Galahad stared, but she recovered enough to say, "Well done! You struck him down."
Talwyn whirled around. "What are you doing here? I thought I was alone."
"I just happened by and wanted to look at the roses." Now that she was pretending to be a young man, Galahad was becoming accustomed to telling lies. "I didn't know you could fight."
Talwyn put her hands behind her back. "I can't. I was just pretending."
"No, your fighting stance was too good for that. You must be learning, and I can guess who is teaching you—and why he would." Galahad grinned.
Talwyn flushed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't worry. I know his secret, but would never tell. And now I know yours."
Galahad was tempted to say, "Give me a kiss and I won't tell," but she knew that would be wrong.
"You men don't want girls to be able to fight so we could fend you off," Talwyn complained, frowning. She was prickly as the pink roses, and just as pretty. How sweetly Talwyn's curly hair hung down her back.
"You don't need any defenses against me, Lady Talwyn. I'm so smitten with your beauty that I'm helpless around you." Galahad moved near a stone bench as if waiting for Talwyn to sit on it, but Talwyn remained standing.
"Don't talk such nonsense." Talwyn shook her head. "I don't want to flirt with men."
"Good, that's understood." Galahad smiled. She had an inspiration. "In fact, I'll help you learn to fight, if you'd like extra tutoring." She executed several swift fighting moves, though like Talwyn she was weaponless.
For the first time, Talwyn smiled. "Perhaps you can help. I'm learning how to fight in rooms only. I want to know how to fight on horseback, but my teacher won't let me. Would you?"
"Go out riding in the woods alone with you? Yes, indeed. Of course I'll show you how to fight on horseback." Galahad wanted to shout with delight. Things with Talwyn were going to be even better than Galahad had hoped.
"That's the only reason I'm going to ride with you. Don't flatter yourself." Talwyn rapped Galahad's knuckles lightly. "I know you have more training than I have. Just don't lord it over me. I can't bear that," Talwyn warned.
"I won't. I'm not a lord, so no lording." Galahad tried to hold Talwyn's hand.
"You sound as if you're used to having secret meetings with girls. Perhaps I shouldn't go with you." Talwyn stepped back.
"No, I'm not. I swear, no secret meetings ever before." Galahad assumed an air of innocence that was, unfortunately, real.
"Queen Guinevere allows me a little time to myself, which few other girls have. I think I can get away tomorrow morning at breakfast time. No one else but Lancelot goes riding that early. I'll tell the stablehands I'm taking my horse to the pasture, but not that we're going beyond the gates." Talwyn walked to the garden's gate. "I'll meet you just outside the outer wall."
"Nothing would keep me away." Galahad went off whistling. Strange, no one had whistled at the convent, but she always had. Some of the guards at Camelot whistled, but none of the warriors did except Gawaine, who could whistle entire tunes.
The next morning they set off. Galahad's heart beat fast. Talwyn had pulled back her generally unruly hair and concealed something, obviously a sword, under her cloak.
Thrushes sang, but Talwyn's voice, telling about a book she had read, sounded sweeter. "Why didn't the Trojans heed what Cassandra was saying? Men don't pay enough attention to women's words."
"Indeed they don't," Galahad readily agreed.
"Do you really believe that?" Talwyn scrutinized Galahad's face.
Galahad crossed her heart. "More than you can imagine."
"But do you honestly believe that girls should learn to fight, too?"
Galahad smiled. "I have a sister who passes for a man, and I approve wholeheartedly."
"Oh, how splendid!" Talwyn's eyes lit up. "I'd love to meet her!"
"I hope you will someday." Everything was perfect. The sunlight streamed through the trees. Galahad thought she had never been so happy. The light made traces of gold in Talwyn's brown hair. "What pretty hair you have."
Talwyn frowned. "Please don't flirt with me. I stay away from flirting because I don't want to marry and have babies. I saw my mother die in childbed." She shuddered.
Galahad bowed her head. "How sad. I don't want children, either."
Wide-eyed, Talwyn pulled back. "You can't be telling the truth! I never heard of a man who thought such a thing, except for a monk."
"It's true, I care nothing about having children. I have nothing for them to inherit, anyway," Galahad insisted, wondering how much she dared to tell. "I promise you, I'll never make you with child." She was telling only the truth.
"You certainly won't, because I'll never let you." Talwyn tossed her head. "You shouldn't even say such a thing to me."
They came to a clearing, where only bracken grew. It would be a perfect place to dismount, and to do a great many other things.
"I need to learn how to rescue maidens." Talwyn took off the cloak that covered her sword. "So you can pretend to be a maiden, and I'll rescue you."
"What!" Galahad gasped. "I can't pretend to be a girl."
"Oh, indeed!" Talwyn tossed her head. "So that's what you really think about women. You believe you're so much better than we are that you won't even pretend to be one for a morning."
"No, no, that's not what I mean." Galahad felt more trapped than she had when another aspiring warrior had backed her up against the wall in fighting practice.
"If you won't pretend to be a maiden in distress, I'll go back to Camelot right now." Talwyn began to turn her horse.
"But Talwyn, if I am the maiden, who would you fight?" Galahad pleaded.
"I want to learn how to sweep a maiden off her horse and onto mine. All you have to do is let your horse run as if you couldn't control it," Talwyn explained, though her voice still showed exasperation.
Galahad thought fast. "As you wish. That I can do." Lancelot had taught her how to swing to the side of her horse and to leap from her horse onto another. She dug her heels into her horse's flanks, making it run so suddenly that it was startled.
Talwyn rode behind her.
"Help! Help! I'm falling!" Galahad cried, and let herself slip from her saddle, just a bit, until Talwyn could catch up with her.
Talwyn rode beside her. "I'll save you!"
Appearing to let herself fall, Galahad actually leapt onto Talwyn's horse, landing in Talwyn's arms. She then kissed Talwyn on the lips.
"How dare you!" Talwyn exclaimed—after returning the kiss.
"But that's how maidens thank fighters who rescue them. All the tales say so." Galahad held onto to Talwyn as if she might fall off otherwise.
"Not if Lancelot rescues them!" Talwyn protested, but she didn't pull away.
"I'm pretending you're someone else, not Lancelot," Galahad said.
Suddenly, as if summoned, Lancelot rode into the clearing, and she called out, "Galahad! Talwyn! What are you doing?"
Galahad had never been less eager to see the woman warrior.
"I was teaching Talwyn how to fight on horseback, and she wanted to learn how to rescue a maiden who was falling off her horse," Galahad explained, thinking the excuse sounded feeble.
Talwyn stopped her horse, and Galahad slipped off it.
"Talwyn, I've told you that you can't practice outdoors because someone might see you!" Lancelot's voice was stern. "And you both know that it's improper for you to be alone together, much less to hold each other. I'm very disappointed in you."
"Please, Lord Lancelot, I just wanted to learn how to fight." Talwyn used a wheedling tone.
"To fight, or to kiss?" Lancelot demanded, frowning at them.
"The kiss was entirely my fault. Talwyn is blameless," Galahad asserted, whistling for her own horse.
"You could destroy Talwyn's reputation. You know better than that," Lancelot chided her. "You must never meet like this again. The lessons Talwyn has with me should be adequat
e."
Oh, have mercy, Galahad thought but did not say. She sighed.
Lancelot looked from one of them to the other. "Talwyn, I hope you understand that you must maintain some distance from any young man. You must be a little shy with each other," she admonished in her most teacherly voice.
"Oh, please, I'm shy enough," exclaimed Galahad.
"So am I. I am excessively shy and modest," Talwyn asserted. "I am a maiden's maiden."
"Would that you were," Galahad muttered, then added in a louder voice, "Of course you are."
"This was my first kiss." Talwyn blushed prettily.
"Mine, too," Galahad said.
"Truly?" Talwyn and Lancelot asked in unison, and they both raised their eyebrows.
Galahad nodded. Of course it was unusual for a male of her age to never have kissed a girl. Wouldn't this revelation help Lancelot guess the truth? Why couldn't she see it? "It would be
proper for us to meet at times if you accompanied us, wouldn't it? Would that be asking too much?"
"I'm not at all sure that I should encourage you." Lancelot's voice still was stern. "And of course Queen Guinevere would have to give her permission for you to spend time with Talwyn."
"It's no use to ask her, she never would," Talwyn whined. She pouted at her teacher. "Galahad says that he likes me. Is there any proper way that he can show that?"
Lancelot's frown took in both of them. "Has he made bold to say such a thing?"
Galahad flinched, but Talwyn quickly spoke up. "I have thought of a way that he could show he is fond of me without doing anything improper."
"What is it?" Galahad was a little apprehensive, but surely the plan could not be too bold if Talwyn would speak of it before Lancelot. "Do you want me to fight someone for you?"
"You could make me a gown. That would be a great test. I have never heard of a man doing that for a woman." Talwyn smiled as if proud of her idea.
Galahad groaned with dismay. "Make you a gown! I have no idea how to sew."
"You couldn't be worse at it than I am," Talwyn insisted, making a gesture with her sword. "I have sewn for years, but I can't make a seam straight and my stitches always fall out in no time at all."
Galahad's heart sank. What if someone saw her sewing and guessed that she was a woman? "But must sweethearts sew for each other? Lord Lancelot and Queen Guinevere don't make or repair each other's clothing, do you, Lord Lancelot?"
"No, neither of us ever thought of such a thing," Lancelot said, her mouth twitching as if she suppressed a laugh.
"I want to know that you don't think you're better than I am because you are a man." Talwyn sheathed her sword. "Don't you think it's a fair test, Lord Lancelot?"
"It's certainly a difficult test," Lancelot replied, shaking her head. "I can't think of any man who would be willing to take it."
Galahad sighed. In this way at least, she could vie for Talwyn's affections in a way that no man might match. "What material do you want the gown made of, Talwyn? Will you show me how to do it?"
"Of course I'll show you, but that only means that you'll learn from the worst seamstress at Camelot," Talwyn chortled, triumphant.
Then Galahad began to grin. "At least I can look forward to the fittings."
"Galahad!" Lancelot scowled.
"You certainly cannot," Talwyn snapped, moving her horse away. "One of the serving women can do those."
"No unseemly jests, Galahad," Lancelot warned. "I'll ride back with you, but I'll go ahead of you and allow you to speak with each other."
As soon as Lancelot had ridden off ahead, Galahad asked, "Could you be attracted to Lancelot?"
Talwyn stared at Galahad. "Why would you ask me such a question? I never thought about it. He of course would never flirt with a student, and worships the queen, I believe."
"But could you be attracted to Lancelot, if Lancelot were free?" Could Talwyn want a woman?
Talwyn looked like a bristling cat. "Why would you want me to be attracted to Lancelot? I've never thought of wanting Lancelot. I think I might like someone who is more manly, jests more, and is perhaps a little wicked—rather like Gawaine, only younger."
"Like Gawaine!" Galahad groaned loudly. Must Talwyn choose the most manly warrior at court?
Talwyn frowned. "Don't upset yourself. I said younger. You are more like Gawaine than like Lancelot."
"I don't think so," said Galahad quietly, despairing of winning Talwyn's love. She could barely meet Talwyn's gaze.
"Don't be silly, you aren't at all like a saint, as the lord Lancelot is," Talwyn insisted.
Talwyn brought some linen and showed Galahad how to sew, which Galahad did as surreptitiously as possible, not wanting any of the young men to know.
"I'm so proud to have a gown made by a man," Talwyn said. "I don't even mind that your seams are just as crooked as my own."
"Come with me and let's learn what Camelot's brothels are like. I've heard there's a good one near the wine shop," Mordred said to several young warriors after jousting practice. It was well to win over as many men as possible, and what better way could there be? He was careful to make this suggestion when Gareth, Percy, and Galahad were absent, for those fools would have gasped.
But several young men grinned as they put away their practice swords.
"Grand idea," said Clegis, a handsome and strong young warrior.
Bleoberis wrinkled his plain face with a frown. "I would, but I have no money."
Mordred smiled. "Don't let that worry you. I'll pay for everyone. Why not help my friends?" He flourished his bulging purse.
"That's decent of you," Bleoberis replied, grinning.
"Generous, very generous." Colles chuckled with pleasure in anticipation of the night's revelry.
"Why shouldn't we young men have some fun? The older ones always boast about what they did in their day, fighting and whoring," said Camlach.
"It's our turn now," said his younger brother Cildydd.
"Our father pays little heed to us, but you'd think he'd at least have taken us to a brothel," Camlach complained.
Those two were reputed to be Gawaine's bastards, but looked nothing like him. Mordred thought Camlach resembled Bedwyr.
Mordred laughed inwardly. How easy it was to draw men to him! He could succeed without magic swords, round tables, or elderly sages.
"Would you rather ride into the fires of hell, or ascend to the clouds and join the heavenly host?" Gareth admonished Galahad, Percy, and few of the other young warriors who were known to pray. They had just left the chapel and were standing outside it, in the misty morning dew.
"I want to go to heaven, of course, but not just yet." Percy shifted his weight from one leg to the other. He was not fond of Gareth's admonishing tone.
"Those of us who are pure should pray in the chapel all night, as counter to the wickedness that others do in the dark," Gareth said.
"A good idea," Galahad replied. "Perhaps we might try it once a year. But my own body is more likely to resist temptation if I get a good night's sleep."
"I had hoped for better." Sighing, Gareth walked off. Some of the others followed him.
Percy and Galahad lagged behind.
Percy was greatly relieved by Galahad's words. "I am not quite in accord with Gareth," Percy said, "but it does seem that we might be able to be still nobler than many of the older warriors. I had thought that King Arthur's men might be like angels, yet they are not." Percy looked up at the clouds that soared above them. "Few of them speak of much but their fighting prowess and their horses. I had hoped for a more glorious life, in God's service and the king's."
"So had I." Galahad looked to the clouds, as if hoping that Percy had seen a vision there, one that might be shared. "We can try to be nobler, certainly."
11 THE HIGH QUEEN
Tewdar, Arthur's body servant, helped him on with his good leather boots. Arthur stretched, contented. It was a fine winter's day, with no snow on the ground. He and his men had hunted for deer the da
y before, and there had been venison on the table. Today he must attend to reports from the outposts, but he could do so at a leisurely pace. He strode over to his table and drank a little more of the ale that Tewdar had poured to break his fast.
Tewdar left the room, but immediately returned.
"Sire, the Lady Enid begs to have an audience with you."
A lady wanted to have an audience in his room? That was most unusual. Was she throwing herself at him? He thought Enid was too recently a widow for such wanton behavior. Her husband had died only a few months before. She had, however, been Arthur's mistress before she married—secretly his mistress, of course, or Gereint never would have wedded her—and the memory was pleasant, though vague. There had been so many women.
"Let her enter." And take yourself off, he might have said, but Tewdar would understand that without his speaking.
The lady entered. She was plumper than he remembered—plumper than Guinevere, who was not slim—and of course Enid wore black, which did not become her. She still was fair, nonetheless, with thick brown braids and a sensuous mouth that now trembled as if she would weep. He hoped that she would not.
"Lady Enid. I shall miss Gereint, as I have told you. He was a fine man, a fine warrior. Is there anything I can do for you and your children that I have not yet done?" Arthur did not remember whether she had three children or four. He made a gesture indicating that she should be seated, and sat down himself. Did she want him to find another husband for her? No doubt he could.
Enid did not sit. "Lord Arthur, you have been too kind, allowing me to keep Gereint's land." She sniffled. "I could ask for nothing more. Indeed, I deserve much less. I fear that Gereint's death is my fault." She looked at him piteously.
"What!" She could not mean that. "Gereint was killed by robbers, was he not? Surely that was not your fault."
The lady threw herself on her knees before him. "I fear that my sins killed him. I did not deserve to be so happy, and God has punished me. The priest told me that I should confess to you, and would not give me absolution unless I did."
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