The Chessboard Queen (26 page)

“You will have to be the one to do it, then. I want no part of him.”

But he noticed that she didn’t mention sending him away. “You’re a kind woman, Edra. The gods won’t let us stay childless. Do I smell meat in that pot?”

He handed a bowl of meat and a slab of bread to their guest. The man ate sloppily, but seemed to know that the bread was to wipe the juice from the bowl. Cloten watched him curiously.

“You know, Edra, I don’t think he was always like this. He may have had a fever or a fall. Recently, I mean. Some of those cuts are too deep to be from brambles. Perhaps he was a trader set upon by thieves. If we care for him, someday we may be rewarded.”

Edra smiled. “You always have such grand dreams, Cloten. I love to listen to them. But, if this poor fool were a rich man, why would he have been traveling alone? No, I will be content if the gods give us our reward. But,” she added significantly, “we must give them some help. Are you very tired from your journey today?”

For answer, he grabbed her about the waist and lifted her high as she laughed. Then he banked the fire and washed his feet while she braided her hair. Before he went to join her in bed, he checked on their guest.

Curled warmly between two ewes, Lancelot was sound asleep.

• • •

Far away, in the southeastern corner of Britain, Aelle, the Saxon king, was not sleeping well at all. It was not the snoring from the others which kept him awake, although a stranger would have been deafened by it. He was deprived of his rest by news he had gotten that day about Arthur. Aelle had counted on the natural animosity among the British tribes to pull Arthur’s conquests apart with no help from the Saxons, but it was not working. Somehow the man was bringing them together. Aelle pounded his sleeping furs in anger and then sneezed at the dust rising from them. There must be a way to stop this so-called King of the Britons before he gathered the strength to attack Saxon land.

Twice before, Arthur had defeated and humiliated Aelle. The first time was at Mons Badon. Then, by all rights, the Saxons should have won easily. Their position was by far the stronger. That was bad enough, but the next time, Arthur had played upon the superstition of the Saxon soldiers and frightened them into giving up that Whynhevere woman they had kidnapped. Then he had married her!

“She would have made a fine hostage, too,” he muttered to himself. “Even a useful alliance. Something must be done about this soon.”

He ruminated for so long about it that it was deep into the night before he finally rested and far into the day before he awoke. But, even as dawn was blossoming, Aelle’s nephew, Cissa, was up and outside.

To those who were native to Britain, it was an old land, familiar and unchanging. But to Cissa, newly arrived from crowded Saxony, it was a raw, unknown, wild expanse, to be tamed or conquered. The forests were rich with game and there were rumors of gold and silver mines in the west. But the Britons had allowed themselves to be sapped and weakened. The slaves here were small and spiritless, fit to be nothing more than chattel. The few free Britons he had met were not much better. They seemed unable to see or use the treasures around them. They had even stopped breeding, it seemed, if the empty farms and towns around were any indication.

“They are nothing. We could wipe out the whole population with one hand,” he said aloud.

“Not quite,” a voice behind him answered.

Cissa jumped. He had not heard his cousin, Ecgfrith, approach. He did not think much of Aelle’s son. Ecgfrith had been part of that night rout when Arthur’s men had made a fool of Aelle. No one paid Ecgfrith much attention these days.

He sidled up to Cissa. “I said, ‘Not quite the whole population,’ but there is a way we could do some serious damage to it. Remember how, back in our first days here, Vortigern called our grandfathers to Britain to fight for him? We gave a dinner then, a council, and invited the lords of Britain to it. Do you know what the last course was?”

“Certainly, a knife in the throat. Over four hundred of them were killed that day. We should have conquered the whole island then.”

“Perhaps, but our grandfathers made one mistake. They thought only in the present. It was the old ones who died. They were the war leaders, it is true, but they left young sons and sister-sons to carry out their revenge. That is why we lost at Mons Badon. Why should we bother with the old men? What good are they without their progeny, what threat? Leave them to wither and destroy their young!”

Cissa moved away in disgust. “You are expecting Saxon warriors to slaughter children? You do not deserve to live in your father’s hall.”

Ecgfrith swallowed, but let the insult pass. “Not children, but soldiers, being trained now to one day lead the Britons against us. And now is the time to stop them. I know how we can do it.”

Cissa turned away. The glory of the morning was spoiled for him. Ecgfrith’s plans always had a smear of dishonor about them.

“If you have such grand ideas, cousin, then Aelle is the one you should speak with. He is still our lord.”

“You know he will not listen to me!” Ecgfrith snapped. It had been his idea to steal Guinevere, and Aelle did not forgive failure. “But he will pay attention if you and your brothers join with me in proposing a raid. My plan is perfect. We will not only destroy those who would one day raise armies against us, but we will also capture one of their watch stations that keep us from bringing the men and supplies we need from the homeland.”

Against his will, Cissa was becoming interested. “You mean Cador, don’t you, the place where you were held? They say it is impregnable, all stone and sand with no cover. How would you take it?”

“I know every stone of it. The way I escaped is the way we will enter. It cannot fail. You have heard that only the greatest families send their children there. Our revenge would be greater for the hostage price the women will bring.”

That was a thought. Gold was the measure of a man here. And Cissa was intrigued by the few British women he had seen, so small and dark, totally unlike the proud Saxon women who stood of a height with the men and looked them in the eye when they spoke. One always knew what they thought. Perhaps a hostage might be convinced to stay. But Ecgfrith must not be given the satisfaction of knowing that he had finally gotten Cissa’s attention.

“I have other things to do today. Talk to my brothers, if you like, and to your father. I will not argue against it if it is mentioned in the moot this winter.”

He strolled away, affecting boredom, but Ecgfrith was content. He was caught. The others would be easy. By spring they would do it and at last Ecgfrith would have his revenge.

Chapter Fourteen

Arthur leaned forward in his chair at the council table at Caerleon. He searched the faces before him: Merlin, Cei, Cador, and Cador’s son, Constantine. They stared gravely back, waiting for him to begin. He cleared his throat.

“I have called you all here today to get your advice. I’ve been hearing over and over this winter that Aelle and his family are traveling from one Saxon stronghold to another. They’ve been seen in almost every one of the villages. There is something going on. Normally they don’t set foot out of doors until the end of March. I have a list here of the places they were known to have been. Even Ecgfrith seems to be taking part in this. I thought he was out of favor.”

Cador studied the list for a few minutes. It was written on thin, many-times-scraped vellum and at some places the old writing showed through and made it hard to decipher. He squinted at the scratched lines.

“It could be merely an internal problem, some sort of power challenge,” he suggested. “Aelle never really regained the strength he had before you tricked him so well six years ago.”

Arthur shook his head. “It might be, but I suspect something more. They’ve been much too docile these past few years. . . . What is all that noise out there!”

In the courtyard outside the King’s quarters a wild fistfight had erupted. Two men were floundering in the mud, trying to get a clear shot at each other, while the rest of the knights circled them, shouting encouragement or personal insults. Arthur pulled aside the leather curtain and leaned out the window.

“Gawain!”

Gawain had been leaning against the opposite wall, watching in amusement.

“Yes, Uncle?”

“Stop that fight and bring those men up to me—after they’ve been washed.”

A broad smile filled Gawain’s face. “I’d be happy to, sir!”

The winter sun was watery and weak, but it was enough to make Gawain the equal in strength of any ten men at Caerleon. Happily he waded into the melee and bodily lifted the two combatants out. He held them dangling at the ends of his arms as they glared and struggled.

“The King wants to see you, such sterling examples of knighthood that you are,” he told them. “But since he wants to recognize who has been disturbing him so, a trip to the baths is first in order. I myself will escort you there and see that you receive full benefit of the water.”

As the group laughed and shouted advice to Gawain, he dragged the two discomfitted men to the huge antique baths, where they were helped out of their clothes and into the water by several of their companions.

Arthur watched as they made their way across the yard. What a mess! He wasn’t thinking of the mud.

“That’s the third fight this week. Can’t we find anything else for them to do?”

The four men at the table were silent. Arthur turned back to them. “Well, what is it? You obviously have an opinion. Tell me.”

Constantine looked to his father, who cleared his throat. “Master Merlin?” he asked, hoping he would take the initiative.

Merlin seemed to have been paying no attention. He started up as if he had been sleeping. “Eh, what now? Fighting? That’s your business, not mine. Solve it yourselves.”

Abruptly he got up and left. Arthur sighed.

“He’s been like that more and more lately. I can’t get out of him what the problem is, only that it has nothing to do with me. But you don’t need him to tell me what you think. What is this continual friction among the knights?”

Cador rubbed his fingers in his palms nervously. “Arthur, that is not my business, either. I’m no good off a battlefield. But I have heard things, hints. I could be completely mistaken.”

“Constantine, will you tell me what your father is too diplomatic to say?”

Constantine coughed and then swallowed. “You see, sir, as he said, we might be wrong, but the feeling is that some of the men are upset about what happened to Sir Lancelot.”

“Of course they are! Don’t you think I am? It’s been three months and no one can find a trace of him!”

“I know, but it’s more than that. Some of them—not all, of course—seem inclined to blame the Queen. I know that’s a lie,” he added quickly, “but it has caused bad blood among some. They say that she should have been reprimanded.”

“What! Who dares to tell me what I should do with my own wife?”

Cei intervened. Constantine was too young to stay firm in an argument like this.

“No one tells you what to do in private, Arthur, but you have forgotten that this is not a family matter. Lancelot is an officer of Britain. If you had sent him away, no one would have spoken, but Guinevere had no authority, no right, to speak to him in such a way. The younger men, especially, looked up to Lancelot. Some of them are very bitter.”

“What do they say?”

“It doesn’t matter, Arthur. They are angry and don’t truly mean their words. I suspect that there may be only one or two people who start the others off, who whisper lies until the truth is forgotten. They take advantage of the winter and the men’s resentment. I will discover who they are soon. But something must be done now.”

“What do you suggest? I can’t very well announce to the world that my wife has the power to drive men mad, but she is very sorry and will not let it happen again. Is that what they want? If they suggested that I burn her for a witch, would you agree to that, too? Who is ruler here?”

Cador began rubbing his hands again. “You were planning to move to Camelot at the beginning of April, weren’t you?”

“Yes. This summer I will stay in one place. I had planned to send some of the more experienced knights out to deal with the complaints and demands. I thought they might each take one of the new men as a sort of apprentice. It’s time we began. What has that to do with Guinevere?”

Cador’s fingers were warm with the ferocity of his nervousness. “It might be a good idea, just for the summer, to send Guinevere somewhere else.”

Arthur exploded. “What are you saying! The first time I’ve managed to plan a year with her, you want me to send her away. I thought you were one of those so eager for the two of us to have children. It won’t be easy with me at Camelot and her—where?”

Cador shied away from the subject of children. There was no point in it. “She might be seized with a longing to see her parents. She is very attached to them. Hear me out, Arthur! We might mention Lancelot, not that she is to be blamed for what happened, but that she is grieved for your loss of such a friend. She can go on a retreat to pray for his recovery. That would quiet those who slander her and give her defenders something to point to. It might work.”

“This is ridiculous!” Arthur muttered.

“Wait, Arthur, let me finish. With her gone, there would be no reason for most of the other women to stay. We need some time for intensive training and discipline. You can see how unruly the men are now. How can a man be at his best when he’s got a woman pampering him or after listening all night to a baby screaming? That’s what I think. You asked me and there it is.”

Arthur had to laugh, even through his anger. Ten years ago, Cador had been his leader, had given all the orders. Now he hesitated to give a simple difference of opinion. Nothing brought home more strongly Arthur’s position in Britain.

“And what would
your
wife say to a suggestion like that, Cador?”

Constantine chuckled. “I’m sorry, Father. But I can just hear her, agreeing with you and then ignoring everything you had said. She always has followed her own mind, you know.”