The Shadow Dragons - James A. Owen [86]
They watched as the girl and the old knight walked out of Tamerlane House and toward the northern part of the island.
“Will it be dangerous for them?” asked Chaucer.
“No,” Bert replied with a sad smile. “As a great poet once said, ‘It ain’t nothin’ but a family thing.’”
The guardian was tall and bearded, and his hair was white, with two streaks of gray. He was dressed simply in a tunic and leather breeches, and he carried a black staff.
He started when he first heard them approach, then relaxed when he could see them more clearly, and he even smiled as they stepped into the circle of firelight.
“Greetings, niece,” the man said, rising from where he was tending the fire. “What brings you to the island at the top of the world?”
“Niece?” Quixote exclaimed, startled by the unexpected greeting. He had fully expected to have to answer a riddle, or perform a feat of skill to be allowed to approach.
“Don Quixote,” Rose said in introduction, “this is my uncle, Taliesin the Lawgiver.”
Taliesin bowed his head in greeting. “It is simply Taliesin these days. I no longer deal with laws, or those who would see them broken. I am more than content to spend my days here, tending the fire and guarding the circle.”
“So it’s true,” Rose said. “From here, we can summon the Lady of the Lake?”
“Yes,” he said. “She may be summoned here. But I fear you may not like the reception she gives you.”
“Why is that?” asked Quixote. “I have met her before, and found her to be most gracious.”
“I have heard of you, O Riddle Master,” Taliesin said with a lopsided grin, “but I was speaking about the Grail Child. I have come to terms with her existence, but my sister has not.”
“What did you come to terms with?” asked Rose. “Have I offended you in some way?”
Taliesin shook his head. “Not you, my dear, but your father.”
“I know what he is,” said Rose. “I hope that I’ve learned better lessons than he did.”
Taliesin gave her a long look, then gestured for them to sit by the fire. “Do you know,” he asked when they were seated comfortably, “how Arthur died?”
“I don’t,” said Rose. “Not really, other than knowing that Mordred was involved.”
“Mordred was always on the fringes of the kingdom, waiting for his chance at vengeance,” Taliesin said. His beard glowed red from the fire, and his eyes sparkled as he talked. “But it was not Mordred alone who caused Arthur’s downfall. He was betrayed by one of his own knights, his most trusted and loyal friend.”
“Lancelot,” said Quixote, nodding. “I have met this knight.”
Taliesin looked surprised at this, but simply continued his story. “There had been decades of peace in both worlds, thanks to Arthur. It was, in every possible way, a Golden Age. And then Lancelot fell in love with the queen, Arthur’s wife—your mother, Guinevere. He became consumed with the idea of being with her, of having her to himself. And so he conceived of a plan to see Arthur, his own best friend, killed on the battlefield—and he arranged with Mordred to do the deed.”
“D-did my mother participate in this plan?” Rose asked.
“She did not help, but she knew about it—and she did nothing to stop it until it was well in motion,” said Taliesin.
He paused, and poked some embers from the fire with the staff. They sparked and danced in the air.
“Mordred was successful in his revenge,” Taliesin continued. “Arthur was slain. Together with her sons, Artigel and Eligure, Guinevere removed his body to Avalon. Lancelot was banished for his part in the murder, and Mordred was cut off completely from entering the Archipelago.
“Artigel assumed the Silver Throne and began to draw a curtain of secrecy over the whole Archipelago, to ensure that Mordred never found his way back. And that was the beginning of the separation of the two worlds.
“Because of the contention between our sibling-cousins, Merlin and Mordred, our family has known little else but suffering and grief,” said Taliesin. “Only Thorn, who became the Arthur, has ever