Guinevere's Tale

by Nicole Evelina

  As the sun set on the sixth day, our morale was flagging. There simply were not enough soldiers left. We had already recalled the second unit into battle. Tonight we would have to break camp and press into service anyone who could hold a weapon, whether they were trained or not. The following day would be our last push, an offensive that would determine whether we went down in history as heroes who’d saved our tribe or were eulogized as brave warriors who’d perished in defeat.

  I called all of our remaining troops together just after Accolon sounded the retreat for the night. Looking over the tired faces and broken bodies, I summoned all the courage I had left. “I was not going to tell you this, but given that tomorrow we will make our last stand, you deserve to know.” I made sure all eyes and ears were on me. “There is no home for any of us to return to, should the battle consume us. Before we left Din Eidyn, our Votadess made it clear that should we fail, we were no longer welcome there or anywhere else within Votadini lands.”

  Grumbling rose and fell like an ocean wave as the troops took in this news.

  “I tell you this not to upset you but to light a fire within you. We may be outnumbered, but we are not without hope. We can take the anger and betrayal we feel toward our leaders and use it to propel our javelins and sharpen our swords. We can show the Saxons what offended Britons look like, especially when their homes are threatened.”

  Before me, heads nodded.

  “And once the Saxons are dead, we will overthrow the Votad and Votadess and install you in their place,” someone shouted.

  “Aye!” The word rang through the crowd like a tolling funeral bell.

  Inwardly, I cringed. I would never accept that title, but they didn’t need to know that. Let them believe it if the idea of making me Votadess would give them extra courage to fight. “One step at a time. Now, say your prayers and make your peace with whatever gods you believe in. Tomorrow, we fight!”

  The next morning, a deep, pervasive calm filled my body and mind as I took a final walk through what was left of our camp, checking for deserters or anyone left behind and making sure cook fires were properly doused. The last thing we needed was a fire at our backs preventing retreat, should the day come to that. If we had learned nothing else from Boudicca’s disastrous final battle, it was make sure our troops always had a way out.

  Near the rear of the troops, I found Morgan with a group of women armored in the discards of the dead, reluctance writ large on their faces.

  “You can run, you know,” I said to them gently. “You do not have to fight.”

  “Yes, we do,” said a stately dark-skinned woman who towered above me. “The cravens among us ran already under cover of darkness. The rest of us are here to do our part. We’re just scared.”

  I gently pushed my way into their circle and took her hand. “I understand. I was only fifteen the first time I faced down an army in battle, only nine the first time I defended myself against attack. Nothing I can say will make it easier. Please know you are doing the right thing.”

  “My husband died in this battle three days ago,” a young woman clutching a spear told me. “I want to see his soul avenged, even if it means meeting him soon after.”

  “I promised my little sister I would protect her, and I cannot do that by running,” said Ailith, who had come up behind me. “It would be my honor to lead you into battle. Will you follow me?”

  The women nodded. Ailith led them to Accolon, who directed them with hand gestures and words I could not hear.

  Once they had all moved off, I was left alone with Morgan. She turned her sword over and over as though she had never seen one before, though I knew full well she had had lessons from both Arthur and Accolon on how to use it.

  “I never thought my life would come to this,” she said, not taking her eyes from the blade in her hands. “I am a priestess vowed to peace, not a soldier. What do I know of war?”

  “You have been married to three kings,” I reminded her. “You know more than most of the men here.”

  She snickered and tossed the sword at my feet. “I don’t need one of these to be dangerous. If these bastards want to see what happens when they cross a child of Avalon, they better be prepared.” She raised her arms, and a brisk southwest wind stirred our hair. “I will fight in my own manner.”

  I handed her back the sword. “Please take this. Your powers are no good if you get pinned between two Saxon blades. Even the Lady of the Lake carried a dagger for that very reason, and the Grail Maidens are armed as well.”

  She sheathed the sword with sarcastic smile. “You still always have to be right, don’t you?”

  Her words took me back to a day on Avalon when we were but children and were both assigned to clean the sanctuary stairs as punishment for our roles in two mishaps the day before. Then, she had been lording her place as favorite acolyte over me. Now, she may have used the same taunting tone, but all the venom was gone from it.

  “Only where you are concerned,” I shot back with smile.

  “May the God and Goddess of Avalon watch over and protect you,” she called over her shoulder as she melted into the waiting troops.

  “May your god bless you as well,” I shouted after her.

  On the front lines, Kay and Bedivere were forming a schiltron, or pike block, to try to take out the heart of the defending mass. I slipped underneath the shoulders of some of the taller men to take my place in the second rank of spearmen. We would throw our weapons while those in front of us, armed with swords and shields, would defend us from the volley of javelins likely to be launched in return. Flanking us on all sides was a mass of cavalry ready to charge through the enemy and do their own damage.

  At a signal from Kay, each spearman raised his or her shield, forming an overhead and side armor for our crew. A steady beat of sword on shield was taken up by one of the cavalrymen. Its sole purpose was to help us keep in time as we progressed, so that no one fell and was trampled, which would make the whole unit dissolve into chaos. On Kay’s command, we surged forward, keeping our steps in time with the reverberation echoing in our ribcages. It was hot beneath the veil of shields and my hand grew slick around the shaft of the spear, but when a volley of projectiles thudded into our shields a few moments later, I was grateful for the protection. A few breeched our defenses, and we parted momentarily to avoid stepping on our fallen comrades, but then it was our turn to attack. On the command, we lowered our shields in unison, standing long enough to throw our weapons before ducking behind our shields once again.

  The cavalry surged forward, breaking any formation the defenders hoped to keep. The swordsmen plunged into their depths while another volley of spears came from behind. I unleashed my own sword, hacking down as many Picts, Saxons, and attacking Britons as I could.

  “Guinevere!” Kiara screamed above the tumult.

  I turned, searching for her. In my quest to locate Elga, I had completely forgotten I was supposed to stay by her side. Now she needed me.

  I spotted her a good distance away, near the wall. As I ran toward her, I sized up the situation. She was defending against an oddly matched pair of Saxons wearing full-face masks that made them look like creatures out of a nightmare. One, who was about the size of an ancient yew, wielded a large battle axe, while his much smaller and more spindly companion jabbed at her with a dagger or short sword. The strategy, if there was one, seemed to be keeping her attention divided between the constant small threat of the dagger and the looming slice of the axe.

  Kiara was doing a fine job keeping them at bay, only once being stabbed by the gnat with the dagger. But there was no way she could keep up her position for long and they knew it. I launched myself at the little one, colliding with him from the side and knocking us both painfully into the ox with the axe. As we struggled to right ourselves, he stumbled sideways, giving Kiara an opening in which to attack.

  By the time I had
the smaller one pinioned to the ground, my sword through his chest, she was advancing on her opponent, finally able to get under his guard. He hadn’t yet noticed I was free of his friend, so I greeted him with a sharp slice to his weapon arm. As he howled in pain and dropped his axe, Kiara sank her blade into the tender flesh of his belly, giving him a swift kick so that he landed on his back with a thud.

  When we were sure he was dead, she took his weapon, sheathed her sword, and clasped my arm. “Thank you, sister.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, let’s get inside.” I started back toward the remnants of the schiltron, but Kiara grabbed my arm.

  “I think I know a quicker way we can get in, but we’ll have to be fast.” She pointed at a portion of the wooden wall where the majority of our schiltron’s spears had stuck in the timbers. “We climb. It’s the only way in until they breech the gates.”

  I looked at her, slack jawed. “Are you mad? We will be completely exposed.”

  “That is why I said we will have to be fast.” She looked at the battle around us while securing the axe to a strap running across her back. “I hate to say it, but I think the war is turning against us.”

  I followed her gaze to where more and more of our men were falling, their bodies piling up several deep where the fighting was the strongest. She was right. It was now or never. “Will they not attack us from the walls?”

  She grinned. “Not if we distract them. I forged a plan with Cinon in case anyone needed a bit of cover.” She whistled sharply three times.

  A dozen heads whipped around on the battlefield, and several men emerged from the trees with ladders, which they raced to prop against the walls. Cinon handed us each a length of rope with a grappling hook attached.

  As soon as we had the ropes secured at our waists, he yelled, “Now!”

  We sprinted toward the wall, relatively unnoticed once we had dispatched the few warriors in our way.

  “Couldn’t we have used one of those?” I asked, pining for the surety of a ladder as I tossed the hook to the top of the wall, where it bit into the stone.

  Kiara was already part way up the wall and using the shaft of a spear to help her stretch down to pull me up. “Only if you want to remain on this side. They will never succeed.” Kiara contemplated her next handhold. “They are only meant to draw attention away from us.”

  A spear whizzed by my head, jamming itself with an audible thwack into the wall above me. I tightened my grip on the rope and redoubled my efforts to climb.

  Kiara cursed as an arrow narrowly missed her leg and wood exploded into splinters above her head. Startled by the noise, she looked up just in time to get a face full of sawdust. Coughing and half blinded, she groped hand over hand, pulling herself up.

  By the grace of the gods, somehow we made it to the top and over the other side of the wall, near an abandoned tower that led down into the courtyard.

  In the streets below, nothing moved—no smoke spiraled from the chimneys, no animals snuffed or clucked, not even a rat slunk along the alleyways. The barracks stood empty, doors shut tight, the stables seemingly abandoned. Even the smith was silent. There had to be reserves waiting for the command to bombard our men, but none were visible.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I scanned the outbuildings for any signs of life. “Why do I feel like we’ve walked into their trap?”

  “Because we have.”

  We were headed toward the main keep when the scrabbling of feet on stone reached us. The sound was too deep, too heavy to belong to animals. It had to be people. I signaled to Kiara to follow me, and we headed deeper into the fort. It was darker on this side, the sun not having risen high enough yet to penetrate the shadows cast by the keep. Kiara touched my shoulder and pointed toward the east. Elga and two of her masked guards were scurrying down a narrow alley, heading toward the anterior gate. With our troops closer to infiltrating the fort, they were whisking their leader away to safety. We followed them, careful not to draw their attention until we were ready.

  After ensuring none of them were carrying bows or spears that could be directed at us, I called, “You are many things, Elga, but a coward isn’t among them.”

  All three froze. Elga turned first.

  ­­­I smiled at her, weapon at the ready. “Where are you going? The battle isn’t over yet. Please, stay so we can end this.”

  She regarded me for a moment, her gaze calculating. “Yes. Our time has come.”

  With a snarl, she pushed aside the guard who stood between us and came at me with frightening speed. I met her attack with vengeance of my own, leaving Kiara to fend off the other two men. Our swords clashed, the bite of metal on metal vibrating down our arms. In the moment it took for Elga to recover, I knocked aside her helmet and slammed her up against the wall. Her head hit with a sickening crack, but instead of disorienting her, it enraged her more. She pushed back with a primal grunt, driving me into the middle of the passageway. While parrying her blows, I turned so that my back was toward the mouth of the passage, not wishing to be trapped as poor Kiara was, should the fight turn against me.

  Elga advanced, pushing me into the open courtyard. One of her guards followed, but Kiara was hot on his heels, having already dispatched his friend. Their movement was enough to distract me, giving Elga the opportunity to change the arc of her blade, a move I didn’t see coming quite fast enough. I leapt to the side, trying to avoid her swing, but it caught the outside of my wrist, tearing a gash up to my elbow. Pain exploded before my arm went slack, useless. Reliant now on my sword arm, I kept fighting, trying to find a way to get under Elga’s guard before I tired. I stabbed at her, but she was quick, so the tip of my blade barely pierced her leather armor. I had to stop her advance. Otherwise I was likely to trip over something or simply falter from fatigue.

  A deafening crash sounded behind us, followed by a boom so loud it shook the ground. The main gates of the fort collapsed inward in a cloud of dust and dirt. Our soldiers rushed in—Accolon, Kay, Cinon, and Morgan among the sea of faces—only to be met by Saxons pouring out of every door and window, emerging from barracks and the keep to engulf our much smaller force. From the direction of stables, a chilling howl rang out, followed by a chorus of growls and snarls as a pack of man-sized wolfhounds were set loose. Within moments, they were tearing into flesh and ripping bones from sockets while their Saxon masters stabbed and sliced their way to victory.

  Evina’s army would not survive this. But they would die with blood on their swords and courage in their hearts. If the gods were kind, that was the memory that would pass down through the song of the bards when this day was recalled.

  I could do nothing to aid any of them, so I turned back to Elga, whose attention was still riveted on the battle at the gates. She was smiling, which only inflamed my anger. I took a deep breath, imagined Lancelot’s smiling face, and thrust forward, determined to finish this Saxon whore for good.

  Elga blocked my thrust, flicking my weapon aside as easily as if it had been made of grass. Before I even realized what was happening, her boot connected with my ankles and I was knocked off my feet, sword clattering to the ground as I dropped it so I wouldn’t impale myself in the fall. I hit the stones, trying to brace myself with my uninjured arm, but it crumpled with a snap as the bone broke. My hip was the next to make contact, sending pain radiating in every direction. I struggled to push myself onto my knees, but my arms were too wounded to be of much use. Elga stood over me, her tall form in silhouette against the blazing sun.

  So this was how I would end my days, cut down by a woman I’d made the mistake of trying to aid, who had been my sworn enemy for so long. Like a trapped animal, I searched for Kiara, praying she would come to my rescue and deliver me, but then I spotted her body in the alley, her opponent headed in our direction, no doubt to finish me off if Elga could not. Please, Mother, be with me, I prayed, refusing to avert my eyes as E
lga raised her sword to deliver my death blow.

  But it did not come. Instead, the earth rumbled again. Elga stumbled, her swing thrown off course. A flash of copper hair filled my vison as Morgan threw herself between Elga’s blade and me. She landed on top of me, blocking Elga from view.

  As I scrambled out from beneath Morgan’s unconscious and bleeding body, I saw Morgan’s sword protruding from Elga’s torso. For one long, frightening moment, she remained standing, staring in shock at the hilt sticking out of her gut. Then she collapsed.

  Stunned, I could not move, even as the guard advanced on me. When he was close enough to kick, I lashed out, connecting my foot with his shin, knowing he would kill me.

  “Be still, woman. I will not harm you,” he barked from behind a full-face helmet, hopping in my direction.

  I obeyed, my stomach twisting. There was something familiar about his voice.

  “Can you stand?”

  My heart lost its rhythm and my spine tingled as he grasped my shoulders and hauled me to my feet. My body recognized him even if my mind did not. I took a deep breath to steady myself, but the scent I inhaled nearly made me swoon. Oak and apple wood. But it was not possible. It could not be. I’d seen him die with my own eyes. Perhaps I had hit my head in my fight with Elga and was simply imagining things.

  He pulled me away from the carnage, but I dug in my heels. “I will not leave her,” I said, nodding toward Morgan.

  “If she is still alive, people are coming who can tend to her better than we can. If not, she does not need our aid. We have to get out of here.”

  “Why are you helping me?” I asked, my voice tremulous.

  Ignoring my question and my protests, my rescuer picked me up and dashed toward Kiara, who was beginning to stir. He kicked her weapon to her. “Get up. We must go or face what is left of Theodric’s army.”

  Holding her head with one hand and her side with the other, she obeyed. They took off at run, darting through the postern gate and into the surrounding wood as fast as their legs would carry them. My weight was no doubt slowing them down, but if I were put down, I would collapse on the spot. This was the best we could do.