“That is not my mother,” I heard my daughter scream. I purposefully closed my mind to her and searched out Nimue. She would not or could not answer me, but I continued to pursue her. A half-mile from Merlin’s cave, I descended quickly and hurried to find her. To my horror, the front of the cave had collapsed…no, that was not right. It was covered with a wall of stones, and the forest was oddly quiet. Yes, so very quiet. Nothing stirred, not even a squirrel or a mouse. No birds sang, no crickets either. These things usually did not fear me and had no reason to fear me, but something was amiss. Who could have done this?
I began taking down the wall of stones, tossing the rocks aside one by one. The wall of loose rocks was thick but not immovable. I kept working, fully aware that the sun would be coming up soon. I had to work quickly—we could not stay here.
Nimue! I am here! Can you hear me?
Yes, I am here.
I continued to remove the rocks, and soon Nimue’s hand was grasping mine. I pulled her from the rubble feeling grateful that my bloody offspring had survived the landslide that clearly was intended to harm her. I eased her out of the remaining rock pile and gasped at the sight of her. She had been bruised and bloodied, but she was not horribly injured. In fact, she was strong. As strong as I.
“Nimue, you fed.” It was a stupid observation, but I was surprised to see her looking so young and lovely.
“Thanks to Merlin. He came to me here, Guinevere. He commanded me to take blood; he must have known what Vivian had in mind for me. That must be it. That’s why he knew about Llewellyn.”
“Who? You are not making sense, Nimue. What happened here?”
“Vivian’s owls, her minions. They tore at me and dropped these stones here. There were so many of them, Guinevere. So many. More than enough to wreak havoc on Camelot.”
“Then we must go there. We must make all haste.”
“Wait, please.” Nimue took my hand and kissed it. She smiled, and her eyes were bright. “Merlin promises that he will return to do battle with us, and he promises to take me with him when he leaves. He will leave after the battle, my queen. And you must let me go, too. You must, promise me you will.”
“I would not want to keep you from Merlin, for I know he is your one true love. When it is time to say goodbye to you, I will do as you ask, Nimue. Until then, I can only do what is in my nature. I want you to live, my friend, my bloody daughter. Speaking of daughters, I saw Alwen tonight. She is with the High Queen.”
“You are the High Queen, Guinevere. You and you alone. But truly? Alwen lives? Who else has survived, I wonder? This must be the work of heaven, that so many have returned to Camelot, even if only for a little while.”
“We should be rid of this place, Nimue, before Vivian sends her winged minions back. We cannot risk taking flight; we must walk, but swiftly.”
Nimue’s wounds were invisible now. I could see no more cuts or tears on her perfect skin. The shee blood healed her completely. How astonishing, this cursed blood. For a brief second, I thought of Alwen, my true daughter. What could this blood mean for her?
Nimue paused and gripped my hand. “Never think it, Guinevere. Never.”
Without summoning the Bricklayer, I focused on the task of returning to Camelot without drawing too much attention. There was no sense in hiding my thoughts from Nimue. And it was only a thought. I would not bring this curse on my daughter.
Not for anything.
Nimue half-turned and smiled at me; clearly, she agreed with my conclusion. I squeezed her hand, happy to have found my companion alive. Or as alive as she could be.
When we cleared the forest, I was shocked to see that the siege was already underway.
And Camelot was in flames.
Chapter Fifteen—Arthur
“Arthur! Look!” Igraine’s voice broke the silence. She rode her horse as elegantly as ever. Queen Igraine had been a notable rider in her time. The horse, a handsome red, moved as if it were an extension of her body. Unfortunately, my daughter did not inherit her grandmother’s love for horses. In fact, she was quite afraid of them when I never remembered her being so frightened of them before. Alwen had a great fear of many things now. My once-fearless daughter had been burned, abused and brutalized in ways I could scarcely imagine. But how had this happened? Merlin promised me that she lived; in fact, she had been under his care for a time. I had so many questions to ask him.
“I see! Hold on to me, Alwen!” She whimpered and buried her face in my chest as we barreled toward the top of the hill. This was the last place we could hide an army before our arrival in Camelot. Once we moved off the ridge, there would be no element of surprise, no way to hide hundreds of men, horses, wagons and equipment. Clutching the reins of the horse tightly, Igraine, Nova and I came to a halt. I swore under my breath as I watched Camelot burn like a Christmas candle on the darkest night.
“Is that…home?” Alwen asked quietly. She flinched again at the sight of fire. There had been no time to pull from her the narrative concerning her assault, but I meant to. I would know who harmed her, and they would pay for their crimes. But for now, an entire city—my city—waited for their king to rescue them. It had been a risk, leaving Camelot. I had no doubt that we saved many lives by appealing to Igraine personally. However, it appeared that such a move had emboldened our enemy. Vivian would stop at nothing to take back the sword.
This was not the calm, peace-loving Lady of the Lake I knew from my childhood.
“Sir, if we divide our army, we can emerge along the trees. The men of the North will stand by their king.”
“That is good to hear, Nova. Let us do just that, but there is no sense in keeping quiet. Vivian will know that we return, and I will not sit back and watch Camelot fall to these flames.”
“Gareth will keep them safe, son. Alwen, stay close to your father.” And with that, my mother and Nova raced down the western slope, keeping careful to use the trees for coverage as long as they could. Nova’s leaders quickly divided the army into two, and each arm of the Northern presence swooped down like a thunderous herd. As we raced ten, twenty, fifty yards toward the city, I could smell wood burning and hear the cries of the people.
Thankfully, the rain did fall, and the fire had diminished by the time we reached Camelot.
“The king! The king has returned!” As we stormed around the front of the fortress, I drew my sword, but there was no one to fight. Vivian’s army apparently had not yet arrived, and I was utterly amazed. The gate began to swing open, and there was no great conflagration anymore. “King Arthur!” The men cheered as they spotted my mother riding under her banner, “Queen Igraine!” I slid Excalibur back into my sheath and held my daughter tightly as I raced into the courtyard.
“What has happened here?” I asked as the rain pelted me and Alwen slid off the horse with me behind her. She did not leave my side but clutched my arm as if she were fearful that any moment someone would come and steal her away from me. Never, Alwen. Never again.
“It was an accident, King Arthur. A fire too close to the wall caught the wood alight. It made a great flame and burned up that section of the wall, but it was caught in time, I think.” This was young Marcus, newly knighted and covered in soot. Gareth tossed a wooden pail to the side and immediately began to give a report.
“I cannot understand how this happened, Arthur. I am sorry to have caused you to fear—Queen Igraine! And can this be…” His joy faded quickly when he saw my daughter’s face.
“It is I, Sir Gareth. I am glad to be home.”
Without wasting a moment, Gareth bowed his head to my daughter and the queen. They greeted him, and he urged us to get out of the rain. “We will get that inner gate fixed immediately, sire. It’s not as bad as it looks, but the people are restless. Many of them do not want to be at crossed swords with Vivian. I confess I would never have believed that such a day would come.” He hurried us into the hall and introductions were made all around. Nova was known by
a few of the court; Queen Igraine had many friends here still. Gareth whispered his concerns, “Arthur, many have left Camelot. They do not want this war.”
Lancelot stormed toward me, his expression one of concern and anger. “Why would you leave without me, Arthur? Gareth did nothing but obstruct my attempts to come to your aid.” I could almost hear what he was thinking. I am not pleased with you, Arthur.
“You have another to think about now, Lancelot. Elaine needs you. Gareth only did what I asked him to do.” He hugged me in relief and greeted Igraine and Alwen kindly. Nova was eager to make his acquaintance as well.
Gareth continued, “As I said, my king, the people do not wish to go to war.”
“Neither do I, Gareth. But nevertheless, war has come. I will not relinquish the sword to Vivian. If I did, every upstart chieftain with an eye for kingship would waste no time in challenging me, and they would think they had a right to do so. Without Excalibur, there can be no peace,” I said dismally.
Igraine joined us at the table while Marcus busied himself gathering food for the Northerners and for us. For that I was thankful. I wondered about Guinevere, but I did not bother to ask how she fared. No one here would know, and her presence always unsettled Gareth.
Igraine said, “He is right, Gareth. Here is another thing to consider—Vivian may very well give the sword to another, as she has done in years past. Excalibur serves the Pendragon now, but it served another before Uther.”
“Who?” Alwen asked quietly.
“I am not permitted to speak his name, nor will I, for he was not an honorable king. I was so young that I barely remember him. Giving Excalibur back to Vivian will put your kingdom in peril.”
Despite my mother’s words of warning, not everyone in the hall agreed with her. I could sense the fear amongst them; they feared Vivian more than they feared losing Camelot.
Suddenly, I felt as if I had failed them as a king. Failed to inspire the vision of this place, failed to protect them. Failed to please the Lady of the Lake, who had bestowed the sword to me. And what had been my crime? I could not say for sure, except that I had been zealous to retrieve the Grail. Zealous to honor the New Ways and bring the fair city of Camelot into the Light. Was it that I had lacked devotion? That I did not faithfully serve the Old Ways to which Vivian adhered? How could that cause me to lose the sword? If there was a change in time, a separating of worlds, it was not at my hand. I had no authority to cloak Avalon in perpetual mists. It was the way of things. Things I had no control over.
I was at a loss.
Igraine rose from her seat and set her goblet down. She walked around the room, making eye contact with everyone who dared look at her. The many conversations ceased; not even the dogs gathered beneath the tables made a sound. All bowed their heads briefly, but they knew she was about to speak. First, she was sizing them up.
“What have we wrought here, people of Camelot? For decades, you enjoyed peace and prosperity. You were led with justice and fairness by both my husband and my son. Have you forgotten those long days of bread and beer? I know you are not cowards, yet I see the fear in some of your eyes. You cannot believe this is a battle we have sought. We must defend the city and keep Excalibur at the king’s side. This is not for vanity’s sake or for pride. You have endured so much already, that is true, but so have we.”
She picked up a short, shiny blade that someone had left on the table. She examined it before tapping it in her hand and continuing her study of the hundreds of faces that gathered in the hall. Word had gotten out quickly that Queen Igraine had returned and had made peace with her son.
“Haven’t we Pendragons given enough of our blood to prove our worthiness to serve and lead Camelot? What of my husband, Uther? Gone before his time. Killed by a coward. Many of you old lions remember him and served him without question. Then there were other battles, and you stood by Arthur, my son, and his son, Lochlon, although a few of you did not serve as well as you might. I see that all has been forgiven. Yet my grandson is dead, and my granddaughter…”
Alwen turned her head away and cried softly. A stirring at the door to the hall interrupted Igraine’s speech. Guinevere and Nimue appeared, their skin dirty, their clothing tattered. Both women’s skin was as pale as ever, and their eyes glistened slightly. More whispers erupted, but Igraine waved her hand before I could go to Guinevere.
“And yet another sacrifice for Camelot. My own daughter-in-law, Queen Guinevere, has given more than most; she has lost her humanity for your sake. For your sakes, people of Camelot! How much more can we give you? Excalibur must remain with Arthur! We must never surrender Camelot to the Lady. I too follow the Old Ways, but I will not be disloyal to my king. I was wrong to stand against him. I was not sure it was truly my son, but it is! Arthur has returned to us—the prophecy is true! Arthur is the Once and Future King. He has returned once more to serve his beloved city!”
The gathering erupted into cheers, and my heart was stirred to hear the sound. Igraine’s speech had been what the people needed to hear. For that, I would be forever grateful. Gareth and others hugged me, but for my part, I only wanted to gather my queen in my arms. The people crowded around me, touching me, smiling. They were ready now, ready to face whatever challenges Vivian sent our way. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Alwen retreating up the nearby staircase.
“What of Queen Guinevere?” a voice asked from the crowd. Ah, so the people heard the rumors about the massacre. They would not forget it, and they were determined to see her punished. Nimue clutched the queen’s hand and bowed her head in reverence, but Guinevere did not budge. She was as slender as the day I met her; still tall and straight like an arrow. Her dark red hair flowed over her shoulders, and pieces of leaves and dirt clods were evident. She looked like a wild thing that had just crawled out of the ground. Yes, she was a fearful sight to some. Her cheeks were gaunt, her eyes lovely but bright and penetrating. She said nothing at all and just watched me. What to say to the gathering? I love her with all my being. I had no chance to speak, for it was Igraine that stepped in front of me.
The air between the two queens practically crackled. Nimue took a step back and left Igraine and Guinevere to face one another. Lancelot whispered something to me, but I waved him to silence. Whatever would happen must happen. And whatever that was, I would forever stand by my queen.
“Queen Guinevere, you have been Excalibur’s protector. The sword knows and loves you, I think. What say you? Should we surrender the blade to Vivian? Let these people hear their queen.” And just by saying those few things, Igraine put right the ship. The people knew that Guinevere remained queen and was recognized by the former High Queen, Igraine.
“I would rather die a hundred deaths than see the sword leave my husband’s hands.”
The crowd cheered again, and there would be no further murmuring. One day, we would have to discuss the crimes that many attributed to her, but today was not that day. This was a time for rejoicing and preparation. Again we would fight, but this battle was for more than the attainment of a relic or a crusade for righteousness.
This battle would be for the heart of Camelot.
Chapter Sixteen—Guinevere
I left Nimue to make Arthur aware of the assault and of Merlin’s promise. He watched me with longing, but there was no time for that. Time was escaping me. I could not fathom why I should believe such a thing; I had lived for over a thousand years, many of them lonely. Yet, the feeling that it was all coming to an end engulfed me. And I could not face whatever my future might be, whether that was an eternity in oblivion or in hell, certainly not heaven, without doing what I must to make peace with Alwen.
I hurried up the stairs after her. She had been lingering there, listening to my declaration, but fled my presence like a traumatized teenager although she was not. By my reckoning, Alwen would be nearly thirty now. But then again, time moved so differently here. The door to her room squeaked on its hinges as it always did.
I did not ask for permission to enter. Alwen stood by the window, watching the circus below, but she knew I had come.
“I never thought I would see you again,” she said. “Where have you been?”
“Cast out,” I answered as honestly as I could.
“Cast out to where?” Her head turned slightly toward me, but she did not look me full in the face. My heart broke to see my child so untrusting of me. I could not read her mind, not as I could her father’s. I sensed fear and anger and knew I was the focus of both.
“To outer darkness, Alwen. It is a place I never want you to see.” I closed the door behind me. “I heard what you said to your father. That I was not your mother. Is that what you believe?”
“With so many people coming back from the dead, I half expect to see my brother walk through the door. Do you think that is possible?” And now she did face me, her expectations clear. She did hope such a thing would happen.
“I do not think he will, Alwen. He is once-born, as are you.”
“Why should that be so? My father came back, and so did you. Why not Lochlon and me?”
I stepped closer but not too close. She was near to tears now and still unhappy with my presence. “I do not know the answer to that, Alwen. I too am once-born, I believe, only I have been alive a very long time.”
Alwen sniffed as she tugged on the back of the chair. A piece of fabric had ripped, and her nervous fingers plucked at the thread. Once upon a time, I would have scolded her behavior and ask her not to destroy the chair, but those days were long gone. There were far more important things than embroidered chairs and tapestries and needlework.
“Is it true what they say about you? That you are a murderer and that you are a creature of the night; you consume blood to stay alive. That is what they say.” She stared at me, and the sight of her half-melted face sickened me. Not because it had marred her beauty but because I could not have prevented this from happening to her. I should have been here, should have remained in Camelot. But how could I have done that?
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