I, Morgana (5 page)

I know I am in the wrong, and I hate that I’ve been caught out. I can think of only one way to redeem myself. “I can change the future if only I can change the past. Teach me how to cross time, Merlin, and Uther will live to fight on against the invaders.” Even through my distress I am angry that the mage seems to hold me responsible for what he has foreseen after Uther’s death.

Merlin shakes his head. “You can change nothing,” he says, “for our time is now and what’s done is done. I cannot move backward or forward through time—and neither can you, Morgana, for all you might think that trying will make it so.”

“Then continue to instruct me so that I can learn wisdom enough to save us all.” I can’t help feeling impatient with the old man. Uther is dead. Surely the future is all that matters now? “I swear I’ll be a good leader, Merlin. I swear I’ll do all in my power to repel the invaders and make our kingdom strong.”

Merlin looks at me with a strong and steady gaze. But his eyes are hard as flint. “No,” he says softly. “You are too wayward, too unreliable. I have long suspected it, but I hoped that under my tuition you would learn to let your mind guide your heart rather than the other way ’round. Your deed this day has proved my error in believing that change is possible.” He shakes his head, staring past me into the distance, seeing something there that seems to give him comfort, for his expression softens into almost a smile. “But perhaps it’s not too late after all. There is one other …”

I am filled with dread. “Who?” I ask, although I already know the answer.

Merlin folds his arms and presses his lips together.

“You can’t mean Arthur!” I shout. But Merlin won’t look at me.

“You can’t choose him over me!” I am panicking now; I am determined to change Merlin’s mind. “Arthur’s too young. He’s not ready; he’ll never be ready. He doesn’t understand magic. He can’t do half the things that I can.”

“I have enough magic for both of us.”

“But he’s slow. How can he rule a kingdom when he takes forever to make up his mind about something, anything at all, let alone something really important?”

“He’s slow because he looks at every angle of a question, he doesn’t just follow his heart or act on impulse, as you do. He’s steady. Reliable. He may be young, but he is high born and he has the good of our nation at heart. He is also fast acquiring knowledge of the art of war that will help to keep us safe. He has a sense of duty and of justice that seems to be lacking in you, Morgana. He will listen before he speaks and think before he acts.”

“But he’s not the rightful heir. I am, by the will of my father, and by your will too, for why else would you have schooled me so diligently in magic and in the ways of the world?” I will not let my little brother usurp my position without a fight.

Merlin shakes his head. His next words pierce my heart with an arrow’s deadly sting.

“Perhaps this day was destined all along, to show me my error in trusting you, for ’tis true the brilliance of your fool’s gold has blinded me to the true worth of the gold that might yet save our kingdom.” His eyes lose focus as he stares past me. “Perhaps this is why Uther begged me to change him into the likeness of Gorlois while your father was away waging war against the High King’s men?” he mutters. “I should have realized earlier that it wasn’t only because he wanted to lie with Igraine and slake his lust. It was so they could make a child together, a child destined to be the one true ruler of all Britain.”

“No!” I clap my hands over my ears so that I will not have to hear any more. The world stands still as Merlin’s words echo through my mind. “You tricked my mother into lying with Uther so that Arthur could be born to take my place?” I back away from him in my terror. I can hardly speak for the pain of Merlin’s betrayal. “Did you also ensure that my father would be killed in battle so my mother could marry the High King, and make Arthur their legitimate heir?” Having trusted Merlin in everything it is hard to believe that he could have acted against me, and against my father, with such treachery.

The mage stays silent, and I understand why. I am filled with rage, and a pain so vast that everything around me turns black with my anger and despair.

“I’ll pay you back for this, Merlin, I swear it. Even if it takes forever, I’ll make you regret what you’ve done!” My throat scrapes raw as I scream my threat aloud.

But Merlin is not here to hear it. He has disappeared. And I am left alone.

As I’d feared, my absence from the castle was noted, although the rumpus following the news of Uther’s death meant that I was not reprimanded for it—at least, not at first. Finally, my mother sends for me. As soon as I appear, she begins to berate me for my insolence; worse, she tells me that she intends to fulfill Uther’s wish that Arthur inherit the crown, and that I must marry and go to live far away.

At that, my bitterness spills over. “Arthur is a bastard. He was conceived by trickery and out of wedlock. He has no right to my realm!”

“What?” My mother puts her hands to her ears in a vain effort to block what she is hearing. But I’ve given Merlin’s words some thought and I know that what I am saying is true.

I raise my voice. “Merlin told me. He said that he’d changed Uther into the likeness of my father because Uther lusted after you, and wished to lie with you. Did you never wonder how it was that on the last night of my father’s life, while you lay with him, he was also killed waging war against Uther’s men?”

“No!” she whispers. “No, that’s not how it was. He was killed after he’d been with me.” Her face has gone deathly pale. I wonder if all along she might have suspected the truth. After all, she must have noticed some differences between husband and usurper in the intimacy of the marital bed. But if so, she is not prepared to admit it.

“Get out of my sight,” she hisses. “I will not hear these lies.”

I do not see her again after that, for she breaks down in a storm of weeping, and thereafter keeps to her bed with only her ladies in attendance. Everyone thinks she is distraught over Uther’s death—only I suspect the true cause of her distress.

I had hoped, after the care and affection I had bestowed on Arthur, that love and loyalty might prompt him to acknowledge my right to inherit the realm of my father even if not the whole of Britain. I should have known that his ambition, once awakened, would grow to a sense of entitlement, and so it has.

I am present, though concealed, when he meets with Merlin in the forest, and Merlin tells him of his destiny. I witness his joy and, for one fleeting moment, his absolute triumph that I have been put aside and that he has won the crown, before he composes his face into due solemnity as befits the occasion.

“I always told Morgana she couldn’t be a queen and rule a kingdom, but she wouldn’t listen to me,” he says proudly.

“It is up to you to convince her that you are a worthy choice, even if you are still but a child,” the old man mutters. I wonder if he is having second thoughts, for he seems a little shamefaced about it all.

“She will soon find out that I am more than her equal,” Arthur boasts.

“Do not underestimate her, Arthur. She may be proud, and she may lack judgment, but she is also talented and very clever. If you can win her goodwill, she may help you rule the kingdom wisely and well, at least until you are old enough to rule alone.”

Arthur’s happy countenance becomes a scowl. “I have you to help me, Merlin. I shan’t need Morgana.”

“She can help you when I am not here.”

“No.” Arthur lifts his chin in defiance. “She’s always telling me what to do and ordering me about. I won’t have it. This kingdom was my father’s, and now it is mine. And I will make of it what I must, without Morgana’s help.”

Merlin looks at him and shakes his head. I know then that my fate is sealed. He hasn’t told Arthur why he’s changed his mind about me; perhaps he knows that I’m hiding close by, and is trying to spare my feelings. Nevertheless I stay hidden for a long time after they leave the forest, trying to find consolation for all that I have lost; seeking comfort for my raging, grieving heart.

In the days that follow, I realize that for Merlin it’s as if I no longer exist. And for me, it feels as though I have lost another father as well as the kingdom.

Merlin may have decided my fate, but it soon becomes clear that everyone at court still believes that I am my father’s heir and I do my utmost to foster that belief. Arthur, of course, is furious that no one will take him seriously, and Merlin finally resorts to trickery in order to persuade them all. One morning, a sword appears in the castle courtyard. It’s thrust into a huge rock up to its hilt, and it quickly becomes apparent that none of Uther’s men is able to draw it out. Even I, using all my power and all the magic I have learned from Merlin, am unable to shift it by as much as a hair’s breadth. Not that I let Merlin see me try! I go in secret, at night, and I twist and tug until my hands are bruised and bleeding, but Merlin’s magic ensures that the sword won’t budge.

As word of the sword spreads, it becomes quite a competition. Barons and kings begin to flock from all parts of Britain to try to retrieve it, for it is a handsome weapon. The fact that it’s embedded in stone speaks of its magical qualities, while its hilt, which is set with precious jewels, is sufficient to grace any nobleman’s armaments and promises a potential fortune for any landless knight. It is indeed a possession to be coveted, but all who come fail in their attempt to release it from its sheath of stone.

With my mother still in seclusion, it falls to me to receive them graciously and play the hostess. And of course I try to deflect them from the sword even while I ponder its purpose. I preside at high table, and arrange feasts and amusements for their entertainment, although my efforts are undercut by Arthur, who struts around demanding their attention.

Once there are enough important noblemen at court, Merlin sends out word of a tournament, with a huge prize to be won at the end of it. I suspect that the prize is only an incentive to keep the noblemen in attendance and that Merlin has more than a tournament in mind. Although I’ve had no dealings with the mage since the day he turned away from me and set his course with Arthur, I know him well and I fear his cunning.

I realize that the game is in play when Merlin comes to court and, for the first time, appears in public at Arthur’s side. He announces that the sword embedded in the stone is a test, and that only the true-born High King of all Britain will succeed in pulling it free. Of course this is a signal for knights and kings alike to redouble their efforts, all without success. The tournament, so Merlin says, will settle the question once and for all.

To my amazement (and Arthur’s disgust) he is deemed not old enough to take part in the tournament. Instead, he is assigned to his friend Sir Kay as his squire, and so it becomes Arthur’s responsibility to arm him. But Kay’s sword inexplicably goes missing, and it doesn’t take me long to understand why when—in front of several noblemen and to their great surprise—Arthur pulls the magical sword out of the stone and hands it over to his friend to use.

I have to admit it’s a good trick; I admire it although I hate what happens next, as all those present, prompted by Merlin, fall to their knees and proclaim Arthur the High King of all Britain.

News of this miracle spreads. The tournament comes to an abrupt halt as everyone rushes to the stone to witness it for themselves. Time and again Arthur is asked to replace the sword and pull it out. Some of the barons, and several of the attendant kings, ask him to replace the sword so that they themselves can have another try at freeing it. None succeeds, save Arthur. Finally, there is a great commotion as they all assemble to kneel before him and swear an oath of fealty.

But for all that, I hear some muttering among them later. Not all are happy about having a mere boy as their ruler. And I play a part in their doubting. After Arthur’s triumph, I leave the court. I travel east across the southern country, reminding kings and barons that I am my father’s rightful heir by birth and training. And I ask for their support against Arthur, the usurper. While in their courts and households I discuss with them the vulnerability of the kingdom caused by the death of Uther, and the dangers of installing a young and untried boy as king. We discuss battle strategy, and the overriding need for unity to combat the threat of the growing numbers of raiding parties landing on our shores. I do my best to bind the men to my cause.

At the same time, I use my knowledge to help the women of the court with healing, and birthing, and any other domestic tasks I am called on to perform, for I believe women wield a greater influence than is generally acknowledged. Although I’m usually received with suspicion at first, by the time I leave each demesne I know that the inhabitants, both high and low born, are coming around to my way of thinking.

All is going well, and I am garnering support, until Arthur realizes what I am doing. I am staying with Bagdemagus, King of Gore, when Arthur sends a company of guards to bring me back to the castle. Although I appeal to Bagdemagus, and he is sympathetic to my cause, in the end he will not gainsay Arthur’s command and so I am forced to return, in ignominy and as a captive, to Tintagel.

When I am brought before my brother, I find Merlin standing beside him. I face them both and my anger spills over.

“How dare you arrest me and drag me back here like a common criminal!”

Arthur takes a step backward, seemingly unnerved by my fury. I am tempted to try to transform him into the mouse he once wanted to be, but a glance at Merlin changes my mind. I glare at him before turning my attention back to Arthur.

“Not content with usurping my kingdom, you now treat me like the lowliest and least worthy of your subjects.”

Perhaps taking comfort from Merlin’s proximity, Arthur draws a breath and puffs out his chest. “
My
kingdom, Morgana. Mine, despite what you’ve been telling my people as you’ve travelled around spreading your poison. If you were anyone else, I would have you tried for treason and locked away—or even beheaded. As you are my half-sister, I shall forgive you this once. You may continue to live here quietly in my castle where I can keep watch over you. But have no doubt about what will happen to you should you try, in any way, to undermine my right to rule my kingdom at any time in the future. Death will be your fate, for the safety and the unity of my kingdom are paramount.” He glances at Merlin, as if seeking his approval. The mage nods slightly, and Arthur smiles.

I am speechless with rage, and with pain. If I were a man, I would challenge Arthur to a duel. My fists clench in impotent fury. Merlin frowns a warning:
Say nothing, and accept your fate
. But I will not—not ever! Nevertheless, I bow in obeisance to my brother before leaving the room. I may be beaten—for the moment—but I will wait, and I will watch, and eventually, I will reclaim my kingdom. I intend to fulfill my promise to my father; I intend also to have my revenge on all who have betrayed me.

To ensure my obedience, Arthur sends heralds around the southern country to announce that Merlin is his adviser now, and to quote the mage’s prophecy: Only he, Arthur, has the power to keep the kingdom safe, and once the invaders are routed, he will found a new kingdom more bright and glorious than any that has come before. At the same time as praising Arthur the heralds belittle me, pointing out that I, as a mere woman, have not the wits, courage, strength or skill to rule, or to protect the kingdom against the raiding parties that continue to beset us. People believe what they are told, and they all turn against me.

My heart hardens with hatred even while I am forced to admit that, if our roles had been reversed, I might well have done exactly as Arthur has. Nevertheless, his treatment of me is a grievous hurt considering how close we once were, and how I loved, sheltered and protected him when he was a child. I am furious at being thwarted in this way; I am full of bitterness and resentment. I cannot forgive Merlin for his betrayal of all I hold dear, nor can I forgive Arthur for so willingly stepping into my place, usurping my position and my heritage, and denigrating me in the eyes of all those who once looked up to me. I shall never forget their treachery. And I vow to myself that I will never trust anyone ever again.

While Arthur becomes the acclaimed lord and king of the southern country, Merlin becomes his puppet master. The pity is that no one else can see what’s really going on. Merlin is too clever for them while I, who was once schooled by him and can see behind his tricks and spells, have been cast aside—by Merlin, by my once-beloved brother, by my mother, and also by my stupid sister. Morgause is no longer at court, having wed Lot of Lothian and gone off to the north, where she’s given birth to her first child and is expecting another. My mother has also departed; she has taken refuge with the nuns at far away Amesbury Abbey. Apparently she professes great piety although her prayers would choke in her throat if there was any justice in this world or the next.

I am left alone at court, carefully guarded and watched by Arthur and his men lest I continue my campaign to destabilize his rule. Mostly, the courtiers ignore me, being more concerned with demonstrating their loyalty to Arthur than showing friendship to me. It is a sad and lonely time, but the flame of my anger keeps me warm, and vigilant. Although I know I could become a bird and fly to freedom if I chose to do so, I am not sure where to go, for this is the only home I know and it is mine by right. Of course I could marry someone, as Arthur has pressed me to do on more than one occasion. But while marriage would give me a home, it would also signal the end of my dreams for the future. And so I conduct myself with decorum while I wait, although I sometimes fly about the castle in the guise of a swallow, to garner information and keep an eye on what is going on.

 Finally, an opportunity arises for me to take action: Arthur announces the date of his coronation. “Of course you’ll come, Morgana, as will my mother and Morgause, but Merlin will attend me. You may sit to the side, with the women,” he says. The pain is so great it is as if rats gnaw at my vitals. What hurts most is the thought that the oath I swore to my father has come to naught.

I make a silent vow that I will not go to witness his triumph, this celebration that marks the loss of my kingdom. I begin to pack up my belongings while I wait for my chance to escape. I select everything with care for I will have to carry whatever I take on a journey of many miles, for I need to disappear from Arthur’s sight.