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Lake Lady, by Armond "And there I saw mage Merlin... And near him stood the Lady of the Lake, Who knows a subtler magic than his own- Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful. She gave the King his huge cross-hilted sword, Whereby to drive the heathen out: a mist Of incense curled about her, and her face Wellnigh was hidden in the minster gloom..." -Idylls of the King, by Alfred, Lord Tennyson "And when I was fifteen yeere old, then was I crowned kinge: All Brittaine, that was att an upr?re, I did to quiett bringe; And drove the Saxons from the realme, Who had opprest this land..." -The Legend of King Arthur, by Bishop Thomas Percy *** Bleat, chew, chew, bleat, some farting, more bleating, more chewing ...that's pretty much what I heard, all day, everyday. You'd think I'd get tired of it, but naw, I couldn't get enough... ...could be I'm lazy. Today, I drove the flock to the upper pasture. I was sitting under a tree, chewing a spring grass stalk, watching wind blow white caps on our lake, when I heard them: horse hoofs echoing up the valley. The tromping sound had to be more than one horse, which couldn't be right, cause we only had the old mare Nell. When they came over the ridge, I saw how huge they were and coming fast; Nell would have been a scrawny dog next to them. Look ...look! Nim and Viv are riding those beasts - Nim's on the one that's new moon black and ...the sunshine on her red hair, together with the wind blowing it back, it's like her head's on fire. She's squealing from the fun of it; I fell down laughing. And Viv ...woo hoo! She's hanging on to her shiny brown horse like she'll fall any moment. She's screaming too, but not from fun. I raced down the grassy hill to greet them. "Nim! Where'd you get these monsters," I said, running my hand along the sweaty neck of Viv's horse; she had flopped to the grassy ground and was kissing it. Nim managed to get off hers with a bit more dignity. "From the men that have come, from Logres, Yggy..." she said, her green eyes still shimmering from the excitement of the gallop, "...for you." My name's Ygrayne, but my sisters all call me Yggy. ...well, I'm not really a sister ...yet ...though I will be. There's a rite I have to perform before I'm truly on the Goddess path. It's this trick with water - I've tried and tried to do it, but I can't get it right. No time to think on that, not with *men* here, for me! "Come with me to the pavilion, Yggy, Argante won't suffer these mortals staying in our land long. Ride Vivian's horse, she'll mind the flock." "First, I'm going to sit in this spot, and not move, for a long long time," Viv said, giving a weak smile. The way her butter-colored hair was tangled and draped over her face, I wasn't sure who rode who. I must have had a funny look on my face, because she pointed a shaky finger at me. "Don't you dare laugh, Yggy." But I did. "Why do they want me, Nim?" I'd have thought they'd want a priestess with her purple robe and magic silver pendant. I was nothing special, I tended animals that chewed grass all day. I'm just a girl with hair as black as night, when it isn't filled with sticks and twigs. I'm smaller than my sisters, though I've bigger breasts than most, and my clothes are made for work: green tunic shirt, brown leggings and soft leather boots is what I wear. "My Myrddin has sent them. He needs you. If he needs you, then Logres needs you." That was as mysterious as it was unhelpful! These priestesses are trained to talk this way, I've learned, they like the drama. When Nim spoke of *her Myrddin* she gets a look on her face I can't describe ...it's ...um... ...well, okay, here's the closest I can come up with: when Sister Ragnell bakes her apple cakes and sets them to cool, the fragrance makes my sisters look the way Nim does when she talks of Myrddin. I don't know beans about men, but the crusty druids that show up here now and again don't look near as good as apple cakes. "Do you need Vivian to give you a boost," Nim asked, figuring since I was shorter I'd need help. She'd turned her back to me to climb on her horse. When she was up, she saw I'd already vaulted into the saddle. "-oh! Guess not." "Hey Nim!" "What?" "Race ya," I said, and gave my horse a kick. The ground rushed under me, my hair blew behind and -I couldn't help it- I screamed at the wonder of it. *** I don't know who won, but when we reached our group of waddled huts, I jumped from my horse to run to the woman who wears the robe of purple and silver. "Argante! Did you see? Did you see?" "I saw, dear, and how wonderful it was you didn't break your neck," Argante said. Uh-oh, Argante gave the eye to Nim. Clearly, our High Priestess didn't appreciate horse racing nearly as much as Nim and me. That's not to say she's old, we three look the same age, I guess, it's just ...her mind is filled with the stuff she always speaks of, stars, the wheel of life and the Goddess. She needs to be reminded sometimes to have fun. Once, I had to drag -well, push- her into to the lake just to get her to swim. "I'm sure these men are also happy you are unharmed, as they've ridden between the worlds, just for you." I saw them then, outside our ring of huts, six of them, and they weren't crusty druids. Their chests were like wooden barrels, and over their woolen shirts, they wore another shirt that looked like a fishing net, but made of shiny metal. One -the man whose head was smothered in yellow curly hair- stared at me. I wondered how itchy the scrunchy yellow hair was that covered his jaws, his chin and above his lips. But his eyes -I couldn't see their color at this distance- they never left my face. "Who are they," I whispered to Argante. "They need you to travel with them, Ygrayne." "Nim said we are going to Logres?" I'd heard my sisters speak of this place, but I couldn't remember leaving our valley, ever, so this was exciting news. "Not us, only you." Argante took my hands and turned me so I looked into her eyes. I loved those eyes. I loved everything about my High Priestess, her hazel hair that flowed down her back, with a single braid that lay on her breast. Her silver circlet that glowed blue when the moon was full. Her touch, warmer than my other sisters. "I love you too, Yggy, but stop going all dreamy-eyed on me and listen, we haven't much time." I swear, Argante could pluck the thoughts from my head. "I can't send any sisters with you, because, Enid and Kundry and Vivian are too inexperienced to send to the mortal lands. If they were further along the path I would, but to send them now would be more dangerous than to send you alone." I got that about Viv, if given a chance, she could screw up a rock. "Why not send Nim? Or Dindrane or Ragnall ...or why not come yourself?" "Those sisters ...are grown beyond the mortal world, for us the crossing is no longer possible. For us, the lights across the lake glow brighter, and our time on this shore draws to an end." The elder sisters... -I say elder, because they'd been here longer, but we all look the same young age; something about the water here keeps us so- ...the elder sisters sometimes talked of these 'lights across the lake,' but I could never see a thing on that faraway shore, and I've got good eyes. More priestess drama, I figured. "What about Nim, she could come to see her Myrddin-" "Nimue's crossing to Logres, when she brought you here, was her last, she's not seen her lover since." Nim brought me here? From Logres? What had I been doing there? Why couldn't I remember? "Argante-" She heard my thoughts as if I spoke them. "Whoever you were before, and whoever you may become, know that we have named you Her servant. She will protect you far better than we could..." Then Argante motioned to the one who gawked at me, "...and, that man, Duke Gorlois, will watch over you..." He walked to us at the sounding of his name, bent at his waist, then straightened. How odd. "It is true, Lady Argante, I have lost her once, I will not do so again." Blue. I could see his eyes now, they were blue as sky, and wet too. Why? The air was not dusty. "All she needs is in here." From behind her purple robe, Argante handed him a rucksack. He lifted it and frowned. "All? It is most light-" "She has no finery," Nim said, stepping beside me. "She's no lady of the court." "She was," the man said. I was? What's a court? What's a lady? "Duke, when I brought her here two winters ago, after Myrddin did what I begged him not to do..." Nim shook her head, "...when I brought her here, she was as a babe, knowing neither words, nor even her name. We've taught her much, but she knows nothing beyond this valley and lake." Nim ran a hand through my hair and studied my face; she looked out for me, my Nim. Her face, always so soft and white as snow, showed lines on her forehead. "She knows neither manners, nor subtlety, and she knows not men." This Gorlois man looked down at the sack. "All she needs is here? We *ahem* men ...are not knowledgeable in ...I wouldn't know the first thing about ...has she provisions for her ...illness?" "Ha! Of all things to worry on, this frightens you most?" Nim's green eyes flashed. "Illness indeed! Men! I imagine our Yggy once thought as you, but she knows well the cycles of the Goddess. Fear not, brave man, we've put something in the sack for that, and she can tend to herself during her moon phase." My moon phase? I'd just had one; how long was I going to be gone from my sisters? And what did his yammering words mean? That men didn't have a bleeding time? Goddess, if that's true it's not fair! "Fair Ones," he said, "we must depart. Lady Ygrayne is needed urgently in Tintagel by Myrddin and Lady Argante will bear our presence no longer. Lady, the mage promised you would open the way back for us?" Argante didn't answer, but took the silver chain from her neck and placed it around mine. From it hung a pendant of the bluest azurite, held by three intertwining silver knots. "It is not my gift day, sister-" She put her finger to my lips, then hugged me so tight, I felt her body shudder against mine. "I miss you already, my Yggy." Her eyes filled with water again, mine did too, and my chest tightened. Why was this happening? "Don't send me away, Argante! Nim, I don't want to leave you! Is it because I cannot change the water? Please let me try again!" This is the wondrous Goddess magic my sisters here do, where they change plain water into the healing water of life. I have tried and tried but it remains only water for me. "Child, this is not punishment, I've told you it is not changed by the number of tries. If it were so, nobody would be better than you. It is changed when your heart opens to the suffering of others." She let go of my hands. "You were lent to us from the world, and now the world calls you back. If the Goddess wills, you shall return." She bent close to my ear to whisper, "I pray She wills it." She looked to Gorlois. "The pendant she wears will show the way through the wall of mist, and take you to Logres." Then to me she said, "be brave, little Ygrayne, and know wherever you are, you carry our love." Nim hugged me then, tight. She whispered, or maybe something stopped her from speaking aloud, because her throat quivered. "And tell my gentle mage, though the fates separate us ever, he holds my heart, forever." *** We galloped so hard and for so long that my butt hurt. It kept my mind from seeing the look of my sisters' faces, as we rode away. Or thinking on how scared I was to be away from them, among these strange 'men'. My aching rump didn't stop me from worrying; would I ever return to my sisters? Argante's last words didn't give me comfort. Was this Gorlois man to blame? If so, then he was no friend of mine. Soon, we came to a gray wall of fog. I thought we were stopped, but Argante's pendant glowed wondrous blue, and a hole opened. We galloped through. I cannot describe the world that is between the worlds ...I will not ...but on the other side, the air and light tasted different. I knew this was Logres. We rode through a thick forest, and the leaves were golden, as they turn for the harvest season. It had been spring at our lake, where had summer gone? Gorlois man called out some word, and the men pulled their horses to a trot. Then he rode beside me and we trotted together. "We ride a slower pace, until the horses -and my men- calm themselves. They are unsettled from the magic of the crossing." He did not speak for a long while, yet could not stop staring at me. Finally, "you remember nothing of me? Nothing at all? You must have some memories ...of our time in the rose garden when we met, or on the river bank, or-" I shook my head, I'd never seen this man -or any young man- in my life. Why did his voice sound as Nim's when she spoke of her Myrddin who never comes? "Forgive me, this is agony for me, Lady." He looked away, thank the Goddess. Something bothered me. After I shifted in my saddle to dodge a low hanging tree branch, I asked him. "My name is Ygrayne. Why do you and your men call me 'Lady'?" Gorlois man blinked at me. "Because you're a lady, Lady." He was making a joke? Nim often did, but then she would explain them. I waited for him to do so. "We sometimes call a woman 'Lady', and since you are a woman..." He expected that to answer it, but it didn't help at all! Do men always talk in circles? Gorlois man was beginning to bother me; he had less sense than Viv. "My sisters spoke of many things each night, after dinner in front of our great hearth. They taught me herb lore, and the stories the constellations tell in the night sky, and the rites of the Goddess. But we talked little of men and women. Tell me of them, Gorlois man." "Just Gorlois," he said, and turned silent again. We rode without speaking; to fill the space, I listened to the echo of our hoofs along the path, the bird songs that flew from tree to tree, and the muttering of Gorlois. The poor thing acted brainsick. I wished for the millionth time I could work the Goddess rite, and change water into the water of life. For it could heal him, and he definitely needed a good healing. Then his eyes popped open as if he had some great thought. "Lady ...er, Ygrayne, since we've been riding, have you seen my men looking at you differently?" Differently? Than what?" "Than they look at one another?" I turned in my saddle to see the men that rode behind us. What a curious group! They looked somewhat the same, with their shiny metal shirts over woolen shirts, but beyond that, each 'man' was different, this one looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes, that one was cold, shivering and rubbing his arms, another scratched at the strange hair covering his face. One short, another tall, this one fat, that one thin. Yet all stared at me, it made me squirm. "Yes, Gorlois, they look at me ...longer ...than they look at each other. And they look at these," I cupped one of my breasts in a hand. "As do you." Gorlois' face reddened, though I didn't know why he should be hot, the forest was cold and damp from recent rain. "Well, you see," he said, and cleared his throat, "that is a difference between men and women. Women have larger breasts and men like to look at them and sometimes, to ...touch them." "Truly?" Why on earth would they want to? "Do you wish to touch them?" I held a breast toward him. If that's what he wanted, I could at least be helpful. "No! And do not ask my men to either. And ...put your hand down." His voice sounded as Ragnall's had when I dropped all the hen's eggs one morning, but what had I done to upset him? They want to touch my breasts but cannot? This was all so confusing. I let out a sigh. "I have much to learn." Then it was my turn for a great thought, of rams and ewes. Ewes had large teats and rams had smaller ones. Yet in the mating season, I'd watched what rams and ewes did together to plant a lamb seed in the ewes' bellies. I got excited, because I was on to something, and I felt smart for thinking it. "Are men and women different the way rams and ewes are? Do men and women have a mating season? I've seen rams mount ewes; can you do that to me?" Gorlois' face reddened again, brighter this time. Maybe wearing the shiny shirt over other shirts was making him too hot. That was easily fixed. "You should take off some clothes." "I think the horses have rested enough, Ygrayne. We'll talk ...later." He turned to the men behind us. "Return to gallop!" *** We'd arrived at a mountain of stones stacked to the sky -Gorlois called it a castle- that was built on a cliff next to a lake so big, I couldn't see the other side. Gorlois called that the 'sea,' which is a short name for a big big lake, I guessed. Why there were so many different names for things, I hadn't a clue. This place was filled with so many people! I'd only known my eight sisters in my valley by the lake, and now I find a world full of men and women. A group of girls led me to a room where they took my clothes, and put me in a tub of hot water. That felt wonderful! They scrubbed me with something that smelled of lilacs, dried me, and dressed me in soft white clothing that clung to my breasts and fell to the ground with no pant legs. They told me the cloth was something called samite, and that I wore it by order of mage Myrddin; I laughed, thinking how hard it would be to tend the sheep wearing this. They brushed my hair and tied it behind my head. Gorlois came for me just after they painted something on my lips. When he saw me, his mouth fell open and would not close. His face was clean and he had brushed his dark hair. He'd also changed from his metal shirt to a tunic of deep blue, yet he looked feverish again. "Gorlois? Are you ill?" "Yes. No." He looked away. "I had forgotten; your beauty is such, I cannot bear it." He keeps using words in odd combinations! "I don't understand, I..." I shook my head, and thought hard on how to make my words simple for him, which he clearly needed. "...once, after it snowed, and I went to feed the hens in early dawn, all was covered in white, and the sun made everything sparkle. I ran to my sisters and brought them to see, and they said it was beautiful. This 'beauty' I understand. But why say such to me?" "A beautiful woman that knows not her beauty? You are a jewel, Ygrayne." He almost smiled. I shrugged; Gorlois was likeable enough, but prone to speaking gibberish. His face lost its light again. "Come, let us finish this tragedy, let us go to thrice cursed Myrddin." Gorlois held out an arm; I wasn't sure what to do with it until he took mine and hooked it around his. "I will lead you, Lady. The halls take many twists, and are filled with lords and ladies." "Is a castle always full of so many people?" "No, folk have traveled here from all of Logres. No High King has ruled since ...Uther died ...and they come to see if they can agree on a new king, one to fight the terrible Saxon danger." I didn't know what 'Saxons,' were, like wolves maybe, for I felt the same unease in these castle people that I did in the flock when the wolf was near. "...twelve years since the switch with Uther, twelve..." Again, his words meant nothing to me, but they must have to him, for his eyes filled with tears. What was wrong with him? Perhaps he had not been eating properly. As Sister Ragnall says, 'fruits and greens and grains and meat, keeps a sister smiling and healthy and sweet.' As we walked the halls, voices yelled curious words, like "Wondrous Lady," or "Fair One." "Why are they saying these things," I whispered to Gorlois. I felt so small with everyone staring, and was glad then to have his arm to hold. "As I said, you are beautiful, my love." I had a different thought, that living in stacked stones so close together made people bleat nonsense. Once, when we stopped at a hallway to let people cross before us, a man next to me with a head of gray hair asked, "Where are you from, Radiant Lady?" "I am from the valley by the lake." "What did she say," asked a voice behind me. "The Lady is from the lake," the gray haired man answered. "What?" a second voice cried out from down the hall. "She is the Lady of the Lake," a third answered. As I feared - all here spoke gibberish. *** Gorlois led me to a wide round chamber at the top of the castle, its windows looking on the rows of buildings and huts surrounding the castle. Gorlois said this place was called 'Tintagel.' I looked out the window and saw a full orange moon to the west. It would look so beautiful over the lake; I wished I was there to see it with my sisters. The room was filled with wonders I had no names for, marvelous stones of different hues, herbs I'd never seen, and flasks I could see through, filled with colored waters that bubbled and spit. A silvery plate hung from the wall, so shiny, I could see my face in it. My black hair had a silky sheen I'd not seen before, and my lips looked rose red; this must be what the girls painted on them. On oaken tables lay scrolls stacked on scrolls; Argante often read such things. Before I could get a closer look, the chamber door opened, and a man walked in, wearing a robe with the colors of a rainbow woven in it. His face held no wrinkles, but his long hair was white as milk, and his eyes were two colors! One bright green, the other blue of deep water. "Greetings ...Ygrayne ...what a vision you are!" He must have seen a question on my face, for he continued, "Ah, I'd forgotten, you don't know me anymore. I am Myrddin." He bent over, then straightened. How odd. "You ...are Nim's Myrddin?" "The same, how ...is my Nimue?" He spoke softly. "She's always wishing you were with her, and she told me to say, you will always have her heart." How strange to be speaking finally to the one Nim talks of endlessly. He turned from me to look on the moon. "Every moment I wish to hold her, to run my hands through her soft hair, to feel her lips on mine." He was silent a moment. Then he looked at me as if I'd done something to make him unhappy. "Yet must I strive always to avert the doom that hangs over our people, a doom you could have ended, but chose not to." Something I'd done? To my mind, I'd only lived with my sisters and tended sheep. Poor Nim! Her Myrddin is brainsick too! Were all men so? "Oh, pitiable mage! He has suffered so much!" Gorlois said, then spat on the floor. "Spare us false sorrows; none have suffered more than the two before you." Gorlois' voice was like a cold winter wind and his eyes were red; he was a wolf ready to strike the slow one of the flock. Myrddin lowered his head. "I understand how hard this is for you, to be so near Ygrayne and yet not at all. But you see, I could trust her safety with no other-" "You understand nothing! See if she has the power, end this farce so I may crawl back in my flask, to forget your cursed name and her blessed face." Why were they shouting? What did this have to do with me? "Very well," Myrddin said. "Let us put my theory to the test." He walked to a large wooden chest and pulled a sword from it. Myrddin walked before me, holding it flat across his arms. I'd seen the swords of the men who took me from the lake; the young man, Cai, let me hold his, and named its parts to me. This was much bigger, nearly as tall as me. The sword's scabbard, was covered in jewels, sparkling green and red and white. The hilt was gold, carved into two serpents, their mouth's open to the blade. Wondrous! I do not know why, but my hand itched to curl around its hilt. "What great sword is this?" "Do you remember it? The Romans call it Caliburn, but they mangle its true name: Caledfwlch. It is sent by the Goddess to whom she favors as earthly consort, to wield it is to marry the very land itself." A light shone from Myrddin's eyes as he spoke, and his voice sounded far away, like a shout echoing from valley walls. "He who bears Caledfwlch is High King of Logres." Something about the sword made me lightheaded, I backed up a step. "What do you want of me?" "To draw the sword; all depends on what happens next." I licked my lips. "I doubt I can even lift it, Myrddin-" "Even so, draw Caledfwlch." Fine, if that's what he wanted ...taking a deep breath, I wrapped my hand around its hilt, and pulled the sword from its scabbard. The chamber exploded in brightness, flames shot from the mouths of the serpents, the light of a hundred blazing torches. In my head, singing, singing, and images flashed of people, places, and actions. I dropped Caledfwlch back into its scabbard, and would have fallen to the ground, but for Gorlois' quick hands. The great sword held the thoughts of all who'd ever held the brand, and when it poured those memories into me... ...I remembered my birth name. *** I yanked a dagger from Gorlois' leg holster and spun to my feet. He was too surprised to react, allowing me to slip behind and put the blade to his throat. "Tell me why I'm in this body, or I cut this one's throat!" "Uther?" Myrddin said, "You remember?" "My hand broke a hundred forts! I lit the purification pyre, when Hayarndor climbed to Snowdon's peak. I forged the Order of the Table, and called the best warriors in the land: Brastias, Connla, Ector, Owain, Ulfius, Baudwin and Urien." I was not normally given to dramatic speeches, but I was royally pissed. I am, or was, Uther Pendragon, High King of Logres. I sure didn't feel like 'him'; two years as a young lass had changed me, I saw that now. It started with the physical, being a foot shorter, shaped and built differently, less muscle mass, all the surface differences you'd expect. My changes went deeper though, for my body was on a cycle now, and I saw how it tied me to the greater cycles in a way my old 'Uther' body never did. To the phases of the moon, the seasons of the earth, the cycles of life. Even the voice in my head, that I thought with, was different; higher, softer. But did I remember what it felt like to be King Uther? Oh, most I certainly did. Rage boiled in my stomach. "Only your black magic could have put me in this body, evil mage." I pressed the blade to Gorlois' neck until a trickle of blood ran. "Speak, or our Duke dies!" Myrddin's white eyebrows raised, he knew I did not bluff. "Calm, Uther. If you'll put down the knife, I'll explain. Duke Gorlois had nothing to do with this." "Maybe he did or didn't, but I need to kill something ...and he's so handy." "Do it," Gorlois said. "When I took you from the enchanted lake, when your memory was gone, at least I could fool myself into believing you were still she. But now, with memory restored, I see she is truly gone. I've nothing to live for, so if it makes you feel better, kill me." I looked in his eyes; he meant it, he longed for death. How much he must have loved Ygrayne. How hard it must be for him to look at my body and know I am not she... ... yet, an image flashed in my mind, of me, in this body, and a young Gorlois, in a rose garden. He'd fallen into a bush, and I laughed at him... Where did that come from? I lowered the knife from his throat, and shook my head. Yet my anger still blazed, at the ...crime ...done to me, stealing my body, my life, my kingdom. Someone. Must. Die. If not Duke Gorlois, then Myrddin. That would feel much better. I charged the mage, blade raised to strike. His hands flew up. "Uther, let me tell the why and how of this. After I finish, if you still wish to kill me, I won't stop you." I managed to restrain myself from skewering the rainbow-robed man, though it wasn't easy. "Speak." He clasped his hands behind his robes and lowered his white head. "Do you remember your battle with Leodegrance?" I nodded. "It was he that led the last faction against your united rule, and you defeated him on the plain before Cameliard. Even in defeat, the stubborn fool wouldn't yield to your kingship. Instead, he stretched his neck before you and Caledfwlch. All we'd work for was within reach, a united Logres to fight the Saxon invasion! Yet, instead of lopping off his head, you spared his life!" "Of course. He's a good man, if misguided. Even had I wanted to kill him -which I didn't- Caledfwlch would not have allowed it. Myrddin's furrowed his white eyebrows. "But in battle Caledfwlch never worried whether the foe was good or bad-" "In battle, Caledfwlch is thirsty for blood, but we were not 'in battle,' Leo's neck was before me. It was an execution, and there, Caledfwlch becomes a sword of justice. If I were to have tried to wield the sword against a just man, Caledfwlch would have turned instead on me." Myrddin looked at me with blinking eyes. "Yes, that explains all! If only I'd known that before! Why didn't tell me this at the time?" "The bond between Caledfwlch and bearer is private, mage, and why should I have to? As king I spared Leo's life; must I inform you of every act I take? Hmm ...how would that go, mage? 'Myrddin, this is to inform you I've just taken a crap, and I am now going to wipe my ass.'" "Blast! You're analogies were ever out of proportion! Sparing his life was not 'wiping your ass!' He was our last obstacle; we were never so close to one Logres as then!" I stepped close and raised my knife tip to his neck. My voice purred when I spoke, and the thought came to me of how very un-Uther I sounded: "You are still not explaining why I am in this 'sweet' body, mage, nor why I should let you live, hmm?" He gulped. "My life's work has been devoted to turning back the Saxon invaders and we were so close, Uther..." That was truth; Myrddin told all who would listen that if left unchecked, the Saxons would drive our people to extinction. With a united Logres, we could push them back, gaining space and time. "...and I thought, your failure to kill him was a fatal character flaw. I believed at that moment, all rested in the balance, and if I acted quickly we could still eliminate Leodegrance and forge one Logres. Myrddin began to pace back and forth. "I gazed into my scrying bowl, and it showed a wondrous vision, of Lady Ygrayne, holding Caledfwlch aloft, surrounded by flame, with the kings and lords of Logres bowing down." "You've lost me, mage, what has that to do..." I motioned to my body, before putting my hand back to my hip, "...with this?" "Caledfwlch responds to your hand, yet I thought your spirit flawed. The gods showed me a spirit that was strong. One to unite and lead. So, using all the magic I possessed..." "You switched us?" He nodded. My knife clattered to the floor. "That has to be ...the most idiotic thing I've ever heard!" "Over the desperate years that have followed, I've learned ...you are right." *** Myrddin told me all then, of how at the feast of the Cameliard victory he'd drugged my mead with a powerful potion of forgetting, wiping every memory from my mind. Duke Gorlois was away fighting a boarder skirmish on his lands when Myrddin approached Ygrayne with his request, and she, thinking the great mage spoke the truth of the gods, agreed to the switch for the good of Logres. Then, against the dire warning of the Priestess Nimue, Myrddin invoked the Druids' most powerful magic, the Serpent's Breath, to switch my soul with Ygrayne's. To test his success, he had the new 'Uther' grasp Caledfwlch, which flared less brightly in his hand. Myrddin convinced himself the sword would grow bright again over time, and had Nimue take me away. Then he and the new 'Uther' chased down Leodegrance to finish what I would not. There, they learned the truth of my words - not only did Caledfwlch refuse to deliver the deathblow, but worse, it struck 'Uther' down in a blaze of fire. What tragedies good intentions bring! Poor Gorlois and Ygrayne! Their tale of sorrow will be the stuff of songs. I hoped the bards and historians would get this story right. I looked to Gorlois; he sat now in a wooden chair, with shoulders slumped and eyes dulled. He looked so worn and wounded. A feeling rose in me like ...heat? And an image passed in my mind, of bright-eyed Gorlois, kneeling before me, face full of hope and snow flakes falling from above ...onto his golden hair. And for a moment, I wanted to take his hand, and... "Why do you torture me? You look at me as my Ygrayne did! Yet she is dead, dead!" Where had this memory come from? It struck me, from Caledfwlch! Though Ygrayne only held the sword briefly, it captured her memories also, and now they were in me. "I ...I'm sorry, Duke, I..." I fought to bring my thoughts back to Myrddin's story, but even as I did, I flicked my black hair back as she would have done. Who was I? Uther? Ygrayne? Who was I? I shook my head. "And so, mage, having made chaos of all, why have you brought me here?" "Because Octha, son of Hengist, masses his heathen Saxons hordes to overrun Logres, Uther, they are a dam about to burst. Our people need a hero to lead them, one to wield great Caledfwlch. Our last and only hope." "You would ...have me lead them?" My voice sounded high. "Yes and no, Uther. Forgive me, sire, I would give my life to undo what I have done, for I see now, more than ever, your strong arm of old and great heart would rally our people. Yet you cannot as you are." Myrddin smiled sadly at me. I never felt so small as this moment. "What then? Tell me how to save my people and I will do it!" He put his hand on my shoulder. "Caledfwlch is still tuned to your soul, I have proven it. It blazes for you! So this morning, on the grassy plain before Tintagel, you will choose a new leader, and pass the sword along, to the one leader that can unite us all. You must give the sword to King Lot of the Orkney Isles." "If you think it will work, then I must try" "And I will help," Gorlois said, and I couldn't decide whether his face looked more sad or grim. "Having brought her this far, I will see this through. My Ygrayne died trying to save her people, I will not have her death be in vain. And then, may the gods grant me a glorious death on a Saxon warrior's sword." "Let us pray the gods do not grant your wish to all of us," Myrddin answered. *** Dawn neared; and not far away, at the mouth of the river Glein, Octha massed his army. Heedless, Logres' knights and lords and kings gathered on Tintagel's grassy commons, to squabble and quarrel and resolve nothing. Thick fog and predawn light muted the greens and browns of the flat field, and a loamy fragrance of turf, gorse and primrose drifted with the fog. Myrddin gave us hooded gray robes to cover our clothes, and we walked through the bickering crowds unseen, blending with the mist. The mage held one of my arms and Gorlois the other as they guided me through the throng. I heard the rasp of Myrddin's voice in my ear, "Remember, Uther, wait, until all Kings are gathered before you give Caledfwlch to Lot." I suppose I nodded to him, I don't know, my eyes were drawn to my old comrades, allies, and a few of my enemies. It seemed only yesterday I'd last seen them, but they're all- "-old!" I whispered to him. "Everyone's aged, Myrddin, why?" "Time passes differently in the blessed lands, Uther. It's been thirteen winters since you were taken there." I stopped so abruptly that Gorlois bumped into me. Thirteen? How could that be? But it must be so, because there stood King Uriens of Reged with his many warriors. Before, he'd been tall with cheerful countenance, but now he was bent and his face sagged. Over there, King Mark. When last I'd seen him, he'd just sent his captain and nephew Tristan to fetch some ?ire lass named Iseult to be his bride. I remembered Mark's pointed black beard made him crafty and lively. It was thin now and gray and sadness around wrapped around him like a cloak. And look, under a stand of crab apple trees, was King Leodegrance of Cameliard, white haired now, but eyes as clear as ever. With him was a young golden-headed woman; fair skinned, a white Mayflower. Surely this wasn't a new wife for Leo, for he'd sworn to the gods that after Duella, he'd never wed again. So that would make her ...his daughter? The last time I'd seen her, she was barely walking. What was her name ... 'Gwen' something? Oh, that one will turn lads' heads. Farther on was King Lot of Orkney, surrounded by warriors bearing the Orkney double eagle standard. He was portly now, but still strong as an ox. I saw why Myrddin had chosen him. Last, I saw a group of my warriors, the strongest of the strong: Brastias, Baudwin, and Owain. They had aged too, but I was so glad to see them, my blood brothers who put their lives in my hands, and I put mine in theirs. I wanted to run to clasp their arms and slap their shoulders. I tasted bile when I realized I'd never do this again. But where were Connla, Urien and Ector? Had they journeyed to the next life? Ah, but thank the Goddess, farther and to the right stood stout Ector; a bit frostier, yes, but very much alive. Good old Ector. With him were two beardless men; one a younger copy of Ector, thick armed and broad chested. He was Cai, who had ridden with me from the lake. The other, was tall, lanky with hair the same red as my late wife Lynette ...and there was something about him that was... "He is Arthur, your son," Myrddin said gently. Arthur. My son. I stopped; I could not walk. I could not breathe. My son. Arthur! He was, what, two or three the last time I saw him, and look at him! A young man! I'd never spent time with him; when my Lynette died giving birthing to him, I put blame on him for it and would not look on him his first year. By the time good sense returned, I was on the move, wrestling with the other Kings of Logres to unite them under my banner, fighting the Saxons and the Picts. Fighting, always fighting, never there for him. I felt wetness on my cheeks; when had I started weeping? The tears flowed and my heart was heavy, for all the years I'd missed with him, all the magic moments between father and son. I wanted to fly to him, but what was I now? His mother? What was I? Myrddin's urgent hiss pulled me from my grief and turned my attention to the matter at hand, the fate of Logres. "Uther, they are gathered!" He handed me Caledfwlch. "Throw off your robe, draw the sword, and in the light of it's mystic blaze, bestow it on Lot. All will bow to him, and we may at last turn to defending our land and lives." A thought came to me as I dropped the robe to ground; Myrddin was ever a brilliant strategist, but never a tactician. The place for high drama was not here on flat ground, but over there, on a rocky outcrop. An adjustment to the plan was needed, and as any great king would, I acted, I pulled from the grasp of Gorlois and the mage and ran to the boulders in my dress as fast as I could. "Uther! Come back," Myrddin called behind me, but he did not catch me. Rock climbing in a pure white samite dress is not the brightest idea, but I did my best to keep it clean. Reaching the top of the highest rock, I heaved the mighty sword from its scabbard and raised it over my head. Fire exploded from the blade, a beacon light. I held it high and my people ran to me, wide-eyed, they came, with hope filled faces they came; dozens, then hundreds surrounded the rocky outcrop, more. They shouted "the Sword!" and "Fair One!" and yet a few yelled "Lady of the Lake!" What a sight it must have been: next to me, the mysterious rainbow robed wizard Myrddin had climbed, wringing his hands now, and I, clothed in pure white samite, mist swirling about my body, and over my head the shining sword Caledfwlch! Fire curled down from the sword into my hand, my arm, my body, until I glowed. Some thought, by magic traveled through their minds, for as one, they knelt before me, before the great flaming sword. Ah Caledfwlch! It sings to my soul! With this sword, I defeated the giants of Cawrnur. With this sword, I overthrew Paschent and his men. Outnumbered, we fought into dark of night, and Caledfwlch showed the way. With this sword, I linked to the land, this Logres. This was power. This was kingship. I loved this sword. Now, Caledfwlch was moving on, it told me so. Tuned to my soul these many years, it was ready for another; time for me to say goodbye. Myrddin's scheme was fair, but the Sword had a far far better plan; it told me exactly what to do. Turning it over, I drove the blade of light down, into the stone before me. Sparks sprayed as Caledfwlch dug deep into the rock. It was hard to let go of Caledfwlch's dragon gold hilt, so hard; I was leaving a piece of myself with that great brand. I willed my hand to release, finger by finger; a battle as hard as any I'd fought. When at last I looked up, I saw their eyes, thousands, waiting. I had no idea what to say, but the sword did. I opened my mouth, and words spilled out, echoing on the plain: "Whosoever pulls Caledfwlch from this stone is rightwise High King of Logres." *** One by one they tried, Uriens, Mark, Leo, Lot, all. Heaving, pulling, grunting, yanking, cursing, praying. None could budge the sword from the rock I'd lodged it in. Until, at last, it was my Arthur's turn. And, grasping the hilt, he pulled, and it slid, easily, up, out, and flared bright in his hand. Stunned, he raised it over his head, and many fell to the ground before him. Lot didn't; he tried to stem the tide that rose in Arthur's favor, shouting, "Wizard's trick! Witch's trick! This one cannot lead us, he is but a boy, and not of noble lineage! Ector, reign in your cur. Let reason prevail, not magic tricks." Ector, good Ector, stepped forward. "Hold, King Lot, the truth of it is, Arthur is not my son. Upon good king Uther's death, Myrddin brought the lad to me, saying 'this is Uther's heir; raise him as your own.'" Leo crowded in front of Arthur. "I have often mused on how much you resemble our dead king Uther. Long have I regretted my failure to recognize his rule, and my part in his death. I will not repeat the same mistake with his son." He dropped to one knee. "You are my High King." Leo's words awakened something in Arthur, for his uncertainty vanished and light shown on his face. He spoke: "Any man who would be a knight and follow a king... follow me." As one, knights and lords and kings, and even Lot, jumped to their feet and raised their swords, cheering "Arthur, King! Arthur, King!" His words were so simple, yet he moved them as I never could. As Uther, I would have droned long about the 'Saxon peril' and the 'heathen danger'. He said 'follow me.' "It is Arthur," Myrddin said a golden light surrounding his head, his voice echoing across the plain. "He is the one." I was so proud. All was commotion and planning then; the last of my warriors, Ector, Brastias, Baudwin, and Owain gathered round him and soon battle plans were being hatched. With courage, planning, a crafty mage, and Arthur wielding Caledfwlch, they had a real chance to defeat Octa. Numbness fell on me then, maybe all was finally catching up to me, the return of my memories, the loss of my old life, all. And something - intuition maybe?- told me my part in this story was over. "Now is the time of battle, Myrddin," I whispered, "and I am out of place." He nodded his head. "Put back on the gray robes, it is time for the Lady of the Lake to dramatically 'disappear.' I will ask Gorlois to take you back your valley. Yet ..." Myrddin looked at me, oddly then; understanding dawning on his face. "It was you I saw in my vision, Uther! The gods showed me your face uniting our land, not Ygrayne! You, as a woman, raising Caledfwlch! So ...was I fool? Or was this meant to be? What tricks the gods play on us." He bowed his head. "There is a great debt between us. Tell me, what may I do to repay you?" "Counsel my son, mage, guide him, protect him, show him the way to save our people, love him-" He nodded. "With all my heart." "-and, come to see Nimue, and soon. She misses you so." He smiled. "That debt I will gladly pay, for now I can; at last, our people have hope. All thanks to you..." He knelt down before me, "...Uther. My King." "No ...no, don't call me that ...I'm just a shepherd girl ...who wants to go home." *** Though Gorlois wished for death in battle, something moved him to agree to take me back. Perhaps he wanted to be with the image of his Ygrayne yet awhile before he died, I didn't know. I might have learned more of him if I had called on her memories in my, but I was scared to, scared of losing myself in them. Yet wasn't I already lost? I was not Uther and I was not Ygrayne. Who was I? So we rode in awkward silence again, over cool hills and through bright autumn trees, until we came to the wall of gray mist. My pendant flared blue, and we rode once more through the worlds, and to the blessed lands. We were met by eight robed and hooded women after we crossed over. The woman in front of the others pushed back her hood - it was Argante. I was so glad to see her. Her hazel hair fluttered behind her, yet I felt no wind. I saw her irises were focused, her lips were pressed tightly together, and her silver circlet glowed blue on her head. Uh-oh. "By what right do you come to this blessed land?" "What are you talking about? I live with you." What was going on? "Nimue brought you over, and you lived among us as her guest." "Okay, so couldn't I be your guest again? And Gorlois also?" I'd been through so much already, why did I have to deal with this too? "Only a Sister may bring guests here from the mortal lands; are you a Sister? If you are not, then you must leave." It was the Challenge: to be a Sister in this place, you had to turn water into the water of life, something I'd never been able to do. "Argante, please! It's me-" "Only a Sister may bring others here from the mortal lands; are you a Sister? If you are not, then you must leave." I knew I couldn't change the water; before I had my memories restored, I was an innocent here, and I hadn't been able to. How could I, now that I remembered all my failings? Remembering all the darkness I'd seen as Uther? I sighed. "I guess I must at least try." Another woman -I saw a flash of red hair beneath her hood, was it Nim?- handed Argante a small silver cup, who in turn handed it to me. "Begin." "Argante, if I can't, what will hap-" "Begin! Or leave." I looked into it, and remembered the dozens - or was it hundreds - of times I tried. Praying to the Goddess to change the water; falling to my knees and begging Her, if only she'd change it, I'd worship Her forever, I'd build a great altar to Her, anything. Nothing had worked. I turned to Gorlois; the loss of his Ygrayne was chiseled on his face, his lonely years of despair. I who occupied Ygrayne body, what could I do for him? From her memories, I felt the depth of their love, it was dizzying. His soul bled from her death still, and cried out for healing. And I ...I found wanted to help him find it. I saw my reflection in the water. It was my face, even if I was not born with it. Mine, because my pain written on it; from the loss of my Lynette, that I'd locked away, buried, pretending it didn't exist. Pain from the loss of Arthur too, though he was alive and beginning his reign. Pain because I hadn't been there when he needed me, having to grow without mother and father. I'd give anything to be able to go back in time, just to be with them; just to tell them ... I loved them. I know I'd said it to Lynette, when we were handfasted, but why hadn't I said it more? Every day? Every chance I got? Why? And to Arthur, my son... Something inside me broke; my body shook, and when I looked up from the cup, all was blurry from tears. Around me, I sensed ...I could feel ...pain and hurt...from Argante, from Nimue, from all the sisters. Each held their own wounds... and I wished ... the world was not filled with suffering ...I wished ...I could help ease their suffering... I wished... My hand holding the cup must have been shaking, because Argante gently took it from me. "Witness, Sisters." She raised the cup above her head, then poured a splash on the ground in front of her. And where the drops fell, flowers, of all the hues in the rainbow, sprang and bloomed, sending incense on the wind. Argante handed the cup to one of the women, then leaped to give me a bear hug. "I knew you'd do it, Yggy, I knew it," she squealed in my ear. "The times before, how could you? You'd no memory of suffering. Now... "So much in the world, Argante ...so much," I said. "The mortal world grows colder and we cannot heal all. Yet we can do much good, before the way between closes. We give to men the water of life, and with it, ease their pain. And when the way closes, we'll aid them still, we'll send our healing in dreams." "I want to help ...I want to ..." "You will Yggy ...or ...how are you called now, child?" I knew what she asked; who was I? From Caledfwlch I received Ygrayne's memories, the memories of this body, and they felt like mine. Yet, I was named Pendragon by my birth parents; my hard-earned memories were as Uther. So who was I? I looked into my heart with honest eyes. When I spoke, the certainty in my voice surprised me: "I am Ygrayne of Avalon." I was; a new Ygrayne, born from the marriage of the memories of Uther Pendragon and Ygrayne of Cernyw. With her arm around my waste, Argante turned me so I faced the robed women. Her grin was wide. "Women of Avalon, as High Priestess, I declare a feast day, for Ygrayne ...our Sister ... has come home." *** As Uther, I'd suffered through more 'feasts' than a king ought; every vassal I visited felt duty bound to slaughter the prize pig and push the eldest daughter into my bed. Many's the time I swore they'd mixed those up. This feast was like none of those; let me tell you of it. I'll start with the feast table the Goddess set. We made a bonfire on the lakeshore; under a night sky of waning moon and stars ...I really can't begin to describe their beauty. In my campaigns against the Scoti and the blue-painted Picts, I'd slept many nights under starry skies, but this night ...if I could have taken all the pebbles on our lake's shore, turned them into shimmering stars and thrown them into the dark above, it wouldn't have been half as many as sparkled down. It dizzied me to look at them. Next I'll tell you of the feast table my sisters set. Our long oaken tables were brought from the dining hall; white candles in silver candle sticks flickered yellow light on the holly berries center piece. Dishes of roasted apples, fresh baked bread, young spring peas, goat cheese and smoked fish covered the table, and best of all, pitchers of the apple wine that Avalon was so famous for were passed around, and no one's drinking chalices were allowed to empty. I took a moment to raise my chalice to the crescent moon; I was beginning to sense the path I traveled, subtly guided by She of the moon and stars. Okay, not so subtle; everything that had happened to me was a clubbing, Her way of getting my attention. I suppose She had to do that to an old warrior who couldn't think past sword tip - and yeah, sword has a double meaning here, though I don't have *that* kind of sword anymore. "I get it, okay?" I said, still looking up. When I looked down, I noticed flickering lights on the far shore across the lake, lights I'd never seen before. I squinted my eyes to try to make them out. "You see them now, don't you," Argante said, suddenly beside me. I nodded. "What are they?" "The next step on the journey. As you progress, they become brighter; for me they are bright indeed," Argante said, and I could see bright light reflecting in her eyes. "Someday soon, a crystal boat will come ashore to take me across, and Nimue becomes High Priestess in my place." Just when I think I've reached the summit, when I get to the top, I find higher and higher mountains in the distance. I sighed. I have much to learn. I was happy for Argante, but sad I'd be losing her. She read my mind. "Stop it, Ygrayne; no sorrow tonight, that's an order. You will have me long enough for your tastes, because, as the newest priestess, you get the fun chores." Uh-oh. From my military days, I knew that meant something like 'latrine duty.' Argante had the broadest grin on her face I'd ever seen. "Since you're not a guest anymore, I'll show you what I really thought about you pushing me into the lake." Vivian appeared by her side, wearing a wide grin as well, and bearing a white initiate's robe in her hands. "I wanted to help you put this on, Ygrayne, as a good sister should. Welcome to the bottom rung," Viv said, and they laughed. I did too, I mean, why not? "You forget my history, Sisters, I've been here before, I was a squire in King Lud's army as a lad. One of his knights, Sir Aengus, thought it hilarious to give me the 'crappiest' of tasks to perform. But wouldn't ya know? One night, the latrine seat broke while Sir Aengus sat on it, and he fell ...in. What were the chances of that happening?" I smiled, trying my hardest to look innocent. Vivian turned as white as the robe she'd placed on me. "You. wouldn't. dare." Argante laughed even harder, but then her face grew soft. "Look how your guest, Gorlois, stands alone, wrapped in his pain. Go to him, Yggy, bring him our healing." I looked for him, but spied mage Myrddin walking toward us instead; when had the Druid crossed over? He had come for our feast? "Myrddin! What of the battle? Why aren't you with Arthur-" "Uther ...Ygrayne-" "We call her Yggy," Nim said, suddenly beside me. "Yggy? Truly? The great High King Uther Pendragon is now 'Yggy'?" His laughter echoed across the lake. "MAGE! Tell me what has-" He held a hand up. "Remember, 'Yggy,' hours that pass here are days in Logres. The battle has already been fought and Arthur drove Octa back. There will be more battles, but Arthur won!" I felt every tension flow from me and I hugged the mage tightly. "Hey! Back off, novice priestess, he's mine," Nim said. I laughed and moved away to let Nim cut in. How different this Myrddin looked, twenty years younger! And he couldn't take his hands off Nim, not that she minded in the least. She mouthed a 'thank you' to me, and I mouthed 'you owe me' back. Nim rolled her eyes, and then motioned with her head. I followed the motion and saw Duke Gorlois, standing apart on the lake shore, his eyes staring into the dark water. Nim motioned again; I nodded, took a deep breath, and walked to him. He saw me approaching. "You needn't be concerned for me ...Ygrayne or Uther or whoever you are. I'll not burden this sacred place with my foul soul; I leave in the morning..." "Why? Why not stay? You are welcome to stay as a guest, and there is healing here for you, and..." I paused, I had to, for what I was about to say was hard. I'd always been on the other side of this fence. "...and, well, I'd like you to stay." His eyes narrowed and his cheeks reddened, "Do not pity me; you owe me nothing! You were not to blame for what happened, I can even forgive Myrddin, well meaning as he was. But you are not she whom I loved. Yet you make it all the more painful, standing in her body, using her lips to tell me to stay, telling me out of pity!" Gods he was a stubborn man! Surely, I was never this way! But I did ...er ...recall, Lynette saying once or twice, that I was more contrary than a goat. "Ygrayne, your Ygrayne, would want you to stay, to find happiness-" "Never speak on her behalf, you haven't the right!" He fell to his knees, and began beating his chest with his fists. "What do you know of her? What do you know of our love?" I knelt beside him; stopping his fists, holding them in my hands. I'd been scared to look deeply into Ygrayne's memories, but now, I closed my eyes and dove in. "I know ...you and she ...met ...in her father's rose garden in Cernyw ...it was late spring; the evening was cool. You were walking with my ...her, father ...your own had passed on ...you were new to your dukedom, and you wanted his advice ...and when you saw ...me, you tripped, falling into a rosebush..." Ygrayne had laughed when he did, and now I laughed again. "When she ran to you, you were scratched and bleeding, yet you smiled, asking if Ygrayne ...if I ...had large thorns, since I was the prettiest rose of all. And even though it was a clich?d thing to say, I loved you from that moment." I could feel it, my heart expanded, my whole body flushed warm, and I couldn't stop smiling ...it felt ...like my love for Lynette reborn. His voice was a whisper. "How do you know these things?" "These lips answered you, when you knelt one-kneed before me after the winter solstice ball, the snow flakes covering your golden hair..." I didn't have to try, the thoughts just flowed now, and I moved close to his face. My eyes had tears again; it seems I now do this often. "...you said, 'marry me, Ygrayne,' and I did this..." I didn't think about who I'd been or what I was doing; I pressed my lips to his and kissed him. I leaned back on my knees. "Are you sure I don't know? Are you sure all you loved is dead?" I could feel the thoughts whirling in his head. "What miracle is this? Could it be? Yet so much has happened ...how would we... what would we ..." I shrugged. "Hey, I'm new at this too! Maybe, if you weren't in such a rush to leave, we could, well, start over again? Work through it together?" He was silent for a long moment, then slowly, his mouth turned up in a smile, his first in years. "How would we do that ...Ygrayne?" If someone had told me I would say these next words when I was Uther, I'd have split him in half with Caledfwlch. Yet now... "Well, for starters," I looked down and ran a hand through the soft green grass, "you could tell me more of the differences between rams and ewes." When I peeked up at him, he was grinning a particular way, a look I knew well when as Uther, I'd given it to Lynette. Ditto for the hardness in his pants. *** Years have passed since my return here. I think my love for Gorlois makes my heart grow bigger; every day, when I think I've given him all the love I have, I find I've more to give. Funny that. Life goes on. My heart was torn in two directions when Argante made her crossing, thrilled for her, but so sad at the parting. She said it was not goodbye forever, and the first thing she'd do when I made my crossing was give me a dunking. Nim wears the robe of purple and silver and I mid-level blue. A new initiate now wears the white, and she's gets the 'fun chores', thank the Goddess. The lights across the lake grow brighter to me, and in my dreams I've begun to hear their call. When my time comes, I don't know how I'll bear leaving Gorlois ...I don't ...I can't... Myrddin trains my love in druid ways, and when my crossing comes, will take Gorlois to the Isle of Angsley, where a druid order of men survives in secret. That gives me comfort, but still... but still... Nim consoles me too; she says if there is anything my life story should teach, it's that nothing is forever and nothing is impossible. She says, as we draw closer to the Goddess, we find all we've ever loved alive in Her. She's says, there I'll be united forever with my Gorlois, and my Lynette, Arthur and Argante and even she, Nim, will be there, waiting to race me on horses that run fast as thought. I pray she is right; I'd believe her more if I didn't find her alone sometimes on the lakeshore, with tear marks down her face. She has less time with her love than I have with mine. When I find her like this, we don't speak, I hug her tight and we rest our foreheads together. Take heart, please, I didn't mean this ending to be of sad partings but of joyful reunions, for I'm bringing my Arthur here! Last night I dreamed of Caledfwlch. It told me it was ready to move on from Arthur, so the time of his last battle must be here. I travel one last time to mortal lands, for my son. I've visited Logres to see him over the years. Argante predicted when I traveled there, I would ease people's pain with the water of life, and she was right, I could not help myself. I brought them healing from sickness and suffering, and it felt wonderful to give to my people. When I heal them, the folk think the cure comes from the cup I use. Apparently my cup has become a big deal, with a group of Arthur's knights vowing to hunt, or track the cup or something. I'll have to watch out for them. I've longed to bring Arthur here; he's fought so hard to hold back the darkness, I'm proud beyond words. The world has broken him, as it does all its saviors; he needs a father's hand up and a mother's kiss. I'll give him both! I'll pester and dote on him and he'll heal in this blessed land, this Avalon, my home. And ...did I mention who our new initiate was? Gwenwyfar. Um-hm, which should keep him busy. And if he tires of his Gwenwyfar, then, well, he can just take up fishing. I mean, hey, we have this lake... *** Author's note: Arthur's words are taken from John Boorman's movie, 'Excalibur.'