Guinevere

by Sharan Newman

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Guinevere,” Rhianna pushed her away. “A unicorn can only be tamed by a virgin. Everyone knows that. Now go away and leave me alone.”

  She tried to rise to her feet and stumble away, but went only a few steps before she reeled dizzily, and grasped at a tree to support herself.

  Guinevere ran after her and held her up.

  “Rhianna, what’s the matter with you?” she cried. “Why are you out here? I’ve never seen you this way. You must be ill. Here, let me help you.”

  “No, don’t bother,” Rhianna said fiercely. “I’m not ill; I’m wicked. I’m going to have a baby and soon everyone will know. My family will disown me and yours will throw me out and I’ll probably die and go to hell.”

  She sat down again and cried and coughed some more. The running had worn her out completely and she looked terrible. Guinevere sat beside her, wanting to help but not having any idea of where to begin.

  “But I don’t understand, Rhianna. How could this happen?”

  “Guinevere, don’t you know anything?”

  “Not about babies. No one ever told me and I never thought to ask.”

  Even in her misery Rhianna smiled. “No, I suppose no one would.” The thought of someone sitting down with Guinevere and explaining sex to her was ludicrous. Still, she would very likely be married someday. “Well, it’s no matter. I have no husband and there is but one road open to me.” Her voice shook. “But I am weak and afraid. Oh, I wish I had a unicorn!”

  “Babies must have fathers, I know that much. Isn’t that so? Where is this person, Rhianna? If he became your husband, then everything would be all right. He isn’t . . . uh . . . unsuited to us, is he?”

  Rhianna flushed. “Where would I meet anyone ‘unsuited’? Guinevere, you are amazing. Your brother Matthew is the father and, in case you have forgotten, he is dead. He can’t marry me now. At first, I was so glad we had had those few times together. He came back in the spring just to see me. But now I only feel sick and ashamed, and wish we had waited until he asked my parents so we could be properly married.”

  Her voice drifted off. It didn’t matter if Guinevere listened or not.

  “I had such dreams. Our beautiful villa high in the mountains. I knew just where it would be. Away from Saxons, Irish, and Piets and away from all those noisy drunken soldiers. Just the two of us. I told him all about it and he laughed and said it would be a fine place to come back to. We could raise horses and when he was old they could be the dowries for our daughters. And now there is nothing left of him. Nothing but this,” she felt her stomach, “and this.” She held out her hand. On the middle finger was a signet ring.

  Guinevere smiled. “I know that. Grandmother gave it to Matthew because he was the oldest and he would wear it even though it was a woman’s ring because he loved her so. He gave it to you? How he must have loved you then! Rhianna, you should go to Mother and explain it to her.”

  Rhianna stiffened at once. “No, how could I do that? She would only think me wicked. She would say I was trying to please her for mercy, to push myself into your family and cover my shame!”

  “Rhianna!” Guinevere was angry. “You know my mother. How can you say such things of her. She raised you, loved you. She will know what to do. What do you want instead, to kill yourself?”

  She started. “No, or I would have already. But I think it’s the only honorable thing for me to do.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about. It is true that nobody ever explains these things to me; perhaps I should ask. But I do know that my brother is no longer alive except for that part of him living inside of you; yet you want to destroy that too. I can see no honor in that and I don’t think Mother would either.”

  She added, more humbly. “I don’t know or understand how you feel. I don’t know much about people at all, but Mother does and I think we should go to her. Now. Please?”

  Rhianna’s face lit like a sunrise. It was what she had wanted all along, but had been too timid to do.

  “Will you come with me?”

  “Yes, but you must explain to her. I don’t know how. And, Rhianna, promise me that you won’t tell anyone about . . . about my friend?”

  The wistful look returned to Rhianna’s eyes. “No. It belongs to you. I know what they would do with it. You are right. Even to have seen such a thing is more than I ever dreamed of. I’m really a very ordinary person. When I found that Matthew loved me, I felt there was really nothing more that life could give me.”

  “It is not the same, I know, but you may say you have another family now, too.”

  Guinevere held out her arms to embrace her sister. In that silent moment, perhaps all things mythical and true would have welcomed them.

  The golden feeling lasted for Rhianna until they came to Guenlian’s door.

  “Go in first, Guinevere, I can’t. My feet won’t move.”

  “No, we’ll go in together. Here, take my arm.”

  It was late afternoon and Guenlian had, for once, run out of things to do. She slumped in her chair, staring out of the window at the patterns the morning glory vines made across the glass. She resolved to think of Nothing, rather than of the darkness that pursued her. But thinking of Nothing only let in the darkness, and she was beginning to slip into despair. Seeing her like this frightened Guinevere, as it had so often in the past weeks. But Rhianna only felt pity and understanding. Didn’t she, herself, feel the same sorrow? She went to Guenlian and knelt at her feet, resting her head on the older woman’s knee.

  Guinevere came with her, feeling out of place. She sat on a stool nearby. Absently, Guenlian patted Rhianna’s face.

  “Mother.” Guenlian focused her eyes. “Rhianna wants to speak with you. She has something to tell you. I think . . . something . . . from Matthew . . . a gift.”

  She could not find the words. Guenlian had roused herself and was looking at Rhianna intently. Guinevere knew she would not be missed, so she slipped away, glad to be apart from such confusing and deep emotions.

  Rhianna lifted her face. It was streaked with tears. “My lady, please forgive me. I truly loved him and we thought it would not anger you when you learned we wanted to wed.”

  Guenlian regarded her with a practiced eye: her pallor contrasting with her full breasts and slightly rounded stomach. She couldn’t believe it. Leodegrance had made some comment that Matthew seemed much taken with the child but . . . then she noticed the ring. Her whole manner changed as she swept Rhianna up into her arms, laughing and crying at once.

  “Oh my daughter, my dear! I cannot thank you enough! You poor lamb, don’t you see? He is not dead at all. You have brought him back to life. My husband will be so relieved!”

  Rhianna wasn’t prepared for hysteria from the dignified Lady Guenlian, but being always close to tears herself these days, she clasped Guenlian’s hand and sobbed too. With all the weeping, there had rarely been two happier women.

  Guenlian quickly composed herself, slightly ashamed of such a wild outburst. She had had enough of those. But she continued to rejoice, not only for this promise of a continuation of Matthew’s life, and therefore her own, but also because she now had something concrete to plan for and worry about. It would keep her busy and looking forward. It would keep her living. Grasping the problem at once, she immediately gave all her attention to it. First she had to calm Rhianna’s fear.

  “You should have come to me at once, my dear. I know what you thought. But you needn’t believe that parents are so blind. We saw the way you and my son looked at each other and I know Matthew never raced from one end of the island to the other just to spend a week with me. We had already given thought to suggesting a marriage between you two. I even mentioned it to your mother in my last letter to her. So, you see, no one will be very surprised to hear that you were married when he left last spring. Of course we didn’t say anything then because we planned a formal wedding and a settlement of dowry when he . . . returned.”

  She swallow
ed quickly and went on.

  “As he didn’t, we are of course overjoyed that we ignored tradition and allowed you a few days together first. Poor dear, you didn’t have much more than that, did you?”

  Rhianna was still trembling and crying. Why couldn’t she stop crying lately? “I thought, I was afraid you would think I was lying, that I wanted a place that wasn’t mine.”

  “How could you? Another girl, perhaps. No, I always hoped to have another daughter someday, and you are just such a one as I would have picked. Leodegrance will be pleased too. He and your father have always been good friends. Now we must think only of you and caring for you. My grandchild must be strong and healthy and you have obviously not been eating properly, if at all. I will send word to your mother at once. But Rhianna, she has three other children, and I have only Guinevere and you. Will you stay with us, at least for a time?”

  For answer, Rhianna only nestled into Guenlian’s arms with a sigh of relief. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Guenlian wondered how long it had been since Guinevere had caressed her so.

  The truth was that Guinevere had never completely belonged to her family. There was something so fragile and ethereal about her that while they all had loved her passionately, they had never felt completely relaxed with her. Even as they teased her and laughed with her and punished her, they all felt there was a part in her they could not touch that had nothing to do with this world. This constraint was growing stronger as tragedy divided some and brought others closer together. Guenlian, Leodegrance, and now Rhianna had sought each other for courage and strength to bear their grief. Guinevere instead fled to the forest and the comfort that awaited her there. If she had known what would come of it, at the end, Guinevere might have run screaming into their arms. If she had not been only human, she might have had some warning, some protection. But the absurd thing about human life is that one must fling oneself blindly into the future with no idea of what one will find.

  • • •

  The whole household grew more cheerful when Rhianna was introduced as the wife of Matthew. Even though all of them knew there had been no wedding, no one broke faith. Rhianna’s parents were written to, and they sent word they would visit at once. So all the servants rehearsed gleefully complete details of the bridal feast: how hard it was to make a good meal on such short notice, what everyone had worn and what they had said. It didn’t matter that no one was likely to ask them about it. All summer they had eaten their bread with sorrow and it was more than time to smile again. As far as they were concerned, Rhianna was “a lady born” and if the gentry chose to be a bit lax in the matter of weddings, that was their right. So they pampered Rhianna and showed her marked respect. Slowly she was losing her frightened rabbit look and her posture of hunched misery. It seemed to her that she finally belonged in the world, and since she was naturally too self-effacing to take advantage of the concern of others, she wasn’t spoiled by all the attention, only strengthened. The joy of a new life growing before them made everyone look forward to the long months ahead. Even though autumn was approaching, the whole household had a feeling of spring.

  Guinevere stayed away even more now. She was less likely to be missed. She didn’t resent Rhianna’s place of honor and was secretly curious about the baby, but she didn’t feel at home around women who could talk of nothing else. Even housework was a more pleasant subject to her. A lot of what they said sounded very disagreeable, and she couldn’t understand why they seemed to have relished the suffering so. Guenlian had never mentioned days of pain with her children; had she gone through this too? Guinevere wondered why anyone would want children at such a price. It didn’t please her to think of it; she preferred to retire more and more into her own world.

  One dreary, foggy day in November she slipped out, wrapping a thick wool cloak about her. She was sick of hearing about labor pains and wanted the restoring companionship of her unicorn. She found him, but for the first time his thoughts were distant in her mind. She caressed his shimmering mane and drew her arms about his neck, but he didn’t radiate the warmth she had expected. She was afraid to speak to him aloud but willed him to return to her with all her energy. At last, she felt his thoughts return in her direction.

  “I am sorry I worried you. I have been thinking a great deal lately when you are not with me. I am the only unicorn, you know. I have never seen my own image, save in the minds of others, and it is never the same. I have often wondered about the unicorn who came before me. The day I awoke in the forest, he met his death. He gave me all of his knowledge, but none of his memory. Was he ever lonely? Did he ever ask himself why he was on earth? Was his life so short that he had no time to think? I don’t believe that in all our history, any unicorn has spent so long a time with one human being. Perhaps it is unsettling me. Perhaps unicorns were not made for introspection. I cannot be sure.”

  “What is it? What is wrong with you?”

  He went on. “I have heard, though I can’t remember where, that we have cousins living in the sea. I would like to converse with them. When the rains end this year, I will go to the shore to seek them.”

  “No!” Guinevere clung to him in panic. “You mustn’t leave me! Everything is so strange now; the whole world is changing. It keeps running from me. I won’t let you go, too.”

  He looked at her in surprise. “Of course I won’t leave you. I can’t. We are one soul, for now. I will go when you do.”

  “What?”

  “When you go to live in the castle by the ocean in the spring, I will go too. I thought you would be pleased.”

  “I am going nowhere. I am staying here, at my home, forever.”

  His thoughts were puzzled. “I know I felt it. In the spring. I saw the rocks and could even smell the salt.”

  “You must be mistaken. No one has said anything about my leaving.”

  “Perhaps not. But remember, when you go, I will be with you.”

  Guinevere pulled her cloak more tightly about her. “I am going home. I must think. Anyway, it’s too cold for me to be out today.”

  She slipped in the mud as she hurried home. It wasn’t fair! They couldn’t send her away again. Her only refuge! Why was everything so inside out lately? “No one has time for me anymore! No one cares what I do, even if I stay out in the rain all day and catch the ague and die! No one would care. Even he would only hunt for another maiden to pet him.”

  The thick fog clung to her cloak and dripped from the hood pulled far over her face. The mud was so thick on the path that it muffled the sound of the horse coming up behind her. It was some time before she noticed that she was walking in the midst of a crowd. No one else was wearing a wrap or even seemed to be getting wet. They were all completely silent but moved their lips as though singing. Even then she was so concerned with herself that it took a moment to realize who they were. Then she spun around and saw him.

  “Geraldus!” she cried, and threw herself at him as he slid from Plotinus’ back. “Oh, Geraldus! Why did you wait so long to come back? We have watched for you every day since the spring. I thought you would never come!”

  He swung her around, mud and all, smiling with relief at his welcome. Then his face sobered.

  “I didn’t know if you would want to see me . . . now. I thought I might be in the way.”

  “Oh no, if you only knew the people who have come by to comfort us and how little comfort they have been. I have been so lonely for you. Everyone else is so different now. Hurry. Let’s go tell father you are here.”

  Geraldus may have doubted his welcome, but the joy with which they greeted him was sincere enough to convince anyone. Mark had been his special friend, the only one he had of his own age, and he had felt Mark’s death as much as if his own brother had died. All summer now, he had known that he should visit them again, but he had been afraid. How could he walk in, alive, when all the others were gone? It would almost be an insult. Finally he had worked up his courage, packed his mended robes in a bag, and started out. He
was rewarded by the look on Leodegrance’s face when they met and the choked answer to his mumbled words of consolation:

  “We are glad to see you, lad. You can help us learn to live with this. We will bear it together.”

  Guinevere refused to let go of his hand as she led him through the house. She babbled on and on of how glad she was to see him.

  “Now we can have music and stories again. No one but you can recite so clearly the story of Aeneas. I’m so happy to see you. Will you teach me to dance? Will you stay the whole winter?”

  Geraldus was more than willing to remain, if they wanted him. There was no better or warmer place to spend a winter. The lure of hot baths was easy to give into on icy cold days. Guinevere was still dragging him on to her mother’s work room. From within he could hear the voices of several women.

  “Certainly, it will be a boy. I carried all my boys just that way and even I can see how he beats on you. He’s a fighter already.”

  “No, Guenlian, a boy I have no doubt. But she has had a craving for grapes and lamb’s meat. That certainly implies that he will be a holy man.”

  “I think you are both wrong, my lady. The child is sure to be a girl. If you had consulted the stars, as I have, you would know that.”

  Guinevere whispered, “I’ll wait for you in the dining hall. A little of that talk is enough for me.”

  Geraldus entered shyly, nervous at invading such a decidedly female gathering. He saw the three speakers and the object of their speculations sitting mute among them. But Guenlian dropped her sewing at once and rushed to him as impetuously as Guinevere had, giving him a joyous welcome.

  “My dear boy! How glad I am that you have come at last. You know everyone here, don’t you? Winawe, Rhianna’s mother, and her maid Enid? Of course you remember Rhianna, but she has changed somewhat since your last visit. You have heard that she and Matthew were married last March?”

  Rhianna stood unsteadily. She was still having trouble adjusting to her ever changing center of gravity. She smiled hopefully at Geraldus. With moist eyes, he bent and softly kissed her.