The Child of the Holy Grail by Rosalind Miles

Author:Rosalind Miles
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780307421890
Publisher: Crown/Archetype
Published: 2007-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

THEY FOUND ARTHUR on his knees in his private chapel, hands clasped and eyes uplifted to an ivory carving of a tortured Christ. Beneath the crucifix stood a fine altar covered in purple and gold. A gold cross with a cabochon ruby at its heart glowed on the altar like an evil eye. A lone monk chanted mournfully in the rear, and the sick scent of incense lay in the air.

In the outer chamber a bevy of monks were praying inside the door while the guards stood watchful but bemused outside. The Father Abbot brushed unseeingly past them all.

“My son—”

“Father—?”

Rising from his knees, Arthur received the delegation warmly and without surprise. “You come to call me to my devotions?” He smiled wanly and waved a hand around. “You see I am already at my prayers.”

The Abbot shook his head. “Son, no,” he said with a sorrow he could not explain. “I have never had cause to question the depth of your faith. I know too that it has been sorely tried, and never more so than now.”

“Now?” Arthur turned color. “Yes indeed. All my good knights are dead. You heard that, Father?” He grimaced. “And the way they died?”

“I did,” the Abbot said. He raised his voice, and beckoned his monks to draw near. “The wages of sin, I fear, is always death.”

Arthur bowed his big body like a bear in pain. “Was it sin, then, that kept them from the Grail? That caused so many of them to lose their lives?”

“Sin, for a certainty,” the Abbot intoned. “Or else the Grail would be ours.”

Sylvester leaned forward hungrily. “Sin inescapable, sire.”

“As black as Satan’s hoof!” Anselmo cried.

A spasm of terror ran through Arthur’s frame. “The sin that leads to the eternal fire?” His eyes widened as a new thought took root. “My sin?” he said with a terrible laugh. “Would God take the lives of my knights for that?”

There was no reply. Arthur felt like a rat in a trap. All around him burned a circle of accusing eyes. He struck his head. “God knows I sinned,” he cried hoarsely. His vacant eyes showed a mind burrowing into the past. “I broke my vow to Guenevere—lay with my sister— killed my son—”

The Abbot joined his hands as if in prayer. “These are sins enough for any man.”

“But have I not atoned?” Arthur cried out in anguish. “You know how many times I have confessed. I have done penance, suffered for my sins.” He began to weep wildly, blindly, like a child. “Did I fail to atone in the eyes of God? Are my sins still heavy on my head? Did the best knights in the world die because of me?”

The Abbot’s pale eyes flared. “Sire, who can say? You have sinned greatly, that much is true. But think, sire, where the Quest began. The Grail appeared before us in Camelot, then vanished again. And why?”

Arthur looked up, bewildered. “Why? I don’t know.”

The Abbot leaned forward. “Because it could not abide there.

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