Mists of Avalon - Marion Zimmer Bradley [314]
“You will always be welcome, and if My Lady is jealous I will turn her face to the wall.” He kissed her, holding her tight for a moment with all the strength in his wiry arms. Then, letting her go, he said, “I thought you would like to hear—I rode with your son to Avalon. He is a well-grown lad, and a clever one, and has some of your gift for music.”
“I dreamed of him the other night,” she said. “In my dream, I think he played on a pipe—like Gawaine’s.”
“Then you dreamed truly,” said Kevin. “I like him well, and he has the Sight. He will be schooled in Avalon for a Druid.”
“And then?”
“Then? Ah, my dear,” said Kevin, “things must go as they will. But I doubt not he will make a bard and a notable wise man—you need have no fear for him upon Avalon.” He touched her shoulder gently. “He has your eyes.”
She would have liked to ask more, but turned to something else. “The feast will not be till tomorrow,” she said, “but tonight the closest of Arthur’s friends and Companions have been bidden to dine. Gareth is to be made a knight upon the morrow, and Arthur, who loves Gawaine like a brother, has chosen to honor him at a family party.”
“Gareth is a good man and a good knight,” said Kevin, “and I will gladly do him honor. I like not Queen Morgause greatly, but her sons are fine men and good friends to Arthur.”
Even though it was a family party, there were many close kinsmen to sit at Arthur’s table here on the eve of Pentecost: Gwenhwyfar and her kinswoman Elaine, and Elaine’s father, King Pellinore, and her brother, Lamorak; Taliesin and Lancelet, and three of Lancelet’s half-brothers—Balan, son of the Lady of the Lake, and Bors and Lionel, both of whom were sons of Ban of Less Britain. Gareth was there, and as always, Gawaine stood behind Arthur at table. Arthur had protested, as they came into the hall. “Sit here beside us tonight, Gawaine—you are my kinsman, and king in your own right in Orkney, and I like it not that you should stand like a serving-man behind my place!”
Gawaine said roughly, “I am proud to stand and serve my lord and king, sir,” and Arthur bent his head.
“You make me feel like those old Caesars,” he complained. “Need I be guarded night and day even in my own hall?”
“For the dignity of your throne, sir, you are even as those Caesars, and more,” insisted Gawaine, and Arthur laughed helplessly.
“I can deny nothing to those of you who were my Companions.”
“So,” Kevin said in an undertone to Morgaine, where they sat side by side, “it is not hubris then or arrogance, but he wishes only to please his Companions—”
“I think, truly, it is so,” Morgaine said in an undertone. “This he loves best, I think, to sit in his own hall and look upon the peace he has wrought; whatever his faults, Arthur truly loves the rule of order and the kingdom of law.”
Later, Arthur gestured them all to silence, calling young Gareth to him. “Tonight you will watch in the church by your arms,” he said, “and in the morning before mass, whichever knight you choose shall make you one of my Companions. You have served me well and honorably, young as you are. If you wish for it, I will myself make you knight, but I will understand if you wish that your brother should give you this honor.”
Gareth wore a white tunic; his hair was like a golden halo curling around his face. He looked almost like a child, a tall child towering to a good six feet high, with shoulders like a young bull. His face was fuzzy with soft golden down too fine to be shaven. He said, stammering a little in his eagerness, “Sir, I beg you—I mean no offense to you nor to my brother, but I—if he will—could I be made knight by Lancelet, my lord and my king?”
Arthur smiled. “Why, if Lancelet will have it so, I have no objection.”
Morgaine remembered a little child prattling of Lancelet to a painted wooden knight she had carved for him. How many people, she wondered, saw such a childhood dream come true? Lancelet said gravely, “I should be honored, cousin,” and Gareth’s face lighted as if a torch