Arthur pc-3 Read online

  Feeling the light on my eyes, I turned towards it and the grey cloudlike mist separated – darkness below, and light, thin but perceptible, above.

  At the same moment, I became heavier; my limbs grew wooden and stiff. I began to fall back, plummeting down towards that sharp rockscape somewhere far below me. And, though I knew myself to be dreaming, it came into my mind that if I allowed myself to fall onto the cruel rocks, I would surely be crushed and killed.

  I fought against the downward pull, flinging my arms and kicking my legs as if in swimming. I sank more quickly. The thought of the terrible rocks rushing up to meet me roused me to fury. I fought on, with all the strength I had.

  I fell faster. My limbs began to ache with the effort and I knew I would not be able to continue much longer, but set my teeth, vowing to go on swimming and swimming until my muscles knotted up and I could no longer move.

  On and on I went, struggling, striving, falling back and back. After what seemed an eternity I came at last to the end of my strength…

  But, instead of falling, I felt myself rising.

  I looked and saw that while I struggled the light had become brighter. Indeed, it was as if my feeble efforts had increased the light somehow. Inexplicably, I was being drawn upward by the light I had helped to magnify; the selfsame light that I helped generate was now saving me.

  Very soon I came to a place where the light shone bright and unhindered. It was dazzling white, like the radiance of the morning sun on fresh snow. And, shielding my eyes with my hands, I looked back the way I had come and saw that I had not flown at all, nor struggled half so much as it seemed. For the light revealed a smooth, unbroken pathway along which I had been led… step by careful step.

  And it came to me that this is how the spirit travels towards God: beginning its journey in darkness, setting off in danger and confusion, and struggling upward into the ever present light which draws it and upholds it always…

  NINE

  I awoke to a stream of sunlight in my room. I rose instantly. How long had I slept? It was daylight already!

  But, even as the thought came into my head, the light faded, pearling to dawn. It was early yet.

  I rose and hurried to Merlin's room, where I found Elfodd dozing lightly in his chair beside the bed. He started when I entered the room; he had not been asleep after all, merely bowed hi prayer.

  'How is he?' I asked.

  'The same,' the abbot told me. 'There has been no change.'

  'I am here,' I said. 'I will watch with him now.'

  He hesitated, reaching over to touch Merlin's hand. 'I will remain a little longer.'

  'You have done your part, Elfodd,' I insisted gently. 'I am ready to do mine.'

  The good abbot yawned and rose stiffly from the chair, pressing his hands to the small of his back. 'Very well, I will sleep a little,' he said as he moved away, 'that I may serve him the better.'

  Chads appeared but a moment after Elfodd had gone. 'Oh,' she said softly, the glint of hope dying in her eyes as she beheld her son, 'I had hoped to see him awake.'

  'So had I, my lady,' I replied. 'I had hoped to see the enchantment broken.'

  Without another word, we began our vigil together.

  For three days Merlin lay asleep under the wicked spell. We prayed, we read psalms to him, we invoked the protection of the Most High, we bathed him, anointed him, we spoke to him, filling his heart and ours with words of encouragement.

  All the time he hung between life and death in that trance-like stupor. Whatever our fears, we did not allow them in the room with him, but put them off upon entering into his presence. In this way, he was surrounded always with hope and healing prayers.

  On the evening of the third day, Elfodd returned from the abbey, where he had retired at daybreak, and brought with him twelve of his dearest, most blessed and holy brothers. They were men of solid faith, bold in belief, and wise to the wiles of the enemy. They had come from chapels, abbeys and monasteries both near and far – for word had gone out that Merlin had fallen under an enchantment and lay near death.

  Avallach, pale and grim, received them solemnly in his hall and gave them bread, meat and wine to restore their strength for the work ahead.

  Then Elfodd led them to Merlin's chamber where Charis waited. She saw the holy men and, thinking they had come to perform the rites for the dying, buried her face in her hands.

  'Peace, sister,' Elfodd said, 'think not the worst. Rather take hope. For these men have come to help us. We contend not with flesh and blood. As our adversary is mighty, we must be mighty, too.

  'It is three days, Charis, and we have not been able to loosen the evil enchantment's hold. Therefore I have summoned these good brothers to lend their aid to our struggle.'

  Tears in her eyes, Charis nodded.

  'Go you now,' Elfodd said, 'rest a little. Return when you have refreshed yourself.' The abbot motioned for me to accompany her.

  'I will go with you, my lady,' I offered. 'Come.'

  Taking her arm, I led her unresisting from the room. I saw her to her chamber and then went to the kitchens to request food to be brought to her. I returned to sit with her while she ate, and to see that she slept.

  When the food arrived she glanced at the bowl and pushed it aside. I pushed it back before her, saying, 'You must eat something.' It hurt me to see her suffering so. 'It will not help him to weaken yourself- eat.'

  Reluctantly, she picked up the wooden bowl and began stirring the stew with her spoon, then lifted the spoon to her mouth, chewed and swallowed. I do not think she tasted a bite, but that did not matter. One spoonful led to another, and another, and soon she replaced the bowl, empty.

  Charis rose and smiled thinly. 'I feel a little better. Thank you, Pelleas. I will sleep now.' She turned to her bed.

  'I will leave you to your rest,' I said, moving to the door, 'and I will look in on you after a little.'

  'Please, take no heed of me. I would have you stay with Merlin.'

  I returned at once to Merlin's chamber, where the holy brothers knelt side by side as Abbot Elfodd moved from one to the other with a chalice of wine and blessed bread, offering each man the sacrament of holy communion. When the last had been served, he came to me. I knelt down and received the bread and wine from his hand.

  Then the twelve rose and went to Merlin's bed, which they lifted and moved to the centre of the room. Each man took up a candle from one of the many Charis kept burning in the room, and Elfodd passed among them, giving each one a censer to be lit from the candle. Candle in one hand and censer in the other, the brothers took up places around the bed, forming a ring. They knelt and bowed their heads, some moved their lips silently. Smoke from the sweet incense now filled the room, rising up in curling tendrils in the still air. I took up a place by the door, ready should the good brothers require anything.

  After a few moments, Abbot Elfodd began speaking a prayer in Latin, and one by one the other holy men joined him. I know the scholar's tongue not at all well, but I gleaned from a phrase or two here and there that it was a strong petition for the All Mighty to show his power in the saving of his servant.

  As I listened, it became clear that the prayer was actually a plea of sacrifice: each man offering to take Merlin's place, if Merlin could be freed from his sleep of death.

  I marvelled at their faith. Every man among them was prepared to lay down his life for Merlin. Moved by their love, I sank to my knees by the door and, stretching myself out on the floor, began repeating the essence of their prayer in my heart: Great Light, I give myself to you for the sake of my brother. Restore him, I pray; and if it is that a life for a life is required, please take mine.

  This I prayed over and over again until it became a litany, flowing up from the depths of my soul to spread like a fragrant balm before the throne of Jesu.

  I do not know how long I lay like this. I was not aware of the passage of time, or of anything else. It was as if the world of men had ceased to exist, and I felt t
he innumerable ties that bind the soul loosen and fall away until I was completely free. There remained only the voices of the monks, the sweetness of the incense, and the prayer in my heart.

  Gradually, I sensed a subtle shifting in the light around me. I smelled hot wax and thought that the candles must be burning out. I raised my head and, at the same time, heard a sound like that of a harp when it sings of itself – as when the wind brings forth mysterious music.

  The air stirred softly, as with the light stirring of feathered wings. I felt it cool on my face, and tasted honey on my tongue. I inhaled a fragrance surpassing in sweetness any I have ever known.

  In the same moment, there appeared a maiden dressed in a flowing white garment. Tall and most wonderfully fair, with hair the colour of pure sunlight, and skin pale as milk. Her eyes were like finest jade, deep and green, and her lips were the colour of ripe berries. On her high and noble brow she wore a circlet of gold discs which shone each one like a golden sun. Around her slender waist she wore a girdle of bright golden discs.

  I do not remember whether the door opened to admit her – it must have – and yet, it seems to me that she just appeared in our midst.

  In her hands this wondrous vision held a silver tray which bore a vessel covered with a cloth of white silk, thin and light as a cloud. And from beneath the silken cover, this vessel shone with a clear and steady light.

  Without word or glance, the maiden approached the place where Merlin lay. The good brothers and Abbot Elfodd fell back amazed; some crossed themselves with the holy sign, others knelt down and bowed their heads low.

  I lay as one struck a stunning blow, staring at the maiden: to take my sight from her would have been to pluck the very eyes from my head. I could not breathe for feeling such awe and wonder. I thought my heart must burst. Sweet Jesu, I have never felt anything so fine and terrible in all my life!

  She stood at the bedside, looking down upon the sleeping, dying Merlin with a look of infinite compassion. And then softly she spoke – her words were the hush of snowflakes falling to earth.

  She said, 'Merlin, your sleep is ended. Wake you now, fair friend, your work is not yet finished.'

  At these words, the maiden lifted her hand and withdrew the cloth from the vessel on the tray. Instantly, the vessel shone forth with the brightness of the noontide sun, casting a dazzling light all around. I could not bear it, and threw my hands over my eyes.

  When I dared look again, the light had gone; the vessel was covered once more. The lady smiled and touched Merlin lightly on the forehead with her hand. 'Arise,' she told him, 'you are restored.'

  In that selfsame moment there came a great uproar from outside the palace – the commotion of the driven wind when the storm passes. The palace was buffeted; somewhere a door slammed to sunder its hinges. And, above the wind, I heard a wailing cry like that of a wounded beast when the hunter's lance is driven into its breast; but thin and high and bloodless – it was no earth-spawned thing.

  Merlin, pale and gaunt in his bed, opened his eyes and lifted his shoulders.

  Free from the evil enchantment that bound him, my master gazed at those gathered around him in uncomprehending surprise. Then, as understanding grew, he lowered his face into his hands and wept.

  TEN

  With a shout of joy we all rushed to him. Merlin is restored! The spell is broken! Glory to our Great Redeemer! Merlin is alive! Our praise rang from the rooftrees, and echoed through the corridors of the Fisher King's palace.

  And suddenly Charis appeared in the doorway, her face anxious and alarmed. But dismay quickly gave way to delight as she saw her son rising up from his deathbed.

  She rushed to him and gathered him in her arms. Merlin wept still and she wept with him, holding him, rocking him gently back and forth as if he were her babe once more. I stood near enough to hear him murmuring, 'I am unworthy… unworthy… Great Light, why was I born so blind!'

  A strange thing to say. Merlin born blind? But he wept like a man broken by grief, as if his heart lay riven in his breast, as if nothing could ever heal the rent in the gaping wound of his soul. I do not think I have ever seen or heard a man so forlorn and inconsolable.

  His misery was complete.

  I see them there still. I see it all: Charis holding her son, the two of them swaying gently back and forth; the monks encircling, uncertain, caught between joy and distress; candles bright, the room hazy with heavy light; the heave and shift of Merlin's shoulders as the sobs break from his wounded heart.

  And the woman – the Bright Bearer who released Merlin from his enchanted sleep – where is she?

  She is gone. Vanished as quietly, as mysteriously as she appeared. She is gone, and the marvellous Grail with her.

  Yes, and I feel again the numb despair stealing over me… the howling emptiness of futility… the staggering desolation of defeat, of knowing the battle is yet to be joined, and that the battle will be lost.

  Merlin understood this at once. He was a true prophet; he saw it all. In the dazzling light of his release, he saw the cold, sodden ashes of his failure.

  Small wonder that he wept.

  He could speak not a mote of this for some time. Later, when he could fit words to it, I began to understand why he wept.

  'It was arrogance!' he told me. 'It was pride. I was blind and stupid with it, Pelleas. Do not think to say me otherwise! Vanity! You should have let me die.'

  I made to soften his reproach, but there was no stopping him.

  'I went to Broceliande searching for a sign. I am given no end of signs, yet I heed them not! You see how ignorant I have been? How foolish? The Queen of Air and Darkness traps me with a child's trick! Such a splendid idiocy! Do you not love me for it, Pelleas?'

  'Surely, master – '

  'I wonder that you still call me master. I am unworthy of it, Pelleas. Trust that I am telling you the truth. No man was ever more unworthy.'

  'But you did not know.'

  'Did not know? It is my duty to know! I belittled her power. I ignored the danger.'

  He began to pace the hall restlessly. 'How could I be so close to her and not realize it? How is it possible that she could disguise herself so completely?'

  'Nimue?'

  'Oh, it was more than a new name, Pelleas. She was innocence itself. How is it possible that such an immense, corrupting evil can cloak itself in such beauty and purity?'

  It was, could only be, he concluded, a measure of Morgian's power. That she could so disguise herself – both in form and nature – was indeed a dire wonder.

  'Oh, great Merlin!' he jeered in self-mockery. 'He is so wise and powerful. Merlin is invincible! Do you not see it, Pelleas? Morgian can act openly, and with arrogance, and we are powerless against her. There is nothing to stop her now.'

  I was becoming frightened. I had never seen him in such a state. There is the Grail,' I said, grasping for any aid I could lay hand to.

  Merlin stopped stalking. He turned and gazed at me with the light in his golden eyes.

  'Yes,' he replied slowly, placing a finger to his lips. There is the Grail. I must not forget that.' Then he looked at me sharply. 'I saw it once, you know. I have never told that to anyone. I think Avallach has seen it, too. And now you, and Elf odd and the others.'

  'Yes, but what is it exactly?' I wondered. No one had yet explained it to me.

  'It is,' replied Merlin slowly, choosing his words, 'the cup Jesu used at his last supper, brought here by the tin merchant, Joseph of Arimathea – the same who founded the first shrine on Shrine Hill and established the teaching of the Christ in the Island of the Mighty.

  The very cup Jesu blessed, saying, "This is my blood which is shed for your sins." The cup was passed hand to hand among the Twelve on the night he was betrayed. Our Lord drank from it.

  'Joseph it was who paid for the room, and for the supper that night. After the Christ's death and resurrection, when his followers were sent out to tell the Gospel, Joseph came here. And he brought the cup.
'

  I had never heard the story before, and said so.

  'No?' Merlin replied. 'Well, I suppose not. It is an old story and not something voiced freely about. Those who see the cup are most reluctant to speak of it. There is a mystery and a power at work here – '

  That is not the half of it!'

  'Be that as it may, the Grail is possessed of a high holiness, and one does not speak lightly of such things.'

  Indeed, Merlin would speak no more about it.

  The next day, having prayed for him and blessed him, the monks departed. Merlin thanked them for their help and devotion, and gave them presents to take back to their homes with them. Elfodd was last to leave; having seen the others on their way, he lingered to speak to Merlin.

  'I will not ask how such an enchantment came upon you,' the abbot said. 'But it is clear that there are great and terrible forces working in the world. I would rest the better to know where you stand on this matter of sorcery.'

  Merlin cocked his head to one side. 'Why, Elfodd, do you think I caused this hurt to myself with some obscure dabbling?'

  Elfodd frowned. 'I do not reproach you, my friend. But we have seen much in the way of evil spirits and such at the Shrine. It is almost as if we are under siege here.' The abbot's frown deepened. 'We hear many rumours of the druids.'

  'And since I am a bard, you think – '

  'Do you deny receiving the druid learning?'

  'I deny nothing! And for the sake of our friendship, Abbot Elfodd, I will forget at once what you have just said.'

  'It is out of friendship that I tell you!'

  Merlin paused and drew a long breath. 'You are right. Forgive me.'

  Elfodd waved aside the apology. 'I take no offence at your words. Do not take offence at mine.'

  'I forget that the Learned Brotherhood is not what it once was,' Merlin admitted sadly.

  'No, it is not.' The abbot clasped his hands earnestly. 'It grieves me to see you troubled like this. You must understand that you cannot fight the enemy with the enemy's weapons – even for good.'