Arthur's Peace

On a day in a season of mildness in the air, fruit in the trees and leaf-given shade in the land of Britain, when the language of the Druids whispered in the ears of the great and of the stalwart tillers of earth's bounty, when the songs of passion and of joy outweighed dry accountings and sharp commands, the greatest progeny of the realm left his grand home to pursue the dream which had wakened him that morning from an enchanting, that is, fairy-made slumber.  He had no armor but instead a thin white cotton robe; sandals on his feet; his hair loose and long; his beard without wax.  In Arthur's eyes -- Arthur the King -- there was a look new to himself and his court.  He seemed to look at every field and every grove as if he had never seen them before but had always known them, and was pleased in his demeanor.  Birds that flew near lit upon the boughs of trees and silently bore witness to his slow, deliberate step and his light presence, as if he were their brother in flight.  Indeed, he seemed he wished to take wing with them.

But the dream he had, nearly unfaded, in his thoughts, was quite different and even more impassioned.  With his purpose firm, he found Sire Galahad with his sword and, whispering, spoke to him thus:  "Galahad, you are the finest, strongest knight of the Round Table.  I have had a dream in which I saw that all that there is is the living will of the Mother of our land.  Day by day we live in the shadows of this knowledge that we are her children.  I see now that I must become her servant before all else."  Galahad, alarmed by Arthur's unworldly presence, replied, "Great Sire, return with me now to the great house to your wife the Lady Guenever.  She will be able to render you the service you require to maintain the proper relationship to your land and people and to your Father and God. 

"I say to you no," Arthur with the greatest serenity replied.  "I require your sword to complete my devotion to Our Mother.  It is sacred and ancient and has the bite and sting of the most powerful serpent."

Galahad replied more loudly, "Sire Arthur, there is no one in this land or any other who can know the ways of the protector and progenitor of this earth we inhabit with all gratitude and delight.  Neither Merlin nor Morgana can compel or induce anyone, whether with power or with supplication, to become what was not brought to them at birth."  Galahad had correctly supposed the nature of Arthur's dream.  "I beseech your Majesty's forbearance of my impudent counsel.  It were better to return to your wife and your mother than to carry out a foolish desecration of your person."

"Naked I was born and even more naked shall I depart," stated Arthur, the bear spirit antecedent to his name rising in him.  "I will have your sword."

Then Arthur, his vision undiluted by Galahad's importunings stepped toward a very beautiful oak which villagers referred to as the Tree of Knowledge.  The sword in his hand, he knelt at the roots of the great tree and said rapidly and quietly in English many words of hope, desire and promised to the Oak's mother that his loyalty would remain hers.  Then with one swift stroke he emasculated his body, his eyes opening in shock at the pain and the knowledge of himself in Her eyes.  Then, collapsing, he turned to Galahad who was running toward him, and, blood pouring out his mouth and from his groin, called out for succor in last moments.  Galahad cradled the dying Arthur in his gentle arms and shed many tears over his demise, the man who ever afterward would inhabit the dreams of his subjects and their descendants to this day, as the One Who Sought To See Through Britannia's Eyes, or, Arthur the Seer.

Gently Britain bade farewell to the time of Life without Sorrow.

As Arthur was buried in Avalon, so his last moments are preserved in the memory of the soil and are given to all who seek to pay gracious homage to the Fair Lady.