Mists of Avalon - Marion Zimmer Bradley [460]
Gareth laughed and caught Gwydion into a great hug. He said, “Same reckless young one, you are—what put it into your head to do that? Arthur would have made you knight, if you had asked him!”
Morgause remembered: Gareth did not know all the truth about Gwydion’s parentage; no doubt, he meant only, because you are his sister’s son.
Gwydion said, “I am sure of it—he is always kind to his kinsmen. He would have made you knight, Gareth, for Gawaine’s sake, but you took not that road either, foster-brother.” He chuckled. “And I think Lancelet owes me something for all those years I have walked about wearing his face!”
Gareth shrugged ruefully. “Well, it seems he bears you no grudge, so I suppose I too must forgive you. Now you, too, have seen how great-hearted he is.”
“Aye,” said Gwydion softly, “he is so—” then raised his head and saw Morgause. “Mother, what do you here? How may I serve you?”
“I came only to greet Gareth, who has not spoken with me this day,” said Morgause, and the big man bent to kiss his mother’s hand. She asked him, “How will you fight in the mock battle?”
“As always,” said Gareth, “I fight at Gawaine’s side, in the King’s men. You have a horse for fighting, do you not, Gwydion? Will you fight with the King’s side, then? We can make a place for you.”
Gwydion said, with his dark enigmatic smile, “Since Lancelet made me knight, I suppose I should fight with the army of sir Lancelet of the Lake, and at Accolon’s side, for Avalon. But I will not take the field at all today, Gareth.”
“Why not?” Gareth asked and laid his hand on the younger man’s shoulder, looking down at him as he had always done—Morgause thought of a younger Gareth, smiling down at his little brother. “It is expected of those who have been made knight—Galahad will fight among us, you know.”
“And which side will he take?” Gwydion asked. “His father Lancelet’s, or that of the King who has made him heir to his kingdom? Is that not a cruel test of his loyalties?”
Gareth looked exasperated. “How then would you divide the armies for the mock battle, save by the two greatest knights among us? Do you think either Lancelet or Arthur believes it a test of loyalties? Arthur will not take the field himself, just so that no man will have to make the choice whether to strike at his king, but Gawaine has been his champion since he was crowned! Are you going to rake up old scandal? You?”
Gwydion shrugged. “Since I am not intending to join either force—”
“But what will they think of you? That you are cowardly, that you shrink from combat—”
“I have fought enough in Arthur’s armies that I care not what they say,” said Gwydion, “but if you wish, you may tell them that my horse is gone lame and I have no wish to risk more injury to him—that is an honorable excuse.”
“I would lend you a horse of Gawaine,” Gareth said, puzzled, “but if you wish for an honorable excuse, do what you will. But why, Gwydion? Or must I now call you Mordred?”
“You shall call me always what you will, foster-brother.”
“But will you not tell me why you shirk the fight, Gwydion?”
“None other but you could speak that word unchallenged,” said Gwydion, “but since you ask me, I will tell you. It is for your sake, brother.”
Gareth scowled at him. “What, in God’s name, do you mean?”
“I know little of God, or care to,” said Gwydion, and stared down at his feet. “Since you will know, brother—you know from old—I have the Sight—”
“Aye, and what of it?” asked Gareth impatiently. “Have you had some ill dream that I will fall before your lance?”
“No, make not a jest of it,” said Gwydion, and Morgause felt ice go through her veins as he turned up his face to Gareth. “It seemed to me—” He swallowed, as if his throat closed against the words he would speak. “It seemed to me that you lay dying—and I knelt at your side, and you would not speak to me—and I