"Do you think I care what they say? They are like sparrows chirping, and have as much sense about them," Morgaine said, with contempt as blinding as the pain in her head. "But how many of your women really know who fathered my son? You made Arthur confess it-did you confide it to all your women as well?"
Gwenhwyfar looked frightened. "I do not think there are many who know-those who were there last night, when Arthur acknowledged him, certainly. And Bishop Patricius." She looked up at Morgaine, and Morgaine thought, blinking, How kindly the years have treated her; she grows even more lovely, and I wither like an ancient briar ... .
"You look so tired, Morgaine," said Gwenhwyfar, and it struck Morgaine that in spite of all old enmities, there was love too. "Go and rest, dear sister."
Or is it only that there are so few of us, now, who were young together?
THE MERLIN HAD AGED, too, and the years had not been so kind to him as to Gwenhwyfar; he was more stooped, he dragged his leg now with a walking stick, and his arms and wrists, with their great ropy muscles, looked like branches of an ancient and twisted oak. He might indeed have been one of the dwarf folk of which tales told that they dwelt beneath the mountains. Only the movements of his hands were still precise and lovely, despite the twisted and swollen fingers, his graceful gestures making her think of the old days, and her long study of the harp and of the language of gesture and hand speech.
He was blunt, waving away her offer of wine or refreshment, dropping on a seat without her leave, by old habit.
"I think you are wrong, Morgaine, to harry Arthur about Excalibur."
She knew her own voice sounded hard and shrewish. "I did not expect you to approve, Kevin. No doubt you feel that whatever use he makes of the Holy Regalia is good."
"I cannot see that it is wrong," Kevin said. "All Gods are one-as even Taliesin would have said-and if we join in the service of the One-"
"But it is that with which I quarrel," Morgaine said. "Their God would be the One-and the only-and drive out all mention of the Goddess whom we serve. Kevin, listen to me-can you not see how this narrows the world, if there is one rather than many? I think it was wrong to make the Saxons into Christians. I think those old priests who dwelt on Glastonbury had the right idea. Why should we all meet in one afterlife? Why should there not be many paths, the Saxons to follow their own, we to follow ours, the followers of the Christ to worship him if they choose, without restraining the worship of others ... ."
Kevin shook his head. "My dear, I do not know. There seems to be a deep change in the way men now look at the world, as if one truth should drive out another-as if whatever is not their truth, must be falsehood."
"But life is not as simple as that," Morgaine said.
"I know that, you know that, and in the fullness of time, Morgaine, even the priests will find it out."
"But if they have driven all other truths from the world, it will be too late," Morgaine said.
Kevin sighed. "There is a fate that no man, and no woman, may stop, Morgaine, and I think we are facing that day." He reached out one of his gnarled hands and took hers; she thought she had never heard him speak so gently. "I am not your enemy, Morgaine. I have known you since you were a maiden. And after-" He stopped, and she saw his throat twitch as he swallowed. "I love you well, Morgaine. I wish you nothing but well. There was a time-oh, yes, it was long ago, but I forget not how I loved you and how privileged I felt that I could speak of love to you ... . No man can fight the tides, or the fates. Perhaps, if we had sent sooner to Christianize the Saxons, it would have been done by those same priests who built a chapel where they and Taliesin could worship side by side. Our own bigotry prevented that, so it was left to fanatics like Patricius, who in their pride see the Creator only as the avenging Father of soldiers, not also as the loving Mother of the fields and the earth. ... I tell you, Morgaine, they are a tide that will sweep all men before them like straw."
"Done is done," Morgaine said. "But what is the answer?"
Kevin bent his head and it struck Morgaine that what he really wanted was to lay that head down on her breast; not now as a man to a woman, but as if she were the Mother Goddess who could quiet his fear and despair.
"Maybe," he said, his voice stifled, "maybe there is no answer at all. It may be that there is no God and no Goddess and we are quarrelling over foolish words. I will not quarrel with you, Morgaine of Avalon. But neither will I sit idle and let you plunge this kingdom again into war and chaos, wreck this peace that Arthur has given us. Some knowledge and some song and some beauty must be kept for those days before the world again plunges into darkness. I tell you, Morgaine, I have seen the darkness closing. Perhaps, in Avalon, we may keep the secret wisdom-but the time is past when we can spread it again into the world. Do you think I am afraid to die so that something of Avalon may survive among mankind?"
Morgaine-slowly, compelled-put out her hand to touch his face, to wipe away tears; but she jerked her hand back in sudden dread. Her eyes blurred-she had laid her hand on a weeping skull, and it seemed her own hand was the thin, winter-blighted hand of the Death-crone. He saw it too, and stared at her, appalled, for a single terrified moment. Then it was gone again, and Morgaine heard her voice harden.
"So you would bring the holy things into the world, that the holy sword of Avalon may be the avenging sword of Christ?"
"It is the sword of the Gods," Kevin said, "and all the Gods are one. I would rather have Excalibur in the world where men may follow it, than hidden away in Avalon. So long as they follow it, what difference does it make which Gods they call on in doing so?"
Morgaine said, steadily, "It is that I will die to prevent. Beware, Merlin of Britain: you have made the Great Marriage and pledged yourself to die for the preservation of the Mysteries. Beware, lest obeying that oath be claimed of you!"
His beautiful eyes looked straight into hers. "Ah, my lady and my Goddess, I beg you, take counsel of Avalon before you act! Indeed, I think the time has come for you to return to Avalon." Kevin laid his hand over hers. She did not draw if away.
Her voice caught and broke with the tears that had laid heavy on her all this day. "I-I wish I might return-it is because I long so much for it that I dare not go thither," she said. "I shall go there never, until I may leave it never more-"
"You will return, for I have seen it," said Kevin wearily. "But not I. I know not how, Morgaine, my love, but it comes to me that never again shall I drink of the Holy Well."
She looked at the ugly misshapen body, the fine hands, the beautiful eyes, and thought, Once I loved this man. Despite all, she loved him still, she would love him till both of them were dead; she had known him since the beginning of time, and together they had served their Goddess. Time slid away and it seemed that they stood outside time, that she gave him life, that she cut him down as a tree, that he sprang up again in the corn, that he died at her will and she was taken in his arms and brought back to life ... the ancient priest-drama played out before Druid or Christian set foot upon the earth.
And he would cast this away?
"If Arthur shall forswear his oath, shall I not require it at his hands?"
Kevin said, "One day the Goddess will deal with him in her own way. But Arthur is King of Britain by the will of the Goddess. Morgaine of Avalon, I tell you, beware! Dare you set your face against the fates that rule this land?"
"I do what the Goddess has given me to do!"
"The Goddess-or your own will and pride and ambition for those you love? Morgaine, again I say to you, beware. For it may well be that the day of Avalon is past, and your day with it."