Mists of Avalon - Marion Zimmer Bradley [370]
Lancelet reached out and gripped his wrist. “God strike me if I could forget that, Gwydion—” He raised his eyes to Arthur, and for a moment, Gwenhwyfar thought Arthur would embrace him; but then Arthur drew back and let his hand drop. Lancelet gazed at him, startled, but Arthur got quickly to his feet.
“There is Uriens, and Marcus of Cornwall—he too grows old. . . . They shall see that their king is not too proud to come and speak to them today. Stay here by Gwenhwyfar, Lance, let it be like old times today.”
Lancelet did as he was asked, sitting on the bench beside Gwenhwyfar. At last he asked, “Is Arthur ill?”
Gwenhwyfar shook her head. “I think he has penance to do and is brooding about it.”
“Well, surely Arthur can have no great sin on his soul,” Lancelet said, “he is one of the most spotless men I know. I am proud that he is still my friend—I do not deserve it, I know, Gwen.” He looked at her so sadly that again Gwenhwyfar almost wept. Why could she not have loved the two of them without sin, why had God ordained that a woman must have only one husband? She was grown as bad as Morgaine, that she could think such a thing!
She touched his hand. “Are you happy with Elaine, Lancelet?”
“Happy? What man alive is happy? I do as best I can.”
She looked down at her hands. For a moment she forgot that this man had been her lover and remembered only that he had been her friend. “I want you to be happy. Truly, I do.”
His hand closed for a moment over hers. “I know, my dear. I did not want to come here today. I love you, and I love Arthur—but the day is past when I can be content to be his captain of horse and—” His voice broke. “And the champion of the Queen.”
She said suddenly, looking up, her hand in his, “Does it seem sometimes to you that we are no longer young, Lancelet?”
He nodded and sighed. “Aye—it does so.”
Morgaine had taken the harp again and was singing. Lancelet said, “Her voice is as sweet as ever. I am put in memory of my mother singing—she sang not so well as Morgaine, but she had the same soft, low voice—”
“Morgaine is as young as ever,” said Gwenhwyfar jealously.
“It is so with those of the old blood, they seem ever young until the day they are suddenly old,” Lancelet said; then, bending down to touch her cheek in a light kiss, he said abruptly, “Never think you are less beautiful than Morgaine, my Gwen. It is a different beauty, that is all.”
“Why do you say this?”
“Love, I cannot bear it if you are unhappy. . . .”
She said, “I do not think I know what it means, to be happy.”
How is Morgaine so untouched? That which wrecked my life and Arthur’s, it lies lightly on her, there she sits laughing and singing, and yonder knight with the serpents about his wrists, is glamoured by her.
Soon after, Lancelet said he must go back to Elaine, and left her; and when Arthur returned, there were Companions and old followers coming to him for concessions, to give him gifts and recall their service. After a time Uriens of North Wales came, portly now and greying, but he still had all his own teeth, and he led his men into the field when he must.
He said, “I have come to ask you a favor, Arthur. I want to marry again, and I would like to be allied with your house. I have heard that Lot of Lothian is dead, and I ask your permission to marry his widow, Morgause.”
Arthur had to stifle a laugh. “Ah, for that, my friend, you must ask leave of sir Gawaine. Lothian is his now, and no doubt he would be glad to marry his mother away, but no doubt, the lady is old enough to have a mind of her own. I cannot order her to marry—it would be like ordering my mother to marry!”
Gwenhwyfar was struck by sudden inspiration. This would be the perfect solution—Arthur himself had said that if it became known at court, Morgaine could be scorned or shamed. She reached out and touched Arthur’s sleeve. She said in a low voice, “Arthur, Uriens is a valuable ally. You have told me that the mines of Wales are valuable as they were to the Romans, for iron and lead . . . and you have a kinswoman whose marriage is in your keeping.”
He