29.
Arthur looked to the fire that was blazing on the funeral pyre. The bodies of the dead knights’ were laid on it. The ceremony was short and then final rites rushed through. Arthur looked at the knights’ family who were in pain at the passing of their loved ones. He then moved from it to the covered platform where Pendragon was seated with his family. He spied on the lovely Morgause and could not hide his smile then.
“Obviously, your interest was not at the grief of loved ones but at the angel hovering nearby.”
Lancelot poked at the other. He was not without his own discretion for he was also staring at another lady seated next to Pendragon. Arthur saw then the signal from Pendragon to meet the later. They met in the hall with only the ones close to the King was present.
“Your ploy was good.” Pendragon looked to Arthur. “I am surprised that I went with it.”
Arthur bowed to the one he had hailed as his Lord. He then explained himself.
“I am a mere Lord under your patronage. Without your protection, I am at the mercy of the others as seen here. The true test of the task was not on mine but of yours. You have now seen the greedy features of your Lords and Kings whose lips spoke of words and yet their heart displayed false misgivings on you.”
“It was from Merlin that I avail myself to them as their guest.” Arthur motioned to the druid next to him. “Merlin…”
“Druid” Pendragon stared at the other. “You will have a private audience with me.”
“And to you, Arthur of Camelot.” The first instance when Pendragon acknowledged the existence of the castle. “I will have two hundred of my knights to your command for this war. Use them wisely and when you are victorious, know that they are to be rewarded.”
Arthur bowed and then thanked Pendragon for the assistance rendered. He then took leave of hall with the others leaving Pendragon and the druid. Once the door of the hall was closed to the outside hearings, Pendragon heaved a deep breath and then stared at the druid.
“What madness prevailed in your mind to raise up the issue then? I am the lover of Lady Igraine and father to her three daughters. How dare you smear my namesake with the old tale…” Pendragon hissed out his anger at the druid.
“My Lord, I ….” The druid was cut off by Pendragon.
“You will not speak when I do. You will listen when I speak. You will …” Pendragon drew in another breath of air before he resumed his words. “You will lose your head, druid.”
“And I will lose it not by your executioner.” Merlin snapped back. He approached the other and spoke. “Your task will not be taken away by the silence of my tongue. He is truly your son.”
“Do you recall then at the blessing ceremony of the child?” Merlin asked back the other. “You were in fear then of your life. You had your knights near you and yet you fear for your life. Who was it you fear then? Her lover was dead but you feared her.”
“Lady Igraine lived in seclusion on your treacherous act. She felt ashamed that she bore your son when it was another who was in her bed. You may have him killed in battle but you could not kill her heart for him. Nor her hatred on your seed inside her. She had him blessed and then told me to discard the child to the wolves.”
“Say no more of the past.” Pendragon pleaded with Merlin. “I will hear no more.”
“You will do so for I am telling the truth. I had the child brought to you and you disowned it.” Merlin then snarled his expression. “He was yours and yet you rejected him? Do you recall your words then?”
“Do as you may please, druid. I will hear no more of the child. Your exact words, my Lord then.” Merling sighed.
“I took my leave and it was in the forest I had lain with your son. I was to leave him there when he cried. A wolf appeared then and I was scared. I ran to hide on the tree leaving the child. The wolf did not eat your child but fed it with her milk. It was the sign then that I knew he was of your true blood. The howls in your battle cries were that of the wolves. You carried the mark of the dark wolf on your battle chest.”
“I retrieved the child and had it sent to a childless couple. It was fate which drew me to have the child brought up by the Bedyr. They are a strong clan then and once were reputed to be the warriors of the wolves before they dispersed into the farms. Arthur was raised by them but I was with him on occasions to drive his growth. I told the Bedyr to have him sent for the training as a Legionnaire.”
“I wanted Arthur to be the warrior like his true father.” Merlin concluded his tale.
“Does he know?” Pendragon asked. Merlin shook his head.
“I merely told him that I created the tale to free him then. There was no element of truth in it.” Merlin replied. “Arthur may not be your son by name but he can be one by marriage. Let him be paired to one of your daughters.”
“Blasphemy! I will not have that. He is of our blood and shared not be shared with one other.” Pendragon snapped out in anger. “Have you no moral values, druid?”
“There is no wrong in the consummation. In the faraway lands where the great river Nile flowed, the Kings and Queens are siblings and yet they continued on with bliss.” Merlin defended the move.
“Are we not from the same man and woman at the beginning?”
“Never, druid! Arthur will not marry one of my daughters whether he is the bastard of mine or not. I forbid it. He may marry any of the other ladies but never the three of mine.” Pendragon stood up and then moved to the wall where the tapestry outlining the land he controlled. “Arthur may be King if he proves himself to me. Not by marriage but by battle.”
Merlin smiled. He knew that Pendragon will not smear his own namesake with a bastard and yet he wishes well for the son to be his successor. He then looked at Merlin.
“Only if he return as the victor.”
Unknown to both of them, there was another who overheard the conversation. The figure shut the doorway without a sound and then crept away in silence from the adjacent chamber. The figure during the retreat bumped into the lady of the castle.
“Morgan Le Fay, what ails you that you need to run like a vagrant?” The voice belonged to Lady Igraine and her expression frowned on seeing her youngest dressed like a man servant. “And what manners of clothing have you drawn on? Are you not shameful of such antics?”
Morgan Le Fay was then having reached her puberty was never a ladylike personality to begin with. Unlike her sisters, she was more like her namesake; a wild boy growing with the stable hands and servants. When she was unattended, she will partake with the boys in their games and many a times was cautioned by the elders. She was found swinging from the trees or riding the horse without a handler. Her other antics was to take lessons from the wizards and witches from the village. She was slim build with the short tresses of hair but her appealing factor was her eyes which shone with the gleam shades of blue when she stared at the other. She found nothing appealing in sewing nor reading the books reserved for ladies. She was once coached by the elder druid named Merlin at a tender age but soon later she was sent to the nannies of the castle.
“I am sorry, Mother. I was …with the horses.,..” Morgan Le Fay was intervened by her mother’s list of raving list of what a lady ought not to do but the youngest daughter was soon running off for her chamber and slamming the door. It was then she noticed that she was not alone.
“Morgan Le Fay, you do not slam doors.” It was her sister Morgause reprimanding her then. Morgan ran to her sister and spoke of everything heard by her in the hall. The elder sister reeled back in shock at the news. She burst out into tears then and pushed Morgan off.
“How could this be? Arthur was…” Morgause was distressed then and started for the doorway. Morgan was before her and asked where she was going.
“I am to see father. He ..”
“Then he will ask how you knew. He would have guessed it was me. The last time I did something like this, I was sent to the convent for a month. You can’t tell him.”
“I care not. You are a ….vixen to do this to me. I l…like Arthur.” Morgause glared at her sister. “How would you know of that? You are not even a …lady.”
Morgause then stepped back. She walked to the bed and smoothen the linens there.
“Morgan Le Fay, I know of your …dirty things. You are no angel but a …vixen. That’s’ what you are.” Morgause spat at her sister. “You pretend to be a boy and mingle among them.”
“Stop it! I am not a vixen. I am ….” Morgan Le Fay was at tears herself to be named as one. “I am your sister and I like to be there because of the horses.”
“Horses indeed!” Morgause shrugged her shoulders and pointed her finger at Morgan. “Speak the truth or let the Gods decide your punishment. I heard tales of your antics with the boys behind the stalls. You …”
“You hold nothing there, Morgan.” Morgause was vicious in her words. “You are not grown like mine.”
Morgause was three years older than Morgan but she had outgrown her clothes and she looked like a young lady then. She put her lips and pushed her bosom at Morgan. It was an outrageous move by the other that made Morgan cried out in tears.
“I will grow. I can grow.” Morgan was upset when she was insulted on her boyish looks. “I will be better than you.”
“Grow some hair before you confront me again!” Morgause hit back and it was then Elaine stepped into the chamber.
“What’s all the shouting? I was outside in the corridor and the servants were at the door.” It was the mention of the servants that threw Morgan Le Fay into a fit of anger. She stormed past her sisters and ran out to the stables. Morgan ran to the stalls where her favorite mare was kept. She leaned on the horse and cried out her anger.
“Arthur….you will pay for it. You are the cause of it all.
”
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