Mistress of Legend

Chapter 4-3

I took the bottle and examined it. Now that she pointed it out, tiny letters near the neck designated it as valerian. While I had hoped this test would clearly proclaim Morgan’s guilt or innocence, all it had done was show that her case was not as cut-and-dried as that of Bishop Marius. I needed time to think. As much as I hated her, as much as I wanted to use this as an excuse for revenge, I could not do so out of hand, because everything Morgan said was plausible.

I handed the bottle back to her. “I was hoping that would provide us with a clear answer. But it has not.” I rubbed my head. “Let us adjourn for today. I may speak with each of you tomorrow if more questions arise.”

I left the council chambers and was on my way to the labyrinth at the center of Camelot, a courtyard garden made by Arthur for me as a wedding gift and meant as a place of refuge when I needed to clear my mind, when Arthur bellowed Aggrivane’s name.

I raced toward the sound, only to find Arthur leaning over a letter in the great hall, a messenger at his side. The midday light revealed his anger, his eyes flashing as they skimmed over the ink, cheeks enflamed, golden hair standing at attention like stalks of barley.

“My lord?” Aggrivane stepped as close to Arthur as he dared, wisely well out of arm’s reach.

Arthur looked up, seeming for a moment to have forgotten he’d called for Aggrivane. “I need as many fighting men as you can muster. Bring them to the barracks yard within the hour. I will survey them then.” He turned to me. “Guinevere, I need you to find the Combrogi and call back as many as you can.”

When Arthur made for the door, I grabbed his arm, stopping him before he could make it into the hall. “What is it? What is happening?”

“They—the house of Dorngwenn”—he stabbed the parchment—“have taken Kay hostage. I mean to get him back.”

“Isn’t there any other way? You said yourself you were loath to start a war.”

Arthur glared at me. “It is this or receive my brother’s body in pieces. They were very clear about that.”

“Then let me come with you. You know what an asset I can be in battle. You can leave me there with Lancelot once everything is over.”

Arthur studied me, considering my words. “No. I will not draw you into yet another war. Besides, your job here is not finished.”

He turned away, but I stopped him, forcing him to face me. “Then I will tell you my judgment now and you can act upon it whenever you will. Please, Arthur. Let us call an end to this.”

“No. I need someone here to ensure Morgan and Marius do not escape.”

“So I am their jailor now?” I asked, aghast.

“Be reasonable,” Arthur all but yelled. “Mordred will be concerned with affairs of state and I will be taking most of the Combrogi with me. I am entrusting them to your care because I know you will do what is right.”

“And you aren’t willing to be rid of me,” I said under my breath, but Arthur did not hear over his own summons to Mordred.

Mordred trotted to Arthur’s side before the echo of his name had faded. “Yes, Father?”

Arthur removed the torc from around his neck and placed it around his son’s. “I turn control of Camelot over to you. I must go to Brittany as soon as possible and likely will not return for some time. Do not carry out the sentence against Bishop Marius or pass judgment on your mother until I return.” He clasped his son’s shoulder. “See that peace is maintained in my absence and watch over Guinevere.”

Mordred beamed. “Of course, Father.”

The exchange should have been innocent, but when Mordred looked at me, something in his smile chilled my bones. An ambitious and well-trained heir, he had been waiting for just such an opportunity. Only time would tell how much Arthur would come to regret this choice.