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Paperback
First published January 1, 1978
In days of old, when knights were bold.
Merlin.
My mother was a virgin.
My father was the devil…
The question is simple enough:
How come I’m watching at my own conception?
Answer:
What else is there to do in a crystal cave!
I have this gift of seeing past and future. From my father, the one. From my mother, the other.
But I cannot change the happenings.
I cannot change the future as I must not change the past.
The most I can do, the once and future fool, is to make it come true again in the present.
Yes, little pig, I know what is going to happen.
Up to a certain point, which is always soon enough reached…
The trees our chapel.
A waterfall our font.
I baptize him with wild water:
‘In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost: Arthur.’
Queen Guinevere, that great queen, mistress of Logres, first lady of Camelot.
That great bitch, mistress of Lancelot, first lady to take off her knickers when the king’s back was turned.
I mean: Guinevere couldn’t wait for Arthur to be off and about some Quest or another and she’d be straight down the corridor and into Sir Lancelot’s bed. The king’s love for her might belong to a different world, but it was not a world that interested her. What interested her was the lance between Lancelot’s legs.
Mordred in black armour rode to kill the king. King Arthur ran at Mordred with his spear so that the spear went right through Mordred's body and out the other side.
"Father! My father!" Mordred cries. He thrusts himself forwards along the spear that is killing him. He drags himself on. He crawls slowly, hanging by his wound. He hauls himself inch by inch to reach the king (p. 210).
