Pendragon

'With no thanks to me,' the abbot objected. 'It was Avallach's doing, not mine.'

'Avallach?' I had never heard that part of the tale before. 'What do you mean?'

Elfodd regarded me with an expression close to suspicion. 'No?' he turned away. 'Perhaps I have said too much. I have spoken above myself.'

'What is it, Elfodd? Tell me, I charge you. There is a mystery here and I would know it.' He made no answer. 'Elfodd! Tell me, what is it?'

'I cannot,' he said. 'It is not my place.’

‘Then tell me who may speak?'

'Ask Avallach himself,' the abbot said. 'Ask your grandfather. He knows.'

My heart quickened within me. Leaving Arthur to the abbot's care, I fled the chamber and went in search of Avallach. It did not take long. I found him at prayer in the small chapel he had made in one of the rooms in the west wing of the palace. I entered the chapel and went to kneel beside him. He finished his prayer and raised his head.

'Ah, Merlin, it is you,' he said, his voice a soft rumble of thunder. 'I thought you might come here. How is Arthur?'

'Weak and growing weaker,' I replied, speaking the full force of my fear. 'He may not live through the night.'

Avallach's generous features assumed an expression of heart-sick grief. 'I am sorry,' he said.

'The Bear of Britain is not dead yet,' I replied, and told him what Elfodd had brought to mind.

'I remember it well,' Avallach agreed. 'Oh, we were worried for you, Merlin. We almost lost you.'

'Elfodd said that but for you I would have died. Is that true?'

'It was a miracle of God's blessing,' the Fisher King replied. 'And when I asked him what he meant, Elfodd would only say that he had spoken above himself. He would tell me nothing more about it. He said I must ask you.' I stared at him hard. 'Well, Grandfather, I am asking you: what did he mean?'

Avallach regarded me for a long time in silence, then lowered his curly, dark head. 'It is the Grail,' he answered at last, his voice still and low. 'He is talking about the Grail.'

I remembered: the holy cup of the Christ. It had come to Britain with the man who had paid for that last meal in the upper room, the tin merchant, Joseph of Arimathaea. I had seen it once, years ago, while praying in the shrine. 'I have always thought it was a vision,' I said. 'It is more than that,' Avallach answered. 'Very much more.'

My heart leapt with sudden joy. 'Then you must use it to heal Arthur, as you used it to heal me.' I jumped to my feet and made to hasten away.

'No!'

Avallach's stern refusal halted me before I had taken two paces.

'Why? What do you mean? Arthur is dying. The Grail can save him. If you have it, you must use it to heal him.'

The Fisher King rose slowly; I could see sorrow like an immense weight upon his shoulders. 'It cannot be,' he said softly. 'It is not my place to decide such things. It is God's place; He must decide.'

'It is ever God's good pleasure to heal the sick,' I insisted. 'How can you withhold that healing if it is within your power?'

He merely shook his head. 'The Grail,' he said gently, 'the Grail, Merlin, is not like that. It is not to be used so. You must understand.'

'I do not understand,' I declared flatly. 'I only know that Arthur is dying, and if he dies the Kingdom of Summer dies with him. If that should happen, Britain will fall, and the West will die. The light of hope will fail and darkness will overtake us at last.'

'I am sorry, Merlin," Avallach said again. 'I would it were otherwise.' He made to return to his prayers.

Now it was my turn to challenge and refuse. 'No!' I shouted. 'Do not think to pray for Arthur's healing when you hold that healing in your hands yet refuse to give it.'

'Death,' replied the Fisher King sadly, 'is also God's good pleasure. Do you think this easy for me? I sit here every day and watch people die. They come to the shrine – this plague has oppressed us sorely! – and we do what we can for them. A few live, but most die. As I said, it is for God to decide. He alone holds power over life and death.'

'He has given you the Grail!' I argued. 'Why has he done that if he did not intend you to use it?'

'It is a burden more terrible than any I know," moaned Avallach.

'Yet you used it once to heal me,' I persisted. 'You took it upon yourself to decide then. You saved my life. Where is the harm?'

'That was different.'

'How so?' I demanded. 'I see no difference at all.' He looked away, sighing heavily. 'You are my daughter's only child; the only son of your father. You are my flesh and blood, Merlin, and I am weak. I could not help myself. I did it to save you.'

'Indeed!' I cried, my voice ringing in the rock cell. 'My life was saved so that the Kingdom of Summer would not die. Perhaps I was saved so that I could stand here before you this night and argue for Arthur's life.'

The Fisher King observed me thoughtfully. 'Who is to say?'

'You preserved me, and so preserved the vision of the Summer Realm. Hear me, Avallach, the Kingdom of Summer is near – closer now than it has ever been. How can we let the Summer Lord die?'

He said nothing, though I could see that he was wavering. 'If you are the keeper of this Grail,' I said solemnly, 'then it is for you to exercise the power of your position for the good of all. I tell you the truth, there is not another life the worth of Arthur's, and even now it is slipping away from us. Saving that life will lead to the salvation of generations yet unborn.'

Avallach pressed a hand to his head wearily. 'Do you not know I have been entreating the Throne of Heaven on his behalf? I have not left off one moment since he arrived.'

'God will welcome Arthur in his time,' I affirmed. 'But that time is not yet. This I know. If a life is required, I stand ready to give mine.' I raised my hands to Avallach in supplication. 'Save him. Please, save him.'

'Very well,' Avallach relented. 'I will do what I can. Though I do not command the Grail, as you seem to think. I can only ask. The Grail answers how it will.'

I did not know what form the Fisher King's ministrations would take; but, as we hurried back across the yard to Arthur's chamber, I offered to help in any way I could. 'Tell me what is to be done, Grandfather, and it will be done.'

Avallach stopped beneath the gallery roof. 'No one can aid me, Merlin. What I do, I must do alone.’

‘As you will.'

'Every mortal creature must be removed from this place,' Avallach continued. 'Every male and female, all mortal flesh, whether human or animal, must be removed beyond the walls of the palace. Arthur only may remain.'

I wondered at this, but accepted his instructions. 'It shall be as you say.'

While Elfodd and I ran through the Fisher King's palace, rousing everyone from bed, Llenlleawg awakened the stable hands and began moving the livestock from the barns and pens. By torchlight we made our way down the narrow twisting path to the lake. Some led dogs on leashes, others horses; several drove cattle: sheep, kine, and goats; two or three carried bird cages, and one child held an armful of kittens. In a little while, all who lived in the palace – mortal, Fair Folk, birds, and beasts – were gathered at the lakeside below the abbey. The horses and cattle grazed quietly in the long grass.

Charis and Gwenhwyvar were the last to leave Arthur's side. 'Come, lady, we can do nothing more for him,' Charis said, taking Gwenhwyvar by the hand. 'It is time to give him up to the care of another.'

'I am loath to leave him, Lady Charis,' Gwenhwyvar said, tears swelling in her eyes. She lowered her face to Arthur's and kissed him. A tear splashed on the king's cheek; she kissed it away.

'Come,' I said gently, 'for unless you leave, he cannot be healed.'

Charis and I led the queen from Arthur's deathbed. At the doorway, I paused and looked back at his body sunken in the cushions of the litter, so still, so silent, as if already sinking into dissolution and decay. Gwenhwyvar hesitated and turned; she ran back to the litter and, unfastening the brooch at her shoulder, removed her cloak and spread it over him.