Mists of Avalon - Marion Zimmer Bradley [404]
“Duke Marcus keeps the land for me,” said Morgaine. “I knew never that he claimed it, though I know once there was talk I should marry Duke Marcus, or Drustan his nephew—”
“It would have been well if you had,” said Lionel, “for Marcus is a greedy man—he got much treasure with his Irish lady, and I doubt it not, he will try to swallow up all of Cornwall and Tintagel too, if he thinks he can get away with it, as a fox gets away with a barnyard fowl.”
Lancelet said, “I liked better the days when we were all but Arthur’s Companions. Now I am reigning in Pellinore’s country, and Morgaine queen in North Wales, and you, Gawaine, should be king in Lothian, if you had your rights—”
Gawaine grinned at him. “I have neither talent nor taste for kingship, cousin, I am a warrior, and to dwell always in one place and live at court would weary me to death! I am happy enough that Agravaine shall rule at my mother’s side. I think the Tribes have the right of it—women to stay home and rule, and men to wander about and make war. I will not be parted from Arthur, but I admit I grow weary of life in court. Still, a mock battle is better than none.”
“I am sure you will win honor and credit,” said Morgaine, smiling at her cousin. “How does your mother, Gawaine? I have not yet spoken with her.” She added, with a touch of malice, “I have heard she has other help than Agravaine in ruling your kingdom.”
Gawaine chuckled broadly. “Aye, ’tis all the fashion now—it is your doing, Lancelet. After you married Pellinore’s daughter, I suppose Lamorak thought no knight could be great and courtly and win great renown unless he had first been the para—” He stopped himself at Lancelet’s grim face, and amended hastily, “the chosen champion of a great and beautiful queen. I think it is not just a pose—I think Lamorak truly loves my mother, and I begrudge it not. She was wedded to old King Lot when she was not yet fifteen, and even when I was a little fellow I used to wonder how she could live at peace with him and be always kind and good.”
“Kind and good is Morgause indeed,” said Morgaine, “nor had she any very easy life with Lot. He may have sought her counsel in all things, but the court was so full of his bastards he had no need to hire men-at-arms, and any woman who came into the court was his lawful prey, even I who was his wife’s niece. Such behavior is thought manly in a king, and if any criticize it in Morgause, I will have a word to say to them myself!”
Gawaine said, “I know well you are my mother’s friend, Morgaine. I know too Gwenhwyfar does not like her. Gwenhwyfar—” He glanced at Lancelet, shrugged, and held his peace. Gareth said, “Gwenhwyfar is so pious, and no woman has ever had anything to complain about at Arthur’s court—perhaps Gwenhwyfar finds it hard to understand that a woman may have cause for wanting more of life than her marriage gives her. As for me, I am fortunate that Lionors chose me of her own free will, and she is always so busy breeding, or lying-in, or suckling our youngest, that she has no leisure to look at any other man even if she would. Which,” he added, smiling, “I hope she has no desire to do, for if she wished for it I think I could deny her nothing.”
Lancelet’s face lost its grimness. He said, “I cannot imagine that a dame married to you, Gareth, would wish to look elsewhere.”
“But you must look elsewhere, cousin,” said Gawaine, “for there is the Queen looking for you, and you should go and pay your respects as her champion.”
And indeed at that moment one of Gwenhwyfar’s little maidens came and said in her childish voice, “You are sir Lancelet, are you not? The Queen has asked that you will come and speak with her,” and Lancelet bowed to Morgaine, said, “We will speak later, Gawaine, Gareth,” and went away. Gareth watched him, frowning, and muttered, “Ever he runs when she stretches out her hand.”
“Did you expect anything else, brother?” Gawaine said in his easygoing way. “He has been her champion since she was wedded to Arthur, and if it were otherwise—well, so Morgaine