16. Mother and Daughter
"You honestly thought that I was a traitor?"
"Can you blame me?" demanded Ygraine grimly, arching her eyebrow questioningly at Lornán, "You sneak off in the direction of the rebellion, with no guard and under the cover of darkness; what conclusions would you have drawn?"
"And yet you still chose to follow me rather than sound the alarm?" queried Lornán incredulously.
"Foolhardy, I know," replied the Queen, "but I had hoped that I could talk sense into you before it was too late."
The Duchess shook her head in wonder, "It seems I would make a terrible spy in any eventuality, if I cannot even spot the Queen of Albion hot on my tail."
Ygraine laughed dryly at this, contemplating Lornán's pensive features as they rode, side by side, through the dim forest, "There are not many that would have as much reason for treachery as you my dear," she said softly, watching her companion's eyes widen in surprise.
"Whatever our past you Majesty, I would never betray Uther in that way," she replied urgently, her brilliant green eyes staring piercingly at the Queen, "It is true, none have been more wronged by him than me… but his is a good King, faithful and loyal to his people and that is what counts above all else."
With a deep breath, the Queen nodded slowly, a brief smile passing across her features, the first in days, "I believe you Lornán and I thank you… there are many women that would not be so level headed."
"I could say the same of you in this situation," replied the Duchess pointedly. Ygraine made no reply and the ride continued in silence, the muffled sound of hooves on hard soil the only thing to break the monotony.
As the two women immerged from between a group of trees, the woodland opened up to reveal the now familiar little jetty and the sparkling lake that stood between them and the Isle of the Blessed.
"You are sure we will not be missed?" asked Lornán anxiously, stepping gingerly down into the waiting boat that bobbed gently on the surface of the lake.
"The King is holding emergency council meetings all this week to try and resolve the new threat in the west, we shall not be missed," assured the Queen as she too settled down in the boat, "Besides… it is a little late to worry about that, now that we are at our destination."
Nodding her head apprehensively, the Duchess looked briefly at the bow of the boat, her eyes glowing an intense golden colour as she muttered the words, "Forstearan," and the small craft lurched forward across the waters as if of its own accord.
The short journey to traverse the breadth of the lake was undertaken in almost perpetual silence, both women lost in their own thoughts and preoccupations as they approached the island that rose up out of the water, the early morning sun bathing its shores in dazzling sunlight.
The grand monastery cast an impressive outline on the horizon, its walls ancient and weathered; a stoic monument to the ancient arts, nestled among the lush greenery of the well-tended grounds.
As the vessel neared a little landing stage, a woman walked out toward them dressed in the customary garb of the High order of Priestesses that inhabited the island, a simple long-line shift beneath a mustard yellow hooded cloak that flowed out behind her as she walked.
"You return so soon Duchess, truly this is a delight," called the older woman in greeting, her eyes widening in surprise to see the identity of her companion, "Your Majesty!" she cried incredulously, "This truly is an honour!" With a smooth, graceful step the woman sank down into a low bow, "It seems my powers of foresight are failing me."
"Ingrid, how do you fare?" asked Lornán with a smile, embracing the older woman warmly before turning to help the Queen disembark from the boat.
"Little has changed from your last visit not two days hence," replied Ingrid lightly, glancing with an enquiring eye between the two nobles before her.
"Forgive our intrusion," said the Duchess apologetically, "but the trip was… necessary. May I introduce Queen Ygraine of Camelot?"
"You do not intrude my dear Lornán," rejoined the Priestess soothingly, bowing her head once more at Ygraine and addressing her directly; "A pleasure to make your acquaintance milady."
"Ingrid is the High Priestess here your Majesty," informed Lornán quickly.
Ygraine nodded her head in recognition as the three of them began to walk toward the monastery walls, "Your little island seems quite the well guarded secret, Ingrid," she commented as they passed beneath the entrance gates.
"The Isle of the Blessed is secluded your Majesty, I grant you, but many are aware of our presence, we have no secrets here." Turning her head she stepped away towards the main building, "If you will excuse me – I will fetch Nimueh for you."
"Who is Nimueh?" asked the Queen once they were alone once more.
"She is the under-priestess who has been charged with the care of my daughter," Lornán replied quietly, her eyes refusing to rise and meet Ygraine's penetrative gaze.
The Queen lapsed quickly into silence while they waited for Nimueh, a troubled frown sinking across her brow once more.
"Lornán!" came a cry of delight from behind as a younger looking woman rushed down the entry steps in a whirl of excitement. As her eyes fell upon the Queen her step faltered slightly and Ygraine was not certain but seemed to sense a feeling of animosity from her as she came to join them.
"Your majesty," greeted Nimueh smoothly, not missing a beat and dropping nimbly into a deep prostration before Ygraine, before rising to her feet and embracing Lornán fiercely, "You have come to see her again so soon?"
Lornán nodded her head by way of response, "Would you take us to her?"
"Of course!" cried the priestess in delight, "she is in the gardens, I will take you directly."
As reserved as Ygraine felt about Lornán's unwilling confession as to the existence of a daughter (one that Uther presumed dead no less), nothing prepared her for the emotions she would feel on seeing the child in the flesh. There, sitting quietly by herself among the scented flowers, sat a beautiful little girl with golden hair and brilliant blue eyes and immediately, the Queen's heart went out to the child.
"There she is Ygraine… there's my child," said Lornán simply as Nimueh ran down the grassy slope toward the young girl, leaving them alone at the garden's edge. "You said that you must see for yourself that my story is true… well there is your proof."
"She has blond hair," said Ygraine in a hushed whisper, unable to tear her eyes from the child before her.
"Yes," nodded the Duchess, "I inherited my looks from my Father, Dubhán after all does mean 'dark one'. My Mother was fair-haired just as Morgause is."
"Morgause?" repeated Ygraine, hearing the name for the first time.
The Duchess smiled softly, her eyes melting in fond memory as she looked at last at the Queen, "She has my mother's blond hair… why not her name also."
"How often have you seen her?"
"Since the day I gave her up… Woden's day last was the first time," she said sadly, "Nimueh sent correspondence to Tintagel when she could, telling me of her progress… but it is no comparison to holding her in my arms."
"And Gorlois does not know of her existence?" asked Ygraine suddenly as she watched Nimueh lift up the little girl and make her way back over toward them.
Lornán shook her head, no. "There were those that had threatened her life, no one could know about her, not Gorlois, not Uther… especially not Uther," hissed the Duchess fiercely, "I could not take that chance you must understand that," she implored, she eyes searching Ygraine's desperately, "You know how the courts would see her existence?"
"As a challenge to the throne for any future heir Uther has," replied the Queen automatically, "For any future child I have…" She added as the weight of Lornán's predicament and the situation she now found herself in weighed heavily upon her.
"I must implore you again to please, please agree to keep my secret and maintain my child's security," begged the Duchess beseechingly. "You would not answer before you saw her for yourself, so I entreat you now to please… answer my request… my child's life depends upon it."
Ygraine stood silently, her troubled blue eyes watching the carefree nature of Lornán's child sadly as she approached, "There is no doubt from her mannerisms and the look she has about her eyes and mouth that she is Uther's child and as such… an heir of Camelot," she began slowly, "I came here today to confirm what I knew in my heart to be true… she is who you say she is. As Uther's Queen I am duty bound to inform him of her whereabouts-"
"No!" cried Lornán in horror, clutching at the Queen's arm in distress.
"However…" Ygraine continued, taking Lornán's hand in her own, "on the other hand her position would be most fragile if returned to court, especially if Uther and I have a male heir."
"She would be murdered," replied the Duchess, her voice trembling as she spoke, her eyes screwed up tightly against the devastating images that flashed before her.
"Sadly… I would agree," confirmed the Queen, grasping her arm in support and turning Lornán's face to meet her own, "Do not fear," she said at last, "I will not betray you… nor her."
An enormous feeling of relief welled up inside Lornán, coupled with the immediate release of months of pent up worry and emotion, all gushing out in one tangled overwhelming mass. Clutching at Ygraine, Lornán drew her close, thanking her repeatedly in her ear and sobbing uncontrollably into her neck.
Ygraine held on to the younger woman tightly, stroking her hair soothingly until she had composed herself again, "Go," she said at last with a small smile, "Spend some time with you daughter, I shall wait for you by the water."
Lornán wiped the tears quickly from her eyes as the Queen turned and made her way back to the boat. Taking a deep, calming breath she hurried over to where Nimueh stood, her daughter now playing once more on the grass.
"Morgause!" called Nimueh in a sing-song voice, waving her over to join them. Obediently, the child rose and scampered toward them, running quickly into Nimueh's arms before shyly holding out a small flower to Lornán. A look of un-surpassing joy flashed across her face and tears welled in her eyes once again as she thanked the girl and tucked the small flower behind her ear.
"Do you remember this lady?" asked the young priestess, gently pushing the child's hair back from her eyes as she spoke.
Morgause nodded sagely, her sombre blue-grey eyes staring unwaveringly at the Duchess, "Mother," she breathed quietly.
"And do you know what that means?" prompted Nimueh with a gleam in her eye.
The small girl shook her head slowly, her eyes wide in wonder.
"It means she loves you very much," she said emphatically, "why don't you run and find us some more flowers?"
Morgause beamed happily at her guardian and wriggled out of her grasp, running as fast as she could toward the beds of flowers that lined the gardens.
"Why did you bring her?" demanded Nimueh as soon as Morgause was out of earshot.
"It could not be helped, she discovered me returning from this place two days hence," replied Lornán, unable to draw her eyes away from the vision of her child chasing butterflies through the flower beds… such simple things she had so longed to see for these past lonely months.
"And you think that you can trust this woman?" exclaimed the priestess sternly, "She who stole the King from you in the first place!"
"Her betrothal to Uther was not her own devising," she replied wearily.
"That is not what you said in your correspondence…"
"I said many things in Cornwall that were not true to my heart," snapped Lornán angrily, "I was near mad with the loss of my child… much has changed since then."
"Including your faculties of reason it would seem," retorted Nimueh, "Mark my words… Ygraine may seem to be your friend today but she will betray you at some point, you can be sure of it…"