Camelot's Queen

CHAPTER 4-1

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Summer 497

Combrogi—that’s what he called them. It was an ancient word meaning “fellow countrymen,” but to Arthur, it meant much more. Those men were his most trusted advisors, his brothers. They were also the strongest warriors in the land. Led by twelve prime members, each represented his own tribe and took Arthur’s decrees back to their lords. It was a relationship based in mutual trust. He hid nothing from them and listened to their thoughts, in return expecting them to respect his decisions and be open with their opinions. If that bond were broken, so too would be the tenuous peace that united us as one land.

They were more than a war council and something other than a team of advisors. Together the decisions the Combrogi made had to take into account the temperament of their lords, the needs of the peasants, threats from within and outside our borders, and still reconcile conflicts between generals in such a way they would supply Arthur’s needs for men, horses, and supplies.

As queen, I was now one of them, attending my first of their quarterly meetings held on each of the solar festivals. The Combrogi gathered in Arthur’s circular meeting hall, the area I had mistaken for a shrine on my first day at Camelot. Arthur and I sat in thrones raised slightly above the other seats. All others were equal in their places. A few chairs stood empty, waiting for the return of men who were out on assignments for the king.

Today my father occupied one of the open spaces. He was not technically a member of the Combrogi, but since he was visiting, he had insisted on sitting in. Arthur wasn’t pleased by this, but because Northgallis’s support would be crucial in the upcoming war, he’d acquiesced. He had, however, drawn the line at allowing Father Marius to accompany my father. Arthur had explained that not even Merlin attended these meetings and if Leodgrance felt the need for spiritual direction, he could obtain it in private, just as Arthur did.

As Gawain began his report on how the adoption of the stirrups and chainmail was progressing, I caught sight of a shadow drifting from left to right, right to left beneath the chamber doors. If I listened closely, I could hear the almost imperceptible sweep of fabric across the stones followed at even intervals by the whisper of Latin.

Marius. I smiled. It must have been killing him to wait outside, two armed guards barring his entrance. At least this was the last time he’d darken our doors for a while. He was leaving for Rome in the morning, called there by the leader of his religion to report on the spread of Christianity in our fair isle. With any luck, they would keep him there.

“The men are adapting to the new armor much better than the horses are to the new saddle and stirrup, my lord,” Gawain was saying when my attention returned to the room. “We are having some difficultly training them to it.”

“Perhaps if you didn’t beat them into submission, they would respect you rather than fear you,” I answered, temper rising quickly.

Horses were sacred to my family as a symbol of the Goddess. Call her Epona, Rhiannon, or any other name, horses were her animals, and I could not bear to see them harmed. I had never seen them mistreated until I came here. In Gwynedd, we loved our horses, letting them warm to us, and earned their trust over time. What resulted was a lifelong bond that was broken only by death. During one of the Irish attacks, I had even seen a horse turn on an enemy soldier when his rider was threatened.

In contrast, these northern men knew no way to get an animal to do their bidding other than to break its spirit. Horses, oxen, dogs—it didn’t matter; they wanted to dominate them all with whips and brands. I suspected they used the same tactics on their women.

I had hoped my position would help end their barbaric practices, but I could do little to make Arthur see reason. I had even demonstrated to the Combrogi how I’d learned to train my own horse and showed them how he could be taught to tolerate the modified saddle. But my advice had fallen on deaf ears, and the reason was always the same—“It takes too much time. Time we do not have.”

Arthur shot me a reproachful look. “Guinevere, we have discussed this. If anyone can show me an effective way to tame the stallions that does not take months of work, I will gladly employ his methods, but until then, we must continue with what we know. It is imperative that both horse and rider learn to accommodate our new offenses as quickly as possible.”

Gawain wisely moved on to another subject before I could respond. But he wasn’t talking for long before the chamber doors burst open and my heart stopped. Sweeping through the door with great agitation was my former fiancé, followed by a man whose angelic gaze took my breath away.

Aggrivane bowed before Arthur, ignoring me completely. “Your Majesty, my lords, I apologize for the interruption. But word reached me you were looking for this man.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Lancelot. “I have found him, and I now happily deliver him to you.”

Something in Aggrivane’s voice told me he was still smarting from Lancelot’s victory at the tournament in Dyfed two summers before. The pair had obviously not bonded on their journey here.

Lancelot bowed, first to me then to Arthur. “I am pleased to be of service to you, High King. Please tell me how I may help.” His accent made every word sound as though it tumbled on a light breeze.

Arthur gestured for the two men to sit. The only empty chairs left were on either side of Tristan, directly opposite me, so I had no choice but to look at the two of them. Lancelot smiled warmly at me, but Aggrivane still refused to acknowledge my presence.

Arthur addressed Aggrivane. “I thank you for doing what no other of my subjects seem capable of—” He nodded at Lancelot. “Harnessing the wind. As a gesture of my thanks, Aggrivane, you may take a place among my Combrogi, if you wish.”

I stopped breathing. No, no, no, no, no. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Arthur knew our history. He couldn’t be so thick as to name Aggrivane one of his most trusted men, could he?

But then I remembered Arthur’s deal with Lot, who had led an unsuccessful rebellion shortly after Arthur came to power. As punishment, Lot’s sons were forever under Arthur’s control, and Arthur preferred to keep them as close as possible. I let out a silent sigh, sagging in my chair. It looked as though I would have to get used to having my former lover around, something I was not comfortable with. As much as I had learned to be happy with Arthur, part of my heart still belonged to Aggrivane.

Aggrivane looked at Arthur with great surprise. Apparently he hadn’t expected so kind a reception either. “My Lord, I am honored to accept.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes to steely darts directed at Aggrivane. “My offer is, of course, based on the provision that you have kept your word to me.”

I looked from the man I’d thought would be my husband to the one who was. As far as I knew, they hadn’t seen one another since the night Arthur proposed to me and sent my life crashing down around me. I had no idea what promise Arthur could have extracted from Aggrivane.

Arthur’s features relaxed as Aggrivane nodded slowly. “Good. I look forward to seeing proof of your fidelity.” He turned his attention to Lancelot. “I assume my lord Lothian has told you I have taken your advice on how to improve our forces? You are well-known for your skill with horses, are you not?”

“Oui,” Lancelot answered, somewhat perplexed.

“Then you will join us in the stable yard at noon. We are all eager to see what you can do.” Arthur banged his fist on the table three times, and the meeting was adjourned.

“What did he mean, ‘proof of your fidelity?’” I demanded as the door boomed shut behind me.

Aggrivane didn’t look up from where he sat, drinking deeply from a cup of what smelled like strong red wine. The shutters were shut, blocking out the daylight, so the only illumination came from the fire pit. But in that subtle glow, I saw him wince.

“Why do you not ask him yourself? He is your husband.” The words were forced through gritted teeth.

“Aggrivane, do not do this. Do not behave like this,” I begged.

“How am I behaving? Like a jilted lover? No, I have no right to that title.”

His sarcasm stung. I crossed my arms defensively, as if to ward off his anger.

“Tell me, how long after I left that night did it take you to fall into his arms? Or his bed?”

I ignored his question. “Need I remind you that you left me? You left me to face my unwanted fate all alone. The least you could have done was stand by my side and fight for me.”

He wrenched the cork from a bottle and poured himself another glass of wine without looking up. “What good would that have done? He is High King. I am nothing in comparison. From what I hear, your fate was sealed long before that night. You were never intended to be with me.”

“Arthur was not aware of our relationship. Did you know that?”

Aggrivane met my gaze then, apparently speechless.

“If you had stayed, if we had faced him together, none of this would have happened. We might be together now.”

Aggrivane swallowed hard, the shadow of what could have been darkening his eyes. “Might is the operative word. He could just as easily have dismissed me and taken you to wife anyway. He bears no love for my family, remember? Even now he uses my father’s attempted rebellion to hold me to foolish promises.”

I bent in front of him to grasp the arms of his chair. “Exactly what proof does he expect to see?”

“You do not want me to answer that, my queen.” His face was only inches from mine, but he kept his eyes trained on the crimson bottom of his cup.

“Aggrivane, please stop with the formality. It is only the two of us here. Remember us?” My mind flashed back to the night we were reunited at Corbenic and our frantic lovemaking. My cheeks flushed, but I doubted he saw it. “Answer the question.”

“Fine.” He let the silence stretch out before meeting my gaze with cold, emotionless eyes. “Arthur wishes to meet my wife.”

I recoiled as though he had punched me in the gut. “You are married?”

The words hung in the air like a bird gliding on the wind.

Then he shot them down with the only arrow that would find the mark. “And you are pregnant.”

My hands automatically went to my belly. It wasn’t yet obvious through my clothing, so someone must have told him. “Yes, I am.”

I moved away and opened the shutters.

He squinted at me through the bright light. “Well, we make quite the pair, do we not? Both married to people we do not love and you with a child on the way.”

“I never said I do not love Arthur,” I said automatically, then the full meaning of his words hit me and my stomach clenched. “Wait—you are not in love with your wife?” I sat across from him, unconsciously leaning toward him.

“Do you really think I could fall in love with someone in such a short time?” He sounded hurt. “I do love Camille but not the way I loved you.”

I cringed. Camille? What sort of name was that? It sounded fitting for a cat or maybe a prize dairy cow.

“When my father sent me away, it was back to the Saxon border where he knew my mind would be preoccupied with other things, like staying alive. Sometime later, I heard of your wedding. That was a grim time for me, and I will not insult your intelligence by saying I spent that night alone. It was easy to find comfort in the arms of a stranger.”

Hurt bubbled up inside me. Telling me he had been with a w***e or his wife was a w***e, whichever the case may be, was not helping.