The Chessboard Queen (15 page)

“She has always sent me letters and presents, but if she loves me so, why couldn’t I have gone to her at once? I’m sorry. I have loved being here with you and I hope to be back at Caerleon by winter. But I had so hoped she would insist that I come to her as soon as I left Armorica.”

“I don’t think she was allowed to. Your father wanted you to come here. Sidra hasn’t been well, you know. I always forget that she is not strong, she would never let anyone see a weakness in her. Perhaps he thought you should wait until she was feeling better.”

The excuse sounded weak. What was the real reason? Guinevere knew how dreadfully Sidra missed her only daughter. All the fosterlings in Britain couldn’t make up for the one child she had been coerced to send to safety. Lydia was still looking at her questioningly. Guinevere shrugged.

“I don’t really know, Lydia. I suppose the only thing you can do is ask her.”

Footsteps clattered up the wooden stairs. Gawain burst into the room.

“You’ll never believe this. With everything almost packed and ready to leave, who do you think should ride up with ten of his hangers-on? Meleagant! Who does he think he is? Says he’s decided to see this famous city of Arthur’s. Seems he’s never heard of an invitation. Arthur needs you two to come down and be gracious or something. He’s furious, of course, but doesn’t want Meleagant to know it. He’s having the kitchens set up again. Cei is seeing that the hangings are put back on the walls in the Great Hall and the dining hall. Merlin is down at the gates now, holding Meleagant off until we can get things looking regal again.”

Guinevere looked wildly around the room. Her best robes were already boxed. The maid had just finished wrapping her jewelry in leather and silk. Each parcel was carefully tied and stowed with the clothes.

“But, Gawain,” she gasped. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning!”

“I know. Arthur would love to send you now, if he could. It’s just like that bastard Meleagant to pull something like this. Anything to put Arthur at a disadvantage. He’s boasted to half the kings that it’s all nonsense to try to reunite Britain and that even if it weren’t, Arthur isn’t the man to do it.”

The room could barely hold Gawain’s anger. Even his vibrant curls seemed to shiver with wrath. Guinevere felt the emotion more easily than she understood the reason for it. No one must put Arthur in a bad light! She wrenched open the box which held her summer dresses.

“Lydia, help me find that midnight-blue silk with the silver trim. Gawain, on your way out, send one of the maids up to do my hair. Lydia, which box do you think she put my gold earrings in, the ones with the lapis in the center? Don’t bother to open your things. One mess is enough. We don’t want to repack everything. Take one of my robes. There, the red silk one. That will be fine for you; it will bring out the auburn in your hair. Gawain, why are you still here?”

Gawain jumped. “Sorry. I’ll tell Arthur you’ll be right down.” He grinned at them.

“That’s the way! You two will knock them out! We’ll show that imitation, upstart, so-called king what a real court looks like! He has nothing that can compare with Camelot!”

Guinevere waved him off. She frantically pulled material out of boxes, rummaging through them for ointments and perfume vials. Lydia stood with the silk gown in her arms, staring at it as if it might fly away.

“You want me to wear this?” she breathed.

“Yes, if you would. I know you don’t like ostentation, but I think we ought to overdo a bit for this. Make Meleagant think we dress this way all the time. I know I have a necklace to match that gown, gold and rubies. Where could it be? These packages all look alike. Come help me, please. We have to hurry.”

• • •

Meleagant’s party was given a very thorough tour of the earthworks that wound around and around the hill up to Camelot. Merlin made sure that they noticed every detail of the defenses, especially how people in the mazelike paths could neither see out nor up to the city, but men in the watchtowers could spot and aim at them perfectly. It took half an hour to arrive at the main gates at the top. Arthur had stationed guards there with horns, which they blew loudly if with little skill. These were both to salute Meleagant and to warn everyone that he had appeared. Cei greeted Meleagant’s party formally and led them to the Hall of the Table, where Arthur awaited them.

The room was brilliant with torches. The Table shone in the glow. Arthur was seated at one end of the room in a great, carved throne. He did not intend to ask Meleagant to seat himself at the Round Table and there were no chairs anywhere else. As they entered, he rose and came forward to greet them, arms outstretched, as if their visit had been long awaited and desired.

“Meleagant!” he cried. “We are honored that you have taken the trouble to travel so far to see our new capital. Did my messenger not reach you? Your neighbor, Lord Craddoc, has invited us to stay with him in only a few weeks. We certainly planned on visiting with you, also. There was a matter of a village that Craddoc wished us to mention.”

Meleagant was taken off guard. “That village is mine. It always has been. Craddoc only wants it because there is a pond there that is supposed to make all animals which drink from it produce twin offspring.”

Merlin laid a hand on his arm. “You haven’t greeted the King yet,” he said calmly.

Meleagant felt the warning beneath his words, the slight emphasis on the title. He shuffled his feet a bit and finally made a perfunctory bow.

“We beg your hospitality, King Arthur.” The bile rose in his throat at the words. This so-called son of Uther! What gave him the right to be Overlord?

“We plan to stay only a night or two and then return to our own lands. If you intend to honor our dear neighbor, Craddoc, with your company, we hope you will also spend an evening at our castle. I am sure you will find my defenses as interesting as your own.”

Arthur smiled graciously. “My knights and I will be delighted to inspect your castle. Your secure defense system there is well-known. Now, fortunately, you have arrived here in time for our evening meal. Will you give us the honor of sharing it with you?”

Meleagant had not considered doing anything else.

Lydia and Guinevere were waiting at the door of the dining hall as they approached. Arthur could tell from the quick intake of breath from the man beside him that Meleagant truly had no one at his court to compare with his Guinevere. He allowed himself a smirk of complacence. Whatever awe he might still feel toward her, it was nothing to the wonder of those who saw her for the first time. But what had happened to Lydia? Good Lord! The mouse was beautiful! The red silk gleamed against her pale skin, accenting the fragility of it. Her hair had been looped and curled and was bound with a red-gold cord. The curls suited her far better than the simple braids she usually wore. Well. That was unexpected, but certainly a bonus. Arthur began to feel more comfortable about the prospect of an evening with this uninvited guest.

The wine was not the best. That had already been sent ahead to Caerleon. But it made no difference to Meleagant. He only knew that the wine was wet and potent and that was all that mattered. Arthur had planted him firmly between Merlin and Guinevere, where his determination to cause trouble could be checked. His men were also well spaced among the tables. Cei had taken one look at Lydia and seated himself next to her, regardless of his duty as seneschal.

Even before the meal arrived, Meleagant was boasting about his impregnable castle. No army could broach its walls or besiege it with success.

“We have our own water inside and are well-stocked with fish and fowl. We trade only for bread and ale and, in time of war, we could make the sacrifice and do without. Great as your Camelot is, I don’t think you could do as well.”

“Perhaps Arthur will never need to withstand a siege,” Merlin said smoothly, reaching for a slab of bread. The bracelets gleamed on his wrists.

Meleagant was reminded that Arthur had access to powers which were other than human. He changed the subject.

“What about these ‘knight’ fellows of yours? I see that you have Lot’s oldest boys here or, I should say, his wife’s.” He broke into a loud guffaw, which turned into a belch.

Agravaine, quick to feel a family insult, reached for his knife. As his hand went to the dagger, it was covered by that of Geraidus, who shook his head.

“A knight, Agravaine, must learn not to fall into such simple traps. Ignore him. He is baiting us all.”

Meleagant appeared not to have noticed how nearly he had come to being spitted as he ate. He continued, “What is so special about these men of yours? They don’t look like anything to me. Faugh! Most of them are still boys. The men who fought with you before, such as myself, have all returned to manage their lands. Do you propose that these unweaned calves are to tell us what to do? I’ll bet that not one of them could manage to penetrate my castle. Not one!”

He glared around the room, waiting for the uproar. All was polite silence. Arthur smiled.

“I think you might be wrong, sir. I have chosen my men for their intelligence. I assume that they will be able to employ it as well as their military prowess should they ever need to enter without your invitation. But, naturally, it will never be necessary to test them on you. We are allies, are we not?”

His voice was so silken that even Merlin could not be sure the threat was intended. Meleagant set down his cup with a clatter.

“Of course we are!” he boomed, and everyone released their breath. “But let’s just say, for a wager, an amusement, that my men and I can take something of yours and keep it hostage at my castle. I’ll bet that not one of your so-called ‘knights’ or all of them together can get it back. Come on, Arthur! If I can do it, I get to keep whatever it is until, say, Easter. If you can retrieve it, then I’ll acknowledge your overlordship and back you against the other kings. I’ll even send you my second son for fostering. How would that be?”

He lolled back in his chair, the picture of a drunken lout. Arthur knew better. His father-in-law had told him once that Meleagant was known for being able to drink steadily all night while never missing a target at stick-knife or needing to leave the table. An hour of wine would hardly have dented his capacity. There was no doubt that he had come all the way to Camelot for the purpose of making this “wager.” Arthur tried to catch Merlin’s eye. Damn! He wouldn’t turn. Merlin had told him that the time had come when he would have to make his own decisions, but a little advice was not so much to ask for. Arthur took a sip of wine and leaned back on his cushions. Torchlight flickered on the walls and on the faces of all those waiting—waiting for him to act. Gently he set down the cup. Foolish as it might seem, this was the sort of test that would be understood by all the kings and lords in their various holds and kingdoms. The native Celtic lore was filled with many such contests. He could only hope that he had not overestimated his knights.

“Very well, Meleagant.” He spoke softly, drawing out the name until it sounded like a pagan curse. “It is heard and witnessed by all here that if you are able to steal something from me and hold it in your castle until Easter, you are free to be independent of my laws. But if any of my men can enter your castle and recapture the thing, you will henceforth consider yourself my loyal subject.”

He emphasized the last word. Meleagant squirmed, but it was pretense. He was totally confident, as he proved at once.

“Right,” he said. “I agree. Remember that the man must enter the castle and then find the object. I will even allow him to leave without hindrance if he can but lay hands on the thing. That’s fair, don’t you think? No sense in getting him killed trying to fight his way out. Right?”

Arthur inclined his head. “Certainly. But first, Meleagant, you must be able to take something of mine. I will not insult you by asking your men to be searched before they leave. I know you will not bother with anything as trivial as a spoon or a wine cup.”

Meleagant grinned and Guinevere realized in horror that he was totally sober. She wondered if Arthur knew. Yes, she could tell he did. She shivered. What an odious man! Thank goodness she was leaving tomorrow. With luck, she might never have to see him again. He looked at her. She smiled sweetly at him and rose.

“Please excuse us, gentlemen,” she said. “The Lady Lydia and I have to finish packing for our journey. Please continue to enjoy yourselves in our absence.”

Cei stood when Lydia got up to leave and so, belatedly, did the rest of the men. They waited in respectful silence as the women left.

Outside, Guinevere took Lydia’s arm.

“What dreadful people Arthur has to mollify. I didn’t understand half of what they were talking about. It sounded to me like silly games for boys to play. What did you think?”

“I’m sorry, Guinevere. I wasn’t paying attention. Cei was telling me about his father’s lands and the things he and Arthur used to do before he became King. I didn’t notice what else was happening.”

Guinevere gave her a sharp glance. “Lydia, are you in love with Cei?”

Lydia blushed, but the night hid her face. “I don’t know. I only find that I am very happy when I am with him and long to see him again when he is gone.”

Guinevere did not know if that was love or not. Did Arthur make her feel happy? She was not sure. She missed him when he went away, but did it really matter that he was with her? No, she could not pretend that.

“How interesting, Lydia. You must tell your mother about him,” was all she said.

It was late when Arthur came in. The noise from the Hall had awakened Guinevere once or twice, but she was asleep when he carefully climbed into bed. Dimly she felt his arm go around her and she tried to pull herself awake. Maybe if she snuggled in closer, he would go to sleep. No, he wanted her to wake. He was murmuring in her ear. She did not need to make it out. She knew that he loved her and would miss her terribly. Of course he would. She wanted so much just to roll over and stay asleep, but she could not do that to him on their last night together. Why couldn’t she love him the way he did her? She knew it was her job, but . . . if only he would be quick tonight! She forced herself to wake and kissed his cheek.