Chapter 49
Forty-Nine
The great hall was outfitted with trestle tables and a freshly made batch of twisted wax candles. A space had been cleared for performances and dancing. In the center of the Round Table, with armed guards to protect it, the grail was prominently displayed.
The Corbenic retinue made their entrance and Guinevere and Arthur ushered them through the sea of guests.
Elaine was delivered directly to the dais where she began to inspect the grail.
I was eager to connect with my old friend and observe her reaction, but Gawain and I had been pulled to the corner on pressing business.
“Could the dragon talk, Lancelot?” Yvain and Laudine’s son was tugging on my arm, surrounded by a gaggle of other children. “Did he say anything to you?”
I turned to Gawain. “You know, I don’t remember. Gawain, did the dragon say anything?”
“He said it’s past Olwen’s bedtime.”
“Aww, come now! He didn’t say that!”
“I believe he did,” I said.
“Get to the part where my mom killed him!”
I felt a hand on my shoulder. The children were looking behind me in awe.
“What’s all the racket over here?”
Elaine wore a simple white gown with open sleeves. Her dark curls were held back by a garland of lilies. I gave her a hug.
“Elaine!”
“How very good to see you!” She pulled back to regard me. “You look both different and the same.”
“If that’s a compliment, then I thank you.”
“I believe it is. You’ve seen a bit of the world now and it shows. Me, on the other hand. This is my first time off the island in years. I think I may faint.”
“Please don’t, I’d have to catch you, and we’d both hate that. How are the Distant Isles?”
“The same as far as I know. We’ve been keeping to ourselves even more lately.” She nodded to Brisen, who extended her hand for me to kiss. “We were sent the news about Galehaut. I am so sorry.”
I gave a solemn nod, fighting the sinking feeling in my chest. “You know Sir Gawain,” I said.
“Of course,” said Elaine. “The one who restored the grail lance. A pleasure.” Gawain kissed her hand and Brisen’s.
Elaine was distracted by something at the back of her leg.
A little boy was pulling at the billows of her gown.
He had ice-blue eyes, a pert mouth and long eyelashes.
As Elaine ran a hand through his gold curls, I felt a place in me soften.
“Lancelot, this is my son. Galahad.”
I smiled down at him, and the boy pressed his face into her dress. I puzzled through both the timing and the circumstance. It made no sense.
“He’s a bit shy,” she said, caressing his cheek.
Brisen scooped him up in her strong, ample arms. “We’re still in awe,” she said, tapping him on the nose.
“That the gods blessed Corbenic with such a cherub.” Leaning in, she added, “Elaine has never lain with a man. As a midwife, I’ve not seen anything like it.
She was suddenly pregnant, and suddenly full term, and suddenly the infant had grown into a boy, so rapidly. ”
“It sounds like your own rapid maturation,” Elaine added.
“A miracle then,” I cheered, borrowing the term I’d learned long ago from my cousins.
“A miracle who is up far too late,” Brisen said, lifting the boy’s sagging body higher on her hip.
I watched as Galahad rested his head on Brisen’s shoulder.
The boy sleepily ran a hand along the jewels of her collar, tapping each one with his delicate finger.
Had I been like this at his age, clinging drowsily to Viviana?
I had no memory of such a time, but I sensed that she had soothed me in the same way.
What would it be like to be a father, to raise and nurture a son? Such a path was impossible for me, I knew. But a part of me still longed for it. As I gazed into Galahad’s sleepy eyes I felt a sudden urge to protect him.
“He must be exhausted from the long journey. You all must be.”
“We are,” agreed Elaine. “And it wasn’t for naught, to see you,” she said. “But—” Her mouth tightened.
“What is it? Is it your father? Is he all right?”
“My father is fine,” she said, grabbing my hands. “But that cup? It’s not the grail.”
I scanned her face for signs of jest.
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were.”
I turned to Gawain, who looked equally dismayed.
“If that’s not the grail, then what is it?” he asked.
“A finely wrought goblet. Fitting for any royal home, but most certainly not the grail.” She summoned the cup from one of her party and pointed out its features.
“This cup is inlaid with carnelians. It’s beautiful. But the grail has jewels from each descendant. Opal, sapphire, topaz, moonstone…”
Her lips kept moving but I could no longer hear her. The air went thin, and the room began to buzz.
“But these smaller multi-colored jewels around the base…,” Gawain argued in vain.
“I can see how you might mistake this cup for the grail,” said Elaine. “But I assure you, it is not.”
“This can’t be,” I said, voice weak with shock and humiliation.
“So much for our prophecies,” Gawain jeered.
“I’m afraid it’s the truth. I just told Arthur. He wanted me to tell you first before they make the announcement.”
I looked around the hall. Hundreds of people had gathered to celebrate what amounted to a false achievement.
“Elaine, I am so sorry,” I said.
“Do not apologize. You risk your life each day to protect the old ways, and I hope you will not give up on this quest. The grail can still fall into the wrong hands.”
As the news sunk in, I felt a rising panic. I’d come to trust my knightly instincts, but I’d gravely miscalculated. If I could be this wrong about the grail, what else was I wrong about?
“So, it was a coincidence?” I turned to Gawain. “That a look-alike cup happened to be in the valley?”
Gawain shook his head. “No. This is Morgan’s doing. I’m sure of it. This is what she does. She plays games, sows chaos.”
I had fallen for her trap, played perfectly into her hand. Now I had humiliated myself in front of the entire kingdom. The diversion nearly killed us, and we were still no closer to the grail.
As I ran my hands through my hair in exasperation, Elaine caught sight of my opal ring.
“A gift from the sisterhood?” she asked. “It is stunning.”
I twisted the ring off my finger. I was not worthy of such a sacred jewel. “It was my mother’s. Your namesake. Have it.”
“Don’t be silly,” she scoffed.
“If I can’t return the grail, I don’t deserve this.”
She demurred, but Galahad lifted his head from Brisen’s shoulder. He lunged towards the ring.
I grabbed his little hand in mine. The ring was too big for his tiny fingers. I gently folded it into his outstretched palm and kissed him on the forehead.
“For you, Galahad,” I said, then retired to my chambers.