Chapter 5

Sunlight pierced the high window, sending a blinding beam down into the low room, slowly illuminating the motionless figure on the bed. A warm caress rose up the figure, from her toned legs to her head, hitting her golden curls, spread untamed across the dirty pillow, creating a sunlit halo around her sleeping form. It took time, however, before her doe eyes fluttered open and she sat up, raising herself with slender arms, a slight smile resting on her lips at the summer morning.

It had been just over a year since she'd taken the position as physician to Cenred. And, surprisingly, Morgause felt content. Nothing compared to how she once felt on the Isle of the Blessed, where she felt so high nothing could ever hurt her. For that had ended with the loss of Taegan, the closest she had ever had to a real friend. But she was content with Cenred's court. He understood her gifts, and Morgause was permitted to study magic in her free time, a rare notion when sorcerers were being hunted in each corner of the Five Kingdoms. She'd studied history as well, in a desperate attempt to become a more valued court member to Cenred. For, however close she was, she was not close enough to the frivolous King. She needed to become someone he relied on, yet someone he feared. Someone who could fascinate him, yet challenge him. And, most of all, someone he would never hand over to Uther Pendragon in exchange for a few, cheap pieces of land.

'Morgause!'

Morgause's lip curled slightly as she heard the knock on the rotting door to her physician's quarters. The accompanying voice got her out of bed quickly as she ran from her chambers to her treatment room and stood behind the door, her head against the rough wood.

'I thought I would grant you the pleasure of a visit, Morgause,' The rough voice murmured through the thin cracks in the door.

The blonde smiled, twirling one of her curls around her fingers gently. 'And how can you be so sure this would please me, Cenred?'

A low chuckle. 'I know how to please a woman, Morgause.' Silence. 'Will we be continuing this conversation through a door all morning?'

He heard her laugh lightly from behind the door, his eyes darkened with heated desire. Morgause turned, placing her back against the door, smirking as she listened to Cenred's rapid breathing through the door.

'You woke me, Cenred, I'm not sure letting you in would be quite appropriate.' She teased, her voice a whisper through the door. Beneath her frame, she could almost feel Cenred's pounding heartbeat through the wood as he pushed further to the door.

'Morgause, I do not care what state you are, or are not, in, I'm coming in.' He burst through the door, staggering slightly as her counterweight had gone. His eyes searched manically, the black orbs darting greedily, before finding her sat at her physician's desk, head bent over a scroll of parchment, fully clothed.

On hearing his heavy footsteps approach, she looked up from beneath her golden blaze of curls and laughed at his crestfallen expression. 'My dear Cenred, I learnt a long time ago that, while living in a castle occupied only by men, sleeping undressed is not an option open to me.'

Cenred let a dark smile creep across his face as he sat down opposite her, legs spread inelegantly, looking out from beneath the greasy curtain of hair surrounding his face. He let his eyes wander down from her face, taking in her overgrown, dirty white shirt that disallowed him from making out any feature above her legs, which were clad in black trousers ending just below the knee. Still, he could imagine what was beneath that shirt, a pastime that often distracted him...

'Cenred, are you even listening?'

He snapped back, looking up into her face, eyebrows raised mockingly, and he nodded disinterestedly.

'I asked why you are here so early, it is barely morning.'

'I'm inviting you to a feast, tonight, Morgause, as surprising as that may be.' He noted her quizzical expression as she stood, fetching a jug and two glasses from a shelf on the far wall. Unconsciously, he felt himself follow her as she walked, his voice low. 'It is as your King desires, Morgause.'

She smirked wickedly as she brought the jug back, leaning in to pour the crimson liquid into Cenred's glass. 'And is that really what you desire, Cenred?'

He looked up, slicking back his greasy hair, a half smile dancing on his face, dark with stubble. 'You know all I want is from you. What use is a sorceress if she can't grant your desires, after all?'

'That is no answer.'

He chuckled at her abrupt answer, sipping the wine in his glass slowly. 'Very well. I desire Camelot, Morgause, and all the spoils that victory there would bring.'

'I can perform magic, not miracles, Cenred.' She laughed, Cenred's mismatched army lingering in her mind, as contrasting to the brute Knights of Camelot who had destroyed her home before. She felt her laughter die quickly.

'What about you, Morgause? What is it that you truly want?'

A dozen images racing through her mind. She thought of Taegan, dying on the stone floor, the Isle of the Blessed consumed by roaring flames. Lady Vivian passing her the bracelet, that she now felt herself clutch instinctively, Queen Ygraine's lingering fragrance as she held her close as a child. But strongest of all, she saw the ebony haired girl from the crystals, whose peridot eyes bored into her very soul, and whose very life seemed to rest in Morgause's ability to, one day, snatch her from Uther's tyrannical grasp.

'I wish to learn to fight. To become a swordswoman.' Morgause looked up from her lap, her chestnut orbs wide in demented determination. 'I wish to become a master of the blade, to rival even the Knights of Camelot. Even the King of Camelot himself.'

'And my desire would take a miracle?' Cenred shook his head in amusement, laughing loudly to himself. 'No-one will teach a lowly woman to fight, Morgause. Everyone knows it is not worth the effort. Knights of Camelot, indeed!'

And with that, he downed the remainder of his scarlet liquor, and left the room, continuing to chuckle at Morgause's sudden wish, leaving the blonde alone at her table, with a burning hatred in her narrowed eyes.

'And, of course, this feast is in honour of a great event.'

Morgause looked up from her place at Cenred's left side, the room spinning slightly through her blurred sight. The third cup of wine had been a mistake. Yet, she still reached for a fourth.

She had been avoiding Cenred since he walked out on her that morning. His refusal to help her, as well as his mocking laughter, still caused her blood to boil as she thought about them. But she hadn't seen him either and, in fact, she was surprised she still had a seat at the feast, her first feast, since she'd never been included before. And, even more surprising, she had Cenred's left hand side, though she would rather sit on his right, the typical seat for his advisor, the left typically being held by a woman. Still, she was closer than ever.

Rapidly blinking, the blonde attempted to regain her focus as she looked at the standing King as he addressed the hall full of his warriors and closest advisors.

'As many of you will have, no doubt, noticed, this is one of the greatest feasts I've held,' Cenred announced, motioning to the piles of rich food and tankards of wine that filled the long, rough tables. 'But it's all for a good reason.'

'Has Uther tragically been murdered?'

Cenred chuckled at the drunken shouting of one of his men, who sat grinning foolishly as the room erupted into laughter at his comment.

'Unfortunately not,' Cenred replied, a wicked glint illuminating his dark eyes. 'No, on this summer evening, we instead celebrate a day of birth. Specifically, we celebrate the birth date of our physician, to whom most of you owe, at least, your limbs, if not your lives. Stand up, Morgause.' He motioned for her to stand, which she did shakily, aware of the hall of eyes fixed on her. Cenred picked up his goblet, holding it high. 'To Morgause.'

Around her, she felt the room vibrate with the thundering response as a hundred men held up their cups. 'To Morgause.'

'That was impressive, Cenred.' Morgause sat on a black velvet divan in Cenred's chambers later that evening, her legs curled under her, as she continued to sip her goblet of blood red wine. With her free hand, she stroked the velvet beneath her, as though trying to reassure herself it was still there in her drunken state. 'Why would you go through so much effort for me?'

Cenred smiled charmingly. 'Why wouldn't I? As I said, most of my men owe you their very lives. I owe you my army. Besides, I should like to think we have grown closer over this last year, close enough to recognise events like this.'

'Not close enough,' Morgause felt herself say, unsure of why. Still, she relished the satisfied look that passed through Cenred's eyes as she spoke.

'I have something for you, Morgause.'

Cenred turned and snapped his fingers, instantly summoning a darkly dressed servant, carrying a small, black, wooden chest in his arms. He placed it gently at Morgause's side, before leaving, as quick as if a mere wisp of smoke. Morgause frowned as she leant down, her golden ringlets falling over her face as she fumbled with the chest clasp with fingers that no longer felt like hers. Eventually she threw the lid back, to reveal red satin within. She pulled it out, using her best attempts at delicacy, and felt her eyes widen as she held up the ruby gown once given to her by Taegan on the Isle of the Blessed. The dress that she had burnt until it was charcoal black and had been ripped until it was unrecognisable.

'How did you...?' She felt herself slur over her words, stammer over her articulation. The dress was changed, of course. The floaty sleeves had become tight, made of lace that entwined like spiders' webs to create an air of mystery, with threads of gold that glittered as they caught the fire's glow. But it only made the dress more beautiful, more perfect.

Cenred couldn't help smiling at Morgause's widened orbs, glossy with either drink or emotion. He didn't care which. 'I couldn't let you live forever in those.' He motioned to the shirt and trousers she had kept on for the feast. 'They are hardly flattering enough for position as both court physician and sorceress.'

She looked up, tearing her eyes from the material in her shaking hands. 'How did you...?'

'Found it in your wardrobe.'

'You searched my wardrobe?' She stood up, tossing the gown aside, a livid frown across her face.

'Sit down, Morgause, you should know you are only more beautiful when you are angry.' He smirked, noting her raised eyebrow at his backhanded compliment. 'Take up your drink again. Of course, I had to search your wardrobe, you could have been a spy for all I knew.'

'For all Kings should be threatened by the mighty King Cenred.' Morgause returned Cenred's smirk, causing him to scowl bitterly. 'But court sorceress? You make me sound like a performer.'

Cenred circled his goblet once more, his black eyes glittering as the night sky through the window. 'Well maybe, Morgause, you could challenge whoever dares call you a mere performer.'

The blonde's smirk faded at this, her stare piercing. 'Challenge?'

'I rethought your request this morning, Morgause, and I admit I was wrong.' Cenred shrugged, brushing a stray piece of hair from his eyes. 'Having a woman at court who is skilled with a sword can only be an advantage, really. Think of it as another birthday present. A little treat.'

Morgause let a sweet smile pass across her lips, the smile of a woman in victory. When she spoke, her voice was laced with honey. 'Well, Cenred, you have certainly given me a night to remember.' She downed the remainder of blood red liquid in her golden goblet and stood up, swaying slightly, but with a seductive smile on her wine stained lips. 'Now, let me give you a night you will always remember.'

With a wave of her hand, she dismissed the men from the door and, taking the King's hand in hers, she led him to the four poster bed behind her as the chambers were locked for the night.

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