Mists of Avalon - Marion Zimmer Bradley [389]
And I bent to the ground in thanksgiving, knowing that my prayers had been heard and my penance done.
10
The snow was beginning to melt off the hills and a few of the earliest wild flowers showed in sheltered valleys when the Lady of the Lake was summoned to the barge to greet the Merlin of Britain. Kevin looked pale and worn, his face haggard, his twisted limbs dragging more reluctantly than ever, and he braced himself with a stout stick. Niniane noticed, her eyes hiding the pity she felt, that he had been forced to put My Lady from him into the hands of a serving-man, and she pretended not to see, knowing what a blow that must have been to his pride. She slowed her own steps on the path toward her dwelling place, and there she welcomed him, summoned her women to build up the fire, and sent for wine, of which he took only a token sip, and bowed gravely in thanks.
“What brings you here so early in the year, Venerable?” she asked him. “Have you come from Camelot?”
He shook his head. “I was there for a part of the winter,” he said, “and I spoke much with Arthur’s councillors, but early in the spring I went southward on a mission to the treaty troops—I should say now, I suppose, the Saxon kingdoms. And I take it you know whom I saw there, Niniane. Was that Morgause’s doing, or yours, I wonder?”
“Neither,” she said quietly. “It was Gwydion’s own choice. He knew he should have some experience in battle, Druid teaching or no—there have been warrior Druids ere this. And he chose to go south to the Saxon kingdoms—they are allied with Arthur, but there he would not come under Arthur’s eyes. He did not—for reasons known as well to you as to me—wish for Arthur to set eyes on him.” After a moment she added, “I would not swear that Morgause did not influence his choice. He takes counsel of her, when he will seek the counsel of any.”
“Is it so?” Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Aye, I suppose so—she is the only mother he has ever known. And she ruled Lot’s kingdom as well as any man, and still rules, even with her new consort.”
“I heard not that she had a new consort,” said Niniane. “I cannot see as well what happens in the kingdoms as did Viviane.”
“Aye, she had the Sight to aid her,” Kevin said, “and maidens with the Sight when her own Sight failed her. Have you none, Niniane?”
“I have—some,” she said hesitating. “Yet it fails me now and again—” and she was silent a moment, staring at the flagstones of the floor. At last she said, “I think—Avalon is—is drifting further from the lands of men, Lord Merlin. What season was it in the world outside?”
“Ten days have passed since the equinox, Lady,” said Kevin.
Niniane drew a long breath. “And I kept that feast but seven days since. It is as I thought—the lands are drifting. As yet no more than a few days in every moon, but I fear soon we shall be as far from sun tide and moon tide as that fairy kingdom they tell of . . . it is ever harder to summon the mists and to pass forth from this land.”
“I know,” said Kevin. “Why, think you, I came at the slack of the tide?” He smiled his twisted grin and said, “You should rejoice—you will not age as women in the outer world are prone to age, Lady, but remain younger.”
“You do not comfort me,” said Niniane with a shudder. “Yet there is none in the outer world whose fate I follow, save—”
“Gwydion’s,” said Kevin. “I thought as much. But there is one with whose fate you should be concerned as well—”
“Arthur in his palace? He has renounced us,” said Niniane, “and Avalon lends him no more help—”
“It is not of Arthur I spoke,” said Kevin, “nor does he seek help from Avalon, not now. But—” He hesitated. “I heard it from the folk of