Mists of Avalon - Marion Zimmer Bradley [350]
“Alas,” protested Lancelet, laughing, “would you exile me from your court for all time? How can I kill a dragon who is but a dream?”
Arthur chuckled. “May you never meet a dragon worse than that, my friend! Well, I charge you to make an end for all time of that dragon, even if you must laugh it out of existence by making a ballad of it!”
Elaine rose and curtseyed to the King. “By your leave, my lord, may I ask that the lady Morgaine visit me for a time as well?”
Morgaine said, not looking at Lancelet, “I would like to go with Elaine, my brother, if your lady can spare me. There are herbs and simples in that country about which I know little, and I would learn of them from the country wives. I need them for medicines and charms.”
“Well,” said Arthur, “you may go if you will. But it will be lonely here without you all.” He smiled his rare, gentle smile at Lancelet. “My court is not my court without my best of knights. But I would not hold you here against your will, and neither would my queen.”
I am not so sure of that, Morgaine thought, watching Gwenhwyfar struggling to compose her face. Arthur had been long away; he was eager to be reunited with his wife. Would Gwenhwyfar tell him honestly that she loved another, or would she go meekly to his bed and pretend again?
And for a bizarre moment Morgaine saw herself as the Queen’s shadow . . . somehow her fate and mine have gotten all entangled . . . she, Morgaine, had had Arthur and borne him a son, which Gwenhwyfar longed to do; Gwenhwyfar had had Lancelet’s love for which Morgaine would willingly have given her soul . . . it is just like the God of the Christians to make such blunders—he does not like lovers. Or is it the Goddess who jests cruelly with us?
Gwenhwyfar beckoned to Morgaine. “You look ill, sister. Are you still faint?”
Morgaine nodded. I must not hate her. She is as much victim as I. . . . “I am still a little weary. I will go to rest soon.”
“And tomorrow,” Gwenhwyfar said, “you and Elaine are to take Lancelet from us.” The words were spoken lightly, as a jest, but Morgaine seemed to see very deep into Gwenhwyfar, where the woman was fighting rage and despair like her own. Ah, our fates are entangled by the Goddess, and who can fight her will but she hardened her heart against the other woman’s despair and said, “What is the good of a queen’s champion, if he is not away fighting for what seems good to him? Would you hold him at court and away from the winning of honor, my sister?”
“Neither of us would want that,” Arthur said, coming up behind Gwenhwyfar and laying his arm around her waist. “Since by the goodwill of my friend and champion, my queen is here and safe when I return. Good night to you, my sister.”
Morgaine stood and watched them move away from her, and after a moment she felt Lancelet’s hand on her shoulder. He did not speak, but stood silent, watching Arthur and Gwenhwyfar. And as she stood there, silent, she knew that if she made a single move, she could have Lancelet this night. In his despair, now when he saw the woman he loved returning to her husband, and that husband so dear to him that he could not lift a hand to take her, he would turn to Morgaine if she would have him.
And he is too honorable not to marry me afterward. . . .
No. Elaine would have him, perhaps, on those terms, but not I. She is guileless; he will not come to hate her, as he would certainly come to hate me.
Gently she removed Lancelet’s hand from her shoulder. “I am weary, my kinsman. I am also for my bed. Good night, my dear. Bless you.” And, knowing the irony of it, said, “Sleep well,” knowing he would not. Well, so much the better for the plan she had made.
But much of that night she too lay unsleeping, bitterly regretting her own foreknowledge. Pride, she thought drearily, was a cold bedfellow.
6
In Avalon the Tor rose, crowned with the ring stones, and on the night of the darkened moon, the procession wound slowly upward, with torches. At their head walked a woman, pale hair braided in a crown over a broad, low forehead; she was robed in