Mists of Avalon - Marion Zimmer Bradley [171]
“He did not tell me, lady, and I do not think he told the Mother Superior either,” said the little girl, not at all unwilling to gossip for a minute, “but did you not send gifts to the church there at the time of the High King’s crowning?”
Igraine had, but she did not think the Archbishop would have come here to speak of a past charity. Perhaps he wanted something more. Priests were seldom greedy for themselves but all priests, especially those from rich churches, were greedy for silver and gold for their altars.
“Who are the others?” she asked, knowing that the young girl was eager to talk.
“Lady, I do not know, but I do know that the Mother Superior wanted to forbid one of them, because"—her eyes grew wide—"he is a wizard and sorcerer, so she said, and a Druid!”
Igraine rose. “It is the Merlin of Britain, for he is my father, and he is no wizard, child, but a scholar trained in the crafts of the wise. Even the church fathers say that the Druids are good and noble men, and worship with them in harmony, since they acknowledge God in all things, and Christ as one of many prophets of God.”
The little girl dropped a small curtsey, acknowledging correction, as Igraine put away the embroidery work and adjusted her veil smoothly around her face.
When she came into the outer room, she saw not only the Merlin and a strange, austere man in the dark dress which churchmen were beginning to adopt to set them off from seculars, but a third man she hardly recognized, even when he turned; for a moment it was as if she looked into Uther’s face.
“Gwydion!” she exclaimed, then, quickly amending, “Arthur. Forgive me; I forgot.” She would have knelt before the High King but he reached out quickly and prevented her.
“Mother, never kneel in my presence. I forbid it.”
Igraine bowed to the Merlin and to the dour, austere-looking Archbishop.
“This is my mother, Uther’s queen,” Arthur said, and the Archbishop responded, stretching his lips in what Igraine supposed was meant for a smile. “But now she has a higher honor than royalty, in that she is a bride of Christ.”
Hardly a bride, Igraine thought, simply a widow who has taken refuge in his house. But she did not say so, and bowed her head.
Arthur said, “Lady, this is Patricius, Archbishop of the Isle of the Priests, now called Glastonbury, who has newly come there.”
“Aye, by God’s will,” the Archbishop said, “having lately driven out all the evil magicians from Ireland, I am come to drive them forth from all Christian lands. I found in Glastonbury a corrupt lot of priests, tolerating among them even the common worship with the Druids, at which our Lord who died for us would have wept tears of blood!”
Taliesin the Merlin said in his soft voice, “Why, then, you would be harsher than Christ himself, brother? For he, I seem to remember, was greatly chided that he consorted with outcasts and sinners and even tax collectors, and such ladies as the Magdalen, when they would have had him a Nazarite like to John the Baptizer. And at last, even when he hung dying on his cross, he did promise the thief that that same night he would join him in Paradise—no?”
“I think too many people presume to read the divine Scriptures, and fall into just such errors as this,” said Patricius sternly. “Those who presume on their learning will learn, I trust, to listen to their priests for the true interpretations.”
The Merlin smiled gently. “I cannot join you in that wish, brother. I am dedicated to the belief that it is God’s will that all men should strive for wisdom in themselves, not look to it from some other. Babes, perhaps, must have their food chewed for them by a nurse, but men may drink and eat of wisdom for themselves.”
“Come, come!” Arthur interrupted with a smile. “I will have no controversies between my two dearest councillors. Lord Merlin’s wisdom is indispensable to me; he set me on my throne.”
“Sir,” said the Archbishop, “God set you there.”
“With the help of the Merlin,” said Arthur, “and I pledged to him I would listen to his counsel always. Would you have me forsworn, Father