by Cori Chaffee
It took her two full seconds to leap from her mare and bound to where he was standing. She quickly pinned him to the tree that his horse was tied to, her slender arm braced against his neck. His eyes widened in shock as her goddess strength easily overpowered him.
‚You dare threaten me?' she roared with the fury of Aphrodite. I watched her brown eyes cloud and then shift to silver. Mordred’s face filled with terror, as any mortal’s would.
‚No. I meant no threat,' he stammered. ‚Truly, my queen.'
‚Really?' she purred as she stared into his eyes, her face pushed directly into his.
‚It seemed like you were.'
‚No,' he practically whimpered. ‚I apologize, my lady, if it seemed so. I would never threaten you. You are my queen. I mean you only respect and good wishes.'
There was a pregnant pause as she assessed him, with her arm frozen against his throat. Finally, her expression relaxed.
‚That’s better,' Guinevere murmured calmly, relaxing her hold just a bit. ‚Look into my eyes, Sir Mordred.'
He complied, staring into the silvery depths. I watched in fascination as she hypnotized him with her dulcet voice.
‚You will forget that this ever happened,' she instructed smoothly. ‚You were scouting this area and you came across no one. You never saw me, you never saw Heleyne. Do you understand?'
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Mordred grew limp against the tree as Guinevere’s soothing voice flowed over him like honey. Even the breeze complied with her, dying down to a gentle rustle, the grasses around us bending and swaying soothingly.
‚I never saw you, I never saw Heleyne,' he repeated in a monotone, staring at her blankly.
‚Get on your horse and ride back to the castle,' she instructed. ‚When you see us at dinner tonight, it will be the first time since breakfast that you’ve laid eyes upon us.'
Mordred nodded slowly.
‚Yes, my lady.'
She released him and stepped away, waiting for him to move. He stayed slumped against the tree, his eyes glazed over.
‚Go,' she instructed.
He snapped out of it, bobbing his head toward her before dutifully swinging up onto his horse. He galloped away, never looking back.
Guinevere looked at me, shrugging her thin shoulders. As I watched, her breathing returned to normal, the flush disappeared from her cheeks and the silver faded from her eyes, turning once again to deep brown.
‚Now, where were we?' she asked conversationally.
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Chapter Seven
After leaving Guinevere in her chambers, I wandered aimlessly through the bustling palace. I didn’t know where to begin looking for the sword and to be honest, I was preoccupied with leaving my mother alone. She insisted that she only wanted a nap, that using her goddess strength while in her mortal body had exhausted her. I knew that much was true. But I was anxious that she was secretly going to try and steal time with my father. They just couldn’t seem to stay apart.
I sighed. Even though they were very aware of the importance of our quest here and I knew they were completely committed to it, I also knew that my parents sometimes didn’t quite grasp the consequences of their actions. As Olympians, they only answered to Zeus and he was currently missing.
As I rounded a corner and turned into a narrow back hall, I heard whispering coming from a room to my right. My curiosity piqued, I poked my head inside the door. It was a small chapel. An altar stood in the front of the room while a massive stone cross leaned against the wall behind it. The cross was so large and heavy, that if it ever tipped over, it would crush anyone in its path.
Heavy wooden benches created rows and the atmosphere was calm and reverent.
The room was empty but for one person in the front, kneeling at the foot of the cross.
Arthur rested on his knees, his head bowed as he rapidly whispered prayers, a golden crucifix in his large hands.
The light poured in the one window, shining onto his golden curls. Sitting inside that ray of sunshine, he almost seemed angelic. Large and strong, with his sword lying at his side, he appeared as a handsome archangel. His face was creased with worry, however, and his eyes were squeezed tightly closed.
My slippered foot scraped against the stone floor ever so softly as I slipped into the room, but it made enough noise that Arthur heard it. His eyes sprang open and he stood, Excalibur gripped tightly in his hand as he turned.
When he saw me, his expression relaxed and I saw that in addition to worry, he seemed sad as well. His blue eyes were haunted and instantly brought to mind the exchange that I had witnessed between him and Morgan.
It was torturing him. That much was obvious.
‚Heleyne,' he greeted me in surprise. ‚I thought I was alone.'
‚Your highness,' I curtsied. ‚You were. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I apologize.' I started to back out of the room, but he held up his hand.
‚No, stay,' he requested quietly. ‚I could use some company. Please join me.'
His shoulders slumped as he slid into the front pew, as though they held the weight of the world. I instantly felt sorry for him. My nature as the goddess of contentment Courtney Cole 39
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made me more sensitive to the pain of others than the average person, but anyone could see the agony etched on this man’s face. My stomach tightened in response as I padded down the aisle to sit next to him.
‚Your highness, are you alright?' I asked softly, staring into his face. He gazed at the ground in front of us, absently fidgeting with the handle of Excalibur. The rubies embedded within the hilt glittered in the light and threw red spots on the wall next to us.
‚I am not sure,' he admitted finally. ‚I will be, I’m sure, because I always am. But I am tormented by something. I wish to speak to someone, to draw wise counsel from someone, and yet there is no one that I can turn to with this trouble. You cannot imagine how that feels, can you, Heleyne?'
He turned his pained eyes to me and my heart broke, because they were red and watery. He was in pain and there was nothing I could do for him.
‚Your highness… I…' I didn’t know what to say. I decided to break rules of etiquette and picked up his hand, squeezing it softly. He allowed the contact and seemed to draw some comfort in it.
‚You’re bound by oath,' he pondered, staring thoughtfully at my face. ‚I could confide in you and you would be unable to share what I tell you with anyone, not even my wife.'
I nodded silently. It was true. Anyone who had confessed fealty to the king was bound by oath.
‚But I realize how close you are to my wife,' he added, slumping once more, ‚So, I won’t ask you to listen.'
Pain emanated from him and I longed to hug him, to try and absorb some of his sorrow so that he didn’t have to carry it alone, but that was impossible. For a man of great honor, breaking his marriage vows, even unknowingly, was a great sin. I knew his heart was shattered and I knew that I couldn’t alleviate that.
‚What of Merlin?' I asked. ‚Can you not confide in him?'
‚No,' he answered softly. ‚I cannot. Not about this.'
‚Very well,' I replied. ‚Please, your highness. Tell me anything you wish. I can see that you need to unburden. I am loyal to you and I will share what you tell me with no one, not even the queen. I hope that I am able to help you.'
‚Truly?' he asked, appraising me quietly. ‚I do not wish to overburden you.'
‚It will not be a burden,' I answered confidently. ‚I wish to help.'
My words opened a dam. For the next half an hour, King Arthur spilled his heart to me on the front pew of the chapel. Tears streaked down his cheeks as he spoke and more than once, I reached up to wipe them away. He was filled with sadness and I could not fix it. But I could hold his hand and listen.
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‚My soul is sick,' he concluded. ‚I feel physically ill at what I have done and I cannot get over it. It is constantly in my mind, even when I should be thinking of matters of this kingdom. I have wronged my wife so completely. I have gone against nature. I am a monster.'
My heart wrenched in two. How could I not comfort such a man? He was good and kind and loyal. For the Moirae to have played with his fate, to have manipulated it into this twisted situation was just wrong. And I found, in this moment, that I couldn’t comply with it.
‚If you just speak with Guinevere,' I suggested softly, ‚If you just tell her what has happened, I am certain that she will forgive you. This was not your fault. You would never have willingly done such a thing. Guinevere knows your heart, your highness.
She loves you.'
And she did. My mother had a fondness for him as did everyone else who knew him. It was impossible not to.
‚But I cannot,' he answered in resignation. ‚To do so, to admit to Queen Guinevere what has happened, would be to sign my sister’s death warrant. No matter what she has done, I do not think I can do that. I cannot burn her at the stake as a witch. I could not live with myself.'
‚But yet… you cannot live with yourself now, for something that Morgan has done to you?' I raised my eyebrows. ‚My king, you are good and kind. Everything knows this. Your sister, please forgive me for saying so, is using your own traits against you.
She knows that you will not want to harm her, even after she has harmed you.'
‚Knowing of my sister’s manipulative ways does not change my heart,' he replied tiredly. ‚Replacing one wrong with another does not make anything right.'
‚Might for Right, not Might makes Right, yes?' I quoted his own creed back to him.
When he had formed the Roundtable, he decreed to live by a set of rules and one of them was to use his strength for the public, not to use it against them. It was a belief that he lived by.
‚Yes,' he sighed. ‚Might for Right.'
I fell silent, considering his situation. If he admitted what had happened to the queen, if it passed from his lips to her ears, then he would be forced to punish Morgan.
There had to be some way to ease his pain, some way that didn’t add to it. I wracked my brain.
‚What if….' I began, but trailed off.
‚Yes?' he asked, his face so hopeful that I couldn’t resist it.
‚What if I am the one who spoke to the queen on your behalf?' I suggested weakly.
To interfere in such a way was not bright. I knew it even as I spoke, but I couldn’t help it. He was shouldering so much pain already.
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‚I could explain what has happened and tell her that you long to discuss it with her, but that you cannot. I am sure she will understand and forgive you, and your heart will be unburdened. Your marriage will be cleansed of lies.'
‚You would do that?' he asked, his voice wavering. ‚Truly?'
I nodded, swallowing hard. ‚Yes. Truly. If the queen understands and forgives you, then Morgan cannot extort her will from you. She will have no leverage.'
He grinned broadly and leaned over to engulf me in a tight bear hug. I could scarcely breathe, my face smashed against his broad chest. He finally released me and I took a big breath, filling my lungs with much needed oxygen. He laughed and I had to smile in reaction. The king looked better already.
I wish I could say the same for myself. My birthmark, which had been bewitched to ache whenever I did something that the Fates did not approve of, was throbbing mercilessly. I tried to ignore it, gripping it tightly with my other hand.
‚I’m glad to be of help,' I murmured meekly.
‚Of help?' King Arthur asked with raised eyebrows. ‚You’ve saved me. Make no mistake about that. You have saved me, Heleyne, and I am indebted to you.'
‚No,' I shook my head. ‚You are not.'
‚We’ll agree to disagree then,' he nodded, ‚Although… I’m the king so I am always right.' He threw his head back and laughed, the carefree sound ringing through the chapel. ‚I owe you and if you should ever need me, I will assist you. I always repay my debts.'
I was just murmuring a thank you when Merlin strolled in.
His black eyes cut me like a knife and I flinched. I could see in them that he knew what I had just done, how I had just agreed to interfere on the king’s behalf. To interfere in this now was to interfere with Fate, something I had never purposely done. His face was stark and severe as he entered the chapel.
‚Your highness?' Merlin called down the aisle. ‚Your attention is required in the Knight’s Hall. Could you accompany me?'
Although he spoke to Arthur, his gaze was pinned on me, holding me tightly to the wooden pew. The king didn’t notice. Arthur couldn’t see the way my shoulders were restrained against my will. I felt my backbone grind into the hard seat and I gritted my teeth. Merlin was punishing me for my interference and I was sure that he would have more to say on the matter later.
‚Of course, Merlin,' Arthur answered, rising from the pew. ‚I’d be happy to. What is the issue?' Turning to me, he lifted my hand and kissed it with royal lips.
‚Lady Heleyne, I thank you for your ear and for your kind words and assistance. I look forward to your company at dinner.'
With that, he strode down the aisle to join Merlin and they discussed Merlin’s issue as they disappeared down the hall.
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I will speak to you later.
Merlin’s voice appeared in my mind just as clearly as if he was standing next to me and he released his hold on me. I stretched my shoulders as I shook my head, willing myself not to answer him in kind. As a mortal, I had never been able to return his silent messages to me. I couldn’t do it now as much as I might want to offer a sharp retort.
Instead, I gathered my heavy skirts and retreated from the chapel to find my mother.
She wasn’t going to be happy when she discovered that I had interfered. She didn’t want to see Arthur suffer either, but as she had already pointed out, interfering would cause changes and we had no idea what the consequences of that might be. I sighed.
I descended the stairs and walked quietly past the Hall of Knights. As I passed the cavernous room, I glanced inside. Merlin had his back to me as he stared out an open window. The cool breeze blew through and pushed my hair off of my forehead.
The knights were seated around the large roundtable. All of them leaned on the famed table wearing serious expressions.
‚The Saxons have dispatched mercenaries?' Arthur demanded incredulously.
‚How do we know that it wasn’t the Romans?'
‚We do not,' Merlin admitted from the window. ‚It could be either.'
‚What is important, your highness, is that we are being invaded by pervasive tactics. We have not faced this before,' Lucan spoke from across the table. ‚These intruders are acting as marauders from our own country, seeking to instigate riots among our own by pillaging and murdering to undermine the king’s competence in protecting the people. It must stop.'
There were murmurings of agreement and I watched Lucan for a moment from the doorway. He was intense and focused as he assessed the threat to his country. His sense of honor was outweighed by nothing else. He was created to be a warrior.
He glanced up and saw me watching and dipped his head in acknowledgement before he returned his attention to his peers. The simple act of his gaze meeting mine caused my heart to thrill. And with that, I remembered my purpose here, my sole purpose in life. I had to save him.
Walking on, my thoughts were consumed with Lucan as I made my way to Guinevere’s quarters. I was determined to save him and I lived for seeing him.
Whatever it took, I would find the sword. But first, I had to speak to Guinevere about Arthur.
Opening her door quietly, I was immediatel
y assailed by the scent of roses.
Glancing around inside, I had to laugh. There were hundreds of them here. As usual, my mother had gone overboard. I inhaled the thick scent as I made my way to her massive, curtained bed.
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And I froze in my tracks. Standing next to her bed, clad in a dark gown and veil, was Morgan le Fey . Eris. She was standing motionlessly over my mother, watching her as she slept. My heart practically stopped beating and I gasped.
At the sound, Morgan’s head snapped around and she all but snarled. Before I could even react, she was gone from the room in a flash, disappearing in a blur of black through the doorway. Like a streak, I followed her, watching the spot of color slip around the corner of the hall. Using goddess speed, I followed her.
My pursuit landed me at the doorway of a room in the bottom of the castle. At the very dregs, next to the dungeon, the door I was facing was plain and wooden, free of any embellishment whatsoever. Breathing quickly, I pushed the door open.
Morgan faced me from across the room, standing over a shimmering mirror.
‚What are you?' she hissed. ‚You are not human.'
‚Why were you in the queen’s rooms?' I answered her question with a question.
‚You have no right to be there.'
‚I can feel that there is something different about you,' she replied. ‚And something different about her, as well. I will determine what it is.'
‚You cannot enter the queen’s chambers for a whim,' I sniffed. ‚That is not your right, even as the king’s sister. And certainly not when he is so disgusted with you.'
She clenched her jaw and I could tell that I struck a nerve. She had used her position as Arthur’s sister to her advantage on more than one occasion. It annoyed her that it was a perilous position now, even though it was of her own doing.
‚And you,' she snarled. ‚You act so pious and wise, yet I have seen that you will be undone by a child. A child! All that you are, everything that you value, will rest in the hands of a child. Yet you speak to me as though I am the fool.'
My heart slammed in my chest. I would be undone by a child? What the hell was she talking about? I focused on her malicious face, pushing the troubling thoughts away. I could think on them later.
