"-what harm has he ever done you? To make a fool of him before the whole field-"
Gwydion laughed and said, "If our cousin needs protection before a whole field of his friends, God help Lancelet when he falls among the Saxons or the Northmen! Come, foster-brother, I doubt not he can protect his own reputation! Is that all you have to say to me after all these years, brother, to chide me that I have distressed someone you love so well?"
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 greathearted 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 knew it was my doing you lay without the spark of life."
Gareth pursed his lips and whistled soundlessly. But then he clapped his foster-brother on the shoulder. "Nay, but I put small faith in dreams and visions, youngster. And fate, no man can escape. Did they not teach you that in Avalon?"
"Aye," Gwydion said softly. "And if you fell, even at my hand, in battle, fate then it would be ... but I will not tempt that fate in play, my brother. Some ill chance might guide my hand to strike amiss ... . Let it be, Gareth. I will not take the field this day, let them say what they will."
Gareth still looked distressed. "Well, do as you will, lad. Stay beside our mother, then, since Lamorak will take the field beside Lancelet." He bent to kiss his mother's hand, and went; Morgause, frowning, started to ask Gwydion what he had seen; but he was scowling, staring at the ground, and she forbore, saying only, "Well, if I am to have a young courtier to sit beside me, will you bring me a dipper of water before I go to my seat again?"
"Certainly, Mother," he said, and went off toward the water butts.
To Morgause, the final scrimmage battle was always something of a blur; her head had begun to ache with the sun and she was eager for it to be over. She was hungry, too, and could smell, from a distance, the meat roasting in the pits.
Gwydion sat beside her and explained it to her, though she knew little of the fine points of fighting, nor cared to. But she did note that Galahad acquitted himself well, unseating two riders; she was a little surprised, he seemed so gentle a boy. But then, Gareth too had seemed a gentle child to her, and he was the most fearsome of fighters. At the end, he took the prize on the King's side where Gawaine was at the head of the fighting. To no one's surprise, Galahad won the prize on Lancelet's side; this was customary for a young man who had been knighted that day, and she said so.
"You could have had a prize too, Gwydion," she said, but he laughed and shook his head. "I need it not, Mother. Why spoil this day for my cousin? And Galahad fought well-no one begrudges him the prize."
There were many smaller prizes, and when they were all given, the knights went to be sluiced with buckets of water from head to toe by their squires, and to put on fresh clothing. Morgause went with the ladies of the King's household to a room put at their disposal, where they could arrange their gowns and hair, and wash off the dust and sweat of the stands.
"How do you think?" Morgause asked. "Has Lancelet made himself an enemy?"
Morgaine said, "I think not. Did you see them embrace?"
"They looked like father and son," said Morgause. "Would that they were!"
But Morgaine's face was like stone. "It is many years too late to speak of that, Aunt."
Morgause reflected, Perhaps she has forgotten that I know whose son he really is. But before Morgaine's frozen calm she could only say, "Would you like me to help with your braids at the back?" and took up the comb as Morgaine turned. "Mordred," she said, as she worked. "Well, he showed crafty counsel here, God knows! Now he has won himself a place by valor and impudence, so he need not demand one from Arthur on the grounds of his parentage. The Saxons named him well. But I knew not he was so much of a fighter. He has certainly managed to carry away the luster of the day! Even though Galahad won the prize, no one will talk about anything but Mordred's daring gesture."