AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I know that now.” He looked at Guinevere with a great weariness in his eyes. “I must go out to them. They will be expecting me.”
She nodded. “You know what awaits.”
“Yes.” He looked at Medra. Her eyes were very blue. Most babies’ eyes were blue, I remembered. “Kings will fall. There is no escaping it, is there?”
“No,” Guinevere said, her voice still gentle.
He nodded. “It will be a relief, in some ways.”
I watched as he walked out into the hall.
“I don’t understand,” I said hollowly. I looked at Guinevere. “Please. I still don’t understand.”
Guinevere’s eyes were full of sorrow. “We will follow him now. Leave Kaye here, Morgan. He will be all right until we return. Someone will remain with him.”
She turned to the door.
A man and woman immediately moved towards me, carefully taking Kaye from my arms.
Slowly, I walked towards the doorway.
Draven was waiting for me.
“Do you understand? Do you know what this is all about?”
He hesitated, then touched my cheek. “I believe so, love. I believe so.”
We followed Guinevere down the hall. Ahead of her Arthur walked, his back straight and proud.
For once in his life, he looked truly kingly.
As we reached the entrance to the temple, he stepped out alone.
Guinevere stopped, hanging back in the shadows of the temple’s overhang, the group of rebels spreading around her. Lancelet took up a position on her left. Draven and I came to stand by her right.
Across the bridge, on the other side of the river, an army waited.
Warriors wearing the blue and silver armor of Tintagel sat on battle horses side by side soldiers from Lyonesse dressed in gold and purple. The banners of both kingdoms were held aloft by riders on armored mounts, long strips of silk streaming in the cool night breeze.
At the base of the bridge, the armies’ leaders sat astride their mounts. There were three of them.
I saw a tall man with gray and black hair dressed in the ornate armor of a king. His cape was a vivid blue edged with silver.
Beside him sat a young man and a much older woman. Both had the same honey-toned brown skin as Guinevere and the same dark, curling hair. They wore the colors of Lyonesse.
It was the elder of the trio who, with a gesture of her reins, stepped forward, capturing the attention of all who were gathered on both sides of the river.
Raising her voice, the older woman spoke clearly. “I am Lady Marjolijn of the Royal House of Lyonesse, sister to the late King Leodegrance. By my side sits Prince Taryn, my nephew, now heir to the throne of Lyonesse. In the company of King Mark of Tintagel, we come to Camelot not as enemies but as bearers of justice and reparation.”
The words rang true. Still, I knew there must have been deaths on both sides tonight. The bitterness of kingdom battling kingdom had made enemies of those who had once been allies. The peace would not be restored in one night. Especially when these armies had now invaded our lands just as Arthur had done to theirs.
“Nearly one year ago, without rhyme or reason, King Arthur Pendragon of Pendrath descended upon our lands in a tempest of destruction and chaos,” Lady Marjolijn continued. “He razed our villages, brought ruin to our people, and desecrated our sacred temples in a campaign of battle that knew no honor or chivalry.”
The warriors on the river bank sat silently beneath the moonlight, still and statuesque.
“Tintagel and Lyonesse, lands sovereign in their own right, were defended. We fought for our people and our ways of life. Now we stand united, here in the heart of your capital, at the foot of your temple, to demand that the blood debt be paid and that justice be done.”
Lady Marjolijn's steely gaze swept out over all those assembled, her voice unwavering. “We call for the death of King Arthur Pendragon. We demand he answer for his crimes. With his death, may the scales of reparation begin to be balanced and the cries of the innocent finally begin to be heard.”
