wicked Vivian ensorceled him, but she could not murder his spirit—that was beyond her powers—and it still lives on.”
The tomb was featureless save for a single iron door. It swung open noiselessly at their approach. The sorceress, without hesitation, passed through it. Bradamant, after a moment’s hesitation, a shudder of superstitious foreboding, followed. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she was surrounded by an impenetrable mist of light, a luminous, opaque fog, and heard a voice that she knew must be Merlin’s. It seemed to come from the air itself, from every direction indiscriminately.
Welcome, most noble Lady, and may your God favor your every desire.
“Thank you, my lord,” Bradamant replied, not knowing what else to say, but rightly believing that common courtesy was never inappropriate. She did not know where to look while speaking; the misty illumination was disorienting. She held her hand near her face; it was invisible. Nor was there was there any sign of Melissa. “It’s, ah, nice to be here.”
I’m glad you like it. I look forward to seeing it from your vantage some day. I understand Vivian did a fine job. How is the weather?
“Rather dreary, my lord. It was beginning to drizzle when I arrived.”
I can tell you that sounds wonderful to someone who has to be dusted every few decades. However, I’m wasting your valuable time with this idle chitchat. There’s something far more important that I must tell you.
“Tell me, my lord?”
You, indeed, my dear Bradamant, and here it is, ready or not: From your womb shall spring children destined to bring honor not only to Italia but to all mankind. Two perfect bloodlines, yours and Rashid’s, each having originated in ancient Troy, are to be blended within you to produce the greatest of all the dynasties that have ever existed between the Indus, the Tagus, the Ister and the Nile, between the Antarctic and the Great Bear. Your posterity will include marquises, dukes, popes and emperors. From you shall spring the hundreds of generals and thousands of dauntless knights who by sword and wit will reclaim for Italia all her vanquished honor. The Golden Age will again live, under the august, just and holy rulers who shall be your descendants. In order to bring about this edict, which has been proclaimed by Heaven itself, which from the beginning of time has decreed that you be Rashid’s wife, continue your way with courage, remembering always that nothing will prevent God’s will from being done.
“But Rashid is a paynim paladin, Lord Merlin, an unbeliever, and I am Christian. Even God must know that there will be certain difficulties.”
Turning such a great knight to your faith will be one of the keystones of Agramant’s downfall and the foundation of the Pax Charlemagne.
“I didn’t know that you were such an avid supporter of the Christian cause, Lord Merlin.”
Heaven forfend! It’s only my affection for Arthur that compels me to take the Christian side over the Moors, at least in this case. Were it not for the sake of his memory, I’d probably back the Druids, wherever they are now. But I can see that I have a reason even greater than posterity: your love for Rashid and his love for you.
“He loves me?” she whispered, her heart thrumming within her armored breast like a captive hummingbird.
Oh dear. You didn’t know? Well, I’m probably giving away too much, but . . .
“I hardly know what to say, my lord!”
I don’t suppose there is much that I expect you to say. Trust in your God, no matter how bad things may seem, and everything will turn out for the best. And, Bradamant, my dear . . .
“Yes, my lord?”
Well, I was just going to say, if you happen to be in the neighborhood again some time, stop by and say hello, will you?
“Of course, my lord!”
There was no reply; the light dimmed and Bradamant found that she was alone with Melissa, who was just closing a huge leather-bound volume. They were outside the
The tomb was featureless save for a single iron door. It swung open noiselessly at their approach. The sorceress, without hesitation, passed through it. Bradamant, after a moment’s hesitation, a shudder of superstitious foreboding, followed. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she was surrounded by an impenetrable mist of light, a luminous, opaque fog, and heard a voice that she knew must be Merlin’s. It seemed to come from the air itself, from every direction indiscriminately.
Welcome, most noble Lady, and may your God favor your every desire.
“Thank you, my lord,” Bradamant replied, not knowing what else to say, but rightly believing that common courtesy was never inappropriate. She did not know where to look while speaking; the misty illumination was disorienting. She held her hand near her face; it was invisible. Nor was there was there any sign of Melissa. “It’s, ah, nice to be here.”
I’m glad you like it. I look forward to seeing it from your vantage some day. I understand Vivian did a fine job. How is the weather?
“Rather dreary, my lord. It was beginning to drizzle when I arrived.”
I can tell you that sounds wonderful to someone who has to be dusted every few decades. However, I’m wasting your valuable time with this idle chitchat. There’s something far more important that I must tell you.
“Tell me, my lord?”
You, indeed, my dear Bradamant, and here it is, ready or not: From your womb shall spring children destined to bring honor not only to Italia but to all mankind. Two perfect bloodlines, yours and Rashid’s, each having originated in ancient Troy, are to be blended within you to produce the greatest of all the dynasties that have ever existed between the Indus, the Tagus, the Ister and the Nile, between the Antarctic and the Great Bear. Your posterity will include marquises, dukes, popes and emperors. From you shall spring the hundreds of generals and thousands of dauntless knights who by sword and wit will reclaim for Italia all her vanquished honor. The Golden Age will again live, under the august, just and holy rulers who shall be your descendants. In order to bring about this edict, which has been proclaimed by Heaven itself, which from the beginning of time has decreed that you be Rashid’s wife, continue your way with courage, remembering always that nothing will prevent God’s will from being done.
“But Rashid is a paynim paladin, Lord Merlin, an unbeliever, and I am Christian. Even God must know that there will be certain difficulties.”
Turning such a great knight to your faith will be one of the keystones of Agramant’s downfall and the foundation of the Pax Charlemagne.
“I didn’t know that you were such an avid supporter of the Christian cause, Lord Merlin.”
Heaven forfend! It’s only my affection for Arthur that compels me to take the Christian side over the Moors, at least in this case. Were it not for the sake of his memory, I’d probably back the Druids, wherever they are now. But I can see that I have a reason even greater than posterity: your love for Rashid and his love for you.
“He loves me?” she whispered, her heart thrumming within her armored breast like a captive hummingbird.
Oh dear. You didn’t know? Well, I’m probably giving away too much, but . . .
“I hardly know what to say, my lord!”
I don’t suppose there is much that I expect you to say. Trust in your God, no matter how bad things may seem, and everything will turn out for the best. And, Bradamant, my dear . . .
“Yes, my lord?”
Well, I was just going to say, if you happen to be in the neighborhood again some time, stop by and say hello, will you?
“Of course, my lord!”
There was no reply; the light dimmed and Bradamant found that she was alone with Melissa, who was just closing a huge leather-bound volume. They were outside the
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