Chapter Five
If the opening festivities in the arena had been spectacular then the "Tournament Dinner" in that evening for the competitors as well as the invited Lords & Ladies was simply breathtaking. No expense had been spared in this grand show of wealth and power. If Morgana had to prove her competence as a strong ruler then she would do it in style! Bright crimson, lustrous drapes provided luxurious frames to the tall windows that lined the room, magicians performed tricks for the amusement of the Ladies and fire-eaters swallowed giant flaming torches dazzled of the assembled Knights while Lords feigned a casual disinterest in such entertainments. Jesters and jugglers that the Queen had summoned from far off lands moved easily through the crowds. It truly was a sight to be held with the ladies radiant in their magnificent and the warriors in well-polished armour followed by squires that carried colourful banners but the Queen stood out above all others in the Great Hall.
Morgana was accustomed to all eyes turning to her when she came into a room, blessed by beauty and a bearing of unmistakeable grace but on this night, even with the huge flock of nobility that had flooded through the vast space a hush descended upon her entrance. She was not sure if it was the dress she had chosen that left such a bewitching effect on her 'audience' or if it was herself but she revelled in the adoration and wonder that she felt coming towards her in thick waves.
The gown Morgana had chosen was made of magic, woven by the faeries that lived by the realm of Avalon. The delicate tones shimmered from turquoise to purple and accents of silver shone through the cloth though no precious metal of man could create such a sparkle. On the narrow body that showed the young woman's athletic form to the best advantage and on the swathes of fine cloth that dropped from her arms were emblazoned swirling designs in the Celtic style. The magical symbols glowed like the embers of a fire that danced and swayed as Her Majesty walked. Surely it was only the light that was catching strands of thread? The dress had an otherworldly quality that seemed to surround the Queen of its own accord, satisfied to be worn by such a figure which only gave the Lady of the Lake an added aura of mystery...and allure.
Despite the attention she had drawn, Morgana was acutely aware of one particular pair of eyes boring intensely into her back. She allowed herself a sly grin at the thought of the servant that was trailing sedately behind her. She was not yet entirely comfortable with the idea of welcoming another into her bed but being the object of desire was a thing to be relished.
She stood at the front of the large platform at the head of the hall, her blue-green eyes scanning the faces that waited avidly for the word of the Queen then in a voice that somehow resounded throughout the cavernous expanse she spoke. What was it that gave this young woman so much power? It was a derisive thought that crossed through the mind of one young man that lurked beside his former master as the two stood in the shadows by the colossal doors at the other end of the reception. Even Arthur seemed mesmerised by the words being spoken;
My Lords and Ladies, esteemed Priests and Priestesses and Knights of the land. You are welcome to Camelot, my home. The reign of Uther Pendragon made enemies of you all but now I ask you here as friends. No longer will anyone be persecuted for their accent or their religion. Tyranny will have no place in my kingdom. I know I have yet to prove my worth as a leader you but for now I invite each and every one of you to enjoy the hospitality that the new Camelot has to offer." Now with the sombre part of her welcoming speech over she broke into a disarming smile, "here's to a good tournament and cementing alliances. Let the feast begin!".
The Queen led the way into the adjoining chamber where seemingly endless tables stretched out before them, groaning under the weight of bountiful trenchers loaded with fish and spit-roasted meats. The mixture of scent from the large pitchers of wine and the heady aroma of herbs and spices was nothing short of intoxicating. As the ornate oak chair was pulled back for her Morgana saluted her guests with a raise of her polished silver goblet. The congregated guests each raised their own in a toast to the new monarch of Camelot and the truly wise Lady of Avalon. As soon as the Queen sat the musicians in the Gallery began their lively tunes, nearly drowned out entirely by the cacophony of voices below.
Meanwhile two figures had not joined the gaggle of Lords & Ladies for the great banquet. Spellbound, Arthur had begun to follow the crowd before Merlin had shaken the former prince out of his dazed stupor, pulling him firmly away from the influence of Camelot's captivating new ruler. In the cold night air Arthur bent as he coughed, feeling as though he had been woken from some deep sleep. Coming to his senses he managed a spluttering;
"What...was that?"
Merlin shook his head;
"I dunno, you seemed...well...I dunno"
"Well thank you for clearing that up for me Merlin, whatever would I do without you" came the flat response.
"Well...everyone else seemed the same. I mean, did you see that dress? It has to be some kind of magic...m-mind control, that's what it is!"
"Merlin, I do not succumb to magic. It was...well, womanly wiles?" Arthur, clicked his fingers triumphantly, pointing at his sidekick, "it must have been".
"Then why was I not affected?" the young warlock said almost to himself as he ran through his thoughts out-loud but Arthur had heard him;
"Well let's face it Merlin, you wouldn't know what to do with her!" The former prince's reply was typical and Merlin had learned to shrug them off as he became better at giving as good as he got but he was too disturbed to argue tonight. Just this once, the wicked thought came.
The banquet had carried on into the early hours of the morning and Morgana was exhausted as she trailed up the stone steps that would eventually bring her to her private quarters. She had been trying her best all evening to play the perfect hostess, willing a connection to those who lived under her and those who would provide useful alliances. Easing herself into bed it suddenly occurred to her that if she was exhausted how must her serving maid Aelwyd be working so hard to make sure all ran smoothly for her mistress all night? Morgana was not a monster. She summoned the young woman through and in an instant she appeared. The Queen noted the dark circles under the other girl's eyes and the tight lines around her mouth. She flushed as she became suddenly aware of her own state of undress, albeit under the nest of fur and sheets and flushed even deeper as further thoughts came to her. She never stammered in public addresses so why should she be so flustered when dealing with a simple maid?
"Aelwyd, why do you not take tomorrow off? I am in the ring tomorrow and will manage perfectly well with my squire."
Morgana had never seen Aelwyd appear so suddenly shy and humbled. She decided it did not suit the young maiden at all.
"Miss, you are very kind. I shall take you up on your offer if that is acceptable." and she gave a slight bob for good measure.
Now the Queen was suddenly the shy one;
"I would not have offered otherwise." she managed a slight smile, looking away before continuing, "you should sleep here tonight, there is a servant's annex just through there." Now that the glamour of the evening had been stripped away she suddenly felt naked and under the gaze of this strong character, very, very exposed.
"Begging your pardon My Lady but I should not indulge on your hospitality any longer."
The dark-haired witch was taken-aback and surprised to find she felt a disappointment tugging at her chest. In a hoarse voice she gave her assent for the girl to leave;
"I only thought...it would save you going home at this late hour." but in a forced jollity she continued, not willing to let the other girl see the hurt she felt, "I suppose if you want to make the most of your day off tomorrow then that is probably best."
Aelwyd gave another small bob and traipsed wearily from the room, totally unaware that the young Queen who, all night, had seemed so powerful was now curling herself up into a tight ball, willing the tears to stop tumbling down her face, her cries forcibly hushed as she whispered over and over to herself;
"why Morgause? Why did you do this to me? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?"
Little did she know that in the dark corner of the chamber a shadow also wept for the living who would never hear.
Shall I continue?