Arthur II Book III Chapter 1

 

Chronicles of the Knights and Ladies I

 

1.

 

“Cuers d’omme ne puet a grant honor venir, qui trop longement est sous maistre ne sous maistresse” (a man cannot aspire to high honor if he stays too long under the tutelage of a master or mistress.). Lancelot took those words from Lady Morgause who said that when she was to leave him for her tasks. She told him that a new mistress will take on his studies and coaching.

“No, I cannot have you and I will have no others.” Lancelot cried out. He had lived the last few years with the lady, soothing him of his dreams and making sure he was taken care of. She was the one who taught him the ways of the gentleman and how the lady shall be treated. It was a game to both of them, and merriment ruled his life. He has forgotten the pains of seeing his foster father being murdered on the lake banks, and the need to avenge had subsided. He even allowed her to take him out of his chamber into the courtyard where the flower blooms.

“Lady Morgause, why do you treat me so well?” Lancelot had asked of her.

“I guess you are a lost soul, and I am just being nice,” Morgause replied. In her heart, she yearned for love but there was none at the Lake. It was barren of feelings and more to it; it was the imprisonment of learning and teaching. She had not expected that live there but her vows were given.

“If I am … to have a mother, I will choose you.” Lancelot had told her.

“And I won’t be your mother. You are too old to be my son. Perhaps is your sister?” Morgause replied. “You will one day grow up and be a Man but before you reached that, you need to know how to be a man.”

“I don’t want to be one. I had seen them killed my father. They are mean.” Lancelot turned away. “Man is evil. They take all they want.”

“Lawnslot,” Morgause called him by the name given to him. “Not all Man is like that. They are some who are kind.”

“If there were, I have not seen any,” Lancelot replied.

Morgause turned to look away. She has not been at peace with herself on that. Her own family was with strict parents where her father was a stout believer in the Gods. They have two daughters and a son but the father dotes on the son more.

“He will grow into a fine lad one day.” Morgause’s father was ever proud of the son. The son died in a freak accident when the tree fell on him during a storm. The daughters were taken to be blamed for his death. It was partially true for Morgause was with a boy then. She was of the age that she finds the boys a wee bit interesting although Morgan was pensive and grumpy. She did not see the younger brother took off to go back through the forest.

“The Gods are upset with us. They take our son as the penance.” Morgause’ father cried out. “I must seek for forgiveness.”

It was how a year later, both Morgause and Morgan were sent to the Convent to be the disciples. Their parents have believed it was the right thing to do. Although Morgan was submissive to her new life, Morgause was not. She was reprimanded many times for leaving the Convent unattended. She had to for she found an affectionate boy to share her feelings.

He was young but gentle and kind.

Their rendezvous was discovered and Morgause was detained to the chamber. She did not hear from the boy since then. A year later, they were asked to take the test to determine if they were ready.

“Ready for what, Mother Matron,” Morgause asked.

“Your names were selected by the Ladies of the Lake. You will be determined by them and if successful, you will join them.”

“The Ladies of the Lake? Who are they?” Morgause had asked. “I …”

“Silence, girl! You have been in enough trouble here. I was to banish you but the hands of the Gods forbid me. We have not sent one of ours out and you won’t be the first. If I can’t handle you, then perhaps the ladies of the Lake will do so where I have failed.”

Failure may be on the part of the Mother Matron but Morgause passed the test and was to be a part of the ladies. She saw Morgan was not selected and pleaded then with the ladies of the Lake. They were by the lake.

“I cannot be without her.” Morgause had pleaded. “She is all I have left …. For a family.”

“We cannot take her for she may not be …suitable.” The lady then spoke. She was Evony of the Lake. “We can only take seven of you and she is not on the list.”

“Then I won’t go.” Morgause had told the lady. “We stay together regardless.”

Lady Evony was to speak when she was approached by the other lady named Bethany.

“Evony, we cannot be split them. It’s … not our way.” Bethany spoke for Morgause. “It’s either …”

“I declined my selection.” The voice belonged to one of the seven selected girls. “I will give my place to her.”

“Juanice, you are kind but that decision is not even ours to make. We need to consult the Lake for its approval.”

When the ladies turned their back on the girls, Morgause called out.

“What are the ladies if the guardians cannot speak for its care?”

“You speak rudely, girl.” Evony cautioned Morgause. “You …”

The water in the lake swirled and then a sprout of water appeared above the surface. It flowed towards Morgan and stopped before her face. The other stood her ground and the water retreated. The ladies then gathered once more to speak.

“The Lake has spoken. The will of the girl is strong. Her will is felt by the Lake, and it shall comply.”

It was how the sisters made it to the Lake.

“Lady Morgause, I will challenge Lady Vivianne as you did with the Lake.” Lancelot had spoken.

No, young … brother. What I did was …. Love for my sister. I was bolder then and when I arrived here, I have become less. I am the guardian of the Lake and yet I am its servant. I have the urge to get out but I can’t. I have my vows.”  Morgause sighed. “You are different. You are a guest. One day, you can leave but before you do so, learn well and be a good man.”

“I …” Lancelot was in tears.

“Don’t be sad. All the ladies are good tutors. And when you are out there, they will be many more tutors. Learn it all.” Those were Lady Morgause's words to him.

Lancelot on his saddle looked to the hills beyond. It has been a year since he left Camelot to journey the land.  He had taken the journey out of misery and the desire to better himself. Peace had reigned there but there were pockets of Anglo Saxons and Picts who still roamed the land.

Lancelot will ride alone to whatever destiny it may lead. He had taken the Black Knight with him. He will don it when he passed the settlements. Words will pass among them that the Black Knight rides there.

“Pass the word that I am back.”

Under the nights, Lancelot will dwell on his misery of losing Guinevere.

“Losing? She was not mine to lose.” Many times Lancelot spoke to himself on that. He looked at the dark skies and his dreams will hold the image of Guinevere standing there nude. She will smile at him but when he saw the hands that reached for her it was not his. It was of Arthur.

“No!” Lancelot woke up from his sleep. He sighed then and will reach for the water holder for the drink. His lips were parched and his throat needed the water. One night he woke up and from the corner of the eye, he saw a figure seated by the fireplace.

“Who are you?” Lancelot had reached for his sword.

“I am a friar. I am sorry if I startle you. I was cold and in need of the warmth from the fire.” The friar was with his rounded haircut and the top shaven. It was their religious devotion or humility to hold that appearance. He was dressed in the woolen tunic that covered his knees and the straw sandals.

“Etes-vou francais?” The Friar asked in French. Lancelot shook his head.

“Ah… I met two of them last week. They were rude towards me. They called me ‘unique’ which I am not. We are allowed to marry.” The Friar laughed. “Much to do there but the ways of God cannot be questioned.”

“Friar, you are not …. Unique if I may say.”

“Speak your mind, knight. I am used to it all from the taverns to the whores.” The Friar smiled. “And the God-fearing servants. May I share your fire?”

“You are at it. And there is food in the bag.” Without hesitation, the friar took the offerings.

“Your name, Friar.”

“Tate, for Thaedeus but call me Tate.”

“Lancelot.”

“Do you need a squire, Sir Knight? I require food though.”