Page 303 of The Daughters of Avalon
Marcella nodded again. “Aye.”
The two shared a knowing look, and Marcella continued again. “So, now, fearing to lose his beautiful bride, Uther defended Yissachar to the Church, saying it was all the fault of the sword. He claimed it was cursed, and thus Yissachar was spared, banished to Blackwood for her crime.”
Rhiannon nodded, then sang…
“Blackwood, Blackwood, there she remains,
All through the dark and light of day.
Eyes o’ fire, and bright-silver mane.
Summer to winter and summer again.”
Marcella nodded as Rhiannon finished her verse. “That’s the one.”
“So, what happened to Uther’s sword?” Rhiannon asked.
“The Church confiscated every weapon that Taliesin had forged with theDynion Mwyn—twelve altogether—and they established an elite Guard, awarding each paladin with a sword that formerly belonged to the Kings of Briton.”
“The Papal Guard,” Rhiannon surmised. “And whose sword do you carry?”
“I believe it was Urien’s.”
Rhiannon turned to ask Jack, “And yours?”
The young man coughed indiscreetly. “I’m not yet worthy to carry a Sword of Power.”
“You will in time,” returned Marcella, without looking at the young paladin.
“When?”
“When I die,” she said matter-of-factly, after which, another length of silence ensued.
It was, perhaps, a prospect Jack didn’t relish, but to Rhiannon it made perfect sense. If, in fact, there were only twelve swords altogether, unless an officer of the Guard should perish, there were no more swords to hand about. She knew Giles had given his sword to Rosalynde, but that was another matter entirely. Naturally, such was the nature of these things; someone would have to die before another sword was granted.
“Who else possesses a sword?”
Marcella smiled forbearingly. “That is not something I’m at liberty to say, but I can tell you this much: One sword never left Alba.”
“David of Scotia?” Rhiannon said.
Marcella confirmed nothing, but she said, “You’re quite astute. It took me years and years of investigations to put all these stories together.”
“To great avail,” allowed Rhiannon. “You know your histories far better than anyone I have ever met.”
“Well, I made it a point to know,” Marcella said, “all for the sake of a man I once loved.” And then she averted her gaze, into the woods, and Rhiannon sensed intuitively that she must be speaking of Cael, although something in the paladin’s expression kept her from inquiring.
“So, what happened to the other sister?” inquired Jack. “The one called Morgan.”
It took Marcella a while to respond.
“Well… it was Yissachar who slew Igraine, so they let her be. In keeping with our kind, she grew to be a very, very, very old woman. She escaped the fate of many of our kind, simply by virtue of the fact that her husband was conscripted to the Guard. Meanwhile, Yissachar languished in her tower, and, by decree of the church, they purged the remainder ofdewinekindfrom the realm.”
Jack sounded incredulous, and perhaps a little incensed. “Uther allowed it?”
Marcella lifted a brow, casting Jack a backward glance. “Allowed?” she said. “My dear, Utherledthem. Do you not pay attention to your studies, ever?”
Rhiannon frowned.
