Lady of Avalon (52 page)

The hill had become transparent as glass, and a light was shining through it that was not the sun. As she gazed, it intensified, rising until it blazed from the top of the Tor. Gradually the hill became opaque beneath it, and as the dawn sky grew brighter, the radiance atop the Tor modulated so that she could see, first a figure, and then that the figure was Taliesin’s. But he
shone
…

Shouting, she began to run toward the Tor. There was no time for the stately spirals of the Processional Way. Viviane scrambled upward, clutching at the turf when her bare feet slipped on the dew-drenched grass. By the time she reached the top her breath came in tearing gasps. At the top she halted, clinging to one of the standing stones.

The man she had seen stood in the center of the circle, arms lifted in salutation to the rising sun. She stared at his back, biting back her cry of greeting. This was not the man she had called “Father.” The clothes and the height were Taliesin’s, but his posture and, more subtle still, his aura were not the same. The glow in the eastern sky intensified, unfurling banners of rose and gold. Then she looked away, dazzled, as the newborn sun burned up over the edge of the world.

When Viviane could focus again, the man had turned to face her. She blinked, seeing him first in silhouette, outlined in flame. Then her vision adjusted and she saw clearly for the first time what he had become.

“Where is Taliesin?”

“Here…” The voice was deeper too. “As he adjusts to my presence and I become accustomed to wearing flesh again, he will dominate more often. But in this hour of Omen it is I who must rule.”

“And for what is this hour propitious?” she asked then.

“For the consecration of a Lady of Avalon…”

“No.” Viviane shook her head and let go of the stone. “I have already refused it.”

“But I demand it in the name of the gods…”

“If the gods are so powerful, why does my mother lie dead, and the man I loved, and my child?”

“Dead?” He lifted one eyebrow. “They are no longer in the body, but you must know that you will see them again…as you have known them before. Do you not remember-
Isarma?
”

A shudder shook her thin frame as she heard the name that Ana had called her when Igraine was born. Hearing, she glimpsed, brief and vivid as fragments of dream, all those lives in which they had been linked, in each one striving to carry the Light a little farther…

“In this life, Taliesin has been a father to you, but it was not always so, Viviane. But that does not matter. It is not the union of the flesh but of the spirit that is of importance now. And so I ask you again-Daughter of Avalon, will you give meaning to all the suffering you have seen, and accept your destiny?”

Viviane stared at him, thinking furiously. He was offering her a power beyond that of kings. Her mother had lived all her life safe on this isle, and never really used it. But Viviane had seen the enemy. In the world where Rome had ruled, Avalon could be no more than a legend, preserving the ancient wisdom, but reaching out only rarely to guide the affairs of men. Now all things were changing. The Legions were gone, and the Saxons had destroyed all the old certainties. From this chaos a new nation would emerge, and why should it not be guided by Avalon?

“If I agree,” she said slowly, “then you must promise that together we shall prepare the way for the Defender-the Sacred King who shall place the Saxons under his heel and rule forever from Avalon!” It seemed to her that this had always been her role, with Vortimer, and before that, when she had been High Priestess of Avalon in other lives, and the spirit of the Defender had lived in other men. “To this purpose I pledge this life, and I swear that I shall do whatever is necessary to bring these things to pass.”

The Merlin nodded, and in his eyes she saw an ageold sorrow and an ageless joy. “The King will come,” he echoed, “and he will rule forever in Avalon…”

Viviane let out her breath in a long sigh, and came to him.

For a moment he stood smiling down at her; then he knelt before her and she felt his lips brush each foot in turn.

“Blessed be the feet that have brought you here-may you be rooted in this sacred soil!” He set his palms over her arches and pressed down firmly, and Viviane felt her soul reaching down through the soles of her feet, extending deep into the Tor. When she breathed in once more, its power came rushing back upward, and she swayed like a tree in the wind.

“Blessed be your womb; the Holy Grail and the cauldron of life”-his voice shook-“from which we are reborn. May you bring forth blessings.” As he touched her belly, she felt his kiss burning through the cloth of her gown. She thought of the Grail, and saw it glowing crimson as the blood that had gushed from her mother’s womb, and then she
was
the Grail, and from her, life flowed ever outward in pain and ecstasy.

She was still shaking when he kissed her breasts, hard and firm with milk for the child.

“Blessed be your breasts, which shall nourish all your children…”

As the power fountained upward, her breasts throbbed with sweet pain. They were full now for a child that was not her own, and she understood that, although in time to come she might bear others, she would always, in a sense, be feeding those who were her children not in the flesh but in the spirit.

The Merlin took her hands, and pressed a kiss upon each palm.

“Blessed be your hands, with which the Goddess shall work Her will…”

Viviane thought of Vortimer’s grip slackening in hers as he died. She had been the Goddess for him then, but she wanted to give life, not death. She hungered to touch Igraine’s bright hair and Morgause’s silken skin. And yet, as she flexed her fingers and felt their strength, she knew that whichever they were called to deal-life or death-that they could do.

“Blessed be your lips, that shall speak the Word of Avalon to the world…” Very gently, he kissed her. It was not the kiss of a lover, but it filled her with fire. She swayed, though she was too firmly rooted to fall.

“My beloved, thus I make you High Priestess and Lady of Avalon, that your choice may confer sovereignty upon kings.” He took her head between his hands and kissed the crescent moon upon her brow.

Light exploded within her skull, and Vision was opened; together they whirled through a thousand lives, a thousand worlds. She was Viviane, and she was Ana. She was Caillean, calling the mists to hide Avalon; she was Dierna, burying Carausius on the sacred hill; she was every High Priestess who had ever stood upon this Tor. Their memories awakened within her, and she knew that from this time forward she would never be entirely alone.

And then awareness settled back within the confines of her skull. Viviane was aware of her body, and found that she could move her feet once more. And yet she saw the man before her with doubled sight, the standing stones were glowing, and every blade of grass beyond them seemed edged with light. She knew then that she, as well as Taliesin, had been forever changed.

By now the sun was well above the eastern hills. From here Viviane could look down upon the lake and all the sacred islands and see, nearer still, the people of Avalon, gazing upward with wonder in their eyes. Taliesin reached out and she gave him her hand.

Then the Merlin of Britannia and the Lady of Avalon came down from the Tor to begin the new day.

Priestess or Queen, King or Mage, again and again the pattern alters and re-forms. They think it is the blood that matters, and dream of dynasties, but I watch the evolution of the spirit which transcends mortality. That is the difference-from life to life and age to age they grow and change, while I am forever the same.

It fares likewise with the holy isle. As the priests of this new cult that denies all gods but one tighten their grip on Britannia, the Avalon of the priestesses moves even further from the knowledge of humankind. And yet they cannot ever be wholly divided, as we of Faerie have found. The spirit of the earth transcends all dimensions, and so does the Spirit that stands behind all their gods.

A new age is coming, when Avalon shall seem as distant to them as Faerie does now. This girl who rules now upon the Tor will use her powers to try to change that destiny, and the one who comes after her will do the same. They will fail-even the Defender, when he comes, will conquer only for a little while. How could it be otherwise, when their lives are but moments in the life of the world?

It is their dreams that will survive, for a dream is immortal-as am I. And though the world should change entirely, as its events have their reflections here, so there are places where a little of the light of the Otherworld shines through to the world of men. And that light shall not be lost to humankind so long as men still seek solace in this holy earth called Avalon.

^*
= historical figure

() = dead before story begins

This file was created with BookDesigner program

[email protected]

5/17/2008

LRS to LRF parser v.0.9; Mikhail Sharonov, 2006; msh-tools.com/ebook/