Over the months we spent studying the stars in Avalon, I came to know every inch of Aggrivane’s body by sunlight and starlight. Now, in the near darkness, I found that I could trace each scar that raised his skin and took comfort in the familiar contours of his body. His kisses grew more intense and I happily yielded my body to him, safe and content in his arms.
When the moments of pleasure had passed, we drowsed in each other’s arms, dreaming of a life together as a faraway nightingale sang his nocturnal hymn.
“Why do you not ask my father for my hand?” I asked Aggrivane. “You are a lord in your own right, not a slave like Evrain would have you believe. My father would be happy to rid his house of me, I assure you.”
He laughed. “I doubt that to be true.” He fell into silent contemplation. “I could not ask your father in front of Lord Evrain. That would break the pact he made with my father, and Evrain would declare a war of honor upon us.”
I sat up on my arms and gazed at him hopefully, my mind racing. “Perhaps you could find some reason to stay behind when Lord Evrain leaves. He would be happy to unload you into the care of my father. We both know that.”
All that remained was the unanswered question—why? Why would my father allow Aggrivane to stay? I listened to the chirping of the crickets and the soft snuffling of the horses, praying for an answer. Somewhere in the distance, the low murmur of voices signaled the changing of the guard and, suddenly, I knew.
I grabbed Aggrivane by the shoulders, and the words tumbled out in a rush of excitement. “Rhys is the best swordsman in Northgallis. My father has forbidden me to practice the arts of battle, so I know Rhys would have room for an additional student. You could study with him for a few months in exchange for teaching my cousin Bran some of the knowledge you gained on the Druids’ isle. Besides, Bran would love to have someone near his age to spar with.”
Aggrivane regarded me warily. “But would your father allow my teaching? He seems set against all you learned in Avalon. Plus, I hear tell of a priest that trails at your father’s heels. He is not likely to accept another of the old faith into your household.”
I waved a hand dismissively. “Then do not teach him the secrets of the isle, but entrust to him the knowledge of language, reading, and the written word. Every lord should have such training, but with the constant threat from the Irish, there has been little opportunity to school Bran in such things. As for Marius, I have yet to meet this deity made flesh, but no man has ever held sway over my father, least of all a priest.”
Aggrivane kissed my lips softly. “You are not going to stop until I agree to present this proposal to your father, are you?”
I grinned and shook my head.
“Well then, it is settled. Upon the dawn, I will ask for a private audience with your father and tell all to him.”
I kissed him hard on the mouth. “Let us then thank the Goddess for our good fortune.” I pulled him down to the soft straw and closed my eyes, reveling in the joy that this man would soon be my husband.
“I assure you, my lord, no finer animal ever walked the earth.”
Aggrivane and I froze, clasped together in fear. Had we slept? Somehow we had missed the lords’ approach and were likely to be discovered. Evrain’s drunken slur was unmistakable. The voices were quickly drawing near the stables.
Aggrivane’s eyes had grown large, and I could tell by the tilt of his head that he was listening to sounds my untrained ears could not hear.
I slipped on my dress, looking around wildly like a trapped animal, but there was no way to escape. There was nowhere to hide, and the men were nearly at the only door.
“What do we do?” I hissed at Aggrivane, trembling in fear.
Aggrivane hastily pulled on his tunic. “Hide your face with your hair and bury your head in my chest. I will speak to them, and if the gods are with us, we will escape unharmed.”
He kissed the top of my head one last time before the door swung open and Lord Evrain burst in, incoherently bragging about his horse, followed by the confident stride of my father and a lighter, shuffling footstep that I could only assume belonged to Fergus.
“Pure Eastern blood, I tell you. Sired by a Pegasus and stolen from a Saracen warrior. He was shipped here by the tradesmen in my employ. Many a lord has offered a handsome sum for his offspring, but I—”
Evrain had obviously seen us. I could imagine the look on my father’s face.
“Well, what have we here?” Evrain bellowed.
I clung ever tighter to Aggrivane and willed myself to be completely still and silent.
“It appears our young ward has found himself a willing serving maid.”
I felt Evrain step closer and said a silent prayer of thanks that Octavia had thought to outfit me in one of her old dresses to fool the guards in case I was seen coming here.
Evrain fingered my hair, and I could not suppress a cringe as I turned my face farther away from him.
From his tone, Evrain sounded to be appraising my worth. “Dark hair, strong body. Is she related to that Roman woman who served us at dinner?” He chuckled salaciously to himself. “If she is, then you have found yourself one fine wench, lad.”
Aggrivane dropped his gaze to the floor. “Truly, I do not know, sir. We have barely spoken.”
Evrain howled with laughter and gave Aggrivane a hearty slap on the back. “That’s the way, my boy. The less they say, the better they are. Isn’t that right, Leodgrance?”
My father cleared his throat and mumbled a polite agreement.
“My lord,” Aggrivane addressed my father, “forgive this woman for not bowing to you as you deserve. She is embarrassed and fears punishment.” He positioned himself between the lords and me.
“Indeed, I see no need for retribution. It is late, and we should all to bed,” my father responded.
Something in his tone told me that my father knew that the woman trembling behind the curtain of black hair was no serving maid. I breathed a sigh of relief as I heard them turn toward the door. Just then, I felt something crawling up my arm, its many legs tickling my skin. Without thinking, I shook off the spider and the sleeve of my gown fell back around my elbow.
“Wait!” Evrain roared. “What is this?” Evrain stalked toward us and jerked my wrist, wrenching me away from Aggrivane’s protection.
He held up my arm, and Fergus’s bracelet bled ruby teardrops in the lantern light.
Damn! How could I have forgotten to remove that vile trinket?
“My lord,” Evrain called, “it appears your maid is not only a strumpet, but a thief as well.”
He pulled me roughly toward him. His breath stank of drink and decay as he leered at me through the raven strands that separated us. “Now, let us see what kind of creature you have trapped, Lord Aggrivane.”
He yanked back my hair as if he meant to pull it out by the roots. I summoned all my courage and raised my face to him. His eyes bulged as he beheld the mark of priestesshood on my brow, and recognition spread across his face.
“Is this how you raised your daughter to behave, my Lord Leodgrance?” Evrain spewed rage like a boiling kettle. “I knew when you married that northern savage she would be no example to your children, and then God cursed you with a daughter as your only living child.”
It was nearly dawn. Evrain had been raving for what felt like hours, pacing the length of the audience chamber under the watchful gaze of Father Marius, my father’s newfound savior. Aggrivane stood at a distance, his stoic silence masking the pain and fear buried deep within his troubled eyes.
“My poor son lies in his chamber, distraught by her betrayal.” Evrain pointed an accusatory finger toward me.
More likely you locked him there.
“And she has disgraced me, a guest invited on your honor. My lord, she is blight on your entire house. She must be punished.”
“She is also my daughter,” my father said angrily.
Evrain knew he had overstepped his bounds. “I beg your pardon, m
y lord.” He paused, steepled hands pressed to his lips in thought. “But the fact remains that these two were caught in an immoral embrace.” He regarded Aggrivane coldly. “My son was openly courting your daughter. By the agreement I struck with the Lord of Lothian, this boy had no right to take what belonged to my son.”
Aggrivane surged angrily toward the throne. “Guinevere belongs to no one, especially not your son.” He faced Lord Evrain squarely with more fierceness than I had ever seen. “And especially not to you. If she belongs to anyone, it is me, the man to whom she swore her intention to marry and to whom she freely, willingly gave her heart.”
“And her body,” Evrain added with a leering snarl. “Lord Aggrivane, you have broken the agreement I made with your father, and so you will leave my house in disgrace and return to him. I will ensure your father pays dearly for your insolence.” The promise of retribution lit his eyes with manic intensity. He turned toward my father. “I demand punishment of his paramour. Without it, there can be no peace between our lands.”
I looked with suspicion upon the man who threatened my future. Aggrivane was right; there was more to his plan than healing a breach of honor. Evrain was fishing for something.
The morning cock crowed as my father sat staring into the distance, considering his options. Father Marius too seemed to be weighing the alternatives, his milky blue eyes hardening in meditative concentration.
“There is one solution that I believe will be pleasing to all parties,” my father stated.
I jumped at the sudden breech of silence. My father motioned me forward to stand before him like a prisoner receiving her sentence.
“Lord Pellinor of Dyfed has extended an offer to allow you to live with his family. I was not going to ask you to leave so soon, but your behavior has left me no choice. Perhaps under their guidance you will learn how to behave like a lady—a Christian lady.”
My heart was pounding, blood rushing in my ears. I could no longer contain the fury that was building inside me. “Have I no say in my own fate? When did Northgallis become a kingdom of tyranny?” I directed his attention to the sacred mark upon my brow. “I made my choice long ago, Father. I have chosen to live my life with Aggrivane, following the ways of our ancestors—of my mother’s people—the way of Avalon, free from the oppression of Rome.” I locked my arm possessively around Aggrivane’s.
My father’s face darkened with rage. “Child, I am your father, forget not that! My father was a Roman, and by virtue of that lineage, I am free to invoke Roman law, under which you are my property to do with as I please! I could have you killed or sold into slavery or prostitution if I so chose, without even the slightest question or repercussion falling on me.”
He rose from his chair and bent down so he stood face to face with me, gripping my shoulders. Terrible strain marred his bloodshot eyes. “Be thankful I think so highly of you, Guinevere. All I have chosen is for you to live in the house of a kind nobleman who will see that you are well treated and well prepared for your future role as wife. Is that so much to ask, daughter?”
I should have remained silent, but the willfulness I inherited from my mother would not let me. “And who here would enforce that Roman law you threaten me with, Father? Rome hasn’t given us a thought in over half a century. From whom do you draw your authority?”
That was the wrong thing to say.
“It was Rome who gave Britain an understanding of herself as a nation rather than a land of scattered tribes.” My father was in his full battle fury now. “It was from Rome that Britain learned to combine her scattered forces effectively. It was by her lesson that our clans learned to live under single rule. Without Rome, our high king could not now be contemplating his united kingdom. The past glories of imperial ties spark within our family blood. You are no one to criticize Rome!”
I broke away from his grasp before he could strike me, retreating to face him from the far corner. “You never treated me like a Roman daughter when I was growing up. If you had, I could accept this now. You always gave me the freedom and respect that first drew you to my mother and her people. But now that she is dead, all that must end.”
My father looked as if I had just broken his heart. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words followed.
“Leodgrance, do not forget that your wife died possessed by the devil,” Father Marius said softly. He had been waiting for this very opportunity. In a flash of scarlet robes, he stood between us, bidding me be silent with wave of his hand.
“Liar!” I lunged toward him, intent on scratching out his eyeballs, but Aggrivane restrained me in a firm grip.
“Foolish child, I speak the truth.” Father Marius spat his words at me with none of the compassion with which he claimed to mark his faith. “All women scream in childbirth in reparation for the sins of the flesh, but Corinna’s extreme suffering could only have come from the devil, sent to punish her for giving her daughter over to the pagans instead of to the Church.”
I struggled against Aggrivane’s grasp, but he held me fast.
“Do not make things worse for yourself, love,” he whispered.
Marius was clearly enjoying himself. “Why else would the child inside her have died? The devil runs wild in this savage country, causing old women to claim to see visions of the future and men to be morally repugnant.” He cast an accusatory eye to Aggrivane before returning his attention to my father. “Why, this new king of ours is nothing more than the devil’s own puppet—advised as he is by the high priest of heathens. No, Leodgrance, there was no hope for your wife. When she gave her daughter to the evil isle, she gave up her very soul. The only thing that could have saved her would have been a life of penance and austerity in the cloister. Even then she may have suffered in the afterlife.”
He turned his bitter eyes toward me but refused to look into my face. “Your child here is already following the same path, wanton as she has proven herself to be. Do you wish her to suffer the same fate?”
My father suddenly looked old and weary. He sighed, the sound of a defeated man. “No, I do not.” He sank back into his chair. Summoning his strength, he issued the final verdict. “Guinevere, you will live with Lord Pellinor’s household until such time as a husband is chosen for you. Lord Evrain, I beg your forgiveness for any affront caused by the events of this night.” He pounded his fist on the arm of his throne, sending a heavy blast echoing off the walls. “This is my will, and as I have proclaimed, so it shall be.”
Father Marius regarded me with an icy stare. “I will pray that your party makes it to Dyfed before the first snowfall,” he said, but there was no sincerity behind his words.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I hardly noticed the journey south.
I had lost everything I had ever loved: my family in Avalon, my mother, my lover, and now my father. Even Octavia was forbidden to accompany me. Once again, I was alone, facing the prospect of another new home; it seemed like each time I traveled somewhere new, my heart became heavier, weighed down by another form of pain.
Life had just begun to feel normal again. The homesickness I had felt for Avalon had begun to fade; the shock and blinding grief that gripped my soul at my mother’s death had begun to loosen just enough to let me breathe again; even my father had shown a flicker of his old genial nature—and then all the wounds were slashed open in a single instant.
My horse trod the miles without prodding or direction, as if he was as resigned to his fate as I was mine. The countryside passed without my knowledge. All I could see in my mind’s eye was Aggrivane. The memory of him was the one thing that enabled me to draw breath—the light of his smile, the softening of his eyes each time they found mine, the warmth of his breath.
When Aggrivane and I parted in Avalon, I’d accepted it was unlikely we would ever see one another again. Of course I missed him, thought of him, dreamed of him, but that was all it was; it seemed more fantasy than reality. But when I saw him standing in the entryway of Northgallis, an unexpected beacon in my
dark world, he had been real, as was our love—overwhelmingly, tantalizingly, achingly real. As our bodies came together, so did our hearts, our souls, permanently intertwined among our limbs like mistletoe in the boughs of an oak. When he whispered that he would marry me, my world was complete once again.
No matter what my father or that horrid priest said, he would always be mine. I couldn’t let him go, but I couldn’t be with him either, and it was tearing me apart.
The fissure in my heart seemed to expand every time I thought of him returning to Lothian. Surely his father would be merciful, would he not? Lot was widely known as a man of great integrity and strength of will. Aggrivane spoke highly of his father and it was clear that they loved one another, so he would understand; he had to. Perhaps Lot would even see the injustice that was done to us and send his men to rescue me from my prison. Then we could be together forever, just as we had intended.
Even now I could feel Aggrivane’s hand in mine as we wound our ways to unknown fates. I knew with absolute certainty that as my body drew ever closer to Dyfed, a small shard of my soul journeyed northeast to Lothian with him.
I could barely breathe as I waited outside the large oak doors of the great hall. Corbenic was a large holding, much more imposing than my own home, and standing here surrounded by guards did nothing to make me feel welcome. Inside, Lord Pellinor and Lady Lyonesse were holding court. With a murmur of voices, they attended to the room full of courtiers, common folk, and emissaries, each with their own agenda or case to plead.
The men around me shifted anxiously and stomachs rumbled audibly as the minutes ticked by. My feet were beginning to get stiff and sore when a servant emerged from the suddenly silent room to beckon us in. When I stepped through the doorway, I was greeted by a press of people on either side, strange faces peering at me with open curiosity or obvious distain. I began to sweat under the weight of their judgment, and I tried to ignore the feeling I was being paraded in front of the entire court like a criminal.
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