Uh… Baudemic (Melegean's father) isn't going to really be helpful, but he's got a sense of honor. And he is not king or chief, Melegean is. Saxons weren't very strict with the king for life thing. Whoever was the strongest leader and warrior took control when he could. Melegean is ambitious and ruthless so he managed to push his father off the throne. Yeah so…
Shpadana Zizais- I'm really glad that you like the story, and I like your honesty. But in my defense, a slower pace was my intention. After all, King Arthur is the greatest move ever and I couldn't hope to make my story as exciting. But I'm sorry that you think my writing has gone down. Do you actually think the writing or the plot is the sucky part? I'm not trying to make it anticlimactic, I'm just preparing for the sequel. Which will be slightly different, but it will be a continuation of Arthur's reign.
SnoDragon- Um…In a lot of the legends Guinevere has various sons but none of them live longer than her or Arthur. And same goes for Arthur. But Arthur also has a close relative who…Well you'll see. Anyways I decided to make this relative his son. Whew!
MonDieu666- I'm blushing! Really!
Lilstrummrgrl576- Thanks! I have to keep a list of characters ahahha!
Blue Eyes At Night- That was a beautiful poem hehehe.
Ok Sorry its not my best chap, but I'm trying to keep yall from dying from a lack of update.
A week had passed and we had heard no news of Arthur. We had not left the damned prison the whole time. Our clothes were soiled and our complexions pallid. Guinevere seemed calm on the surface, but there was some agonized panic half hidden in her eyes. I suppose this hut was not as macabre as the dungeon Marius Honorius had kept her captive in, but I had no doubt that it brought back memories that she wanted to forget.
"This is infected." Ealasaid said as she examined Andrivete's arm. Andrivete had cut her arm on a splintering piece of wood two days before and the wound had turned a foul looking purple. Yseult looked at the girl and began pacing back and forth angrily.
"She needs help." She fumed. "And that bastard needs to keep us somewhere else."
"Arthur will come soon." Guinevere said rubbing her stomach. I was worried about the baby. The days were cold and the nights were freezing. The damp earth that we slept on was frosted in the mornings, and all we had were several tattered blankets. Not the best conditions for a pregnant woman. Ealasaid looked around at our dirt covered faces and stood up with a determined face. She stalked over to the heavy wooden door and slammed her fist against it. There was a grumble and our handsome jailer opened the door. The young man looked at the flaxen haired Ealasaid nervously.
"What do you need?" He asked awkwardly in our tongue.
"A lot of things." She said sharply. "But right now we need more methods of keeping warm at night other than these rags you call blankets, and I need the materials to treat the girl's arm. Clean water and cloth. Comfrey if you can get it."
He looked doubtful. He peered around Ealasaid and towards Andrivete. Her eyes were closed and her cheeks were flaming with fever even in the darkness. I was surprised to see his eyes soften at the sight of the weakened young woman. He nodded and shut the door. Half an hour passed before he returned with several blankets of better condition. He set them down and then walked over to where Ealasaid knelt by Andrivete. An older Saxon man stood guard at the door while the young Saxon assisted us. He silently handed the healer woad a bowl of clean water and the other items she had asked for. She motioned towards his dagger.
"Knife." She said impatiently. He looked from Ealasaid to Andrivete apprehensively, unsure of giving a blade to a captive. Andrivete gave a small moan and tossed her head. That did it. He quickly handed the dagger to Ealasaid who wiped it clean and punctured the wound. I looked away as it oozed. She cleaned it with the water and made a satisfied sound as the flesh bled, showing that it was still healthy. She compressed the herbs he had brought to it and tied it with a piece of cloth.
"I have seen that infection before. She will be fine." The Saxon said as he took back his weapon.
"This place isn't helping her condition." The woad said somberly. He looked uncomfortable for a moment and stood up quickly. When the door was shut, I looked to Guinevere to see if she had noticed what I had.
"He likes her." I said quietly. She nodded and looked to door contemplatively. I wondered if his liking for Andrivete would be useful at some point.
"Your hair is foul." Guinevere said plainly after a few moments. I touched my brown locks, now nearly black with grease and dirt. It was matted to my head in strings.
"You aren't very pretty either." I yawned as I leaned my head against the shabby wall.
"What's taking them so long?" Yseult asked. Guinevere coughed and shook her head. Her dark locks swayed in vile clumps instead of feathery ropes. I hated being dirty. I loathed it.
"It has only been a week. The Briton Meleagan sent to Arthur probably only arrived yesterday. And then it will take days of talking before anything can be decided on."
I mulled over this. Arthur was not a man to pay ransom, though I knew he would if it came down to it. His first and most powerful instinct would be to raise an army. I hoped he decided to raise an army. Plans began formulating in my mind. When? From where? How many? Looking around at our dismal conditions, I could only pray it was soon. But how difficult would it be to raise an army when the Saxons were not our only enemies? I hoped the brothers Caradoc and Turquine were murdered in their sleep. The bastards had betrayed their own people to the Saxons.
Another week passed. It had been a month since we had been taken captive near Caerleon. Guinevere's stomach had grown since then, and I realized that it would not be long before the child was born. The baby should be born at the end of winter or the beginning of spring. The hardest part of the winter was passing. Snow no longer fell as heavily and some of it melted each day.
"Isolde, the baby is kicking again." Guinevere said motioning me over. This sort of thing had become one of my only sources of amusement. I put my hand on the huge stomach of the queen and waited. I felt a tiny foot push against my palm after a few moments. I smiled and jerked my hand away. It was so strange…
"Does it hurt?" I asked my friend tentatively. It seemed unlikely I would ever experience this odd pregnancy and motherhood part of life, but I was still curious. It appeared to me that it would be painful to have another person inside of you kicking around all your innards and ribs.
"It can be painful. Mostly it just feels odd." Guinevere said. Her prominent jaw shifted to form a wry smile. "I won't be sad when this is over."
"Ha. You just wait for the birthing pains." Ealasaid laughed. "Battle is nothing compared to it."
I was suddenly unsure of whether I even wanted a baby… Perhaps I was better off being childless. Guinevere squared her jaw as if bracing herself for it. I had no doubt that the warrior queen would handle childbirth with a certain amount of dignity.
"I cannot wait to be a mother." Andrivete said nursing her healing arm. Ealasaid's ministrations had banished the infection in the first few days. Now all that was left was for the skin to heal up.
"Well, go find a man." I said scrubbing at my face.
"It's hard to find a good man in these times." Ealasaid said absentmindedly picking at the hem of her tunic. I snorted. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Yseult look at me sharply, but I was beyond caring. If both of us got out of there alive, Tristan could pick whoever the bloody hell he wanted. I think I loved him enough to let him go. Nevertheless, I hoped upon hope that he loved me in return. I felt so cheated. I had been gone from him for months, only to be carried off days after my return. I missed him with a fierce ache. It wasn't only his face or his company. I had not been with a man for so long it seemed. And even then, the last man had been March, not the man I wanted to make my husband. I missed those damned braids and his perpetual frown and all the odd things about him. I missed every scar I had discovered and the way he twitched when I touched his neck. I missed the silence that we had between us. The silence that wasn't lonely in the least bit. It was a silence that was thick with things that didn't have to be said and a friendship that didn't need to be flaunted. I missed…I missed…I missed Tristan. I just wanted to see his face. I hoped that if he loved me, that he didn't feel terrible that I was gone. I hoped that if he didn't love me, he wasn't disgusted or upset by my words of love. And that if he did not feel the same love that I felt for him, that he would still want to be my companion.
If I wasn't careful, my thoughts could easily drive me mad. I had to push every thought of it all away. I could not change anything at that moment. I needed to breath. I took a long, soothing drink of air and held it. When I let it go, my mind seemed clearer.
"I'm hungry." I said after a few moments.
"I could eat a horse." Yseult said in agreement as she stared longingly into nothing, dreaming of food. We had been given stale bread and some pasty sort of porridge that morning, but nothing since then. Looking up into the gapping straw roof, I could see that it was well into the evening. I cursed the Saxons inwardly. I liked my figure to be full. A month of captivity had diminished my curves slightly, and I was fairly annoyed. Not to mention the rest of me was well, disgusting. On the bright side of things, at least no Saxon would find any of us to be tempting.
"Andrivete, go tell the guard that we are hungry." Guinevere said giving me a look. Andrivete looked at her curiously but obeyed her kinswoman. She shuffled over to the door and knocked tentatively. The guard opened the door partially and jumped a little when he saw Andrivete. I saw a blush spread to her cheeks in a charming manner. This was good. Very good.
"We…" Andrivete trailed shyly. "We are very hungry."
"Oh! Yes." He said awkwardly. He closed the door sharply and we heard him speak to another man outside. The door opened again. "Sorry. You will have food soon."
Andrivete gave him a shy, thankful smile, and he shut the door again. I smiled thoughtfully and closed my eyes. I wondered what Mordred was doing. I missed the boy who I had begun to look upon as partially my own. I hoped he was not worrying to much. Lucan and Gilly would keep him company. I loved the quiet, clever nature that Mordred demonstrated, but I wanted him to be happy more. He was too serious for a boy.
Minutes later, the door was opened again and our food was doled out. Mm. Stale bread and cold soup. Delicious.
"I'm going to be sick if I eat this." Yseult said as she set the food down.
"Eat it." I said dipping the rock hard bread into the watery soup. "Or you will grow weak."
She looked as if she would refuse for a moment, but then she followed my example. I was becoming more and more aware of how dangerous this situation was becoming. We were all getting a little frantic, though we did our best to hide it. That created a tense atmosphere that made us more likely to do foolish things. Even more paramount was Guinevere's growing belly. The conditions were very bad for her health, but that wasn't what worried me. The Saxon had promised to return us to Arthur, but I did not know if that generosity went for the child. How easy would it be to kill or hold hostage the high king's child? A voice in the back of my mind spoke up. Mordred. Arthur had an heir already whether he knew it or not. I was still determined to save my friend's infant.
My eyes snapped open. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the tar like darkness. Voices had woken me up I realized. I lifted my head ever so slightly and looked to where the sounds were coming from. In the darkness I made out a pale cloud of hair positioned near the door. Andrivete. Her voice was low as she spoke towards the shabby wall and door. I wasn't surprised to hear a deeper voice say something back to her. I wanted to laugh. It was mad. Andrivete and our jailer were infatuated with each other. Gods above.
The next day Andrivete seemed a bit more chipper.
"Did you find out his name?" I asked quietly, not bothering to look at her. She blushed deeply.
"Cai." She said in a small voice. I scratched my neck and smirked idly at Guinevere. This cramped space was driving us mad.
The weeks were painfully slow. Another month came and went, and Guinevere's stomach grew even more. I guessed that the child would come before another moon's passing. Andrivete's romance with the Saxon guard was blossoming in the strange circumstances. Cai could not afford to be seen speaking to her during the day, so he had begun taking the night shift as often as he could. She stayed awake nearly all night talking softly to him in the dark. Cai, who seemed to be sympathetic to our plight, slipped us loaves of bread whenever he could, but he went no farther than that. He was a Saxon, and I knew better than to beg for a blade.
I was pushing my torso upwards from the ground using my feet and hands, and exercise I had taken to keep my body ready for battle, when the door flung open. It was Meleagan, and there was a look on his face that I did not trust.
Ok a battle is coming! Time to get excited! The end is near! Review
