"I have never lost," he stated flatly. "Down ten cen- turies, I have never lost a personal contest. It is true that I have aged, yet whenever I am threatened all of my former strength returns to me. But, look where I may, fight where I may, it has never served me to discover that which I must find. I feel I am unforgiven and must wander like the Eternal Jew until the end of the world."

^ She lowered her head.

"... And you say I will not find it tomorrow?"

"You will never find it," she said softly.

"You saw that in my hand?"

She shook her head.

"Your story is fascinating and your theory novel,"

she began, "but Cagliostro was a total charlatan. Some- thing must have betrayed your thoughts, and he made a shrewd guess. But he was wrong. I say that you will never find it, not because you are unworthy or un- forgiven. No, never that. A more loyal subject than yourself never drew breath. Don't you know that Arthur forgave you? It was an arranged marriage. The same thing happened constantly elsewhere, as you must know.

You gave her something he could not. There was only tenderness there. He understood. The only forgiveness you require is that which has been withheld all these long years-your own. No, it is not a doom that has been laid upon you. It is your own feelings which led you to assume an impossible quest, something tanta- mount to total unforgiveness. But you have suffered all these centuries upon the wrong trail."

When she raised her eyes, she saw that his were hard, like ice or gemstones. But she met his, gaze and con- tinued: "There is not now, was not then, and probably never was, a Holy Grail."

"I saw it," he said, "that day it passed through the Hall of the Table. We all saw it."

"You thought you saw it," she corrected him. "I hate to shatter an illusion that has withstood all the other tests of time, but I fear I must. The kingdom, as you

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recall, was at that time in turmoil. The knights were growing restless and falling away from the fellowship.

A year-six months, even-and all would have collapsed, all Arthur had striven so hard to put together. He knew that the longer Camelot stood, the longer its name would endure, the stronger its ideals would become. So he made a decision, a purely political one. Something was needed to hold things together. He called up6n Merlin, already half-mad, yet still shrewd enough to see what was needed and able to provide it. The Quest was born.

Merlin's powers created the illusion you saw that day.

It was a lie, yes. A glorious lie, though. And it served for years after to bind you all in brotherhood, in the name of justice and love. It entered literature, it promoted nobility and the higher ends of culture. It served its purpose. But it was-never-really-there. You have been chasing a ghost. I am sorry Launcelot, but I have absolutely no reason to lie to you. I know magic when I see it. I saw it then. That is how it happened."

For a long while he was silent Then he laughed.

"You have an answer for everything," he said. "I could almost believe you, if you could but answer me one thing more-Why am I here? For what reason? By what power? How is it I have been preserved for half the Christian era while other men grow old and die in a handful of years? Can you tell me now what Cag- liostro could not?"

"Yes," she said, "I believe that I can."

He rose to his feet and began to pace. The cat, alarmed, sprang from the sofa and ran into the back room. He stooped and snatched up his walking stick. He started for the door.

"I suppose it was worth waiting a thousand years to see you afraid," she said.

He halted.

"That is unfair," he replied.

"I know. But now you will come back and sit down,"

she said.

He was smiling once more as he turned and returned.

^eU me," he said. "How do you see it?"

"Yours was the last enchantment of Merlin, that is

how I see it."

"Merlin? Me? Why?"

"Gossip had it the old goat took Nimue into the woods

279.

and she had to use one of his own spells on him in self- defense-a spell which caused him to sleep forever in some lost place. If it was the spell that I believe it was, then at least part of the rumor was incorrect. There was no known counterspell, but the effects of the enchant- ment would have caused him to sleep not forever but for a millennium or so, and then to awaken. My guess now is that his last conscious act before he dropped off was to lay this enchantment upon you, so that you would be on hand when he returned."

"I suppose it might be possible, but why would he want me or need me?"

"If I were journeying into a strange time, I would want an ally once I reached it. And if I had a choice, I would want it to be the greatest champion of the day."

"Merlin . . ." he mused. "I suppose that it could be as you say. Excuse me, but a long life has just been shaken up, from beginning to end. If this is true . . ."

"I am sure that it is."

"If this is true ... A millennium, you say?"

"More or less."

"Well, it is almost that time now."

'I know. I do not believe that our meeting tonight was a matter of chance. You are destined to meet him upon bis awakening, which should be soon. Something has ordained that you meet me first, however, to be warned.**

"Warned? Warned of what?"

"He is mad, Launcelot. Many of us felt a great re- lief at his passing. If the realm had not been sundered finally by strife it would probably have been broken by his hand, anyway."

"That I find difficult to believe. He was always a strange man-for who can fully understand a sorcerer?- and in his later years he did seem at least partly daft. But he never struck me as evil."

"Nor was he. His was the most dangerous morality of all. He was a misguided idealist. In a more primitive time and place and with a willing tool like Arthur, he was able to create a legend. Today, in an age of mon- strous weapons, with the right leader as his catspaw, he could unleash something totally devastating. He would see a wrong and force his man to try righting it. He would'

do it in the name of the same high ideal he always

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served, but he would not appreciate the results until it was too late. How could he-even if he were sane? He has no conception of modem international relations."

"What is to be done? What is my part in all of this?"

"I believe you should go back, to England, to be pres- ent at his awakening, to find out exactly what he wants, to try to reason with him."

"I don't know . . . How would I find him?'* '

"You found me. When the time is right, you will be in the proper place. I am certain of that- It was meant to be, probably even a part of his spell. Seek him. But do not trust him."

"I don't know. Morgana." He looked at the wall, unseeing. "I don't know,"