“So, will you show us around your garden, Morgan?” Arthur stepped closer to the brambles at the entrance. “It looks as if it’s coming along very well. Congratulations.”
“You’re creating a thing of beauty here, Morgan,” Lance said softly as he followed Arthur through the entrance.
Needing to buy time to organize her thoughts, and to get over the shock of seeing Lance again, Morgan walked them all around the garden, explaining the purpose of the various segments as she went, and detailing the properties of some of the plants already in place.
“This is wonderful. Where did you get the idea for it?” Lance was full of admiration.
“From a plan I found in an old book I brought from home.” Morgan produced a photocopy and unfolded it so they could see all the details. It seemed the perfect opportunity to tell them the real purpose of the garden, but her throat was suddenly too dry to speak.
“Courage,” Merlin murmured. He was being followed by the two boys. Ralph was peppering him with questions about magic spells, obviously not believing him when he tried to tell them that he wasn’t a real wizard, while Will toddled solemnly behind them.
“You should ask Morgan about magic,” Merlin said unexpectedly. “She knows a lot about it.”
Morgan felt her face flame red. Now that it was time, she felt utterly incapable of explaining the urgency of her appeal, and why she’d brought them here. “I have something to show you,” she said, and led them towards the pool in the center. “Please let Marie be here,” she prayed fervently. “Or if not Marie, let them at least see something!”
Even one of the horrifying visions would be better than nothing at all, she thought. She beckoned them to join her around the pool and they admired the fountain splashing into the stone basin and overflowing into the slowly bubbling water below. There was nothing else to see. They stood in silence for some moments, until Morgan’s nerve snapped.
“Marie! Please come and talk to me,” she begged silently.
But the water stayed dark.
“This is the sacred pool of St. Bride,” Morgan said at last, casting around desperately for something else to say about it.
“People come here to say prayers and petitions, and leave offerings.” Elspeth put out a hand to indicate several bright ribbons tied to an apple tree nearby.
Arthur nodded, his face inscrutable.
“You’d better tell him what you’ve seen,” Merlin prompted.
Morgan took a deep breath. “I … I’ve seen three people reflected in the pool here. And I’ve talked to them. One …” She swallowed hard. “One was Morgana, also known as Morgan le Fay. King Arthur’s sister. The other was Morgana’s daughter, Marie, and her daughter Aline.”
“Please tell me you’re joking!” Arthur spluttered. “Honestly, you sound as obsessed as our mother!”
“Let her finish explaining.” Lance’s glance was encouraging. “What else have you seen in the pool, Morgan?”
“Visions.” Morgan was near tears. This was all going so horribly wrong. “Visions of London being consumed by fire. And the dreadful, gray aftermath of what’s happened in Israel – or maybe that was also London.”
“Perhaps it was a warning? Perhaps you were seeing what nearly happened a few weeks ago?” Lance said. “You heard about that plane …?”
“Yes,” Morgan interrupted. “But this was different, and the fire was incandescent and all-consuming. There was nothing left at the end of it, only …” She drew a shaky breath. “Only screaming and … and shadows of the people who were there before. So I think this may be the future I’m seeing but I … I don’t know what to do about it.” She cast an anxious glance around, relieved to see that the little boys, encouraged by Merlin, had run off to explore the garden. She faced Arthur again. “Marie gave me a message from the Lady Viviane …”
“Viviane of Avalon,” Merlin put in.
“Viviane, the High Priestess of Avalon?” Arthur’s face was a study in disbelief. “Both of us were brought up with the legend; our mother was rapt in it. But it’s a legend, for God’s sake. It’s not real!”
“It is real,” Morgan said. “Just not in our world, that’s all. It’s in an Otherworld.”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake,” Arthur said impatiently. “I can’t believe you’ve dragged me all this way to listen to this guff when I should be back in London discussing strategy in the aftermath of what’s happened to Israel. And what’s going on in Europe. Really, Morgan; I thought you were in trouble. I thought it was important.”
“It is important,” Morgan cried desperately. “You might not be able to see what I’ve seen, but it was real enough, I promise you. And that’s not all. I was told to reconcile with you, and bring you here. And no.” She held up her hands, palms outward. “I don’t know why you need to be here. But I was told you must come. I was also told that I need to fashion a secret way through my garden here, the secret way that can lead us to an Otherworld.”
“And have you done so?” Arthur’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
It was clear that he’d given up on her, Morgan thought despairingly. Nevertheless she had nothing left to lose now, so she might as well tell him everything. She stole a glance at Lance. He was looking thoughtful. She concentrated for a few moments to hear what he was thinking, and her heart gave a painful leap. He was hardly listening to her, he was so full of regret – over his marriage, and over the wasted years without her. But she could not deal with regrets right now. It was more important to try to convince Arthur that, somehow, he had a role to play in all of this.
“Can you show us this so-called secret path?” Arthur prompted.
“No, I haven’t fashioned it yet. It can only be done at the full moon. I was going to do it tonight. With you, if you’ll come with me?” She read the scorn on his face.
“And you think we’ll be able to travel to some Otherworld through it? Like Camelot?” Arthur shook his head. “I must say, Morgan, you have far more imagination than I remember. But you’ve told us an entertaining story, I’ll give you that.” He rubbed his hands. “We’ve seen the garden now, and I need to get back. What say we all go into the village for some afternoon tea before we leave? I’m sure there are some lovely cafes in Glastonbury?” He looked enquiringly at Elspeth, who shook her head.
“I’ve prepared tea for all of us at our home, and I hope you’ll join us,” she said formally. “You can follow our car back to the village, if you will?”
“Thank you,” Lance said quickly. “That would be splendid.”
He spoke with a slight drawl, Morgan realized, as she followed Merlin and Elspeth towards her car. In spite of that slight difference, his presence was achingly familiar. She felt like a teenager once more, wanting only to feel his arms around her, and to savor his kisses.
“I’m thinking he was the father of the baby you lost,” Merlin commented from the back seat, as Morgan set the car in motion. “He still loves you, you know,” he added unexpectedly.
“I know,” Morgan mumbled.
“Of course. You heard his thoughts. What are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing. He’s already married, remember?”
Merlin grunted. “More important: what are you going to do about your brother? He doesn’t believe a word you’ve said.”
“I know that too. But there’s nothing I can do to change his mind if he can’t see what I’ve seen,” Morgan said defensively. “I can’t make him believe me.”
“It would help if we knew why he was brought here,” Merlin said.
“Well, we don’t,” Morgan snapped. “Sorry,” she added. “I had such high hopes, but it’s been an awful day and I presume it’s only going to get worse.”
“Not necessarily,” Elspeth comforted her. She leaned over and patted Morgan’s knee. “Maybe something will happen to turn it all around. Don’t give up just yet.”
“If all else fails, I’ll show the boys some more magic tricks,” Merlin promised, and Morgan flashed him
a grateful smile through the rear view mirror.
“I have an idea. Why not show Arthur the bag of magical objects, and maybe you can also do a reading for him with those old wooden tiles, Merlin?” Elspeth suggested.
Merlin nodded. “I’ll do anything that you think might help.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The pleasant smell of baking was in the air as they entered the house. Elspeth had been busy, and Morgan was grateful as she set out trays of sandwiches, cakes and biscuits on the huge round table in the sun room, with its windows looking out over the Tor. The boys needed no second invitation to start tucking in, but the adults sat around in stony silence while Morgan helped Elspeth make the tea and coffee and carry the trays into the sun room. The silence was broken only by the chink of spoons on china and a steady munching from the boys.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t show you what I’ve been seeing,” Morgan said at last, desperate to break the ice. “It seemed important, but I’m still not sure why. But I wish you’d stay on for a few days. There’s plenty to see in Glastonbury, and I’d like to show you around.”
“We can’t. I’m needed in London.”
Elaine glanced at her husband. “Could we at least stay here tonight?” Arthur gave a non-committal grunt.
“I’d like to stay. We have a lot of catching up to do, Morgan,” said Lance.
Afraid to look at him lest he read the longing on her face, Morgan jumped up quickly and grabbed hold of the pot to fetch some more hot water. Lance followed her into the kitchen.
“Why did you run away from home after I left for America?” he asked quietly, once they were alone.
Unable to tell him the truth, Morgan said, “I … I just needed to get away for a while.” She turned to fill the kettle and switched it on to boil.
He surveyed her gravely. “I’ve been haunted by the thought that you might have discovered you were pregnant,” he said softly. “I know we took precautions, but there was just that once …” He took hold of her arm and swung her around so that he could see her face. “Am I right?”
Morgan looked down, trying to swallow the sudden tears that welled behind her eyes and threatened to spill over.
“Oh God, why didn’t you tell me?” He wrapped his arms around her once more, and held her close, rocking her in a wordless expression of comfort.
Morgan allowed herself a few moments to cherish his presence before freeing herself from his embrace.
“I wasn’t … I didn’t …”
“It was. And I’m sure you did,” he contradicted. “I should have followed my hunch and come to find you. I am so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”
“It’s not …” Morgan tried again.
“Please, Mo. Please just tell me the truth.”
“The truth?” Morgan took a deep breath. “Okay, then. Yes, I was pregnant, and no, I didn’t tell you because going to America was your big chance and I didn’t want to spoil it for you. But in the event, I lost the baby, Lance. I had a miscarriage. And so I went back to live with my grandmother – which was so much better than living at Cornwallis Hall, I have to say. And with her help I turned my life around. So … no regrets, okay?”
“Every regret. I wish I’d been there for you. It must have been a terrible, heart-breaking time.”
Morgan gave another sniff, and wiped her eyes on the back of her hands. “It was,” she said in a small voice. “But Merlin and Elspeth rescued me, and looked after me, and summoned Gran. And she was the best in the world. It’s thanks to her that I went back to school, and on to university, and followed the path I’ve taken.”
“And I’m so proud of you.” Lance’s voice was full of regret. “So, do you have anyone in your life now, Mo?”
Only you, she thought. “I’ve had several men in love with me over the years,” she said.
“Ah.” He said no more, and made no further move to touch her as she poured boiling water into the empty pot and led the way back to the sun room.
Elspeth was passing plates around, urging everyone to eat, while Merlin was trying to engage Arthur and Elaine in conversation. Morgan excused herself, and went to find the bag that contained her heritage. Everyone quietened when she came back into the room, opened the bag, and spilled out the objects within.
“Cool!” Ralph swooped onto the book of spells, while Will, his little brother, picked up the purple crystal and stared solemnly into its depths.
“Careful!” Merlin took the book from Ralph. “This is very old, so we have to be very gentle with it,” he said, and opened it to show Ralph some of the writing inside.
“These magical objects belonged to Morgana, but she left them with her daughter Marie when she brought Marie and her husband into our world.” Even as she said the words, Morgan knew how fanciful they sounded. “I found them in the attic at Cornwallis Hall,” she added defensively. “They were packed away with our mother’s things. Even she recognized their value although she obviously didn’t understand it.”
“What’s this?” Arthur picked up the bundle of wooden tiles. At least she’d captured his interest, Morgan thought.
“It’s like the Tarot.” She decided to have one last try. “Would you like Merlin to do a reading for you?” she asked hopefully.
Merlin put down the book and, without waiting for Arthur’s assent, held out his hand. With some reluctance, Arthur handed over the bundle. Merlin did his usual shuffle then spread them out and moved them around again. He was about to speak, but stopped himself. Head perched to one side, he looked like a fluffy owl. “Pick one,” he said, after deliberating silently for a few moments. “It’s the future we need to know, not the past.”
“I don’t believe in this sort of thing. In fact, I think it’s all rubbish.” But Arthur did as he was told. Merlin took the tile from him and set it down so that the antique design was face up where they could all see it.
Morgan snatched it up, surprised to see that it was the seated figure on the throne, crowned, and with the sword in his hand. “That’s you, Arthur,” she said.
Arthur gave a disbelieving grunt but, at Merlin’s instruction, he turned over another tile. This was something different, and Morgan looked to Merlin, keen to hear his explanation for it looked like a muddle of clouds and scattered objects to her.
“That’s what it is. A muddle.” Merlin said her thoughts aloud. He turned to Arthur. “You have an important decision to make, and it’s imperative you choose the right path.”
“This is all nonsense.” Arthur threw down the tile and turned away. With an impatient exclamation, Merlin said, “You take one, Morgan.”
Morgan hesitated. She’d had enough bad news; she didn’t want to hear any more. But as she met Merlin’s gimlet stare she reached out an unwilling hand.
“The burning tower.” Merlin’s voice was flat with disappointment.
“What does that mean?” In spite of his professed disbelief, Arthur had turned back to watch the proceedings.
Morgan couldn’t bear to listen as, once more, Merlin began to spell out the message of death and destruction. But, try as she would, she couldn’t shut out the thoughts of those around the table.
In spite of his expression of disdain, she could tell that Arthur was horrified. So was Elaine, although her concern was mostly for the boys who were also listening – although they were too young to comprehend what they were hearing. Lance was oblivious; his thoughts were focused on her, and she could hear his guilt and regret over his abandonment of her, coupled with his regret over his marriage to Gwen.
“So what you’re saying is we’re all doomed, and there’s no hope for us at all?” Arthur’s mocking tone belied his thoughts.
“Take one more tile,” Merlin commanded. He held up a hand as Arthur reached out, staying him until he’d shuffled them out of order once more. “Now choose,” he said.
It was the same tile that Morgan had first picked up. “The High Priestess.” A smile quirked Merlin’s mouth as he glanced at Arthur. “Your sis
ter’s emblem. The fact that you’ve chosen it means that she will become important in your life. Take another.”
Arthur’s hand hovered over the array of tiles before he finally picked one up. “And here you are again,” Merlin said. “Brother and sister sitting side by side, wearing symbols of their chosen office, but equal in power.”
Arthur gave a snort, and Morgan scowled at him. Ignoring the interplay, Merlin said, “Take another, Morgan.”
She picked it up. This one was different; a star shining down on a woman crouched by a pool scooping up water with one container, and pouring water onto the land from a container held in her other hand. Studying it, she thought the design seemed to hold out some prospect of hope.
“It does.” Merlin echoed her thoughts. As Arthur looked enquiring, he went on to spell out more carefully what the implications seemed to suggest: that life was still possible. “Now you take one,” he instructed Arthur.
This time Arthur obeyed without hesitation, seemingly caught up in the narrative of their life that Merlin was unreeling.
“A path again,” Merlin said reflectively. He showed the tile to Morgan. “But it’s different from the one you chose, see? The way is clear now, and it looks like you have turned your back on the past, leaving everything behind, but striding confidently towards your future.”
A sudden guffaw from Arthur made Merlin pause momentarily. Then he said, “This is the most hopeful card of them all. It makes me think that …”
A blinding flash lit the sky, and a wave of heat rolled through the room. Morgan cried out a warning, but her cry was lost as everything began to shake while a deep boom blasted their ears like thunder, rolling on and on and on, accompanied by several other blazing flares of light. Windows shattered in an explosion of flying glass. Like a hen sheltering her brood, Elaine pulled her sons close and dived under the huge table with them in an effort to escape the lethal fragments. Morgan dropped to the floor and buried her face in her arms for protection, while wondering if the whole house was going to collapse on top of them and bury them in rubble.
The Once and Future Camelot Page 29