Chapter 12
Bevin stood, balancing back and forth from one foot to the other. She was biting her nails and waiting for Bridget to come back with one of the librarians so they could get into the reading room. She was getting impatient the longer she had to wait to figure out what was going on with her. She felt like she was so close, but yet, still so far away.
Bridget came back with a student librarian. They followed him to a bank of reading rooms. He eyed them carefully as he unlocked the door and escorted them into the room. It was one of the better rooms that had a computer and a phone.
"This is a professor's room. We were surprised that Dr. Seamus called twenty minutes ago and asked for one. He hasn't been down here this year. Let him know that he can call the desk and will bring down any of the books he requests. If y'all need anything, just call the desk."
They looked at each other as the librarian left them in the room. It was like any other reading room in the library. It had the same wood laminated conference style table and some metal and cloth chairs. The phone and the computer were the only differences they could see, until Dr. Seamus came in.
He picked out a chair and stood behind it. He dumped the books that he had on the table, scattering them in no particular order. He grabbed the phone and pulled it over near his seat, but pushed it far enough away that he could grab when needed. He took off his suit jacket and hung it on the back of the chair. He sat down and raised his hand in a manner that told them to sit down.
Bridget took the chair near the computer and brought up two browsers. One was the USC Library System and the other was Google. She looked at them and waited.
"I am glad that you came to me about this tale. It is one that I have been researching for some time. I have never had a firsthand telling of it, though. So, this is a real treat for me."
"I am just glad that you can help me understand and translate the tales better," Bevin told me.
"Did he tell you the entire legend?" he asked her.
"He gave me the basics. I wasn't very good at listening I'm afraid. He has been calling me though and telling me over the phone. I just wanted to look into it. It didn't follow the normal cannon of the Arthurian tales or Irish lore. It just seemed odd to me that he would just start telling it to me and in Irish, too."
"He is an older man, I am sure. He might be trying to make sure that the story continues. I have heard of this in many clan style families. He is trying to pass down family stories as he learned them before he dies. Has any part of the story changed from when you were a child?"
"It just seems to be getting more specific, I think," Bevin told him.
Bridget watched them. She gave Bevin a look to remind her not to tell him too much. He immediately grabbed a small journal and started writing. He grabbed another journal and pushed it to Bevin. She took it and began to flip through it.
"You might find some interesting interpretations of the tale in there. Can you read it and tell me what you think about them? I know that you want to translate the tale into English and that is what I want to do, as well. I'll tell you what I've learned so far and you can just help me fill in any blanks that I haven't found. I think that I can help you in the same manner."
"That sounds like a good idea. I don't remember exactly where to begin. Where would you like to begin?" Bevin asked him.
"The story that I have learned started soon after Arthur dies at the hand of his own son. It seems that his son was the also from the house of the Wolf. Does that make sense?"
"Perfectly, but I don't know the back story that leads up to the legend as I have been told. Can you keep telling me your version and I'll add in where I can? I think if I know the backstory it will help me process what I've been told. That way I can make sense enough of it to tell it to you. I would rather not tell it all in Irish," Bevin told him.
"Oh, yes, that would be fine."
Bevin shot Bridget a look and Bridget gave her one back of confusion. Bevin lifted her arm and pulled down her sleeve slightly and nodded at the computer. Bridget nodded, then, understanding silently that she wanted her to search for the tattoos and their possible meanings. She watched as Bridget diligently searched. Bridget kept giving Dr. Seamus looks while she was looking, waiting to see if he was going to look over at her. She had another window open just in case he did, so she could hide the "covert" research they were doing.
"So, like I was saying most of the tales start as soon as Arthur dies on the battlefield at the hands of his son, Mordred. It seems that Mordred tried to take Excalibur and he couldn't lift it. It seems that the Fae had placed a blessing upon the sword, so only the rightful heir could wield the sword. It was then out of the mists that Morgan La Fey, long believed to be Arthur's mother and Mordred's mother, came and reclaimed the sword. She took it back to Avalon for safe keeping."
"But, if she was Mordred's mother and Arthur's sister, why couldn't he be the heir?"
"It had to do with the rites of the Pendragon. It seems that Mordred never got the backing of the people and he tried to usurp his own father. Mordred was chased to the sea and driven from the lands of his father for his crimes. Shortly after, the Saxons came and conquered the lands, followed by the Vikings and other barbarian hordes from mainland Europe. Those who sought to preserve their way of life and that of Avalon fled to Ireland and married into the clans there."
"Sounds logical enough and that most of that has been backed by historical data, I am sure."
"For the most part, yes, it has, but still there are no graves. There are no written accounts of any of this, so it is all thru word of mouth tales and stories that histories have been derived. So much has been lost through mispronunciations and retellings that we may never know the real truth of the Arthurian legends. But, that is why I like doing my research."
"Because you are trying to blend the different tales into one, giving a more dynamic and encompassing truth to the legend," Bridget offered.
"Exactly. Once compiled it may the largest volume of Arthurian tales known to man. Each time I get a new tale, I try to add the bits that differ from my compiled data in order to form a more perfect picture of the king the early Celts called Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther and Igraine."
"Igraine out lived him as well, did she not?"
"Yes, she did. He was survived by his mother, sister, wife and son. It was rumored that Mordred never left the British Isles alive. Morgan tried to buy his passage to the Isle of Avalon, but the Lady wouldn't allow his passage. She actually forbade him from coming."
"But, what does that have to do with my tale?" Bevin asked.
"That is about where yours comes in. You see that according to the legends, the Lady of the Lake forbade Morgan from stepping foot on the Isle as well. She was banished for not protecting the Druid way of life and protecting their religion. She was also punished for trying to return her son to the Isle. Mordred was never going to take the throne though. He was from the wrong house in the end and hadn't earned the markings of the Pendragon."
"The marks of the Pendragon?"
"Yes, the Pendragon was a title. It was given to the High Chieftain of all the Clans. There were five main clans for the people. The people of the boar, the people of the raven, the people of the bear, the people of the horse, and the people of the wolf were the clans of the people. The clan of the dragon was the clan of the leaders and the Druids. You weren't born into it; you were brought into through trials and triumphs. Mordred tried to use blood to join and failed."
"Because both his mother and his father were Pendragons?"
"Morgan wasn't a Pendragon. Arthur was in both ways. He was the son of Uther Pendragon and he earned the moniker, too. He was a prince of the people, for the people and by the people. Mordred was a bastard of incestuous misguidedness. He was never meant to rule. He never earned the markings of clan either. He died alone and with a people to call his own. Even the army that he raised to take against Arthur wasn't native to the British Isle."
"He was the ultimate black sheep. But, that still doesn't answer the question. Why does the Arthurian lead to my Granddadda's tales? What does the fact that Mordred and Morgan being banished from Avalon have to do with any of it?"
"Plenty, according to legend, Morgan was half Fae. She didn't age like man would. When the Lady of the Lake wouldn't grant her access, she gave her the only key to unlocking Avalon."
"A new Pendragon?"
"Yes, but foreseeing the troubles brewing in Europe that were soon to cross the sea, she told Morgan that the new Pendragon wouldn't be of the people. He would be a fosterling of royal blood from a new Clan of the Wolf. His lineage would bridge the gaps and unite the clans under two children: The Sorcha and the Pendragon."
"So, the Sorcha who is to be his wife shall be from the one of the five major clans of legend?"
"Yes, Bevin, she will. See this is where the tales diverge greatly. On the main Isle of Britain, they follow Arthur's side and seek to find the newest Pendragon. This is especially true for the Welsh, especially those that reside in Cornwall. But, the Irish took Morgan's side. The reasoning behind this is because she married a Merlin."
"But, I thought that Merlin was Arthur's wizard?" Bridget asked.
"He wasn't a wizard. He was a teacher and friend. He was a high druid and a Pendragon himself. He earned his marks through religion and teachings. He would have been like the Pope. He was the highest priest for the people. Before he died, he would test the clans' high priests and name his successor and the new Merlin."
"Aye, I know these tales. Morgan married a young Merlin names Taliesin. He was more than likely the successor to Arthur's Merlin. But other than that, the stories skip over to Brian and the other heroes of old. What good does that do us now?"
"Because the child of Morgan and Merlin was named Banshee. She had many daughters, who married many chieftains' sons. But, most of the children of Banshee settled in the East of Ireland. And the clans that arose from her lines, have long forgotten their magical blood, and fear the horror stories associated with the Fae children of her. The Wailers weren't the harbingers of death. They just marked someone's passing. It became a horrific call as time passed and people misinterpreted the stories. A Banshee in the family was once considered a blessing."
"Why is that?" Bridget asked.
"Because she was seen as a seer," Bevin replied.
"Yes, she was a special woman of the clan. She could see where the clan was heading and most of the time would steer the chieftain in the right direction. But, as their powers grew and the fear grew with them, most Banshee's were ostracized from their clans, homes, and communities. They would live on the edge of civilization and only those considered weak of heart or those so desperate they needed magical help would seek her out. Eventually over time, Banshees left their mark on certain families."
"Who hid the identity of any that were marked in the family?" Bevin questioned.
"Yes, I believe that they would. They would be known by stories and histories as a Banshee family, but if they had a Banshee living, I am sure that no one would know about it. You should know that calling someone a Banshee in certain parts of Ireland is equivalent to cursing someone out here. It isn't a pleasant thing to call a woman there," Seamus told them.
"So, the Sorcha is a banshee?" Bridget asked, no longer paying attention to her research on the computer screen, as she looked over the monitor at them.
"No, she isn't. She is associated with the family of the Banshee, but she herself is not one. This is where the tales get…well…fuzzy."
"Fuzzy?"
"Very, very, vague to say the least."
"The Sorcha isn't a banshee, but she is a descendent of the Pendragon. She is related to Morgan and Taliesin, then. But, how?" Bevin asked.
"That is what I was hoping you could tell me," he told her.