Mists of Avalon - Marion Zimmer Bradley [508]
And then, through the sweet scents and joy, the angel was before her and the cup at her lips. Shaking, she drank, lowering her eyes, but then she felt a touch on her head and looked up, and she saw that it was not an angel but a woman veiled in blue, with great sad eyes. There was no sound, but the woman said to her, Before Christ ever was, I am, and it was I who made you as you are. Therefore, my beloved daughter, forget all shame and be joyful because you, too, are of the same nature as myself.
Gwenhwyfar felt that her whole body and heart were made of pure joy. She had not been as happy as this since she was a little child. Even in Lancelet’s arms she had never known this absolute bliss. Ah, could I only have brought this to my lover! She knew that the angel, or whatever Presence had touched her, had moved on, and she was saddened that it had withdrawn, but the joy was still pulsing inside her, and she looked up, with love, as the angel held the burning cup to Lancelet’s lips. Ah, if only she can give you some of this joy, my sorrowing lover!
The fiery flames and the rushing wind filled the hall and were silenced. Gwenhwyfar ate and drank, although she never knew what it was, only that it was sweet and savorous; and she gave herself up to the delight of it. Surely whatever has come among us today, it is holy. . . .
Silence fell on the hall; it seemed bare and empty in the pale noonday, and Gawaine had risen, crying out. And after him Galahad.
“I swear that I shall spend all my life, if need be, till I see the Grail clear before me. . . .”
Bishop Patricius looked faint, and she remembered that he was old; and the altar where the cup had lain was empty. She rose swiftly from her place and went to him.
“Father—” she said, and held a cup of wine to his lips. He sipped, and as the color began to come back into his lined face, he whispered, “Surely something holy has come among us. . . . I was fed truly at the Lord’s Table by the very cup from which he drank on that last holy night before he went to his Passion. . . .”
Gwenhwyfar was beginning to know what had happened—whatever had come to them that day by God’s will was a vision. The bishop whispered, “Did you see, my queen, the very cup of Christ . . .”
She said gently, “Alas no, dear Father, perhaps I was not worthy for that, but I saw an angel, I think, and I thought for a moment it was God’s Holy Mother who stood before me. . . .”
“God has given us each a vision,” said Patricius. “How I have prayed that something might come among us, to inspire all these men with the love of the true vision of Christ. . . .”
Gwenhwyfar thought of the ancient proverb, Have a care what you pray for, it might be given you. Surely something had inspired these men. One after another they were rising, pledging to spend a year and a day searching, and she thought, All of the Round Table now is scattering to the four winds.
She looked at the altar where the chalice had lain. No, she thought, Bishop Patricius and Kevin the Merlin, you were wrong as Arthur was wrong. You cannot call down God to serve your own purposes this way. God blows through human purposes like a mighty wind, like the rush of angel’s wings which I heard in this hall this day, and tears them asunder. . . .
And then she wondered, What is wrong with me, that I am thinking to criticize Arthur or even the bishop for what they did? Yet then, with new strength, she thought, By God, yes! They are not God, they are only men, and their purposes