.

  “I’m sorry, my lady, I just wanted to report my progress to you.” Morwen’s image shimmered just below the surface of the water.

  “You should not call out like t
hat. I had someone here.”

  “I’m sorry, my lady. I didn’t know how else to reach you.” Morwen hung her head.

  “You don’t. You wait for me to contact you.”

  “Yes, my lady. I apologize.”

  Nimuë sighed. “Very well. What is it you wish to tell me?”

  “It is just that my relationship with Dylan is progressing well. I have him thoroughly captivated.”

  “This is not very surprising. He is a man, after all.”

  “Yes, my lady. And there seems to be an added bonus to this that we hadn’t anticipated,” Morwen continued.

  “Oh?”

  “I believe that he and Scai have some sort of relationship—beyond that of friends.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Nearly so. But I’ve managed to drive a wedge in between them, spur some jealousy.”

  Nimuë tapped her finger to her chin thinking about this. “This is good. Causing dissent between the Children can only help.”

  “That’s what I thought, too, my lady.”

  “Can you do the same with the two sisters? Drive them apart?”

  “I can try.”

  “Do so. Together, they are strong; apart, they don’t stand a chance.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Morwen smiled, clearly already thinking of ways to stir up trouble.

  “And don’t forget about the chalice. I will have it,” Nimuë reminded her.

  Morwen became serious again. “Yes, my lady. I will be on the lookout for an opportunity to convince Dylan to give it to me.”

  “Good. Well done, child. You will be rewarded for your loyalty.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Morwen bowed and then shimmered out of sight.

  It was actually quite amazing that this girl had done as she’d promised. Nimuë hadn’t been certain that she could be trusted; that she wasn’t working for Morgan. But so far, everything she’d done was to help Nimuë’s cause without one word to try and convince her to change her mind about what she was doing. Yes, this girl was a very useful ally.