“And I’m supposed to have the answer to all this?”
“I wish I knew. But I feel we’re coming close to something, almost like the last days referred to in the Bible. I can’t explain it; it’s like a vibration in the air, a warning that we ignore at our peril. Surely you’ve felt it too, Morgan?”
His question caught her by surprise. “I don’t know what it’s got to do with me,” she said slowly.
Merlin raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “I think you do. But if not yet, you will. It may be that these old tablets might also give us some clues. If you’ll leave them with me, I’ll see what I can find out – if anything. And I can have a look at your grimoire, your book of spells too, if you wish? I studied Latin many years ago; hopefully I’ll remember enough to make some sense of it all.”
“I don’t like you dabbling in this sort of thing, Merlin.” Elspeth looked troubled. “I believe that what will be, will be, and we shouldn’t interfere.”
“I’m just looking at it, Elspeth. I didn’t say I was going to put any of it into practice.”
“I don’t want to cause any trouble between you,” Morgan said anxiously.
“And you won’t,” Merlin reassured her. “For the moment, let’s just focus on your garden. I’ve seen Dru’s plans – in fact he shows them to everyone! But I can quite see now how very different your ideas are from his. Especially if you’ve actually seen what the garden is meant to look like.”
“It sounds weird, I know.”
“Not really. It could be an ancient memory from a past life, maybe? Or perhaps someone is trying to reach you from the past? Morgana maybe? What do you think?”
Morgan shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t really believe in all that sort of thing,” she admitted.
Merlin smiled. “Whether you believe it or not is immaterial, cos it seems to be happening anyway.”
“Let’s start with the first and most important thing,” Elspeth said comfortably, apparently reassured by Merlin’s promise. “You’ll have to show this to Dru. We’ll come with you, if you like.”
“I’ll also have to show it to the Belle Meadow people. I hope they won’t kick up a fuss.”
“I’m sure they won’t, once they’ve seen this. Don’t you see? This is proof of what was once there, the garden they have promised to recreate. And while Dru is probably wedded to his precious plans, I’m sure we can bring him around too. Because this garden must be relocated to its proper place, and it must look exactly like this when it’s done.”
What Merlin had said made perfect sense to Morgan. Unfortunately Dru didn’t see it that way. He welcomed her with enthusiasm, telling her how pleased he was to hear of her appointment and congratulating her on turning her life around and making such a success of it. Morgan felt uncomfortable as he also welcomed Merlin and Elspeth. “I expect you’ve all come to see my plans for the garden,” he said, focusing on Morgan as he added: “I’ve changed quite a few things since Belle Meadow have come on board with the funding, now that we’ve got so much extra space and the funding to fulfil our dream.”
Morgan’s heart lifted. She’d been fearing the worst; with a bit of luck Dru might not need much persuasion after all. “I’d love to see them,” she said, clutching her briefcase to her side as Dru led them over to the new coffee shop he’d established at the back of the nursery.
Once seated, Dru spread out his plans and they all bent over to study them. Morgan’s spirits sank. It wasn’t so different from the original after all. And it was still wrong. Dru launched into an enthusiastic explanation of how the garden would look and what he planned to plant there. Morgan hardly listened, too caught up in how she was going to change his design. It seemed an impossible task after all the thought and care he’d already put into his vision. She became aware that Merlin was looking at her, head cocked and eyebrows raised. She gave an unobtrusive shake of her head, and waited for Dru to draw breath before opening her mouth to speak. But Merlin beat her to it.
“We need to talk,” he said, as Dru was about to launch forth once more. “Morgan has something to show you.” Morgan was grateful to Merlin for taking the initiative, and also for coming with her, and bringing Elspeth too. He was making sure that Dru knew that she had their backing. It helped also that they were long-term residents of Glastonbury, and were highly regarded by the townsfolk. Their word would carry a lot of weight. Nevertheless, she dreaded the confrontation to come. Her hands were damp with sweat as she withdrew the sheet of parchment and spread it out over Dru’s plans.
“What’s this?” His tone was already hostile.
“Morgan’s found an ancient plan for the garden here at Bride’s Mound,” Merlin said quickly. “Take a look at it, Dru. We’ve all studied it, and it’s really something.”
Dru looked from Merlin to Morgan, then down at the drawing. “Is this what you were talking about before, when you said the garden should be round?” he asked sullenly. “Why didn’t you show this to me then?”
“I hadn’t seen it before. It was hidden in a book that’s been in my family for years, but I only found it recently.”
“But you described the garden to me.”
“Because, when she visited the site with you, she had a vision. She actually saw what the garden looked like, saw how it used to be,” Merlin said.
Morgan flashed him a grateful glance.
“Why didn’t you say something, tell me what you thought you’d seen?” Dru scowled at her.
“I don’t know… I didn’t understand what had happened, or why I was seeing things, and I was too embarrassed to say anything. I was scared you’d think I was some sort of flake.”
“Yeah. Maybe I would’ve at that.” It was a grudging admission.
Morgan drew a breath. “I think your plan is wonderful, Dru,” she said sincerely. “But can I ask you just to look at this drawing with an open mind? I know it’s completely different from your plan, but I do think it would be beautiful, and functional too, especially if we can recreate it where it used to be: in the field beside Bride’s Mound, and with the Holy Well at its center.”
“There’s no water there. It won’t work.”
“I think you’re wrong. There is water there.” Morgan pointed at the small circle in the center of the drawing. “It’s not where the marker stone is; that’s obviously been moved some time in the intervening centuries.”
“I know that; I told you so at the time. We’re pretty sure that the holy well is where I’ve marked it in my design.”
“It’s not there,” Morgan said flatly. “It’s in the center of the field. I’ve seen it. In fact I saw it when I was with you. Remember when you found me crouched down, and you asked what I was looking at?”
“You told me you were looking at a ladybird or some such thing. You didn’t mention anything about the well. Why not?” Dru’s tone could have stripped paint it was so acid.
Morgan shrugged. She’d already tried to explain. There was really nothing left to add.
“You know why,” Elspeth said softly, trying to bring some harmony back into their discussion. “Tell you what, Dru. Let’s all go out to the field now, and walk around it while Morgan explains just what she has in mind for the garden – and what the original creators, whoever they were, had in mind when they fashioned it so many hundreds of years ago.”
Dru hesitated.
“Come on, mate. You know it’s a good idea,” Merlin encouraged him. He took Elspeth’s arm and led her towards the door. Morgan and Dru exchanged glances. With an exasperated sigh, Dru set off after them. Allowing herself to feel just a tiny smidgeon of hope, Morgan followed close behind.
They all piled into Dru’s van and drove the short distance to the site. Looking around her, Morgan noticed that work had already started. The dilapidated buildings she remembered had been demolished and cleared away; foundations had been dug and new buildings were already starting to take shape. Bride’s Mound itself was still a tangle of grass, weeds and flowers, but the lan
d abutting it, that once had been used for farming, had been dug over and now lay fallow, albeit somewhat muddy after a recent downpour.
“Belle Meadow are planning to put their greengrocery over there, along with a vegetable garden so that customers can see how fresh all their produce is.” Drew pointed at the field. “It’ll be separate from my garden. As you know, I’m planning to devote that space to medieval plants and herbs for the Belle Meadow products, but we’ll also put in flowers and fruit trees. They’ve already seen my plans, and okayed them. I don’t know how happy they’ll be with you coming in and wanting to change everything.”
Morgan bit back an angry retort. Nevertheless, Dru needed reminding that she was no longer an overwrought teenager to be bullied into submission. “I can’t think why the company has employed me if everything is already set in concrete,” she said, her voice sharp as broken glass.
“And plans can be unmade,” Elspeth put in.
Morgan made an effort to sound reasonable. “Look: all those elements will still be in place: fruit trees, flowers, vegetables, medicinal plants and herbs, and so on. But now they’ll all be together in the round in a true medieval garden exactly where it was before. But if Belle Meadow want a separate garden, that could be sited where the priory used to stand and it could feature modern and international plants. Really, it’s a win-win situation for everyone. But let me show you my plan.” She led them across to the field, and drew out the parchment, holding it carefully in the stiff breeze that rattled its edges.
As she talked them through the design, describing the functions of the various wedges in the wheel, and naming some of the plants that would be found there, her eyes were drawn inexorably to the center of the field. “So they’ve obviously been digging and clearing the land around here,” she said, and began to walk towards the center, feeling her way towards the site of the well as she remembered it from so long ago. “Surely someone’s uncovered a source of water here?”
“No.” Dru sounded delighted to contradict her. Morgan tried to switch him off, thinking that his negativity would interfere with her insight into the well’s position. But the thought intruded: what if she was wrong; what if her visions had been because of hormonal changes during her pregnancy, some sort of hallucination that, in fact, meant nothing at all? She stole a quick glance at the plan in her hand, and took courage from it.
There was a muddy patch ahead, looking somewhat wetter than the surrounding terrain. She stepped towards it, and stopped dead. She closed her eyes, and the vision of the woman she’d seen before swam into her mind. She blinked, and looked downwards into a dark pool of water. The woman’s face was reflected there, just as it had been before.
“Where are you?” she asked softly. But the breeze ruffled the water, and the woman’s face disappeared.
“See? Did you see that?” Morgan swung around to confront Dru.
“What?”
“You didn’t see the pool? And the woman who looks a bit like me reflected in it?”
Dru shook his head. Morgan looked at Merlin in appeal. He too was shaking his head, as was Elspeth.
“Tell us what you saw, Morgan,” she suggested.
“What I just said. The pool opened up right here. There was a woman’s face reflected in it.” Morgana? But Morgan was afraid to mention Morgana’s name lest it give Dru further ammunition to undermine her. “She didn’t answer my question; she didn’t before either, when I asked where she was. So I can’t tell you anything about her, I’m afraid. But it does prove that there is an underground spring here. Perhaps it was capped in some way? We’ll just have to dig down and find it.”
“Maybe the woman you saw was the one who drew up this plan and created this garden in the first place?” Merlin suggested. “Whoever she is, her presence shows that this was once an ancient and maybe holy site.”
“It looks like I’m outvoted here.” Dru gave a short laugh that held no humor. “All right then, I’ll come with you to talk to the Belle Meadow people, cos the sooner we start on the new plans, the better. But I’ll give you fair warning, Morgan. If the excavators can’t find a source of water here, then we go back to my plan. Deal?”
Morgan hesitated. “Deal,” she agreed, knowing in her heart that Dru would lose.
*
As Morgan had foreseen, further excavation uncovered an underground spring exactly where she’d said it was. Everything came to a halt while negotiations were underway. Morgan felt bad about it, because she knew that every day’s delay was costing the company thousands of pounds. Not only that but, with spring now underway, they were wasting valuable planting time. Nevertheless, she stuck to her guns, supported by Merlin and his coterie of friends, as well as the council who had come on side. Fortunately she’d also found some supporters within the company who had seen merit in the ancient design and argued her case along the grounds that the garden would be authentically medieval as well as being functional and beautiful – and an unusual tourist attraction – arguments that, eventually, won the day.
Work on the medieval garden started apace, supervised by Morgan in between her visits to the council and her reports to the company’s headquarters. With delight, she realized that it was starting to look like a real garden at last as she chaperoned yet another party of dignitaries around the site and explained yet again her vision for how it would function. There was great pride in the thought. And in the little spare time she had, she studied the latest translations that Merlin was making of the grimoire.
“There are so many different spells and things written down here,” she said one night, flinging down the book in exasperation. “How are we meant to know which is for what?”
“Careful!” Merlin reached out to try and catch it.
“But the garden is my only concern right now; I need to focus on what’s relevant to it.” Ignoring Merlin’s concern, she jabbed a finger at an open page. “Have you come across anything of interest? I haven’t had any more visions, but I can’t shake the feeling that the crystal and wand are tied in to the garden somehow. I’m not too sure about those wooden Tarot things though,” she added.
Merlin was silent for a few moments. Then he picked up the book and started leafing through it. “I’ll keep that in mind, and I’ll keep on looking,” he said.
When not out at the site, or busy with the local dignitaries, Morgan spent long hours at the computer sourcing those plants that Dru’s nursery was unable to supply, but also surfing the net to find out what she could about the early days of Glastonbury and the priory that had once been on the site of Bride’s Mound. With some misgivings, she switched to Lance’s company for her searches, and then was glad she had. It was far more interactive and user-friendly than the program she’d been using, plus there was also an excellent virtual reality program that enabled her to download all her plans for the garden and then walk around it in order to fine-tune the positions of plants and the quantity that would be needed for each item. It also helped her to work out color schemes for the flowery bowers and a whole lot of other useful things besides.
Relaxing in front of the television one night, watching one of her favorite crime shows with Merlin and Elspeth, Morgan was horrified when the program was interrupted to show a newsflash: a riot that had erupted in the south of London some days ago was now spreading through suburbs in the east and west as well, fuelled by the news that the government had agreed to allow sharia law as an alternative plea in all the courts. A protest organized by the far right had brought opposing gangs out into the streets, along with the disaffected from all sides of the spectrum, plus those whose prime aim seemed to be to make trouble for England at any and every opportunity. Apparently a town hall had just been firebombed, incinerating councilors attending an evening meeting, along with council employees who were there to facilitate the meeting. The riot police had been busy for days; there’d already been numerous deaths from the police ranks. And now it looked like the situation had gone beyond anyone’s control.
The brutality of the opposing gangs who were now shooting at police, and chucking home-made bombs around, along with rocks and any other missiles they could lay their hands on, made Morgan feel sick.
“This is the sort of thing that makes me fear for our country – and for our world,” Merlin said softly. “This rioting, these attacks, are happening so frequently now that I can’t help wondering if this is the beginning of the last days?”
“Hush. I’m sure you’re making too much of this.” Elspeth laid a comforting hand on his arm.
Thinking back over the past years, Morgan thought that Merlin might well be right. England had been in a slow decline ever since the country had lost control of its borders and been swamped by refugees from Africa, the Middle East and Europe. There were so many people here now with no homes, no jobs, no common language or culture, it was hardly any wonder there was trouble in the streets. The fact that Britain had left the European Union had helped to isolate it, while the decisions by Scotland, Ireland and Wales at the last election to become independent had left England on its own and increasingly vulnerable. But the Eurozone itself was disintegrating under a conflict of different ideologies coupled with a number of countries who had defaulted on their debts and rendered the alliance financially unviable.
She stared unseeingly at the TV screen as her thoughts continued along their depressing trajectory. The only thing that had saved the west from complete annihilation so far was that the hatred between the Sunnis and the Shiites was more powerful than their hatred of the West and Western values – but there were signs that they were coming together under the umbrella of the Brotherhood of Islam to focus more on their common goal of establishing a worldwide caliphate than on what had kept them apart.
The Once and Future Camelot Page 21