21 A Life's Work
Guinivere, Queen of Camelot, adorned with all the jewels the Pendragon treasury could provide, stood at her open window and looked at town and castle spread out below, like a picture in the bright and glowing sunlight.
The crowd down there was merry, joyful, and expectant of great things to come.
The Queen watched the hustle and buzzle of the town's people in the street, and of their high and mighty guests. So many unknown faces there. So many familiar faces absent.
"Yes, Merlin" the woman who had once been Gwen, a blacksmith's daughter, thought. "Look at us. Arthur is King, I am his Queen and this is the New Camelot.Bigger, stronger, more power- and more beautiful than it has ever been before."
Suddenly she smirked, as if he who wasn't there had heatedly but foolishly objected.
"You do not like it, Merlin?Is it not your life's dream fulfilled? Rather your worst nightmare! Your mother thought the same. Hunith left Albion for good, she said she couldn't breathe here.
Who is to blame her? Once there was no place for a Dragonlord's Lady in Camelot. Today, there's no room for a sorcerer's mother.
Collateral damage of our brave new times. Alined is dead, so is Bayard. Their heirs are clever men, they sail with the tide, and in Albion all tides run up to Camelot."
"A hundred towers." When foreigners came and gawked at the wonders around them, peasants boasted, and rich men did alike. "A hundred towers with golden roofs, our castle. Our Camelot."
"Marvel, Merlin, marvel at the Pendragon power, unrivalled, unchallenged – the power of the Once and Future King and his Knights of the Round Table."
Guinivere grabbed the windowsill, with both hands, and her knuckles stood out white. "It's only one small flaw in it all, Merlin. This same King's Queen is thinking of how lovely it must be, to end one's life on the cobblestones.No worries, no duties, no self-reproach, just a quick fall, a brief pain. Funny, once I hated Arthur because he longed for that."
"It is time, My Lady" the young woman behind her said.
Like all the other Courtiers, the girl was flushed with excitement, her pretty cheeks rosy; her breath coming fast and upset. In her best dress, as lovely as a spring morning, the young gentlewoman was beyond the moon with the honour to carry Her Majesty's train today, as one of six girls, chosen from the highest families of Albion. "His Eminence is waiting in the cathedral." She giggled nervously and the fine golden crucifix on her creamy throat trembled.
Everybody knew Bishop Severinus' impatience. His Eminence was an imposing figure these days, and so very full of his own importance that nobody would have recognized the awkward, slouching monk from long ago.
The Queen turned away from the window and her usual regal mask slipped back in place.
Dispassionate, uncaring, Guinivere sized herself up in the precious mirror in front of her.
It was true. She still outshone each and every Lady of her Court, young girl or grown up woman, without much effort.
The Dark Rose of Camelot. The Lady with the fiery eyes. With hair of ebony, with eyes of amber, with skin of honey, who could be fairer?
At every feast, at every state occasion, the bards' and minstrels' praises of her beauty knew no bound.
"One eulogy for every bow lute in the land" Gwaine had once joked. Before he had left them, and his wife and child, never to return.
Each and every time her husband looked at her Guinivere saw how much the King of Camelot adored her.
Unlucky him, that he should do so.
Unlucky her, that it still warmed her heart so much.
Her Golden Prince.
Arthur who had once talked of eloping with her, buying a farm, living simple. "I think I'll take Merlin, for the hard work." That lazy smile, the sky blue eyes…..the blood had rushed to a place between her legs back then. The way it still did, every time she saw him. The way it would always do.
If they had escaped Camelot back then, how would their life have been then? The three of them, and nothing else, no Kings, no Queens, no Old or New Religions.
No friends who got lost one way or the other.
"Gaius is dead, Merlin" the Queen said in her mind. "He and Alice, in the same month. A simple flue, but he had aged so much. I guess she could not live without him."
Out of the blue Guinivere remembered Severinus' unendurable, droning voice. Like the unnerving sound of an ugly insect in her bedchambers. "Woman, be thou modest, and humble before God, that no sin of vanity may come to you. For in all your female frailty the Lord has exalted you to High Office, but uneasy rests the head that wears the ….."
And so on, and so on, and so on.
"His Eminence will have to wait" the Queen decided. "Tell the King that I'm to meet with him in the vaults, at our daughter's grave."
"But Your Majesty, you've already said your prayers, and …."
"Christ's blood, are you deaf, girl?"
The girl pressed her handkerchief to her eye and rushed out.
Guinivere shrugged dismissively.
Had she been as childish at that age? Cried because of a harsh word, a fierce look? No, surely not. Between stoking fires at daybreak and hemming fine Ladies' dresses until midnight, she had had no time for such nonsense.
With an impatient move, the Queen threw her prayer book and little bag on her dressing table and swept from her room, her brocade skirts and silken veils dancing around her.
Outside her brother was startled by her sudden appearance. He stumbled, and steadied himself by grabbing the nearest tapestry. He almost ripped it down.
"Kindly spare my furnishings, Elyan" Guinivere sneered. "Why aren't you at the cathedral?"
"I'm the one to accompany you" he said angrily. "Or have you forgotten? Where are you going?"
"I am to meet with my husband, on matters of state. It doesn't concern you."
"Matters of state? Now? Gwen, the only matter of state is waiting in the cathedral, thoroughly pissed by now I shouldn't wonder. Hurry up, sister."
"Sir Knight, you are relieved of your duties for today. Get out of my way!"
"Hooo, hold your horses, my girl, I am your brother…."
"I am your Queen, and if have to remind you again, you will have reason to regret it!"
Elyan bowed deeply, the mockery of a respectful kowtow, and stepped aside. "Women!" he thought resignedly. Devil might understand them, he sure didn't. Nor did Leon, to his certain knowledge, and he had been married all these years, and had children and all.
Guinivere strode to the vaults so quickly and decidedly that nobody dared to stop her.
When Arthur finally joined her, she had been waiting for some time. But she wasn't bored. The thought of the pompous Severinus swaying from the shock of abuse, waiting uselessly in front of the gold covered altar, was very entertaining.
"What is it, my love?" Arthur asked, taking her shoulders from behind and kissing her neck. "Still the jitters, after all these years?"
"11 years, to be exact" she retorted. "And five pregnancies. Look at our little darlings, my husband, aren't they adorable?"
Against his will, Arthur's gaze flew to the five small white stone coffins behind the bigger one of his firstborn daughter. As always, the sight made him shudder.
"You should not have come here, Guinivere" he muttered, squeezing her shoulders. "Not today."
"Why not? His Eminence will not look for us here. Margaly had not been christened and Gaius and Alice were never properly married. Severinus was happy my still born little monsters were buried here, side by side with all the other abominable left-overs from an evil past!"
"They weren't monsters, they were just dead. It wasn't your fault, Guinivere."
"They were monsters. Our little boy, the last one in the row, don't you remember him? He had the head of an ox, with your eyes in it!"
"Gwen, you carried him for only six months, how could he have looked like an ordinary baby? And nobody ever saw his eyes….."
"Gaius did. He told me."
"He did no such thing. He did what he could to help us. Without magic…."
"Ha" Guinivere laughed out "Without magic? Do you think I do not hear them whisper behind my back? I'm a witch, dear husband, I bewitched my own children, so that they would die, isn't that how the story goes? So that Galahad, the changeling, my lover's bastard, could take the Crown of Camelot!"
Arthur's throat was tight when he answered. "Nobody says that. Lancelot has been at Court many times, with his wife when she lived, and without her now she's gone. There was no breath of scandal."
"Not onstage, no, you made sure of that. You're a good politician, Arthur. Morgana would be proud. Clever, smart and with a first class instinct, as long as it doesn't come to me."
Arthur let go of her and stepped back, clearly irritated. "You are my wife, my Queen, together we've raised Camelot from the ashes. Our villages and towns prosper, our merchants trade in goods from Alexandria, our people are content, our neighbours seek our advice. We've been at peace for a decade, there is not a noble family in the land who does not think it an honour to have a son among the Knights of Camelot and a daughter among your Ladies-in-Waiting. Is that something to be sneezed at?"
"We've got our Golden Age after all, didn't we. We sacrificed your sister and brother-in-law so that the Gods would propitiate us."
Arthur swallowed painfully and tried, with all his strength, to ignore the cruel accusation that cut him like a knife. A quick glance over her shoulder, and she saw the pain in his face, just as he tried to strike a lighter note. "Not a very seemly thought for a Christian Queen."
"Our Christianity is a paper-moon, it distorts the light that shines through it and hides the greedy flame from sight."
"That applies to me" Arthur readily admitted. "My prayers in Church are lip-service. I speak to my Gods in the forest if I want to. But you, my love…" Cautiously, as if she was to bite him, he embraced her again "you found your peace in a Christian abbey once. You gave our son to the monks to be educated as a Christian King. Are you telling me that this is all a lie?"
Gwen rubbed her brow and eyes with one hand, trembling a bit. "Oh I don't know" she said. "Perhaps I should have stayed in that convent and left you free to do as you pleased."
"It pleased me to have you back. You've made me idiotically happy, every day of my life since then. Together we've achieved so much….
"You cannot take the High King's Crown" Guinivere interrupted him icily, as she turned to face him. She stood erect once again, her skin greyish, but her gaze was steady.
"We have a bunch of Kings and Barons waiting who dare to differ, my love" Arthur chuckled. It sounded somewhat hollow, and he coughed lightly before he went on "it took us both a lifetime to come that far. I've been looking forward to walking down that isle with you again, seeing you crowned by my side. I beg you Guinivere. Do not abandon me now."
"I'm telling you, you cannot take the High King's Crown."
"I've been offered the office by the other Kings and Queens, by all the nobles of the realm, and by the Church. How could I refuse it? Shall I tell them my wife has had a bad dream, so would you please take your luggage and piss off? We'd have a war at our hands faster than we could say we're sorry."
"You do not have an heir. I've not given you one."
"Galahad…."
"Is a dimwit and a cripple!"
"His hearing has improved over the years" Arthur said with increasing anxiety "he learned to talk, to read and write ..…"
"Can he wield a sword, can he fight a battle? My son is a fake, as much as his mother!"
"Gwen, sweetheart, please….."
"You have a handmaiden for a wife and a cripple for a son, you must tell them, Arthur, you cannot take that Crown as long as you're married to me."
"But I am married to you, twice over, in the woods by Morgause, and in Church by the Bishop, would you please stop your hysterics, woman, NOW!"
Guinivere stepped away from him, but not too far. She laid her left hand on Margaly's coffin. "As God is my witness, Arthur Pendragon, I'm not your wife before God. I married you under false pretences, I never loved you. I will scream it out to anyone, I'm an adulteress and my son is a bastard."
"Why are you doing this to me, Gwen? You promised me you'd never leave me again, to stay by my side in good days or bad, you gave me your word, over and over again. Why now, my love? Why?"
Her lips were so pale they were hardly visible and underneath her dark honey skin, all colour had gone from her face. "You've earned this Crown, Arthur. It is your birth-right. Your mother died for it. All the people Uther murdered in his mad revenge died for it. Your sister, and Merlin. He above all. They gave their lives so that you might reunite Albion. They scream at me at night, Arthur. They ask me again and again, what good have I brought to you?"
"My peace of mind when I thought I'd lost it forever. Is that so little? Is my love and affection so unimportant that you can spit on it?"
She raised her chin as she replied "Galahad will be twelve years old come august. You cannot longer postpone his training as a squire. By rights, he should have his accolade long before he is twenty. Our game of hide-and-seek is over, husband."
"I could easily adopt an heir from one of the noble families. I've figured it all out, my love, no need to worry…."
"STOP treating me as a child, Arthur! The rulers of Albion bow their heads to you, but their teeth are gritted. You're in your thirties, you're healthy and strong, you can father and raise another son, but without one, no power in this universe will prevent civil war! You adopt the son of one family and make enemies of all the others."
Gwen knew that she had won when Arthur kept silent, and briefly, the pain was so intense, it almost knocked her off her feet. So far he had been adamant. From here on he would be only quarrelsome. Everybody in Camelot knew the difference.
"I tell you what" she said, fighting to stay calm and detached. "I've discussed it all with Malcolm Branguard …"
The gruesome shock gave Arthur back his voice. "You did what?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Arthur, Malcolm is smart, and he's got eyes. I did not surprise him."
"You told my chancellor and first advisor that our son is a bastard?"
"No" Gwen said, lightly swaying on her feet. Cold sweat ran down her spine under all her fineries, and she was nauseous from sheer exhaustion. "I've told him all about Galahad's health and that I will not have another child. Malcolm was very understanding. A few months after today's coronation, I will say that I crave a life in a nunnery, for the sake of my dead children's immortal souls. A marriage to God dissolves our wedding vows. A year and a day later, you can remarry. It is as easy as that, and nobody will be the wiser."
"The two of you made up this pretty plan behind my back and never even thought of consulting me?"
"You would have refused Arthur, I knew that."
"What if I refuse now? What if I say I will not have it, you sentencing yourself to a life of incarceration, me and some hapless woman with a functioning womb to a mock marriage?"
"As I said, My Lord and Liege. Refuse me and I'll scream your disgrace from all the roof tops in Albion. The nobles who've made you their High King will take care of your marriage from there, have no doubt. They lose their faces when you lose yours."
"What about Galahad?"
"Go along with my plan and he will be your son under every law of the land. He's happy in his abbey; he's a little scholar already. Grant him the privilege you and Morgana never had, a life of his own choosing."
"Perhaps you would never see him again."
"I know that."
Arthur shook his head in awe. "I'll ask you again. Why, Guinivere? No politics this time, no ghosts. Why are you doing this?"
"I've brought Camelot little good. I do not wish to bring her harm. Doubtlessly I'm not the first Queen who knows these words, and doubtlessly there will be others after me who think their hands are bloodied enough!"
"Nobody accuses you of anything. I've never heard anyone calling you a witch, but I've heard countless people calling you a saint. People love you."
"The people, yes. The Court does not."
"The Court loves no man. They love themselves too much."
"Your father's words. Uther knew the men his power depended on. I know them, too. You were their Prince, you are their King, a true Pendragon. I had to prove my worth. I'm no Pendragon, so I had to produce one. I had to give you a healthy child. But I did not."
"I still think you're making too much of it…."
"No, you do not. If you did, you had laughed it all away. You'd taken me into your arms and called me a worrier, and a Cassandra. You only argue with me when you know I'm right."
"You know me too well, My Lady."
"How could I not? I am your wife, until I leave you."
"Don't" he said and when he looked into her eyes, she knew she was seeing into his heart. "Stay with me, Guinivere."
She wanted to avoid his gaze, had to avoid it at any costs, even if it meant to hurt them both further. She hugged him as if she never would let go. "I will be with you" she said. "Tonight, and all the nights which are left to us. Until I go."
"A fool's paradise, again" he retorted with bitterness, his head on hers.
"But still a paradise. You will not spoil it for me, will you? I beg you Arthur, do not spoil this for me."
As always, he could not refuse her. He nodded, once, but it was enough.
"Let's go" she said, retreating from him. He did not stop her. "We have a coronation waiting. Your Majesty King Arthur Pendragon is to become High King of Albion."
"And Guinivere his Queen!"
"For a while!"
"Yes. For a while!"
This night, after the coronation, the feast, the endless speeches, the toasts, the false smiles and the real ones, he did not come to her.
Nor did he come as time went by.
Guinivere was grateful to him.
It was his way of saying that he had understood.