She herself had a privileged place, with Igraine, Lot, Morgause and her sons, and the family of Ectorius. King Lot, slender and dark and charming, bent over her hand and embraced her and made a great show of calling her kinswoman" and "niece," but Morgaine, looking behind the superficial smile, saw the sullen bitterness in Lot's eyes. He had schemed and intrigued to prevent this day. Now his son Gawaine was to be proclaimed Arthur's nearest heir; would that satisfy his ambition, or would he continue to work to undermine the authority of the High King? Morgaine slitted her eyes at Lot and discovered she did not like him at all.
Then the bells rang from the church and a cry went up all along the slopes overlooking the flat land before the church, and out of the church door a slender youth was walking, the sun glinting on his shining hair. Arthur, thought Morgaine. Their young king, like a hero out of legend, with that great sword in his hand. Although she could hear no words from where she sat, she saw the priest place on his head Uther's slender golden circlet.
Arthur raised the sword in his hand and said something she could not hear. But it was repeated from mouth to mouth, and when she heard it, Morgaine felt the same thrill she had felt, seeing him come victorious and crowned from the victory over the King Stag.
For all the peoples of Britain, he had said, my sword for your protection, and my hand for justice.
The Merlin came forward in his white robes of state; next to the venerable Bishop of Glastonbury, he looked mild and gentle. Arthur bowed briefly to them both, taking each of them by the hand. The Goddess put it into his head to do that, Morgaine thought-and in a moment she heard Lot saying as much.
"Damned clever, that, to set the Merlin and the Bishop side by side, in token that he'll be advised by both!"
Morgause said, "I don't know who had the teaching of him, but believe me, Uther had no foolish son."
"It is our turn," Lot said, rising to his feet, holding out his hand to Morgause. "Come, Lady; don't mind worrying that old crew of greybeards and priests. I've no shame to confess you sit at my side as my equal in all things. Shame to Uther that he didn't do likewise with your sister."
Morgause's smile twisted. "Perhaps it is our good fortune that Igraine had not the strength of will to insist on it."
Morgaine rose to her feet, driven by a sudden impulse, and went forward with them. Lot and Morgause motioned her courteously to precede them. Though she did not kneel, she bowed her head slightly. "I bring you the homage of Avalon, my lord Arthur, and of those who serve the Goddess." Behind her she could hear the priests murmuring, see Igraine among the black-robed sisters from the convent. She heard Igraine as if her mother had spoken: Bold, forward, she was headstrong even as a child. She forced herself not to hear. She was a priestess of Avalon, not one of those housebound hens of God!
"I welcome you, for yourself and for Avalon, Morgaine." Arthur took her by the hand, and placed her near where he stood. "I do you all honor as the only other child of my mother, and Duchess of Cornwall in your own right, dear sister." He released her hand and she bent her head to keep herself from fainting, because her eyes had blurred and her head swam. Why must I feel like this now? Arthur's doing. No, not his, the doing of the Goddess. It is her will, not ours.
Lot stepped forward, kneeling before Arthur, and Arthur raised him. "Welcome, dear Uncle."
That same dear Uncle, Morgaine thought, who if I am not mistaken would gladly have seen him die as an infant.
"Lot of Orkney, will you keep your shores against the Northmen, and come to my aid if the shores of Britain are threatened?"
"I will, kinsman, I swear it."
"Then I bid you keep the throne of Orkney and Lothian in peace, and never will I claim it or fight against you for it," said Arthur, and bent slightly to kiss Lot on the cheek. "May you and your lady rule well and long in the North, kinsman."
Lot, rising, said, "I beg leave to present you a knight for your company; I beg you to make him one of your Companions, Lord Arthur. My son Gawaine-"
Gawaine was big, tall and strongly built, rather like a male version of Igraine and Morgause herself. Red curls crowned his head, and though he was not much older than Arthur himself-in fact, Morgaine thought, he must have been a little younger, for Morgause had not wedded Lot until Arthur was born-he was already a young giant, six feet tall. He knelt before Arthur, and Arthur raised him and embraced him.
"Welcome, cousin. I will gladly make you the first of my Companions; I hope you will join and be welcomed by my dearest friends," he said, and nodded to the three young men standing at one side. "Lancelet, Gawaine is our cousin. This is Cai, and this Bedwyr; they are my foster-brothers. Now I have Companions, even as did that Alexander of the Greeks."
Morgaine stood and watched all that day as kings from all over Britain came to pledge fealty to the throne of the High King and swear to join him in war and to defend their shores. Fair-haired King Pellinore, lord of the Lake Country, came to bend the knee before Arthur and beg to take leave even before the end of the feasting.
"What, Pellinore?" said Arthur, laughing. "You, who I thought would be my staunchest supporter here, to desert me so soon?"
"I have had news from my homeland, Lord, that a dragon is raging there; I would swear to follow it until I have killed it."
Arthur embraced him and handed him a gold ring. "I will keep no king from his own people when they have need of him. Go and see to the killing of the dragon, then, and bring me its head when you have killed it."
It was nearing sunset when at last all the .kings and gobies who had come to swear allegiance to their High King had finished. Arthur was no more than a boy, but he stood through the long afternoon with unflagging courtesy, speaking to each person who came as if he had been the first. Only Morgaine, trained in Avalon to read faces, could see the traces of weariness. But at last it was over, and servants began to bring the feast.
Morgaine had expected Arthur to sit down to dine among the circle of youths he had appointed as his Companions; it had been a long day he was young, and he had done his duty with concentrated attention all day. Instead, he sat among the bishops and eldest kings of his father's Council - Morgaine was pleased to see that the Merlin was among them. After all, Taliesin was his own grandsire, although she was not sure that Arthur knew that. When he had eaten (and he stuffed himself like a hungry boy who was still growing)-he rose and began to make his way among the guests.
In his plain white tunic, adorned only with the slender gold coronet, he stood out among the brightly dressed kings and nobles like a white deer in the dark forest. His Companions came at his side: the huge young Gawaine, and Cai, dark, with Roman, hawklike features and a sardonic smile-as he came closer Morgaine saw chat he had a scar at the corner of his mouth, still red and ugly, which drew his face up into an ugly leer. I was a pity; he had probably been good-looking before that Lancelet, next to him, looked pretty as a girl-no; something fierce, masculine and beautiful, perhaps a wild cat. Morgause looke at him with a greedy eye.
"Morgaine, who is that beautiful young man-the one beside Cai and Gawaine, the one in crimson?"
Morgaine laughed. "Your nephew, Aunt; Viviane's son Galahad. But the Saxons named him Elf-arrow, and mostly he is called Lancelet."
"Who would have thought that Viviane, who is so plain, should have such a handsome son! Her older son Balan - now he is not handsome; rugged, strong and hearty, and trustworthy as an old dog, but he is like Viviane. No one alive could call her beautiful!