Mists of Avalon - Marion Zimmer Bradley [312]
Morgaine sat bolt upright in her room at Camelot, catching at the blanket. No, she told herself, no, it was a dream, only a dream. I do not even know who sits next to Viviane in Avalon, no doubt it is Raven, not this fair-haired woman so like to my mother that I have seen again and again in my dreams. And who knows if such a woman walks the face of this earth or Avalon, or whether she is a confused dream of my mother? I do not remember anyone even a little like her in the House of Maidens. . . .
I should be there. It is I should be at Viviane’s side, and I cast it away of my free will. . . .
“Look,” Elaine called from the window. “Already there are riders coming in, and it is three full days till Arthur’s great feast!”
The other women in the chamber crowded around Elaine, looking down at the field before Camelot; already there were tents and pavilions pitched there. Elaine said, “I see my father’s banner. There he rides, with my brother, Lamorak, at his side—he is old enough to be one of Arthur’s Companions now. I wonder if Arthur will choose him as one.”
“He was not old enough to fight at Mount Badon, was he?” Morgaine asked.
“He was not old enough, but he fought nevertheless, as did every man old enough to hold a sword, and every young boy too,” said Elaine proudly.
“Then I doubt not that Arthur will make him one of his Companions, if only to please Pellinore,” said Morgaine. The great battle of Mount Badon had been fought a year ago on the day of Pentecost, and Arthur had vowed always to keep this day as a time of high feasting and to greet all his old Companions; on Pentecost, too, he would welcome all petitioners and give out justice. And all the subject kings from the outlying kingdoms would come before the High King to renew their allegiance.
“You must go to the Queen and help her dress,” Morgaine said to Elaine, “and I must be off as well. I have much to do if there is to be a great feast in only three days!”
“Sir Cai will see to all that,” Elaine remonstrated.
“Aye, he will see to the feeding and housing of the multitudes,” said Morgaine cheerfully, “but it is I must provide flowers for the hall, and see to the polishing of the silver cups, and it is likely I must make the almond cakes and sweets too—Gwenhwyfar will have other things on her mind.”
And indeed, Morgaine was glad to have so much to do for the three days of feasting; it took her mind away from the dread and terror of her dream. In these days, whenever Avalon came into her mind in a dream, she shut it out with desperation . . . she had not known that Kevin rode north to Lothian. No, she told herself, and I do not know it now, it was only a dream. But once during that day, when she encountered the elderly Taliesin in the courtyard, she bowed to him, and when he put out a hand to bless her, she said shyly, “Father—”
“Yes, dear child?”
Ten years ago, Morgaine thought, I would have been angry that Taliesin speaks to me always as if I were still a child of seven who might crawl into his lap and tug at his beard. Now, obscurely, it comforted her. “Is Kevin the Merlin bound here for Pentecost?”
“Why, I know not, child,” said Taliesin, with a kindly smile. “He has ridden north to Lothian. But I know that he loves you well and that he will return to you when he can. I think nothing would keep him from this court while you were here, little Morgaine.”
Does everyone at this court know that we have been lovers? Surely I have been more discreet than that. Morgaine said waspishly, “Is it common gossip at this court that Kevin the Harper comes and goes at my bidding—when it is not even true?”
Taliesin smiled again and said, “Dear child, never be ashamed to love. And it has meant everything to Kevin, that one so kindly and gracious and beautiful as you—”
“Do you mock me, Grandsire?”
“Why should I so, little one? You are the daughter of my dear daughter, and I love