THE WARRIOR QUEEN (The Guinevere Trilogy Book 1) by Lavinia Collins Page B
Authors: Lavinia Collins
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seemed nervous, drawing me aside to ask me quietly, “My lady... I trust, I trust my Lord Arthur was kind?”
I knew what he meant. I nodded.
“He was kind, sir.”
Ector sighed with visible relief. “He is a kind boy – ah, a kind king, a kind man, a good man – I was sure he would only be so. Just, young men can be foolish, when passions… and a lady as beautiful as yourself –”
I nodded again, and he smiled. I could see he had worried over it. I was glad he had asked. I was glad that this warm, avuncular man who had nothing to do with me, to whom I was nothing but a foreign princess, cared. I was pleased, also, that Arthur had been raised by such a man. Already I was finding it hard to hold on to the hard stone of hate that I had carried with me from Carhais. It was being worn smooth, turning to sand, running through my fingers. Ector pressed a fatherly kiss against my cheek and walked over to join Arthur and Merlin. If Ector was not afraid of the witch, perhaps I need not be either.
From the church behind me came Arthur’s sister Morgan. Her face was blue as Merlin’s with woad, but she could pass into that place. She was wearing the same shining dark gown of deep blue and sapphire and as the light caught it, she looked half-dragon. But she was not. Only Arthur fought under the banners of the dragon. Her father had been another, some duke of an outlying kingdom. She gave me a cold look as she passed by, but said nothing, and I was not sure if the cold look was at me, or past me.
Watching her go, I did not notice that Arthur had come back to my side. He slid an arm around my waist and drew me to his side. “I’m sorry I left you on your own.” He spoke, soft and deep, into my ear, letting his lips brush against it. I felt the hot, pleasant prickle of the intimacy of it at the base of my spine. But the words that came next chilled it from me. “Merlin has had news from Rome. The Emperor is not pleased there is a King of all Britain.”
I felt a sinking in the pit of my stomach. Not already .
“There might be more war,” I said, softly.
“There might. But not any day soon. And now is not the time to think about it.”
He gave me an easy smile, but he was wary. I was pleased he was wary. It meant that he was a good king, thinking of his people and his borders. Perhaps he did care about those scattered little villages I had seen on the way. As time went on, I felt more sure he might.
Kay sauntered past and flashed us both a knowing smile. Arthur smiled back warmly, and chuckled under his breath. Reminded of the morning in public, I blushed dark red. I was angry with myself for blushing again, and angry for Kay for making me blush. I did not want to appear embarrassed or weak. Arthur had not noticed, but when I caught Kay’s eye, I saw he had. He looked a little sorry, but also a little pleased, and slunk off into the shadows with a kind little wink. He was truly a creature of my blood. I had known many boys and men like that growing up. Wicked as sprites, but kind.
Gawain came up then. He bowed to me, brusquely.
“My lady queen.” Then to Arthur, “My Lord Arthur.”
Arthur smiled at him broadly. I found it strange that Arthur had as much of a big, open smile for the gruff Gawain as he had for the charming Kay. Before Gawain could speak what he meant to, a hunting-horn was blown and we were called to feast again.
“Another feast?” I asked.
“But surely, my lady, you are hungry?” Arthur whispered to me with that wicked, boyish smile. I could not suppress a smile in return.
This time I could taste the food, and I had an appetite for it. There was grilled fish, cooked with mushrooms and onions, a huge roasted boar, potatoes roasted in goose fat, plump game birds, little meat pies, plates piled high with every kind of vegetable, and big, hot sweet pies filled with apples and pears, which were the first thing I knew to ever make Gawain smile. Arthur laughed indulgently as Gawain cheered
I knew what he meant. I nodded.
“He was kind, sir.”
Ector sighed with visible relief. “He is a kind boy – ah, a kind king, a kind man, a good man – I was sure he would only be so. Just, young men can be foolish, when passions… and a lady as beautiful as yourself –”
I nodded again, and he smiled. I could see he had worried over it. I was glad he had asked. I was glad that this warm, avuncular man who had nothing to do with me, to whom I was nothing but a foreign princess, cared. I was pleased, also, that Arthur had been raised by such a man. Already I was finding it hard to hold on to the hard stone of hate that I had carried with me from Carhais. It was being worn smooth, turning to sand, running through my fingers. Ector pressed a fatherly kiss against my cheek and walked over to join Arthur and Merlin. If Ector was not afraid of the witch, perhaps I need not be either.
From the church behind me came Arthur’s sister Morgan. Her face was blue as Merlin’s with woad, but she could pass into that place. She was wearing the same shining dark gown of deep blue and sapphire and as the light caught it, she looked half-dragon. But she was not. Only Arthur fought under the banners of the dragon. Her father had been another, some duke of an outlying kingdom. She gave me a cold look as she passed by, but said nothing, and I was not sure if the cold look was at me, or past me.
Watching her go, I did not notice that Arthur had come back to my side. He slid an arm around my waist and drew me to his side. “I’m sorry I left you on your own.” He spoke, soft and deep, into my ear, letting his lips brush against it. I felt the hot, pleasant prickle of the intimacy of it at the base of my spine. But the words that came next chilled it from me. “Merlin has had news from Rome. The Emperor is not pleased there is a King of all Britain.”
I felt a sinking in the pit of my stomach. Not already .
“There might be more war,” I said, softly.
“There might. But not any day soon. And now is not the time to think about it.”
He gave me an easy smile, but he was wary. I was pleased he was wary. It meant that he was a good king, thinking of his people and his borders. Perhaps he did care about those scattered little villages I had seen on the way. As time went on, I felt more sure he might.
Kay sauntered past and flashed us both a knowing smile. Arthur smiled back warmly, and chuckled under his breath. Reminded of the morning in public, I blushed dark red. I was angry with myself for blushing again, and angry for Kay for making me blush. I did not want to appear embarrassed or weak. Arthur had not noticed, but when I caught Kay’s eye, I saw he had. He looked a little sorry, but also a little pleased, and slunk off into the shadows with a kind little wink. He was truly a creature of my blood. I had known many boys and men like that growing up. Wicked as sprites, but kind.
Gawain came up then. He bowed to me, brusquely.
“My lady queen.” Then to Arthur, “My Lord Arthur.”
Arthur smiled at him broadly. I found it strange that Arthur had as much of a big, open smile for the gruff Gawain as he had for the charming Kay. Before Gawain could speak what he meant to, a hunting-horn was blown and we were called to feast again.
“Another feast?” I asked.
“But surely, my lady, you are hungry?” Arthur whispered to me with that wicked, boyish smile. I could not suppress a smile in return.
This time I could taste the food, and I had an appetite for it. There was grilled fish, cooked with mushrooms and onions, a huge roasted boar, potatoes roasted in goose fat, plump game birds, little meat pies, plates piled high with every kind of vegetable, and big, hot sweet pies filled with apples and pears, which were the first thing I knew to ever make Gawain smile. Arthur laughed indulgently as Gawain cheered
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