From the Chronicles of Avalon

HOW ARTHUR’S FUTURE IS DECIDED

“You can’t allow it, Igrayne.” Vivian held her sister’s hands in her own. Her sister didn’t appear to hear and her gaze was lost in the battle between the bright orange hues and the dark blue that painted the sunset. “Some day you’ll have to react, step out of that dream you’ve submerged yourself in to escape the pain and face the enemies that threaten your family and our world.”

“My world died with Gorlois.” The Lady of Tintagel’s voice sounded weary and forlorn. “And I don’t know what you’re referring to when you speak of my family, sister. Whom do I have to save? Where do my loyalties lie? With Uther, my husband and king, Lord of these lands and father of my son? Or with you? Tell me, dear sister, where were you when Pendragon made me his? Where were you when the pain destroyed my sanity? What family are you speaking of, Vivian? You who only have allegiance to Avalon?”

“Damn you, Igrayne!” Vivian was growing impatient. “You have children to care for. Are you going to let Merlin tear little Arthur from your arms?”

“He isn’t so little anymore and it’s not in my power to keep him with me. I know you, Vivian, and I know that despite the affection you might have for me, my feelings are not the reason for your concern and anxiousness. If it’s not Merlin, it will be you who takes Arthur away to make him the next leader of the cause of Avalon. Just because it looks like I’m not paying attention to your arguments and I seem absent during the conversation doesn’t mean that I’m an idiot, Vivian. I know full well I’ve already lost the boy.”

“Igrayne, Igrayne, don’t be unfair. I am not Merlin and although it’s true that I need Arthur in this battle for the future of our world, it’s also true that you travel in my heart. In Avalon there will always be a place for you, my sister. You won’t have to be separated from your son. On the contrary, you can watch him grow up free and wise. Come, Igrayne, it’s in your hands to put an end to all this inanity. Let’s correct, here and now, the evil that has been done and let’s work for the future we want.”

“What do we want? Who wants it?” Igrayne’s voice was getting louder. It was taking on a new confidence. “Why think about the future, when what one wants is the past? No, Vivian, I’m sorry but this is your battle. It’s you against Merlin. Don’t look to me for alliances and peace accords. I lost my war a long time ago. I wish you luck, sister. Do what you must do, but don’t deny me the right to withdraw from the world after a defeat like the one I must now suffer.”

Vivian could not hide her disappointment at her sister’s position. She’d always believed she could count on Igrayne’s help, if not out of loyalty to the beliefs of Avalon, at least because of the desire for revenge against Merlin and Uther. The druid saw how one of the main elements of her plan was vanishing into thin air. Without the queen’s support she would have to confront Merlin face to face.

The wise woman did not want to take the first step. She preferred to wait until the wizard acted and showed his cards. However, the manifest passivity of Igrayne toward the conflict forced her to change her strategy. Merlin could come to an agreement with Uther as to the day of departure without anyone else knowing, when it was too late. The only thing she was certain of was that the departure would not take place before the celebration of the boy’s birthday. Vivian had to act without delay, even with the risk that her haste could have an undesirable effect. Time was working against her because the matter had to be resolved before the nobles who had been invited to the celebration started arriving at the castle. The publicity surrounding the confrontation only favored Merlin and he already had a big enough advantage.

Measuring every word with care, the wise woman began to weave her web. With apparent innocence, in sight of everyone so as not to create suspicion, she began to take advantage of the moments when Arthur was present to tell beautiful stories of past times when the ancient gods sometimes demanded harsh sacrifices from those who lived in Britain, who were often laughed at thanks to the astuteness and wisdom of the druids of Avalon. The little prince listened, enthralled. Little Morgana also showed great interest in the legends their aunt recounted for them in a soft, melodious voice. The descriptions were so beautiful and well organized that the two children felt they were part of the story and even rough Uther was drawn into the narrative. Wise Vivian let stories of increasing enchantment fall on the ears of her nephew. Sometimes she even sought the participation of Merlin. The druid abandoned the initial air of coy indifference she’d shown with the wizard to now pretend a certain complicity with him, at times speaking to him with a soft voice and an innocent expression.

“Do you remember, Merlin, how that story went that you used to tell me about the way the wise ones of Avalon ended the supposed spell of the Morrígna, which forced the chieftain and people of Cameliard to plow their lands without stopping, only to see how all the furrows would close up behind them?”

Or she invited him to participate in the conversation, making him the main character of the story.

“Do you remember that you were the one who deciphered the relationship between the flight of birds and the proximity of thunderstorms, unmasking the trickery of the ancient priests who used their knowledge to make us believe in magic and their powers?”

Merlin looked at her intensely. He knew the druid’s change in attitude was not an accident and tried to discover the ploys that were being forged in Vivian’s head. He knew her astuteness and tenacity well enough not to think her new behavior, so kind, sophisticated, and intimate, was not related to her desire to achieve the goals that had brought her to Tintagel. He would gladly have avoided participating in that game and at first tried to free himself from the wise woman’s astute maneuvers with scant monosyllables. But he soon realized it was useless. Vivian’s scheme was so well planned that it was Arthur himself who reacted to his evasive answers with insistent questions.

Text © Heirs of Begoña Caamaño

Translation © Kathleen March