by J A Cummings
Brastias looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Really? Back to the fight so soon?”
“Of course. We aren’t finished bringing Lot to heel, and he’s wounded. He’ll be unable to put up as much of a fight now.”
“True,” the older man nodded, “but the army was released for the season, sent back home to tend their farms.”
Arthur was shocked. “Released? We have months of summer weather yet!”
“We thought your fighting season was over, and very nearly your life with it,” he explained. “I certainly didn’t expect that you’d be up and ready to go back to it so quickly.”
He sighed. “Well, it’s probably for the best. There was a lot of fighting in a very short period of time. I’m sure the men were tired.”
“Exhausted.” He straightened. “Also, you need more training before we turn you loose on the battlefield again.”
“More training? What do you mean?”
“I mean you hold your shield too high and too far from your body. Look at where you’ve received your hurts - lower left side, left thigh. Your shield would have caught both of those blows, if it had been held where it needed to be.”
Arthur cringed. “I made some mistakes.”
“Yes, indeed,” Brastias agreed. “And mistakes on the battlefield can be costly.”
He looked toward the crypt and sighed. “So I’ve learned.”
The older knight nodded. “Your father fell because his shield arm was weak. I won’t lose you the same way.” He hesitated, watching his warhorse carefully as it shied away from Ewain. Brastias whistled softly, and the horse relaxed, allowing the groom to approach him. The knight shook his head. “Damned high-strung monster.”
They watched the horses and Ewain’s labors for a while longer, then the knight spoke again.
“I’d like to take you back to Mons Badonicus with me, so that I can train you there. I have training equipment there that you don’t have here at Caer Gai, and I’d like to be with my bride. I’m still a newlywed, after all.”
The young king hopped down from the railing. “I’m sorry to have separated you from Garwen, my friend.”
“It couldn’t be helped, and I was hardly going to drag her along to an army camp when she’s with child.”
Arthur smiled. “With child? Brastias, that’s wonderful. That’s two babies on the way that I know about. Our numbers increase.”
“Watch out for a third,” Ewain advised. “Things always come in threes.”
Bedivere emerged from the knights’ house, yawning cavernously. “Morning already,” he said. He joined them at the fence. “Is there food cooked?”
“I don’t know,” Arthur confessed. “I didn’t look. I didn’t see Mairwen when I left the keep, but I also didn’t go through the kitchen.”
Ewain said, “A king shouldn’t be in the kitchen anyway.”
Brastias smirked. “Well, I have to agree.” He put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “Come. Let’s go find some food.”
The morning meal was served to a solemn group. Lionors sat beside Kay, stealing worried looks at him and barely eating her food. Kay made no pretense of trying to eat and sat in silence, staring at the table. Griflet attempted to make small talk with Merlin, but the druid was not in a talkative mood, so the effort failed. Arthur had no appetite. It was all very awkward and uncomfortable.
Kay rose from the table before Arthur, a breach in royal protocol that nobody felt the need to correct. He left without saying a word, limping out of the keep and into the tiltyard. Lionors looked to Arthur, silently asking permission to leave the table and follow, and he gave it with a nod.
She found him standing by the quintain, his hand on the sandbag, his eyes downcast. “Kay?”
He did not look up. “I’m not good company today, my lady. You may wish to return to the keep.”
She walked closer and put a hand on his back. “Your father has died. No one would be good company at a time like this. Is there anything that I can do for you?”
He shook his head. “The only thing I want is the one thing that nobody can deliver.”
Lionors moved closer and leaned her head against his arm. “I’m so sorry, Kay. I know how much you loved him, and how much he loved you. It was obvious that you made him very proud.”
“I hope so.” He took a deep breath, then said, “I am very grateful to you for all of the care you’ve shown, and for coming all the way Caer Gai. You are a very kind lady.”
“It’s nothing,” she said. “I care for you, so it’s no trouble at all.”
Kay hesitated, and she could tell that he was thinking hard about something that made him anxious. She waited while he wrestled with himself in his contemplation. At last, he said, “Have you ever considered converting to Christianity?”
It was not a question she had expected, and she blinked in surprise. “No.”
He nodded. “Would you consider it?”
She didn’t know where this question had come from, or why it seemed so important to him. She chose her words carefully. “I cannot in good conscience give my word in faith to a deity I don’t know and don’t believe in. If I learned more about your god, then perhaps I could give a better answer. Why?”
“Because I can’t marry a woman who isn’t Christian.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Marry! She took his hand in hers. “If that is the price of winning you as my husband, I would convert a hundred times.”
Kay pulled her closer and kissed her lips, tender and yearning. She leaned into him, and he put his arms around her. He was strong, and she liked the way it felt when he held her. She slipped her arms around his waist and pressed against him.
“Caer Gai is nothing like Ceredigion…”
“It’s beautiful.”
“Would you be happy as the wife of a country lord?” he asked. “Or as the wife of the High King’s seneschal?”
She smiled. “I don’t care what your position is. I would be happy with you even if we were pig farmers.”
“Then… Lionors….” He awkwardly bent and knelt on one knee, his injured ankle impeding the movement. He took her hands in his and looked up at her. “Would you make me the happiest man alive and consent to be my wife?”
Tears sprang into her eyes, and she nodded, unable to speak at first. On the second try, she managed to squeak out, “Yes!”
She bent and took his strong and honest face into her hands and kissed him with all of the love that she could show. He pulled her close and pressed his cheek against her abdomen, and she held him, stroking his brown hair with her fingers.
“I love you,” Kay said softly. “I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you.”
She had no words that could match the beauty of what he’d said, so she simply held him a while longer.
The lovers came back into the keep hand in hand, and Kay’s face was nearly split by the smile he wore. Merlin met them at the door. “What has you so happy, Sir Kay?” he asked.
“I have asked Princess Lionors for her hand, and she has consented,” he answered happily. “I need King Arthur’s permission to ride to Ceredigion to ask for her father’s blessing.”
The druid looked at her, then at Kay, and the look was so strange that the knight felt afraid. “I’m sure he won’t mind,” Merlin said. “He may even give me leave to take you with my magic. He’s in the great hall.”
Kay and Lionors walked past the enigmatic druid, and they glanced at one another, mystified. Arthur and Brastias were standing by the hearth in the great hall while Griflet and Bedivere occupied nearby benches. They were all armored and had their swords in their hands.
“What’s this?” Kay asked. He felt a rush of irrational anger. “Leaving so soon? Back to the wars already?”
Arthur faced him with a benign smile. “Training.” He turned that smile onto Lionors, who returned the friendly expression. “You look happy.”
She nodded. “I am, my lord. Sir Kay has asked me to marry him, and I’ve agreed
.”
Happy shouts rose from the men, and they stepped forward to congratulate the couple. Arthur called for their best hard cider, and Bedivere clapped Kay on the shoulder. “Well done, well done. You couldn’t have picked a better bride.”
Lionors blushed happily, and she was the most beautiful thing Kay had ever seen. “Thank you, Sir Bedivere.”
The king came forward and embraced Kay, who received him stiffly. Arthur looked into his eyes, a slight frown on his face, before moving to Lionors. He embraced her, as well. “Welcome, sister.”
Kay watched Lionors wrapped in Arthur’s arms, and he was reminded of the Beltane rite. The way Arthur now called her ‘sister’ after knowing her in a carnal way was obscene, and he felt a flush of hot anger rising up his back. He glared fiercely at the king, but kept his comment in check. Behind Arthur, he saw the watchful presence of Merlin, the druid’s blue eyes shrewd and observant. He turned his baleful look upon him, but Merlin was unaffected. Kay bit his tongue and turned to receive the congratulations of Bedivere and Brastias.
When Griflet came to shake his hand, Kay turned his back, pretending not to notice him. It was bad enough that he had to tolerate his foster brother’s touch; he would not willingly grasp the hand of a male whore. How much did your uncle get for selling you to my brother? He looked at Arthur, and resisted the urge to yank him away from his lady.
“We would like to go to Ceredigion to see my father,” Lionors told the king. “May we have your permission to go?”
“Of course,” Arthur smiled. “But Sir Kay, how is your ankle? Are you fit for a long journey?”
He raised his chin. “I am.”
Merlin spoke up. “I thought perhaps I might help them along.”
“That’s very generous, Merlin. I would like it if you could do that,” Arthur said. “I don’t know what it is about funerals that inspires betrothals, but I’m so glad to have happy news after all of this sorrow.”
Kay doubted uncharitably if Arthur had felt any sorrow at all, but he reluctantly remembered when they had spoken while the king was in the cart, unable to walk and nearing his own demise. Arthur had seemed sad enough then. He bit back on his anger, feeling annoyed and unworthy at the same time, wondering why his foster brother aroused so many conflicting emotions in his heart.
Merlin stepped forward. “Gather your things, children, and I will take you to Ceredigion.”
Kay turned to Arthur and said, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“You’re very, very welcome.” He smiled. “And you can call me by my name. You’ll always be my brother.”
He bit back on a snide comment and forced an answering smile. “Thank you, Arthur.”
“Of course!” The king chuckled. “Kay, I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you,” he said, sounding anything but sincere. Before he could say something he would regret, he gathered up his agitation and left for the knights’ house to pack.
Merlin caught up with Lionors as she was going up the stairs to the private room where she had been staying. “My lady, a word if you please.”
She stopped and faced him with a smile. “Of course.”
“How are you feeling these days?”
“Weary from traveling, but otherwise well.” She tilted her head slightly. “Why do you ask?”
“Do you realize that you are with child?”
She went pale. “What?”
“You are carrying a Beltane baby.”
Lionors put a hand out against the wall to steady herself. “That’s...How do you know?”
Merlin smiled at her. “I know many things, my lady, past, present and future. How will Kay react, do you think?”
He could see on her face that she doubted her intended’s reaction would be positive. She straightened and said, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to pack for the journey to Ceredigion.”
He bowed and watched her walk away.
Lionors went into her room and closed the door. She leaned her back against the closed portal and began to weep, her hand pressed to her mouth to muffle the sound. She wanted to believe that Merlin was wrong, but in her heart, she knew that what he said was true.
She had known that it was possible she would conceive a Goddess child, and at the time of the Beltane ritual, she had been open to the thought. Now, though, she knew how much Kay disapproved of the pagan religion and especially of her participation in the rite. It would be a disaster to go to Kay with this news. He would cast her off, she was certain, and her heart would be broken.
Perhaps she could seduce him, and then convince him that the child was his. She dismissed that thought out of hand, not wanting to start their marriage with a lie. She could never betray Kay’s trust that way, and it would pain him to raise a bastard child as his own. Eventually, the truth would come out, because it always did. Merlin would tell, or the child would resemble his father, or there would be some hint that the child was not Kay’s blood. It would be a betrayal that Kay would never forgive. If she knew anything about him, she knew that he could be stiff-necked.
She sat on the bed and wept into her hands. There was only one thing that she could do.
A rider from Din Eidyn brought news of Lot’s injury to the broch by the sea. Morgause and Morgana, no longer in need of privacy, returned to the castle as quickly as they could. The Queen of Lothian found her husband seriously wounded and lying in his bed, raving from fever. She sat beside him and took his hand, looking into his sweat-sheened face with concern.
From his chair beside the bed, Bruis said, “He gave as good as he got.”
“Good,” she said, frowning.
“Gawain…” He began, then stopped.
She froze, dread filling her with ice. “What about my son?”
“He was fighting for Pendragon.”
Morgause gaped. “Impossible.”
“I saw it with my own eyes.”
She turned away from him, unwilling to believe it could be true. “He was enspelled. Merlin has bewitched him.”
Bruis nodded. “That would certainly explain it.”
In the doorway, Morgana said, “Merlin is a horrible person.”
“You’ll get no arguments from me.” The knight looked at the young Queen of Rheged, his eyes sweeping her from head to toe. He smiled at what he saw, then turned back to Morgause. “The druids and healers have been here already today, but if you have anything that you can do, maybe…”
“You don’t have to ask me to help my husband,” she told him archly.
With gentle and careful hands, she removed Lot’s bandages and examined his wounds. He was fortunate that he was strong; a lesser man would have been laid low with the injuries that she saw.
She turned to Bruis. “Who did this to him?”
“Pendragon.”
Morgause looked at him skeptically. “I thought you said he was just a boy.”
Bruis shrugged. “He’s a boy who can fight.”
Morgana glowered. “I hate him.”
The soldier said, “Lot hurt him when they fought. Pendragon is probably dead already.”
A small hand slipped around the door jamb, and then Agravaine peeked into the room. His face brightened when he saw his mother, and he ran to her, shouting with joy. Morgause caught him in her arms and kissed him.
“My boy! Are you well? I’ve missed you so!”
“I missed you!” he said. “Papa is ill.”
“Yes, I see, but I’ll do everything I can to make him better.”
“Gawain is gone,” he said sadly.
“I heard. We will get him back from the mean men who took him, I promise you that.” She hugged her boy and looked down at her husband. “I promise you.”
Lionors packed the few things she had brought with her and returned to the great hall. All of the knights were in attendance, with Merlin waiting to cast his traveling magic. She put her bags down and said, “King Arthur, Sir Kay, Merlin… may we have a word in private?”
Bedivere said, “
We’ll go outside and give you the hall. Come, Griflet.”
“Yes, sir.” The youngest knight smiled at Arthur, then followed Bedivere and Brastias as they left through the garden door.
When she was certain that they were gone, she said to Merlin, “Tell them what you told me on the stairway.”
Kay and Arthur looked at one another in a combination of bewilderment and apprehension. Merlin tucked his hands into the sleeves of his robe and said, “I told you that you are with child.”
Utter silence fell. Kay stared at Merlin, then at Lionors, his face growing redder and redder. Arthur went pale and gaped at Lionors.
“Congratulations, Arthur,” the druid said. “You’re going to be a father.”
“I…” He swallowed. “I need to sit down.”
Lionors turned to Kay. “Before we go to Ceredigion, you needed to know. Do you still want me as your wife?”
The knight stared at her, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I cannot raise another man’s child.”
“Not even the High King’s?” Merlin asked. “Your own father raised a child he did not sire. Are you so much better than Sir Ector?”
Kay’s face turned mottled, and he was trembling. Lionors lost hope. He turned to Merlin and said, “That was different. The child that wasn’t his wasn’t borne by his wife.”
“You’re acting as though you’ve been cuckolded,” the druid said. “She conceived this child before you started courting. Do you need me to remind you that she was with Arthur first?”
“I know she was with Arthur first, God damn it!” Kay roared. His voice rang off of the stone walls, and he struggled to regain something like composure. “I will never be able to put that shame behind me for as long as there is a child of that union.”
“Shame?” Lionors echoed. “Are you ashamed of me?”
He turned to her, his face nearly rigid with rage. “I am ashamed of what you’ve done.”
She began to weep, but she tried to hide it. Despite her attempts at keeping a brave face, a tear slid down her cheek as she said, “Then you have made yourself clear. Your love for yourself and your pride are more powerful than your love for me. Do not come to Ceredigion, Sir Kay. I will have no welcome for you.” She turned to Merlin. “Take me home.”
