Guinevere (22 page)

One day, soon after the news about the hostages had arrived, Sidra climbed to Guinevere’s room. Guinevere’s cold was almost gone now and she was dressed and reading a new codex by lamplight. She smiled when Sidra called from the top step.

“You never need to ask to enter, Foster-mother. Please come and sit beside me. Look, this copy of the gospels has come all the way from Antioch. Each page is illuminated. Look here, they have even used gold leaf in the pictures. The priest lent it to me to read before he takes it to the copyist.”

“Thank you dear, I haven’t time now to look at it. I want to ask a favor of you. I’m not sure you will like it but I want you to hear me through. It doesn’t seem fair to ask it of you with your brothers and all, but I really don’t know what else to do with the poor child.” She paused and glanced at Guinevere. Was she listening? Yes, her attention was caught. Sidra continued.

“You have heard that Arthur is sending some of his hostages to live with us?”

Guinevere nodded. A faint expression of distaste crossed her face.

“Yes, I know many people think we shouldn’t house them at all. But, remember, these aren’t common soldiers but the children of their kings. They have no more to do with battles and killing than you do. I wish Arthur would bring them himself but this message says that he can’t possibly come here before spring and he wants them safely here at once. So he’s sending them with Merlin. Thank the Lord there are only two of them.”

She stopped again, apparently lost in her planning. Guinevere nudged her.

“What is it you want from me?” she asked.

“It’s this way, my dear. I just don’t know where to put them. One, I think, I’ll put on the wall side of Gawain. He’ll be out of the way there, but the other—I just don’t know. It seems that these bloody Saxons think no more of their own flesh but to send their daughters to the enemy.”

“Daughters!” Guinevere was finally surprised. “Do you mean one of them is a girl?”

“About your age, I’m told, maybe a little younger. Now do you think I could put her down there in the hall with all those people hating her so and me not always there to be sure that no one gets any ideas about her?”

“Sidra, you want me to take a heathen Saxon girl into my private room with me, don’t you?”

“Now, Guinevere, did I say that? I know how you feel about them and who has more right? But I confess I did hope you would do it. You being so much better bred than most of the girls here, I thought you might be able to at least refrain from being actively cruel to the child. Think of how frightened she must be, sent away from her family for no crime of her own. But no, I see you are against it and I do understand. A pagan and a Saxon is certainly not fit to share a room with someone of your aristocratic background. I’ll find a spot for her somewhere, in with the horses or the goats perhaps.”

Guinevere knew when she was beaten. That, at least was something she had gained from her stay at Cador.

“Sidra, wait. She may stay with me. But you must bring in another bed. In my room, yes. But I’ll not share my blanket with her.”

“Of course not, dear. No one ever suggested such a thing. It’s very fine and noble of you to do this much. I’m sure it will set a good example.”

She gave Guinevere a motherly kiss and went back to her work with a satisfied smile.

When the day came that they were to arrive, the entire household assembled to meet them. Something made each person want to look their best, to let these heathens know what sort of people they were dealing with, so boots were scraped and fine robes shaken out and smoothed; hair was combed and some determined sorts even washed their faces and hands. They gathered in the main hall opposite the entry to await the Saxon foe.

Soon horses could be heard climbing the stone pathway. They stopped and someone could be heard calling that he would see to the animals and be in later. The voice was muffled but Guinevere thought it was one she knew. Then there was a long silence before the knocking came. Three heavy blows fell upon the great oaken door as if it were being pounded by a hammer. Sidra signaled the porter to let them in.

There was an audible intake of breath as everyone waited eagerly for the door to swing open.

Standing on the threshold was Merlin. Behind him on either side stood a young man and a girl. Guinevere gasped at them in astonishment and was glad to hear that she wasn’t the only one.

They were both of a height and as tall as Merlin. They were dressed in leather and rough wool and the girl wore a cape that seemed to be made of feathers. They stood proudly erect and eyed their captors with disdain. But what had caused everyone to gape in astonishment was not their expression, but their trappings. Both of them were covered in gold. Each wore a filigree headband, armbands, necklaces, bracelets of gold. They wore long golden earrings and their clothes were fastened by golden brooches. Even their shoes were decorated in gold leaf. It was more wealth than most of those present had ever seen. An angry murmur rustled through the hall. Sidra quelled it with a movement of her arm as she stepped forward.

“Welcome, Merlin, and welcome to your friends. May you each enjoy the hospitality of our home for as long as you desire. We have awaited your coming with pleasure and hope you will find our simple life acceptable.”

Merlin bowed and entered without speaking. The other two followed him closely.

“I am honored to be again your guest, worthy Sidra, wife of Cador. I have brought with me two wayfarers who wish to bide with you a time. Their names are Ecgfrith and Alswytha, son and daughter to Aelle, king of the East Saxons.” Ecgfrith stared straight before him, hardly blinking, but Alswytha bowed slightly at the mention of her name.

“We have prepared resting places for you all which I hope will be suited to your needs and rank,” Sidra replied in the same formal tone. “I will send a servant to put your belongings in their proper places. Merlin, perhaps you and Ecgfrith would like to come with me so that I may explain to you the customs of our house.”

A thought struck her and she dropped the ritual address to ask Merlin, “Do they speak our language?”

“Only a few words, but they will learn. I’m sure that with so many wellborn youths as you have here for fostering someone could be found who is capable of teaching his own language.” Merlin raised his voice a little to be sure that those wellborn youths knew who he meant.

For a moment, Sidra was disconcerted. “Merlin, you didn’t tell me that we couldn’t make them understand us. How will we ever . . . ?

“You will,” Merlin smiled. He had known Sidra for many years. “That is why I brought them here.”

Sidra grimaced but continued. “Guinevere, will you please take Alswytha to your room and show her where she is to sleep? Then bring her back here for the evening meal.”

Guinevere glided forward. She was dressed in the last of her Egyptian silks and wore her hair unbound and fastened only with the jade pins given her by Geraldus’ invisible alto. She had the pleasure of watching Ecgfrith’s proud face widen in astonishment and admiration as she approached.

She first bowed to Merlin. “I hope you are well, Cousin,” she said a little stiffly. She had never gotten over her discomfort near him.

He returned the bow. “I am quite well, thank you. I see that you have recovered from your recent illness. And your family? I have not seen them for some time.”

“They were in excellent health, when I last heard from them, and enjoying a mild winter.”

With mutual relief they ended the meaningless exchange that manners demanded. She hated the way Merlin glared at her as if she had committed an unpardonable sin. She turned almost gladly to Alswytha. The proud expression on the girl’s face didn’t falter, but Guinevere thought her eyes showed fear. She tried to smile reassuringly.

“Come with me and I will show you where you will live,” she started. Then she remembered that the girl spoke only Saxon. She put her hand upon Alswytha’s shoulder and pushed gently. “You, come,” she said. “Up. Sleeping room.”

The girl stared at her with no sign of comprehension. Guinevere glanced helplessly at Merlin, who spoke to his charge rapidly. Alswytha nodded and allowed Guinevere to take her up the stairs.

Sidra sighed in relief. “Well, at least you can understand them. Where did you learn Saxon?”

“That is of no importance,” he warned her. “Someone had to be able to converse with them or no treaty could have been arranged. If you tell me what you want them to do and where they are to stay, I will explain it to them before I must leave.”

“You might have told me that at once,” she replied tartly. “Come along then. Bring Egfreeth or whatever he is called. All right, everyone. You can meet our guests later. Go back to your work and we will meet at dinner.”

She waved them away but most of the people didn’t go far. They broke into smaller groups whispering among themselves, and occasionally glancing covertly at the young man sitting stiffly between Sidra and Merlin.

“He doesn’t even know that he’s a prisoner,” Cheldric sneered. “He thinks he’s still a prince. A Saxon prince! We’ll get those bracelets off him soon enough and teach him what he really is.”

“I don’t think that would be wise, Cheldric,” Gawain said quietly. “You might not like to have to answer to Arthur for any harm that came to him. Or have you given up wanting to join his new corps?”

Cheldric subsided at this threat, but he and Mauron spent the rest of the afternoon in deep conversation in their corner of the hall.

Guinevere led Alswytha to her room, holding her hand and speaking to her much as she did to her three-year-old niece.

“Now, here we go, up the stairs and then a turn and here we are. This is your bed.” She pointed to it. “Bed,” she repeated. She patted the pillow. “You sleep here.” She pretended to snore.

Alswytha stared at her in complete astonishment, then, to Guinevere’s indignation, she began laughing. Guinevere glared at her angrily. Alswytha laughed harder.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped at last. “I can’t help it. You look so ridiculous like that!”

“You can understand me!” Guinevere was too surprised to remain angry. “Why didn’t you tell me so instead of letting me make a fool of myself?”

“I thought it would be safer if no one knew they could talk with me. I am rather afraid of some of those people down there. I think they would hurt me if they could. But you were so funny! Please don’t let anyone know.”

She looked so imploring and so truly frightened that Guinevere gave in.

“I won’t say anything, if you behave well. But how did you learn it? You have a very good accent. Does your brother speak Latin, too?”

“No, Ecgfrith thinks everyone should learn our tongue, even the other tribes living near us, the Angles and the Jutes. Even other Saxon dialects are hard for him to understand. I learned from a slave at my father’s hall. He was a captured soldier of your people. He was ill a long time from his wounds and then could do only very easy work in the hall. I was lonely then, with so many people gone to the fighting. When he learned enough to understand me, I asked him about his home. He didn’t want to speak of that, so he taught me his language instead. You are angry because we have a slave of your people. I see it. Please, it is the way of things. We could have killed him or left him to die from his wounds. I tried to help him.”

“He was a soldier?” Guinevere felt a sudden chill. “What was his name?”

“He never told me his name in his own speech. We called him Ceorl. It is not a proper name, but he didn’t mind. I am not sure if I can describe him for you. His face was horribly scarred on the right side and one eye had been blinded in his last battle. There were burns, too, and even his mouth was twisted from them. His good eye was brown, very dark. I had never seen such dark eyes before. His hair was black, black as cloudy midnight. He stooped when he walked, so I am not sure if he was tall or not.”

“The poor man!” Guinevere gave her a look of disgust. “Why didn’t you let him go? Couldn’t you have done something to help?”

“I gave him what special treatment I could and I smiled at him when we passed. I spent many long winters and springs talking with him. That was all I could do. Do you think my father would have praised me for letting him escape, even if he were strong enough to get away? At least I didn’t despise him the way you do me.”

Guinevere rose from the bed with dignity. “Since you understand my speech so well, I will not waste time. Be sure you remember all I say. You are to share this room with my maid, Risa, and myself. This is your bed. I expect nothing from you. You do not need to serve me in any way and I would rather not have to speak to you. Your people killed my brothers and are trying to conquer my country. I have no wish to love or understand you. You are a heathen and an enemy. Is that clear?”

The hopeful look in Alswytha’s eyes died, to be replaced by a cold pride as great as Guinevere’s own. “I understand perfectly. My brothers and cousins too have died. But I will tell you that I am not an invader. I was born on this island on the land given my grandfather by your king Vortigern. My home is as dear to me as yours is to you. I feel nothing but contempt for your army if it is not strong enough to protect itself. You are not what I expected from what Ceorl told me and I wish to have nothing to do with you either.”

She sat down fiercely on her bed. Guinevere crossed the room and sat on hers. They each gazed resolutely at opposite walls. They might have stayed that way forever if they hadn’t heard someone coming up the stairs.

“My love is like the su-uh-mer dawn,” a voice caroled. “No, no! You don’t come in until the next line. Do you want to learn this song or not?”

Both girls smiled and rushed for the entrance just as Geraldus entered.

“Guinevere!” he grinned as he hugged her. “It’s been too long since I have seen you! You have almost grown up. And quite nicely too, I must say. How are you and Wytha doing? I was very glad to know that she was being sent here where you could get to know her and look after her.”

He stopped when he saw their faces. “Oh, I see. You haven’t started very well, I gather. Well, you really haven’t had much time to get to know each other yet. It is odd. I somehow thought you would like each other.”