Armor.
Chapter one.
The trumpets sounded, as we entered the grand hall. Uther, I thought with utter distaste at the sight of the man pompously dressed in a black rope and his ever-present crown.
"I present to you; Queen Catherina le Fay of Kalka and Lady Morgana le Fay of Kalka." The man with the grand flag announced. I curtsied along with Mother and attempted to keep the abhorrence off my features.
"Oh, the pleasure your visit brings to my heart. And to my eyes, such beauties to behold!"
If Uther ever was to learn about my talents, my death would bring pleasure to his so-called heart.
"Don't you agree, Arthur?" his voice and eyes turned hard, as Crown Prince of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon, his son, in no hurry took his seat next to the King. Arthur smirked arrogantly, showing obvious disdain.
"Indeed. Thousands of young knights would gladly face their death in order to keep such lovely women safe." A grimace that surely was intended to resemble a smile was put on view.
"The pleasure is ours completely, to be in the presence of such a mighty, impartial and significant King and Prince." Mother charmed. The repulsive and fear came back full-force, a reality Mother wanted to force upon me for the rest of my life, however long that would be. Mother had come to Camelot seeking an alliance with their king, Uther Pendragon, the name felt dirty even in my mind, slaughterer of all that is magical.
"I once again wish to express my deepest condolences for the loss of a splendid King, husband and father."
"Thank you, my Lord." Mother answered and curtsied for effect. A quick, sharp glance and I mimicked the graceful curtsy, though I felt no grief caused by the man the kingdom of Kalka had referred to as King and ruler. He had been no Father to me. As a young child I had once mustered up the courage to ask Mother, why I did not bear any similarity to her or Harald. She had slapped me, shrieking about how I dared to question her, that she had done what was necessary, that she had born the King a child as it was anticipated of her, that she could not be blamed that I had not meet the King's or hers expectations. I fled in tears and never dared asking again.
"It is such a terrible thing to have one's life suddenly and cruelly altered, the most difficult burden to suddenly find oneself the sole ruler of Kalka and a mother. To shoulder all that responsibility by oneself. My dear Morgana" she smiled sadly and smoothed my hair in a seemingly appreciatively manner "is a comfort to me, but I fear it will not be enough. Enemies from the North are pressing in from all sides."
I said nothing as I refused to partake or help; Mother wished for an alliance, not I.
Uther sat still as a ghastly statue with an outwardly-looking sympathetic look on his face. Surely, he was speculating on how to alter and handle our uncertain situation into benefiting him.
Mother caught her breath rather loudly, giving the appearance of trying not to sob. Oh, Mother, always so dramatic. Uther –ever the gentleman – nodded to a guard who attained a handkerchief and stepped forward to pass it along to Mother. Dapping her eyes with the handkerchief and with a sure tone of voice she expressed her distress:
"Forgive me, my Lord. I fear our trials have taken their toll."
"Your sufferings are beyond imagining, my lady, and I do hope you will inform me if Camelot can provide any sort of help or consolation."
"Thank you, my Lord. A bed for the night would be most welcome. Our journey has been long and tiresome." Mother replied. The grimace of nuisance that spread on Arthur's face did not go unnoticed by me. The arrogant fool even had the nerve to smirk at me when he noticed my staring, as he obviously figured I was admiring his appearance.
"Then consider yourselves as our esteemed guests." He smiled slightly as if he was particularly smart and waved at a guard with a grand arm gesture. "The guard will present to you the rooms I had prepared. And I shall have the cooks prepare some light dinner for us."
"Thank you, my Lord, thank you." Mother gushed as were she a mere servant, not her royal highness of Kalka, and curtsied deeply, as did I, before we followed the guard out and down a long corridor. The air was cold and clammy, most likely due to the stone floor and stone walls. I hoped not we would be dining in a similar temperature. Though I would prefer we would not be dining at all; I was tired from the dull journey and having to constantly be on guard around the two Pendragons would surely not gain me any energy. I said nothing as we walked, nor did Mother or the guard. Thankfully, Mother's and my room were not placed side by side – she was not even aware where my room was placed, as the guard led us to her room first. Breathing a sigh of relief as I entered my empty room, I fully realized that I would not have to endure Mother and her ideas but instead have a moment of peace.
The room was rather exquisite. Stone floor, beige walls, black chandeliers, gold decorations, a grand bed, a fireplace, a mirror, a table and chairs. A balcony was revealed as I opened the glass door next to the bed. I stepped outside and enjoyed the slight breeze that instantly greeted me. The sky was quickly darkening but still I had a clear, beautiful view of the yard and a few houses located few metres from the castle walls. Goosebumps brook out on my skin and I retreated back into the room. I figured I would merely rest on the bed for a minute. However, I soon fell asleep.
It was so ever hot. Not just warm but absolutely, excruciating hot. Tears sprang to my eyes and I blinked, trying to make out anything but the red, orange and yellow colours. And the smoke. I could not breathe because of it. It differed from light gray to the darkest black but choked me no matter the nuance. Survival instinct told me to run, to get away from the heat but it seemed I could not control my motionless limbs. My name was spoken – perhaps even yelled? – repeatedly. I had the strangest feeling that I had to remember something, someone, but darkness clouded my memory. Then – how could I not have felt it before? – pain. A gut-wrenching, sharp, piercing pain that stole away my already diluted breath. Could death be the reason for my sufferings? Was I in hell for being with magic? I wanted to scream but no sound would leave my mouth. Had I been gagged? And then …
Light. I panted heavily, greedily forcing the air down my lungs. Someone was knocking on the door! As I could not be seen as such a mess, I quickly got up from the bed and took place in front of a window.
"Come in." I managed to declare in a sure voice and attempted to look interested in whatever was going on outside in the courtyard.
"I am to escort you to the dining room, lady Morgana." A male voice replied. Possibly the guard from before.
"I see. Give me a minute and I shall be ready."
I heard the door close again and I drew a shaky breath. My dream had certainly not been a product of my imagination! Never would I be able to imagine such a horrible thing. Was I to be burnt as a witch? Would Uther discover me? Tears welled up in my eyes. No! I could not think of these thoughts now; I was expected. And I needed to patch up my look; I smoothed my dress and hair, wiped my eyes and joined the guard outside. Either I managed to look presentable or he simply was too much of a gentleman to question my gloomy appearance and mood.
At the sight of Uther Pendragon, my heart shot up in my throat and I most seriously considered turning around and running the entire way home to Kalka. The guard right behind me prevented that option, though. Arthur was present as well, but Mother was not in sight.
"Lady Morgana, please, do sit." Uther smiled. I said nothing but joined them at the long table.
"Lady Catherina should be here any minute." He continued. I nodded noncommittally and stubbornly avoided eye contact; instead I starred intensely at the mural at the back wall and proudly kept my chin up high. How could I look into the eyes of the man who was to be held responsible for my sufferings to come? But I was not going down without a fight.
"Lady Catherina." Uther announced, notifying me of her presence. All of us rose from our seats and waited for Mother to join us at the table. The minute we sat down again, servants quickly streamed into the room, carrying jugs and aquamaniles, baskets with bread, jars, bowls, ollas, vessels and such. His attempt to appear very wealthy by lavishing us with food, could easily be browsed. Phony saphead. I welcomed the anger that started to curse through my veins – it certainly was better than weeping as I couldn't very well give an explanation. I ate little, made eye contact with no one, made absolutely no attempt at conversation and only shortly answered any questions directed at me. Mother talked, charmed, laughed, complimented and – dare I say it? – flirted her way through the entire meal. Repulsive was one word that came to mind. Manipulative was another. As all of us parted for the night, Mother and Uther arranged for a private meeting after the breakfast of tomorrow; to discuss important business.