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“That baby...”
“Your child,” I said. “Your daughter.”
Arthur’s eyes widened. “A daughter? I had thought a son...”
“You thought wrongly,” I exclaimed. “You have always,alwaysthought wrongly, Arthur. And tonight, you will finally hear the truth. What have you done, Arthur? Out there, in the city, what the fuck have you done? Can you not even see what you’ve become? You’re a monster, Arthur. You’re hardly a man at all.”
I could hear the whiff of hysteria in my voice as I held Kaye tighter. He was breathing. Kaye was still breathing, I reminded myself, trying to steady myself.
No one would take my youngest brother from me. I had already lost one brother long ago.
“You don’t understand.” They weren’t the words I’d expected to hear.
Arthur’s eyes were almost pleading as he looked down at me from across the sanctum. “Our enemies are encroaching. We are losing this war. We needed a sacrifice. A powerful one to charge the sword. This... This was the best way to do it. The child would have been better.” Again his eyes darted to the infant, as if he could not believe she truly existed. Had survived. “But the prophecy...”
He paused as if he wasn’t sure how much I knew.
“Oh, I know,” I said bitterly. “I know all about the prophecy, Arthur. I don’t care. Babies. They were babies.” I was weeping now. “How could you? You are truly cursed by the Three. You will never be known for anything else for as long as you draw breath. You are no longer a Pendragon. You are onlyThe theChildslayer.”
The word the midwife had used earlier that night spilled from my lips like a brand. I watched Arthur flinch as the title hit him full on.
Even the soldiers who stood behind him in the hall looked vastly uncomfortable. I wondered if they had participated in Arthur’s crime. If so, they deserved to die just as much as their king did.
For a moment, Arthur’s face was blank. Then he straightened his back and turned to his men. “We must resume the ritual. Cavan is gone, but we will fetch another priest. You.” He pointed to one of the soldiers. “Go and find one. We’ll use the boy. He looks half dead anyhow. It’s not too late. We can still...”
“No,” I shouted, my voice rattling the stones.
“No,” Draven growled, stepping in front of me to shield Kaye and I.
He raised his blade. In his arms, Medra began to cry. A high-pitched, plaintive wail filled the room.
There was a clamor in the hall outside. I heard the sound of clashing swords.
My brother stood indecisively in the doorway, a single guard remaining to stand guard at his back.
Then with a strangled shout, the last, lone soldier was pulled out of the room.
Arthur stepped backwards into the sanctum, turning to face the door with his hand on the hilt of his own weapon.
“Enough.” A woman’s voice. Clear and commanding.
Guinevere entered the room. She was garbed in pale blue robes. Perched on her shoulder was a golden owl, its eyes deep wells of wisdom.
There was a serenity to Guinevere’s presence that did not falter even in the face of my brother's senseless fury.
Arthur looked at her and, to my surprise, took a step back. Then another.
Guinevere moved past him without a glance and came to stand near me, looking down at Kaye.
“Evil things have been done in this place in the name of a god,” she said quietly.
Crouching down beside me, she touched Kaye's brow. On her shoulder, Tuva let out a soft hoot.
“He will live,” Guinevere murmured, straightening back up.
The strange thing was, I believed her. She was no healer. Not that I knew of. But I believed her without a shadow of doubt.
“But he will not awaken.” Her soft, doe-like, brown eyes met mine.
