I remembered their names now, each of them. Yes, I knew Broca, Lady of the Southern Falls immediately. And there was Dayna, the daughter of the Red Knight, the only girl in the kingdom who had hair redder than mine; and my other three companions, all sisters, Edgarda, Everleigh and Evelyn. These three were Sir Kay’s daughters, considered plain by some cruel gossips at court, but truer ladies a queen could never ask for. They led me to the adjoining chambers, and I said goodbye to my kitten and promised to come back for him soon. It was a simple room, really, with nothing much in the way of furniture except a massive bed, two chairs and a small table. In the corner stood a long, polished bronze mirror, which was quite a prize to own. I immediately shuffled to the table laden with fresh fruits and bread, poured myself a cup of wine and listened to my friends chatter away. The wine burned my tongue; I was not accustomed to drinking it in those days. At my father’s court, one drank honey mead or perhaps lemon water.
I had forgotten the taste of grapes, Merlin.
I drank the whole cup. Yes, I remembered this day, and here I was in it again. I could smell fresh herbs, which had been lovingly bundled and hung around my bed for luck. I took in the scent of lavender lotion, which Broca lavishly rubbed on my hands and arms. My ladies showered my cheeks with kisses and hung love amulets around my neck before they began braiding my hair, weaving small white flowers in some of the braids. The hair matters were interrupted only by the sounds of music coming up from the hall below. The men were celebrating with Arthur as he waited for his bride to ready herself. I swatted my ladies’ hands away.
“That is enough. Not too many braids.”
Evelyn whispered in my ear, “Now, remember what Broca’s mother told you. And you must promise to tell us everything, Guinevere. I mean, my queen. Tell us everything, remember?”
I laughingly pushed them out of the room without making such a promise. “Go now, silly ones. I will see you soon.” Their sweet presence distracted me and made me even more anxious. I would be married to the High King of Britain, a beautiful, brave young man whom I vowed to not only honor with my body but also protect at all times. And Excalibur. I would have to protect the sword! I was married to it too.
What were my ladies thinking? I would never share with them what passed between my husband and me during our time alone. Unlike my sillier friends, I knew how important it was to keep secrets in marriage, even at my young age. Yes, I had been young once. How long ago that was!
And I had no reason to suspect that Arthur would lack confidence in this arena. I strongly desired my husband, but that did not matter so much in our society. Who knew if you would marry an old man or a young man? Young women did as we were told, but it was not that way with Arthur and me. He always asked me what I thought; in fact, he asked me to marry him before he ever spoke to my father. Arthur said he knew Leodegrance would never refuse him, but he did not want to force me into marriage if I loved another. That day I told him the honest truth, that I loved no one except him.
I waited in my room for an hour or more. The wooden chair offered no comfort, as it had no padding at all, so I eventually moved to the bed and sat on the edge of it. I regretted not bringing the kitten with me and hoped that the curious animal did not manage to get lost in my absence. The sun was setting, and I could hear well-wishers singing beneath my tower; my own ladies had joined in the celebration with the gathering crowds. I could hear their voices in the songs, and I prayed they kept their wits about them during this time of frivolity. They were now ladies of the High Queen, and their lives were not merely their own but were in service to the Pendragon and all of Britain. And then the heavy door opened.
Oh yes, I remember this moment. I had expected Arthur, but Morgan had come instead.
“Guinevere, we are to be sisters. True sisters now! Let me serve you, sister. Arthur will come to you soon.” She turned back the thick covers of our marriage bed and then stoked the fire. “It will be cold this evening. You will need a warm fire. Or maybe you won’t.” Morgan’s mischievous smile made me blush. “What are all these?” She put the poker aside and stalked toward me. “Love charms? I do not think you need them.” Before I knew it, she had removed my gifts, and I allowed her to do so. I would reclaim them later, I promised myself. Morgan insisted that I change into an elegant nightgown that she presented to me; the garment was much finer than the one I now wore. Impressed, I allowed her to help me change and took a minute to admire the fit in the mirror. It was as if the thing had been made for me.
“A picture of beauty, my queen and sister.” She kissed my cheek and smiled back at me in the mirror. “I hope that I am as lucky one day. I have found the one I want to marry. He is in the court now.”
“Tell me, Morgan, who is he? King Lot is too old for you, I think.”
“No, not Lot.” With a dreamy expression she confessed that her own suitor, or so she hoped, had arrived at Camelot just this hour, a man named Lancelot. He had greatly impressed the young king and even Igraine, which was not an easy thing to achieve. Morgan rambled on about Lancelot’s strength in battle, his handsome face, the beautiful Lake Lands and his elusive mother, Vivian, the Lady of the Lake, from whose hands Excalibur had been given to the Pendragons. It seemed an odd thing that she would share such personal information with me, as she had never been one to do so before, but I was happy for her despite my surprise at her openness. Nervously, I chewed on my fingernails. She playfully swatted my hands as the door opened again.
Igraine called to Morgan, “Daughter, come. It is time to leave. The king approaches.” Igraine, tall and lovely, smiled briefly at me before the two of them disappeared. I had hoped she would speak to me and wish me well, but she did not. Instead of joy, her lovely face was the picture of sadness.
And then in came another, but not the one I expected. It should have been Arthur who stepped into the room. Yes, I remembered this. It should be Arthur!
Merlin…
“Why are you here?” I asked him, not really wanting to know the answer. This wasn’t just a memory, this was my memory—a sweet memory that I did not want to end. I peeked around him, hoping that Arthur would emerge from behind Merlin’s broad shoulders, that I would see his handsome face again, see his cheerful smile and hear him speak my name. But he did not emerge from the gray hallway.
Only Merlin remained, and even the sounds of rejoicing dimmed and the edges of the room blurred. “Let me stay here,” I pleaded with Merlin, whose expression I could not read. My pulse raced, my skin warmed. I could hear footsteps and laughter in the hallway as the bridegroom’s party escorted Arthur to our chambers. My senses were alive, infused with excitement and gladness, and I knew that this one moment, this one day had been the pinnacle of my long life. My happiest moment. The one I dreamed of the most, longed for the most.
I now lay again in darkness. The keep of Camelot had vanished, and Merlin was my only companion. He sat beside me on the floor, not touching me but too near for my liking.
“No,” I screamed, my voice rising with grief. “No!” I did not care who heard me. I did not care about anything except returning to that sweet moment. And for the first time in nearly seven hundred years, I cried. How is this possible? As I wept, my skin warmed slightly and I felt something I had not felt in a long time. Something beyond sadness and the dreariness of a life of endless darkness. “You are cruel, Merlin,” I whispered as I lay with my face hidden from him.
“Many say that I am. I am sorry to hear that you are one of them.”
I sat up and pushed the hair back from my face. I wiped away the dampness and heaved another sob. Strangely relieved, I said, “I have become what you said, Merlin. I am the White Death.”
“You are, Guinevere. But you need not remain so.”
His words shook me to the core. Rising from the ground, I probed his mind again, but it remained impenetrable. Too bad he could so easily plunder mine. I had underestimated him.
“How can that be?”
“Because you are m
arried to a Greater Power.”
“I do not understand.”
“You kissed the sword—and it kissed you back. Arthur inherited Excalibur, but you…it chose you, Guinevere.” I gasped to hear him say such a thing. “Why do you think you were able to hide Excalibur away from Morgan all these years? It trusts you. It sleeps, waiting for you to return and claim it.”
“But Excalibur belongs to Arthur!”
“Yes, it does, and you must return it to the king’s hands. As Morgan’s curse weakens, she becomes more desperate. She hopes to claim Excalibur because possessing it will renew her strength.”
“Why has she become so weak, Merlin? She says we will die. Is that true?”
His dark eyes shone with purpose, and his skin nearly glowed in the moonlight. “If we can keep Excalibur out of her hands, the curse will thin enough to be pierced. This will happen soon, Guinevere. However, if we fail, if she possesses Excalibur, she will be unstoppable; she will come at Arthur—and you—with new strength.”
I was on my feet now. “As I told Morgan, the days of swords and kings and queens are over!”
“You think so? Why then have you searched for Arthur all these years?”
I had no answer except one. “Because I love him. I never stopped loving him.”
“Then let that be enough. This man, this Arthur, is the true Arthur, Guinevere! Whether he wears a crown again or not, whether he wields Excalibur again or not, he needs you. He needs us both. And there are other forces, powers I do not yet understand, that will soon come against us. The time of kings and queens may be over, but the lust for power and the absolute corruption of it never ends. This realm, this time must be protected.”
“Morgan says…”
“Do not say her name again,” he warned me as he turned his head toward the doorway.
“She says Arthur will die, that this is his last life. Is this true?”
“I do not know, and I doubt that she does either. But your curse, the shee-blood curse,” he said as he smiled at me now, “oh, that is on death’s door. It is thin now. Hold on just a little longer, my queen. Together we will break it.”
I traveled to the door and peeked out. I heard nothing and no one nearby. This would be the time to leave. “Follow me. It is not far from here.”
Perhaps it was the loneliness that propelled me to take him to the sword. Did I trust the Merlin of Britain? No, never. But despite my wariness, I felt something I had not felt in a long time.
A very long time.
Hope. It came in on invisible wings and lifted my empty soul into places where I had dared not journey in many lifetimes.
Yes, I thought as I flew around a corner with Merlin’s hand in mine, I felt hope.
Chapter Fourteen—Guinevere
Mossy ruins were all that remained of Saint Albans. The building’s arched stone doorways had collapsed and the heavy oak doors had rotted away centuries ago. No walls stood; it was as if Saint Albans had never been, as if no songs had ever echoed through its sanctuary. Even the elegant stained-glass windows had vanished. If I did not know what it had been, I would not believe the ruin to be anything much. Most of the stones had been hauled away or were buried under the weight of the encroaching forest. A few corners of the walls remained, sprayed with vulgar graffiti. What an ill end for such a holy place.
Yet for all this decay and destruction, the sword remained unmolested, untouched. I could feel it humming beneath my feet, as if it summoned me, whispered to me, called my name. Guinevere! Release me!
Merlin’s words returned unbidden to my ears: “Excalibur chose you.”
“No, you belong to Arthur!” I murmured in the darkness, forgetting for a moment that there was another beside me. I instantly regretted speaking, and I felt Merlin watching me. Ready to retrieve Excalibur, I stepped out from behind the massive tree and then his hand was on mine. It was strange to feel the touch of another, enough of a surprise to make me pause at the edge of the tree line.
“Look, there.”
We were not the first to arrive. How had I missed these mortals? A trio of young people walked the grounds cussing and chatting with one another. Were they searching for something? The tallest, the one called Billy, took a deep drag from a fat cigarette and let out a whoop. He passed the cigarette to his shorter friend, Rat, who wasted no time inhaling the intoxicating smoke. Of the three, his heart beat the strongest. If I had to choose one for my own needs, he would be the one. I could not say why. Something about the scent of him appealed to me. The third member of this ridiculous trio would be of no use to me, for I had no stomach for taking another child’s life. The girl, Marley, was pregnant and had no idea which of these two prizes was the father.
“I can get rid of them,” I said impatiently.
“No,” Merlin cautioned as he peered at them from behind the tree. “We wait.”
The three chattered back and forth for another few minutes as they stomped around the property; I grew tired of watching them. Everything about them bored me. I said as much to my companion, who replied, “If we chase them away, we will not know why they are here. Their presence here tonight cannot be a coincidence.” I thought he must be wrong. The graffiti and litter attested to the fact that this once-holy place had become nothing more than a gathering place for the dregs of society. This group did not have the brain power to mastermind stealing Britain’s most revered and desired artifact. I had all but written them off until the one called Rat said the word that grabbed my attention.
…sword…
Merlin leaned closer, and we scrutinized their every move. Despite my excellent sight and hearing, the surrounding forest dulled my senses. Without waiting for Merlin’s approval, I bolted to the first pile of rubble. Hunching down, I peered over the stones and waited. My heart raced, and the blood hunger rose within me. Predatory behavior always excited me. Could I deny my nature?
“Where is it, Billy? You said you knew how to get in. I’m freezing my cods off out here.”
“Girls don’t have cods, idiot, and it’s not going to be any warmer underground.”
“Call me that again and I’ll make you eat your teeth.” Marley shoved Billy, and he drunkenly mocked her for her efforts. Once he stopped laughing, he tried to kiss her, but the girl wasn’t having any of it. “I’m here for the money—nothing else. Now let’s get this over with or I’m going home.”
“Go home then, crybaby. We don’t need your help. Nobody here believes you’re psychic anyway, Mar.”
“I am too! You know I am, Billy—you bastard! Even she says I am! She says I have the gift!”
In the chaos of the two squabbling and the third obviously searching for the entrance of the catacombs below the ancient church, Merlin scrambled up beside me unnoticed by the mortals. The two lovers continued their intense debate until Rat called them.
“Hey! Will you two shut it? I think I found it! This way! I knew it was here but just couldn’t remember which corner. It’s this one.” Using the heel of his boot, Rat kicked at the grass and uncovered the hidden iron ring. Billy joined him, and Marley raced after him awkwardly in her high-heeled ankle boots. The three of them worked furiously to uncover the opening, but I could not let that happen.
Excalibur knew they were there. It knew and was resisting them, whether they knew it or not. I knew it because I heard the sword. I could hear it speak; it did not speak with words, but it spoke to my soul.
I am here…I am close…I watch… I closed my eyes and thought these things. Merlin looked at me strangely; had he heard me speaking to Excalibur?
“Watch this,” I said with a grin on my face. “I will soon get rid of them.”
“Guinevere, wait. It is better to hide and wait.” He touched my hand again, but I pulled away this time.
“That is not my way. Besides, the sword is calling me. I am a vampire now, Merlin. I am the Undead Queen; I do not need your help for this.” I showed him my fangs and closed my eyes to focus on my transformation. I would s
how myself to these humans, in all my glory. That should send them fleeing in another direction. I was frightening to mortals—I was the Bringer of Death. My fanged teeth, bloodless skin and unholy dark eyes would frighten them to their souls. I would make sure of that. I had no intention of killing any of them, unless they refused to leave. And then all bets were off.
I stood, and an unearthly wind began to blow my hair around my face. This was part of my vampire working; I could appear as an ordinary human. I could show myself to be a picture of absolute terror if I so desired, or I could look irresistibly beautiful. Tonight, Billy, Rat and Marley would see no beauty in me, only horror.
As I walked toward them, they did not yet notice me, but they soon would. I let out a scream that would curdle the blood of the bravest of knights. That got their attention. Levitating off the ground a few feet, I hovered and stared at them. I willed my skin to appear even paler, and so it did. I reached for them with outstretched hands, and the three of them simultaneously screamed. My hair, nearly black now, flew around me like snakes and I screamed again.
“It’s a damn ghost! Get out of the way!”
“That’s not a ghost,” Marley corrected Billy. “That’s something else!”
I bared my teeth at her and licked my lips with my overly long tongue. She screamed at the sight, abandoning her amateur attempts at guessing who or what I was. All she wanted to do was get away; her hand protectively clutched her stomach. I looked over at Rat and could see the kid had pulled open the hatchway that would lead down into the catacombs. He watched me with fearful eyes but did not stop. Billy was long gone; he called back at Rat, who ignored him.
Yes, this was a brave one—or a foolish one.
Suddenly, without even thinking, the sound of the sword humming beneath me, I charged at Rat and took him to the ground. My teeth were at his throat before I knew what happened.
But then I stopped drinking his blood. Something was wrong.
The young man was screaming, out of his mind with fear and feeling pain like he’d never felt before. I wanted to drink him, all of him, but something was amiss. As his blood dripped down my chin, I stared into his frightened eyes. The dark pupils were dilated with fear, and he was begging me for his life. Then the strangest thing happened to me. I lost my appetite. I stood up and stepped back from his writhing body on wobbly legs. In just a few seconds, I had taken quite a bit of his blood, and I wondered whether he would live or die. And then Merlin was there. He squatted down beside Rat and hushed him gently. And then he snapped his neck as if he were killing a chicken and not a full-grown man.
Guinevere Forever Page 8
