I turned my face away and said, "For that I came here ..." and for the first time I knew indeed that I had come here to die. "All I have tried to do is in ruin, I have failed, failed ... it should be your triumph, Merlin, that Arthur has won."
He shook his head. "Ah, no, my dear, no triumph," he said. "I do what the Gods have given me to do, no more, and you do the same. And indeed if your doom shall be to see the end of the world we have known, why then, my dearest love, let that doom find us each in our appointed place, serving what our God has given us to serve ... . It is laid on me to recall you to Avalon, Morgaine, I know not why. My task would be simpler with only Niniane there, but, Morgaine, your place is in Avalon, and mine where the Gods shall decree. And in Avalon you can be healed."
"Healed." I said it in contempt. I did not care.
Kevin looked at me sadly. "My dearest love," he had called me. It seemed to me now that he was the one person alive who knew me as I was; before every other person alive, even Arthur, I had worn a different face, seeking always to appear other and better than I was; even to Viviane, that she might find me more worthy to be a priestess ... . For Kevin I was Morgaine, thus and no other. It came to me that even if I stretched forth my hand to him as the Death-crone he would see nothing but my own face, Morgaine. ... I had always felt that love was other than this, was that burning I had felt for Lancelet,for Accolon. For Kevin I had felt little save for that detached compassion, friendship, kindness; what I had given him had meant but little to me, and yet... and yet he alone had taken thought to come to me, to care whether or no I died here of grief.
But how dared he break in upon my peace, when I had almost won through to that utter quiet which was beyond life? I turned away from him and said, "No." I could not come back to life again, could not struggle and suffer, and live with the hatred of those who had once loved me ... . If I lived, if I returned to Avalon, I must enter again into a death struggle with Arthur whom I loved, I must see Lancelet still in Gwenhwyfar's prison of love. I had ceased to care, I could endure no further the pain that was in my heart ... .
No. I was here, in silence and peace, and before long, I knew it now, I would pass even further into peace ... the dizziness that was near to death was drawing closer and ever closer, and this Kevin, this traitor, would bring me back? I said, "No," again and turned away, my hands covering my face. "Leave me in peace, Kevin Harper. Hither I came to die. Leave me now."
He did not move, nor did he speak, and I sat very still, my veil over my face. After a little time, surely, now he would arise and leave me, for I had not the strength to go forth from him. And I... I would sit here until I was carried back to my bed by the women, and then I would never rise again.
And then, into the silence, I heard the soft sound of the harp. Kevin played, and after a moment he sang.
I had heard a part of this ballad, for he had sung it often at Arthur's court, of that bard in ancient times, sir Orfeo, who made the trees to dance and the stones on the plain to stand in a ring and dance, and all the beasts of the wood to come and lay themselves at his feet when they should have rent him with their claws. But beyond that, today, he sang the other part of the song, which was a Mystery, and which I had never heard before. He sang of how the initiate, Orfeo, had lost her that he loved, and had descended into the Afterworld and spoken there before the Lords of Death, and pleaded for her, and was given permission to go into the dark lands, and bring her forth, and then he had found her there on the Undying Plains ... .
And then his voice spoke from the soul ... and I heard what seemed my own voice pleading.
"Seek not to bring me forth, when I am resigned to stay here in death. Here within these undying lands all is at rest, with neither pain nor struggle; here can I forget both love and grief."
The room faded away around me; no longer could I smell the smoke from the fireplace, the chill breath of rain beyond the window, I was no longer conscious of my own body, ill and dizzy where I sat. It seemed to me that I stood in a garden filed with scentless flowers and eternal peace, with only the distant voice of the harp breaking unwillingly through the silence. And that harp sang to me, undesired.
It sang of the wind from Avalon, with the breath of apple blossom and the smell of ripened apples in their season; it brought to me the cool freshness of the mist over the Lake, and the sounds of the running deer deep in the forest where the little folk live still, and it brought me the sun-soaked summer where I lay in the sun beneath the ring stones, with Lancelet's arms round me and the blood of life rising like sap within my veins for the first time. Then I felt again in my arms the heavy softness of my little son, his soft hair against my face, his milky breath sweet and soft ... or was it Arthur himself in my lap, clinging to me, his little hands patting my cheek ... again Viviane's hands touched my brow in blessing, and I felt myself a bridge between earth and sky as I stretched my own hands forth in invocation ... high winds swirled through the grove where I lay with the young stag in the darkness of the eclipse, and Accolon's voice spoke my name ... .
And now it was not the harp alone but the voices of the dead and the living crying out to me: "Return again, return, life itself is calling you with all its pleasure and pain ..." and then a new note came into the voice of the harp.
"It is I who calls you, Morgaine of Avalon ... priestess of the Mother ..."
And I raised my head, seeing not Kevin's twisted body and sorrowing features, but where he had stood was Someone, tall and shining, a sunlit glory about his face and in his hands the shining Harp and Bow. I caught my breath before the God, as the voice sang on ... "Return to life, return again to me ... you who have sworn ... life awaits you beyond this darkness of death. ..."
I struggled to turn away. "It is not the God who can command me, but the Goddess. ..."
"But," said the familiar voice in the silence of that eternity, "you are the Goddess and it is I who call you ..." and for a moment, as if in the calm waters of the mirror of Avalon, I saw myself robed and crowned with the high crown of the Lady of Life ... .
"But I am old, old, I belong now to death, not to life ... "I whispered, and in the silence, words heard again and again in ritual suddenly came to life on the lips of the God.
" ... she will be old and young as it shall please her ..." and before my eyes my own mirrored face was again young and fair as the maiden who had sent forth the young stag to challenge the running deer ... yes, and I had been old when Accolon came to me, yet I had sent him forth to the challenge heavy with his child ... and even old and barren, yet life pulsed within me as within the eternal life of the earth and the Lady ... and the God stood before me, the eternal One who summoned me forth to life ... and I took one step and then another, and then I was climbing, climbing from the darkness, following the distant notes of the harp that sang to me of the green hills of Avalon, and the waters of life ... and then I found I was on my feet, reaching for Kevin ... and he put the harp gently aside and caught me, half-fainting, in his arms. And for a moment the shining hands of the God burned me ... and then it was only Kevin's sweet, musical, half-mocking voice that said, "I cannot hold you, Morgaine, as well you know," and he placed me gently into my chair. "When did you eat last, Morgaine?"
"I cannot remember," I confessed, and suddenly I was aware of my deathly weakness; he called the serving-woman and said, speaking in the gently authoritative voice of a Druid and a healer, "Bring your mistress some bread and some warmed milk with honey."