Literature Review
The Mists of Avalon is an adaptation of the legends of King Arthur by author Marion Zimmer Bradley. Zimmer Bradley’s novel diverges from most Arthurian adaptations by focusing on the perspectives of the female characters surrounding King Arthur, bringing their occasionally sidelined stories front and center. Zimmer Bradley was a notable figure in the science fiction and fantasy world, publishing several acclaimed novels within the genre. The Mists of Avalon was published in 1983 and immediately became popular. In 1984, it was awarded the Locus Award for Best Fantasy Novel. Its success led Zimmer Bradley to expand the book into a series, writing three subsequent installations with collaborator Diana L. Paxson. The Mists of Avalon was also adapted as a miniseries in 2001. Content warnings for The Mists of Avalon include mentions and graphic depictions of rape, incest, and child marriage.
Plot Summary
Morgaine is the daughter of Igraine and Duke Gorlois of Cornwall. Igraine is a child of Avalon, but was married off to Gorlois at a very young age. Though Gorlois loves Igraine in his own way, she pines for Uther Pendragon, the High King of Britain. Her sister Viviane, and Taliesin the Merlin, two powerful figures in the magical land of Avalon, told her she was destined to have Uther’s son. This son would grow to be a legendary king who would unite Britain.
Igraine and Uther marry shortly after Gorlois is killed for treason, and they have a son, Gwydion. Uther sends both children to be fostered after Gwydion’s life is threatened: Morgaine goes to live with Viviane, where she trains to be a priestess of Avalon. Morgaine has a natural gift for magic, and Viviane plans to name her Lady of the Lake one day. She learns that there is a great battle between Druidism and Christianity and that she will play a role in preserving Avalon and uniting Britain under a new High King.
For Avalon to accept him, this new High King must participate in a fertility ritual called the Great Marriage, having sex with a virgin priestess to form a covenant with the land. This will turn him into King Stag, who gives his life for the land and its people. Morgaine completes this ritual with the future king, only to learn afterward that she unwittingly slept with Gwydion, who now goes by the name Arthur. Morgaine is ashamed and upset that the Goddess humiliated her like this.
When Morgaine returns to Avalon, Viviane tells her that she plans to give Arthur Excalibur, a sacred Druid sword. She instructs Morgaine to create an enchanted scabbard that will protect him in battle. This will show Arthur that Avalon supports him and will bind him to protect them as long as he rules. Arthur receives Excalibur before a crucial battle against the Saxons, and his victory proves his legitimacy. When Uther eventually dies, Arthur is crowned with little controversy.
To her dismay, Morgaine finds out that she is pregnant with Arthur’s child. Angry with Viviane, Morgaine renounces Avalon and has her son, Gwydion, in the court of her Aunt Morgause. Morgause and her husband Lot openly desire the throne of Britain, and Gwydion gives them an opportunity to pursue it. Eventually, Morgaine decides to return to Caerleon, where she serves as a lady-in-waiting to Arthur’s new wife, Gwenhwyfar. Gwenhwyfar is beautiful, incredibly anxious, and deeply pious. As a priestess of Avalon, Morgaine often chafes with Gwenhwyfar about matters of religion. They also fight for the affections of Lancelet, Arthur’s most esteemed knight. Gwenhwyfar believes that her adulterous love for Lancelet is preventing her from carrying a pregnancy to term and tortures herself over her feelings.
The night before a key battle against the Saxons, Gwenhwyfar convinces Arthur to fly the sign of the cross rather than the red dragon (a symbol of his protection of all beliefs). Arthur’s decisive victory prompts him to rule as a Christian king. This alienates his allies in Avalon. They only stand with him because he continues to wield Excalibur. After this battle, Arthur moves his court to Camelot.
Gwenhwyfar’s continued inability to produce an heir leads her down a spiral of blame and self-doubt. Arthur, noticing her feelings for Lancelet, tells her that if she has a child with him, he would adopt it as his own. She takes this as an indication of her sin and tells Morgaine she is considering participating in a pagan fertility ritual out of desperation. To calm her down, Morgaine tells Gwenhwyfar that Arthur has a bastard son living in the court of King Lot, swearing her to secrecy.
Worrying that Gwenhwyfar’s love for Lancelet will bring shame to Arthur, Morgaine enchants Lancelet into sleeping with Elaine, the daughter of one of Arthur’s allies. Elaine promises her future daughter in exchange for Morgaine’s role in setting up her marriage. Her daughter, Nimue, eventually trains as a priestess of Avalon.
While Arthur and Gwenhwyfar argue over her infertility, she confesses that Morgaine told her he has a son. Arthur suspects that this is a result of the fertility ritual and confronts Morgaine, who admits that their son, Gwydion, is training to be a priest at Avalon. Both the incest and the training horrify Gwenhwyfar, and she orders Arthur to do public penance with his fanatic bishop, Patricius.
At Camelot’s Pentecost feast, Morgaine enjoys the company of Accolon, a Druid prince from North Wales. His father, King Uriens, asks Arthur for Morgaine’s hand in marriage. Gwenhwyfar, angry at Morgaine’s role in Lancelet’s marriage and wanting to send her away, tells Arthur that Uriens is a valuable ally. When Arthur asks if she would marry Welsh royalty, Morgaine enthusiastically consents, thinking he is referring to Accolon, and must marry Uriens. Morgaine and Accolon have an affair and spread the ways of Avalon throughout North Wales. The pagans in the region regard them as their High Priest and Priestess.
Gwydion visits Camelot after completing his training in Avalon and spending several years learning warfare from the Saxons. He knows his true parentage and wants Arthur to acknowledge him and accept him at court. However, he is rumored to be the bastard son of Lancelet. In order to avoid accusations of favoritism, he challenges Lancelet to a mock fight. Lancelet, impressed by his bravery, knights him as Sir Mordred.
Morgaine, sick of watching Arthur fail to uphold his oath, tells Accolon that they must launch a coup against Camelot. She plans to trap Arthur in the fairy world. However, Arthur breaks out by calling on his devotion to God, and he kills Accolon in combat. Uriens claims that Accolon never would have challenged Arthur without pressure from Morgaine, suspecting their affair. Morgaine is forced to flee Wales.
While in Avalon, Morgaine learns that Kevin, the Merlin of Britain, has stolen some of the Isle’s Holy Regalia with the intention of bringing it to Camelot’s clergy. Kevin believes Avalon’s days are numbered and thinks it is best to make amends with Camelot. Morgaine, in disguise, travels to Camelot to take them back. During a service, Morgaine uses her magic to manifest as the Presence, a symbol of the One God. She carries the Holy Grail throughout the mass, prompting the knights to go on a quest to find it. While they are gone, Mordred takes the opportunity to gain Arthur’s trust before ultimately making a bid for the throne. He mortally wounds Arthur, and Morgaine takes him to Avalon to die in peace. She tells him he did his best to protect Britain and buries him on the Holy Isle. Morgaine remains in Avalon and swears to tell the story of King Arthur and Camelot.
Part 1: “Mistress of Magic”
Prologue Summary
Morgaine reflects on the different roles she has occupied in life and the conflict between Christianity and the ways of magic. She mourns the loss of her brother Arthur, who is currently dead on the Holy Isle of Avalon; Morgaine provided help in his final moments as a “wise-woman, priestess, Lady of the Lake” (x). Morgaine resolves to tell the story of King Arthur, acknowledging that truth can be subjective but feeling that her perspective is important. She understands that Avalon may soon be lost forever, but storytelling can help preserve it within memory.
Part 1, Chapter 1 Summary
Along with her 13-year-old sister Morgause, Igraine, wife of Duke Gorlois of Cornwall, prepares Tintagel Castle for a visit from her older sister, Viviane, and Taliesin, the Merlin of Britain. Igraine has the Sight—the ability to see people who aren’t present or things that haven’t happened yet—but had to abandon it when she married Gorlois. Igraine tolerates Gorlois because he occasionally treats as an equal and has allowed her to keep her infant daughter Morgaine.
Viviane’s arrival marks the first time she and Igraine have seen each other since her marriage to Gorlois.
Gorlois collects Igraine after a sleepless night apart, and they attend Ambrosius’s burial. After the ceremony, Gorlois says he must remind the squabbling council members of Ambrosius’s wishes and gives Igraine money to shop in Londinium. When she returns, a weary Gorlois refuses to disclose what occurred at the debate. As Igraine falls asleep, she dreams of kissing Uther.
Igraine is devastated to get her period, as it means she is not pregnant. She begins to spiral, realizing that her elderly husband may be the reason for her infertility. After several days of sulking in her chambers, she is visited by the Merlin, who tells her that he will send her a dream as a remedy for her ills.
After weeks of debate, Gorlois tells Igraine that Uther will likely be declared High King. It appears that the Merlin’s prophecy is coming true, which leads Igraine to dread losing Gorlois. Unable to sleep, she slips out into the night, where she notices a mountain to her west, completely on fire. She recognizes it as the legendary Temple of the Sun at Salisbury. Igraine hears a man’s voice speaking to her about the temple. It appears to be Uther wearing the robes of an ancient priest.
Part 1: “Mistress of Magic”
Part 1, Chapter 7 Summary
After a brief return to Tintagel, Gorlois leaves again, hoping to ambush Uther’s army. Igraine feels that he is acting irrationally, and that “he would deprive all Britain of her High King […] all because he was not man enough for his wife and feared that Uther would be” (87).
Igraine waits for Uther to find her at Midwinter. On a particularly frigid night, Igraine invites an old peasant woman inside, hoping to gain some idea of the outside world. She says that battle has overtaken Britain, and that the combined chaos of the infighting between the dukes and Saxon invasion has reached the Holy Isle, where she lives. She mentions that Viviane has given birth to a baby boy, Galahad. Viviane says that Galahad, whose father is King Ban of Less Britain, will serve another king’s child, suggesting that Igraine’s fate will come to pass.
Igraine decides to use sorcery to warn Uther. She recalls her brief training at Avalon and projects her soul through the land of dreams. Igraine sees Gorlois’s camp and hears him discussing how the Cornish weather will likely thwart Uther. She is shocked into returning to her physical body at Tintagel.
Viviane and Morgaine arrive at Avalon after a difficult journey. As Viviane struggles to summon the barge that will take them to the island’s shores, she wonders how much strength she has left. She resolves to live until Morgaine and Gwydion are grown, since the fate of Avalon depends on them. They travel through a mysterious landscape. Although Morgaine seems frightened, Viviane says nothing, as she must grow accustomed to discomfort. When the thick fog breaks, Morgaine sees a beautiful land filled with light, music, and magic. She immediately feels at home.
Morgaine and Viviane rest and receive care from a young woman named Raven, who is under a vow of silence. Viviane says that eventually, Morgaine will know if the Goddess has called her. If so, she will take a vow and receive the mark of a moon on her forehead. Morgaine asks what it means to be vowed to the Goddess, and how it differs from the vow Father Columba has taken to Jesus Christ. Viviane reveals that the Christian God is the same omnipresent being, saying “God is called by many names, but is everywhere One […] when you pray to Mary, mother of Jesus, you pray, without knowing it, to the World Mother” (134).
On a moonless night, Morgaine and Raven prepare for a ritual involving the Goddess. Raven begins screaming a prophecy that foretells the “Virgin Huntress” calling “the king to her” and relinquishing “her maidenhood to the God….ah, the old sacrifice, the old sacrifice” (168). Morgaine collapses and feels sick and confused; as she recovers, she considers the meaning of Raven’s words.
Morgaine goes to see Viviane to consult her about Raven’s prophecy. Viviane explains that it is referring to the ancient fertility ritual of the old Tribes, in which the Horned One is given his choice of young maidens to acknowledge the sacrifice King Stag, the strongest deer in a herd, makes by dying for human gain. This custom has evolved into the Great Marriage. This ancient ritual tests a new king, who will need to participate in the Great Marriage with a priestess: Morgaine. Morgaine eventually agrees, recalling when Viviane told her that “it is too heavy a burden to be borne unconsenting” (171).
Part 1, Chapter 15 Summary
Morgaine leaves Avalon to prepare for the Great Marriage with the priestess of the Tribes, who takes her through an elaborate ritual in which she is naked and painted with blue markings. She is then led outside in a deerskin cloak; she can see the outline of the man she is supposed to be with but is only able to tell that he is tall, athletic, and has blond hair.
Viviane reflects on Morgaine’s harsh words, balking at the thought that she could hate her. She wonders if she is actually power hungry but concludes, “What I have done […] I have done to save this land and its people from rapine and destruction, a reversion to barbarism, a sacking greater than Rome suffered from the Goths” (191). She wonders who will be the next ruler of Avalon; she feels that Morgaine is not yet ready because she still resists fate.
As Viviane prays for a longer life to retain her stewardship over Avalon, she sees the shape of a great red dragon in the sky alongside a shooting star. She realizes that Uther has passed, and she takes a moment to mourn him. Shortly after, a Sending of Uther—the same one that appeared to Igraine all those years ago—manifests in her room. He tells her that she must ensure that Arthur is crowned the next High King. Viviane suggests that he will be able to unify them under the name of Avalon, but Uther says it will take more than her magic. Suddenly, the Sending changes into a man that Viviane recognizes from her dreams and realizes “why no man had ever been more to her than duty, or a path to power, or a night’s pleasure” (194): She and Uther were also connected in a past life.
Morgaine has arrived at Orkney, sick from her pregnancy. Morgaine is well taken care of by Morgause and enjoys time with her young nephew Gareth, who hopes to be a knight one day. However, she misses Avalon and has trouble eating and drinking.
Lot and Gareth discuss how Morgaine’s son will be the Duke of Cornwall, since Arthur returned Tintagel to Igraine. Morgause realizes that this places the child closer to the throne than their son, Gawaine. Suddenly, Morgaine goes into labor. As Morgause goes to help her, Lot tells her, “You are quick to bring our Gawaine’s rival into the world!” (243). He remarks that it might be best if she hopes that Morgaine’s son dies at birth.
Morgaine endures a difficult birth, and Morgause questions whether or not she will be able to survive. Morgause, who has a hint of the Sight, knows she is withholding information about the child’s father. She begins to weep, thinking that Morgaine may not survive the birth.
Finally, Morgaine gives birth to a son. As she naps peacefully, Morgause realizes she has the opportunity to kill the young boy but hesitates. If the child’s father is
A year after Arthur makes his request of Igraine, she returns to collect Gwenhwyfar from the Summer Kingdom. Gwenhwyfar is terrified, and though Igraine’s experience with Gorlois makes her empathetic, she is perplexed at how frightened she is given Arthur’s age and kindness. Lancelet accompanies them to escort Leodegranz’s men and horses. As they meet him, he is struggling to arrange the transportation of a large, round table that Leodegranz has given to Arthur to “seat his well-born Companions without preferring one over the other” (267). Igraine escorts Gwenhwyfar to the litter, where she insists on keeping the curtains closed. She notices that every sliver of light and jostle on the road seems to frighten Gwenhwyfar. Gwenhwyfar briefly feels anger at her situation but knows that it is important to “obey her father’s will as if it were the will of God” (267). She spends the rest of the evening fretting about whether or not Arthur will find her beautiful.
Eventually, Igraine suggests that Gwenhwyfar leave the litter to ride with Lancelet, thinking that fresh air will be good for her spirits. Igraine watches the pair from a distance and notices a huge difference in Gwenhwyfar’s temperament and demeanor.
Now one of Gwenhwyfar’s ladies-in-waiting, Morgaine is spinning when she has a vision of blood spilling onto the hearth. A concerned Gwenhwyfar approaches her and asks if her vision was true, but Morgaine assures her it was just a dream. However, Morgaine later predicts that the men will be home in the evening, making Gwenhwyfar skeptical. Gwenhwyfar brushes it off, calling for a great feast for when the men return.
Later in the evening, Arthur returns, disappointed that Gwenhwyfar is not pregnant. The couple has been trying to conceive since their marriage without success. Gwenhwyfar has convinced herself that this is punishment for her secretly coveting Lancelet and for Arthur’s refusal to rule Caerleon under Christianity. As Arthur and Gwenhwyfar prepare for bed, Arthur remarks that Lancelet needs a wife. He suggests Morgaine, which upsets Gwenhwyfar. Angry and disappointed, she tells Arthur he should be ashamed of ruling over a kingdom that supports Druidism. When Arthur reminds her that he has sworn an oath to Avalon and intends to be a king for all people, Gwenhwyfar suggests that he no longer has his priorities in order. She says that people who practice magic are just as barbaric as the Saxons: “The true warfare for a Christian king is only against those who do not follow Christ” (317).
Arthur converts Caerleon into his main military camp. As he strategizes with Lancelet and the other kings, Gwenhwyfar expresses her distaste at Arthur riding under a pagan symbol. She does not believe they should fight on the same side as Avalon, stating that “The Old People are of the enemy, as much as the Saxons, and this will not be a proper Christian land until all those folk are dead or fled into their hills, and their demon gods with them!” (379). Arthur angrily reminds her that he rules for all people. He tells Gwenhwyfar to rest so that she can leave for Camelot in the morning, but she refuses, admitting that she is pregnant.
Gwenhwyfar is allowed to stay in Caerleon. Arthur has promised her that if she bears him a son, he will give her anything, so Gwenhwyfar decides she will ask for his armies to ride under the cross. In preparation, she and Elaine begin working on the banner. When Taliesin visits, She shows him her banner and tells him that she intends for Arthur to adopt it. Taliesin compliments her work, and tells her that like Arthur’s scabbard, it clearly reflects care and prayer.
Gwenhwyfar is plagued with dreams of Morgaine taking her to the Beltane fires to be received by Lancelet. She begs Arthur to ban the ritual, but Taliesin intervenes, saying that the peasants have few other sources of genuine joy and that it would be unfair of Arthur to dictate an individual’s innermost thoughts and beliefs. Gwenhwyfar says that a ruler must use their power to enforce right and wrong.
Arthur leads Gwenhwyfar to the edge of Camelot’s walls. He reflects on his promise and appears apprehensive at his betrayal. Gwenhwyfar is concerned that his head is filled with “pagan nonsense” and reminds him, “[W]hen you turned to the one true God, then did he give you that greatest of victories, so that you drove the Saxons forth from this island for all of time” (427). Arthur says there is no way to guarantee the security of any land forever. As they sit on the wall, they see Kevin riding up to the castle, accompanied by a mysterious figure they eventually recognize as Morgaine, who has been missing for five years. Morgaine does not respond to any questions about where she has been, saying only that she “had ill fortune […] on the road” (429).
Morgause finds herself focused on her cunning and precocious foster son, Gwydion. He demands that she dress in her finest clothing and order the kitchen to make elaborate dishes amuse her, and Morgause wonders if he has the Sight. Her guess is proven to be correct when he heralds the arrival of the Avalon barge, putting his odd requests into context. He comes with her to greet Viviane, Kevin, and Niniane. Kevin has now taken on the title of Merlin of Britain, as Taliesin is too old to do his duties. Niniane has completed her training as a priestess.
The talk turns to Morgaine, and Gwydion asks if they are discussing his mother. Viviane is frustrated, telling Gwydion she knows he has the Sight and that he should not mock it. Viviane tells Morgause that they have come to fetch Gwydion to give him “the ancient teachings and the secret wisdom in Avalon” (468). His background and budding talents suggest that he will be a powerful Druid and great ruler. Viviane tests Gwydion’s control over the Sight and watches as he falls into a trance. He predicts a future of “blood, poured out like the blood of sacrifice on the ancient altars, blood spilt on the throne” (470).
Gwenhwyfar agrees to meet Meleagrant about the dispute over the Summer Country. Morgaine tells Gwenhwyfar not to trust him, but she says that if he is truly her sister he will treat her with respect. When she arrives, she notices that Meleagrant has kept Leodegranz’s hall in poor condition. Unwilling to dine with him, she demands that her escort, Ectorius, take her to her chambers. When they arrive at their destination, Meleagrant suddenly pushes Ectorius down the stairs and locks Gwenhwyfar in a small, dirty room.
Hours pass before Meleagrant returns. Gwenhwyfar tries to escape, and Meleagrant tells her that he intends to take over the kingdom by forcibly marrying her. Gwenhwyfar initially tries to fight back, but when Meleagrant beats and rapes her, she concludes this is punishment for her feelings toward Lancelet: “Oh, but it is no more than I deserve…I who am not a faithful wife, but love another” (515).
Later, Meleagrant storms in, telling Gwenhwyfar to hide. He then collapses, dead from a wound to the head: Morgaine has sent Lancelet to save Gwenhwyfar. Overwhelmed with emotion, she asks Lancelet if he will help her change out of her ruined gown. To her surprise, he begins crying too, kissing her and telling her he is sorry for what she endured.
This will be the first Pentecost feast that Lancelet has attended in two years. Gwenhwyfar and Arthur miss him dearly, and Gwenhwyfar reflects on the sorrow that Morgaine’s actions caused. Arthur tries to comfort her by talking about their future child, saying that Gwenhwyfar might still have children. Gwenhwyfar says they are being punished for their night with Lancelet. She accuses Arthur of loving Lancelet more than he loves her, asking, “Can you say in truth that it was to give me pleasure, or was it for the pleasure of him you loved best of all—?” (547).
Arthur cannot give her a satisfactory answer, and Gwenhwyfar tells him that he should have called his son back from Lothian to live with them. Arthur is confused, informing her that he has no son. Gwenhwyfar tells him what Morgaine told her, and Arthur balks, beginning to put the pieces together. He fetches Morgaine and demands that she tell him if he has a son. As Gwenhwyfar curses Avalon, accusing Arthur of being corrupted by pagan practices, Morgaine admits that she had a son 10 months after the ritual and that he is safe in Avalon. Gwenhwyfar erupts at both of them, telling him Arthur’s secrecy about this has cursed his union with her.
The rising of the supposed Roman Emperor gives Arthur’s Pentecost feast a new weight as an opportunity to fortify his alliances. He also welcomes the chance to see Morgaine, whom he has not seen since her wedding. He proudly talks about Morgaine and Morgause’s duties as queens and near equality with their husbands—a thought that causes Gwenhwyfar to shudder. She still resents what Morgaine did to her and Lancelet.
Morgaine and Uriens present Uwaine to Arthur as a candidate for Companion. Arthur accepts, and Gwenhwyfar is jealous that Morgaine has two sons. Gareth approaches asking for Gwydion, but Morgaine brusquely responds that he is training in Avalon. Gareth asks if he is Lancelet’s son, and Morgaine excuses herself. She then has a hostile confrontation with Kevin, whom she has not seen since Viviane’s death. She calls him a traitor, but he tells her she cannot say that “when Viviane’s high seat is empty in Avalon” (617). Morgaine silently agrees, now understanding that she was given to Arthur in the Great Marriage so that she could influence his mind and policy. Kevin tells her that she must return to Avalon, and she says that she and Accolon are doing the work of the Isle from Uriens’s court.
Part 4: “The Prisoner in the Oak”
Part 4, Chapter 1 Summary
Morgaine is back in North Wales, bored and alone, missing Accolon, whom the Sight told her must gain Arthur’s trust. Morgaine creates a fine dinner for Uwaine, who will be returning from a campaign later in the evening. As the family waits for his arrival, Uriens asks her what she thinks of the oak grove. His priest, Father Eian, wants it razed to discourage pagan behavior. Morgaine convinces him to preserve it, but he tells her that the devout Avalloch may cut it down anyway when he takes the throne.
Uriens is helped to the dining hall, as he is still weak from a fever. To Morgaine’s surprise, Accolon returns with Uwaine. Uwaine tells them of his most recent military endeavor. He hopes that Morgaine can reduce the swelling of a scar on his face so that he might be handsome enough for Shana, a Cornish girl in Arthur’s court. Uwaine wants to marry Shana so that Cornwall and Tintagel will once again be in Morgaine’s hands. Uriens resolves to talk to Arthur about this the next time he sees him.
Part 4: “The Prisoner in the Oak”
Part 4, Chapter 4 Summary
The night before Pentecost, Gwenhwyfar frets over Galahad, who is to be made a knight at the feast. When the guests arrive, Arthur finds Morgaine and Uriens. Uriens tells Arthur that Accolon is now second in line for the throne. Galahad and Lancelet ask how Nimue is, but Morgaine can only say that she is presumed well.
Galahad takes his place between Arthur and Gwenhwyfar, and Arthur tells him he is excited to have him as a knight and a member of the court. The arrival of a mysterious young man who bears an incredible resemblance to Lancelet interrupts them. Morgause escorts the young man and introduces him as Morgaine’s son, Gwydion. Galahad is eager to make friends but takes offense when Gwydion jokes about hating him. Gwenhwyfar can’t help but think of the similarities between Gwydion and Morgaine: “[H]e actually took pleasure in the discomfort of the people around the table […] he was Morgaine’s son, if only in that touch of malice” (690).
The Companions discuss Galahad’s upcoming vigil, and Gwydion remarks that it is a different form of the pagan kingmaking rituals. As Galahad protests, Accolon mentions that he will ensure that they continue when he takes over Uriens’s throne.
As Morgaine prepares for bed, she begins to feel sick. She has a dream of finding a baby and wakes up horrified to realize she is pregnant. Morgaine is past the age where she can safely give birth and it is all too likely that the child is Accolon’s. Questioned about her lack of appetite at breakfast, she simply says she had too much wine to drink and excuses herself.
Kevin visits her in her chambers, telling her she was wrong to reproach Arthur about Excalibur. He tells her that since all Gods are one, Christianity has a place alongside Druidism. Morgaine retorts that Christianity has no tolerance for any of the other Gods. Kevin says this thinking is a symptom of a “deep change in the way men now look at the world, as if one truth should drive out another—as if whatever is not their truth, must be falsehood” (726). Morgaine disagrees, saying that Christianity’s intolerance will rid the world of any truth besides their own. Kevin asks her to put their differences aside and says that he will always love her. He tells her that the Goddess made Arthur king, and that if he was truly offending her will, she would remove his title.
Nimue begins the slow work of gaining Kevin’s trust. Since she spent most of her time in Avalon in seclusion, she is confident that he will not recognize her. She believes that as a beautiful young woman, she will easily seduce him and enact Morgaine’s plan. To her surprise, however, she forms a genuine connection with him, bonding over a shared love of music. However, Nimue remains determined and tells Kevin to meet her outside during the New Moon so that they can have sex. Kevin, being trained in the ways of Avalon, knows this time is significant but is too enamored to care. She is able to trick him into saying he is hers the moment the moon changes, which puts him in a trance. Nimue feels triumphant at her accomplishment but genuinely broken-hearted at the thought that she did such a cruel thing to someone she came to love.
Before Kevin is confined to the oak tree, he tells Morgaine that he has acted for the Goddess. He explains that “the day of Avalon is ended. […] Would you then take the Holy Regalia with you into that darkness, preserving it carefully against the dawning of a new day that now shall never be?” (800).
With the Companions on their respective Grail quests, Arthur stalks the castle. He worries that none of them will return but takes comfort in the presence of Mordred and Cai, who was too old to seek the Grail. Arthur asks Mordred to be the captain of his horses in Lancelet’s absence. Mordred tells Arthur that Camelot’s wartime achievements will cement its legacy. He asks for permission to seek horses from Spain and Africa, and Arthur briefly wonders if he is giving him too much power. Gwenhwyfar accuses Arthur of setting up Mordred for the throne, but he reminds her that the priests would not accept him due to his parentage. However, he asks if “it be better that no good of any kind should come from the sin [he] did with Morgaine” or if he should “be grateful that, since the sin was done and there’s no going back to innocence, God has given [him] a good son in return for that evil?” (833). He believes that Mordred will make a good king one day.
Slowly but surely, the knights begin returning. Many
had visions dissuading them from seeking out the
Grail.
Literature Sample
was the memory of her dream, Morgaine was tempted to step inside … she could hardly believe she would not see
Lancelet there, struck down by the magical brilliance of the Grail … but no. She had no business there, and she
would not intrude on their God; and if indeed the Grail was there, it had gone beyond her reach.
Yet the dream remained with her. Had it been sent as a warning? Lancelet was younger than she herself was … she
knew not how time ran in the outer world. Avalon, now, had gone so far into the mists that it might be with Avalon as
it had been with the fairy country when she was young -while a single year passed within Avalon, three or five or
even seven years might have run by in the outer world. And so what it had come to her to do should be done now,
while she could still come and go between the worlds.
She knelt before the Holy Thom, whispering a soft prayer to the Goddess, and asking leave of the tree; then she cut a
slip for planting. It was not the first time: in these last years, whenever one had come to Avalon and returned to the
outside world, wandering Druid or pilgrim priest … for a few of them could still come to the ancient chapel on
Avalon … she had sent with him a slip of the Holy Thom, so that it might still blossom in the world outside. But this
she must do with her own hands.
Never, except at Arthur’s crowning, had she set foot on the other island … except, perhaps, for that day when the
mists had opened, and Gwenhwy-far had somehow fallen or wandered through. But now, deliberately, she called the
barge, and when it was out in the Lake, sent it into the mists, so that when it glided forth into the sunlight again, she
could see the long shadow of the church lying over the Lake, and hear the soft tolling of a bell. She saw her followers
shrink from the sound, and knew that here, too, they would not follow her, nor set foot. So be it, then; the last thing
she wished for was to have the priests on that isle staring in fear and dread at the barge from Avalon. Unseen, they
glided toward the shore and unseen she stepped onto the land, watching the black-draped barge vanish again into the
mists. And then, the basket over her arm-like any old market woman or peddler come here on pilgrimage, she
thought- she went silently up the path from the shore.
Only a hundred years or less, certainly less in Avalon, that these worlds have diverged; yet already the world here is
different. The trees were different, and the paths, and she stopped, bewildered, at the foot of a little hill-surely there
was nothing like this on Avalon? She had somehow thought the land would be the same, only the buildings different,
for they were, after all, the same island, separated only by some magical change … but now she saw that they were
very different.
And then she saw, winding down the hill toward the little church, a procession of robed monks, and they bore with
them, toward the church, a body on its bier.
So I saw truly, then, even though I thought it a dream. She stopped, and as the monks brought the body to rest before
taking it into the church, she went forward and drew back the pall from the dead face.
Lancelet’s face was drawn and lined, far older than when they had parted … she did not want to think how much
older. But she saw that only for a moment; then what she saw on his face was only the sweet and marvelous look of
peace. He lay smiling, looking so far beyond her that she knew on what his dying eyes had rested.
She whispered, “So at last you found your Grail.”
One of the monks who carried him said, “Perhaps you knew him in the world, sister?” and she knew that in her dark
garb, he thought her one of them.
“He was a-a kinsman of mine.”
Cousin, lover, friend … but that was long ago. At the end we were priestess and priest.
“I thought as much,” said the monk, “for they called him Lancelet at the court of Arthur, in the old days, but here
among us we called him Galahad. He had been with us for many years, and he was made priest but a few days ago.”
So far you came in your search for a God who would not mock you, my cousin!
The monks who carried him raised him again to their shoulders. The one who had spoken with her said, “Pray for his
soul, sister,” and she bowed her head. She could not feel grief; not now, when she had seen the reflection of that
faraway light on his face.
But she would not follow him into the church. Here the veil is thin. Here Galahad knelt, and saw the light of the Grail
in the other chapel, the chapel on Avalon, and reached for it, reached through the worlds, and so died … .
And here at last Lancelet has come to follow his son.
Morgaine walked slowly along the path, half ready to abandon what she had come to do. What difference did it make
now? But as she paused, irresolute, an old gardener, kneeling at one of the beds of flowers behind the path, raised his
head and spoke to her. “1 know you not, sister, you are not one of those who dwell here,” he said. “Are you a
pilgrim?”
Not as the man thought; but so she was, in a way. “I seek the burial place of my kinswoman-she was the Lady of the
Lake-”
“Ah yes, that was many, many years ago, in the reign of our good King Arthur,” he said. “It lies yonder, where
pilgrims to the island may see it. And from it, the path leads up to the convent of the sisters, and if you are hungry,
sister, they will give you something to eat there.”
Has it come to this, that I look like a beggar? But the man had meant no harm, so she thanked him, and walked in the
direction he had pointed out.
Arthur had built for Viviane a noble tomb indeed. But what lay there was not Viviane; nothing lay there but bones,
slowly returning to the earth from which they had come … and all things at last give up their body and their spirit
into the keeping of the Lady again … .
Why had it made so much difference to her? Viviane was not there. Yet when she stood with bent head before the
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cairn, she was weeping.
After a time, a woman in a dark robe not unlike her own, with a white veil over her head, approached her. “Why do
you weep, sister? She who lies here is at peace and in God’s hands, she has no need of mourning. But maybe she was
one of your kin?”
Morgaine nodded, bending her head against the tears.
“We pray always for her,” said the nun, “for, though I do not know her name, she was said to be the friend and
benefactor of our good King Arthur in the days that were gone.” She lowered her head and murmured some prayer or
other, and even as she prayed, bells rang out, and Morgaine drew back. So, in place of the harps of Avalon, Viviane
had only these clanging bells and doleful psalms?
Never did I think I would stand side by side with one of these Christian nuns, joining with her in prayer. But then she
remembered what Lancelet had said in her dream.
Take this cup, you who have served the Goddess. For all the Gods are One …
“Come up to the cloister with me, sister,” said the nun, smiling and laying a hand on her arm. “You must be hungry
and weary.”
Morgaine went with her to the gates of their cloister, but would not go in. “I am not hungry,” she said, “but if I might
have a drink of water-”
“Of course.” The woman in black beckoned, and a young girl came and brought a pitcher of water, which she poured
into a cup. And she said, as Morgaine lifted it to her lips, “We drink only the water of the chalice well-it is a holy
place, you know.”
It was like Viviane’s voice in her ears: The priestesses drink only the water of the Sacred Well.
The nun and the young girl, robed in black, turned and bent their heads before a woman who came from the cloister,
and the nun who had guided her said, “This is our abbess.”
Morgaine thought, Somewhere I have seen her. But even as the thought crossed her mind, the woman said,
“Morgaine, you do not know me? We thought you long dead … ”
Morgaine smiled at her, troubled. “I am sorry-I do not-”
“No, you would not remember me,” said the abbess, “though I saw you, now and again, at Camelot; 1 was so much
younger. My name is Lionors. I was married to Gareth, and when all my children were grown, I came here-here to
end my days. Did you come to Lancelet’s funeral, then?” She smiled and said, “I should indeed have said Father
Galahad, but it is hard to remember, and now he is in Heaven it will not matter.” She smiled again. “I know not now
even who is King, or whether Camelot still stands-there is war in the land again, it is not as it was in Arthur’s time.
That all seems so very long ago,” she added with detachment.
“I came here to visit Viviane’s grave. She is buried here-do you remember?”
“I have seen the tomb,” said the abbess, “but it was before ever I came to Camelot.”
“I have a favor to beg of you,” Morgaine said, and touched the basket on her arm. “This is the Holy Thom that grows
on the hills of Avalon, where it is said that the foster-father of Christ struck his staff into the ground and it blossomed
there. I would plant a cutting of this thorn tree on her grave.”
“Plant it if you will,” said Lionors. “I cannot see how anyone could object to that. It seems right to me that it should
be here in the world, and not hidden away in Avalon.”
She looked at Morgaine, dismayed.
“Avalon! Have you come here from that unholy land?”
Morgaine thought. Once I would have been angry with her. “Unholy it is not, whatever the priests say, Lionors,” she
said gently. “Think-would the foster-father of Christ have stmck his staff there if the land had seemed to him evil? Is
not the Holy Spirit everywhere?”
The woman bowed her head. “You are right. I will send novices to help you with the planting.”
Morgaine would sooner have been alone, but she knew it was a kindly thought. The novices seemed no more than
children to Morgaine, girls of nineteen or twenty, so young that she wondered-forgetting that she herself had been
made priestess when she was eighteen-how they could possibly know enough of spiritual things to choose lives like
this. She had thought nuns in Christian convents would be sad and doleful, ever conscious of what the priests said
about the sinfulness of being bom women, but these were innocent and merry as robins, talking gaily to Morgaine of
their new chapel and bidding her rest her knees while they dug the hole for the cutting.
“And it is your kinswoman who is buried here?” asked one of the girls. “Can you read what it says? I never thought I
would leam to read, for my mother said it was not suitable, but when I came here, they told me 1 must be able to read
in the mass book, and so now 1 can read in Latin! Look,” she said proudly, and read: ” ‘King Arthur made this tomb
for his kinswoman and benefactress, the Lady of the Lake, slain by treachery at his court in Camelot’-I cannot read
the date, but it was a long time ago.”
“She must have been a very holy woman,” said another of the girls, “for Arthur, they say, was the best and the most
Christian of all kings. He would never have had any woman buried here unless she was a saint!”
Morgaine smiled; they reminded her of the girls in the House of Maidens. “I would not call her a saint, though I loved
her. In her day, there were those who called her a wicked sorceress.”
“King Arthur would never have a wicked sorceress buried here among holy people,” said the girl. “And as for
sorcery-well, there are ignorant priests and ignorant people, who are all too ready to cry sorcery if a woman is only a
little wiser than they are! Are you going to stay and take the veil here, Mother?” she asked, and Morgaine, for a
moment startled at the word, realized that they were speaking to her with the same deference and respect as any of
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her own maidens in the House of Maidens, as if she were an elder among them.
“I am vowed elsewhere, my daughter.”
“Is your convent as nice as this one? Mother Lionors is a kind woman,” the girl said, “and we are all very happy here-
once we had a woman among our sisters who had been a queen. And I know we will go to Heaven, all of us,” said the
girl with a smile, “but if you have taken vows elsewhere, I am sure that is a good place, too. Only I thought you might
perhaps want to stay here, so that you could pray for the soul of your kinswoman who lies buried here.” The girl rose
and dusted off her dark dress. “Now you may plant your cutting, Mother … or would you like me to set it in the
earth?”
“No, I will do it,” said Morgaine, and knelt to press the soft soil around the roots of the plant. As she rose, the girl
said, “If you wish, Mother, I will promise to come here and say a prayer every Sunday for your kinswoman.”
For some absurd reason, Morgaine felt that tears were coming to her eyes. “Prayer is always a good thing. I am
grateful to you, daughter.”
“And you, in your convent, wherever it may be, you must pray for us too,” said the girl simply, taking Morgaine’s
hand as she rose. “Here, Mother, let me brush the dirt from your gown. Now you must come and see our chapel.”
For a moment Morgaine was inclined to protest. She had sworn when last she left Arthur’s court that she would never
again enter any Christian church; but this girl was so much like one of her own young priestesses that she would not
profane the name by which the girl knew her God. She let the girl lead her inside the church.
In that other world, she thought, that church where the ancient Christians worship must stand on this very spot; some
holiness from Avalon must surely come through the worlds, through the mists … she did not kneel or cross herself,
but she bent her head before the high altar of the church; and then the girl tugged gently at her hand.
“Come,” she said. “The high altar is of God and I am a little afraid here always … but you have not seen our chapel-
the sisters’ chapel … come, Mother.”
Morgaine followed the young girl into the small side chapel. There were flowers here, armfuls of apple blossom,
before a statue of a veiled woman crowned with a halo of light; and in her arms she bore a child. Morgaine drew a
shaking breath and bowed her head before the Goddess.
The girl said, “Here we have the Mother of Christ, Mary the Sinless. God is so great and terrible I am always afraid
before his altar, but here in the chapel of Mary, we who are her avowed virgins may come to her as our Mother, too.
And look, here we have little statues of our saints, Mary who loved Jesus and wiped his feet with her hair, and
Martha who cooked dinner for him and scolded her sister when she would not cook with her -I like to think of Jesus
when he was a real man who would do something for his mother, when he changed the water into wine at that
wedding, so she wouldn’t be unhappy because there wasn’t enough wine for everyone. And here is a very old statue
that our bishop gave us, from his native country … one of their saints, her name is Brigid … ”
Morgaine looked on the statue of Brigid, and she could feel the power coming from it in great waves that permeated
the chapel. She bowed her head.
But Brigid is not a Christian saint, she thought, even if Patricius thinks so. That is the Goddess as she is worshipped
in Ireland. And I know it, and even if they think otherwise, these women know the power of the Immortal. Exile her
as they may, she will prevail. The Goddess will never withdraw herself from mankind.
And Morgaine bowed her head and whispered the first sincere prayer she had ever spoken in any Christian church.
“Why, look,” said the novice, as she brought her out of doors into the daylight, “we have one of the Holy Thom here
too, not the one you planted on your kinswoman’s grave.”
And I thought I could meddle in this? Morgaine thought. Surely, the holy thing had brought itself from Avalon,
moving, as the hallows were withdrawn from Avalon, into the world of men where it was most needed. It would
remain hidden in Avalon, but it would be shown here in the world as well. “Yes, you have the Holy Thom, and in
days to come, as long as this land shall last, every queen shall be given the Holy Thorn at Christmas, in token of her
who is queen in Heaven as in Avalon.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Mother, but thank you for your blessing,” said the young novice. “The
abbess is awaiting you in the guesthouse-she will take breakfast with you. But would you like, perhaps, to stay in the
Lady’s chapel first and pray awhile? Sometimes when you are alone with the Holy Mother, she can make things clear
to you.”
Morgaine nodded, unable to speak, and the girl said, “Very well. When you are ready, just come to the guesthouse.”
She pointed, and Morgaine went back into the chapel and bowed her head, and giving way at last, sank to her knees.
“Mother,” she whispered, “forgive me. I thought I must do what I now see you can do for yourself. The Goddess is
within us, yes, but now I know that you are in the world too, now and always, just as you are in Avalon and in the
hearts of all men and women. Be in me too now, and guide me, and tell me when I need only let you do your will …
She was silent, kneeling, for a long time, her head bowed, but then, as if compelled, she looked up, and as she had
seen it on the altar of the ancient Christian brotherhood in Avalon, as she had seen it when she bore it in Arthur’s hall,
she saw a light on the altar, and in the Lady’s hands- and the shadow, only the shadow, of a chalice …
It is in Avalon, but it is here. It is everywhere. And those who have need of a sign in this world will see it always.
There was a sweet scent that did not come from the flowers; and for an instant it seemed to Morgaine that it was
Igraine’s voice that whispered to her … but she could not hear the words … and Igraine’s hands that touched her
head. As she rose, blinded by tears, suddenly it rushed over her, like a great light.
No, we did not fail. What I said to comfort Arthur in his dying, it was all true. I did the Mother’s work in Avalon until
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at last those who came after us might bring her into this world. 1 did not fail. I did what she had given me to do. It
was not she but I in my pride who thought I should have done more.
Outside the chapel, sunlight lay on the land, and there was a fresh scent of spring in the air. Where the apple trees
moved in the morning breeze, she could see the blossoms that would bear fruit in their season.
She turned her face toward the guesthouse. Should she go there and breakfast with the nuns, speak perhaps of the old
days at Camelot? Morgaine smiled gently. No. She was filled with the same tenderness for them as for the budding
apple trees, but that time was past. She turned her back on the convent and walked down to the Lake, along the old
path by the shore. Here was a place where the veil lying between the worlds was thin. She needed no longer to
summon the barge-she need only step through the mists here, and be in Avalon.
Her work was done.