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But the other half of her insisted, quite against her will, No. It would have been better to destroy it, to melt down the gold if need be, and fashion from it another chalice dedicated, from its first making, to the true service of the true God. For this one is of the Goddess, as they call her, and that same Goddess is that great harlot who has from the beginning of time been the enemy of God ... . Truly the priests say, with woman came evil into this world, and then she was confused, for surely not all that is woman can be evil-even God chose a woman to bear his son, and Christ himself spoke of Heaven to his chosen disciples and their sisters and wives ... .

One, at least, had forsaken that Goddess. She felt her face soften as she looked on Nimue-Elaine's daughter, and very like Elaine as a child, but even more beautiful, with something of the smiling gaiety and dancing grace of the younger Lancelet. So fair and sweet was Nimue, she could not believe anything of her was evil, yet this woman had served since childhood in the very house of the Goddess. And now she had repented of that evil service and come to Camelot, begging that no one should know that she had served in Avalon, not even Bishop Patricius. Not even Arthur. It would be hard, Gwenhwyfar thought, to refuse Nimue anything at all; she had willingly pledged herself to keep the young maiden's secret.

She looked past Nimue to where Patricius was standing, ready to take the cup with his hands. And then ...

... and then it seemed to Gwenhwyfar that a great angel, wings falling away in shadow behind the shining form, raised between its hands a cup that glowed like a great shining star. It was crimson like a beating heart, a glowing ruby ... no, but it was the very blue of the deepest heaven, and there was a scent like all the roses of every garden she had ever entered in all her life. And a great clean-scented wind seemed suddenly to blow through the hall, and though they were at holy service, Gwenhwyfar suddenly felt that she could rise from her seat and run out of doors on the hills, into the great spaces which belonged to God, under his great wide healing sky. She knew, knew deep within her heart, that she would never again be afraid to leave the prison of chamber and hall; she could walk under the open sky and on the hills without fear, because wherever she might go, God would be with her. She smiled; disbelieving, she heard herself laugh aloud, and the small, once-prisoned thing within her asked angrily, At holy service? but the real Gwenhwyfar said, still laughing, though no one heard, If I may not take delight in God, then what is God to me?

And then, through the sweet scents and joy, the angel was before her and the cup at her lips. Shaking, she drank, lowering her eyes, but then she felt a touch on her head and looked up, and she saw that it was not an angel but a woman veiled in blue, with great sad eyes. There was no sound, but the woman said to her, Before Christ ever was, I am, and it was I who made you as you are. Therefore, my beloved daughter, forget all shame and be joyful because you, too, are of the same nature as myself.

Gwenhwyfar felt that her whole body and heart were made of pure joy. She had not been as happy as this since she was a little child. Even in Lancelet's arms she had never known this absolute bliss. Ah, could I only have brought this to my lover! She knew that the angel, or whatever Presence had touched her, had moved on, and she was saddened that it had withdrawn, but the joy was still pulsing inside her, and she looked up, with love, as the angel held the burning cup to Lancelet's lips. Ah, if only she can give you some of this joy, my sorrowing lover!

The fiery flames and the rushing wind filled the hall and were silenced. Gwenhwyfar ate and drank, although she never knew what it was, only that it was sweet and savorous; and she gave herself up to the delight of it. Surely whatever has come among us today, it is holy ... .

Silence fell on the hall; it seemed bare and empty in the pale noonday, and Gawaine had risen, crying out. And after him Galahad.

"I swear that I shall spend all my life, if need be, till I see the Grail clear before me ... ."

Bishop Patricius looked faint, and she remembered that he was old; and the altar where the cup had lain was empty. She rose swiftly from her place and went to him.

"Father-" she said, and held a cup of wine to his lips. He sipped, and as the color began to come back into his lined face, he whispered, "Surely something holy has come among us. ... I was fed truly at the Lord's Table by the very cup from which he drank on that last holy night before he went to his Passion ... ."

Gwenhwyfar was beginning to know what had happened-whatever had come to them that day by God's will was a vision. The bishop whispered, "Did you see, my queen, the very cup of Christ ... "

She said gently, "Alas no, dear Father, perhaps I was not worthy for that, but I saw an angel, I think, and I thought for a moment it was God's Holy Mother who stood before me ... ."

"God has given us each a vision," said Patricius. "How I have prayed that something might come among us, to inspire all these men with the love of the true vision of Christ ... ."

Gwenhwyfar thought of the ancient proverb, Have a care what you pray for, it might be given you. Surely something had inspired these men. One after another they were rising, pledging to spend a year and a day searching, and she thought, All of the Round Table now is scattering to the four winds.

She looked at the altar where the chalice had lain. No, she thought, Bishop Patricius and Kevin the Merlin, you were wrong as Arthur was wrong. You cannot call down God to serve your own purposes this way. God blows through human purposes like a mighty wind, like the rush of angel's wings which I heard in this hall this day, and tears them asunder ... .

And then she wondered, What is wrong with me, that I am thinking to criticize Arthur or even the bishop for what they did? Yet then, with new strength, she thought, By God, yes! They are not God, they are only men, and their purposes are not sacred! She looked at Arthur, walking now among the peasants and subjects at the far end of the hall ... down there something had happened, some peasant had fallen down dead, perhaps overfilled with the joy of the Holy Presence. He came walking back, looking sorrowful.

"Gawaine, must you go-Galahad-? Not you too, my son? Bors, Lionel-what, all of you?"

"My lord Arthur," called out Mordred. He wore, as always, the crimson which suited him so well and which exaggerated, almost to the point of caricature, his likeness to the young Lancelet.

Arthur's voice was gentle, "What is it, my dear boy?"

"My king, I ask your permission not to go on this quest," he said. "Though it may be laid on all your knights, someone must remain at your side."

Gwenhwyfar felt an overflowing tenderness for the young man. Ah, this is Arthur's true son, not Galahad, all dreams and visions! Had there ever been a time when she had disliked and distrusted Mordred? She said, heartfelt, "May God bless you, Mordred," and the young man smiled at her. Arthur bowed his head and said, "Be it so, my son."

It was the first time Arthur had called him so before other men; Gwenhwyfar gauged his disturbance by that. "God help us both, Gwydion -Mordred, I should say-with so many of my Companions scattered to the four corners of the world, and God alone can say whether or no they will ever return ... ." He reached out and clasped Mordred's hands, and for a moment it seemed to Gwenhwyfar that he leaned on his son's strong arm.

Lancelet came to her side and bowed. "Lady, may I take my leave of you?"

It seemed to Gwenhwyfar that tears were as near the surface as joy. "Ah, love, must you go on this quest?" and cared not who heard her speak the words. Arthur too looked troubled, holding out his hand to his cousin and friend. "Will you leave us, Lancelet?"