Chapter 13 On the way to a betrothal
Before leaving Silchester, Bayard called Eluned to see him.
"Is my work unsatisfactory, sire?" Eluned asked, when Bayard told her she could leave. "You may go free, with my thanks," Bayard told her. But Eluned shook her head.
"I agreed, because I thought I would find my brother at Camelot" Eluned told Bayard. "He was going there to serve Prince Arthur. I asked, but no-one has heard his name. So I wish to remain in your court, sire, for Mercia is at the crossroads of all Albion, all news passes through your kingdom, as do many people, as does much trade."
"You speak wisely for a young boy, what is your name?"
"Aled, sire."
"Ah, the Briton who would remain in my service - " he sensed she would say more and held up a hand. He was right; Eluned was about to protest that she was Sais through her father, and thus gave her another reason to stay.
"And whom do you look for in my kingdom crossroads?"
"His name is Lancelot," she told him. Bayard held her gaze for a moment, waiting for her to say something more.
And Eluned might have, might have mentioned her Sais father. But it felt safer to keep that to herself.
"Well, Aled, you may remain in my service as long as you wish. But, remember, you may also leave when you will."
I would have anyway, Eluned thought. Instead, she bowed her head to the King of Mercia and took her place beside the princess.
Because, even though she had no idea who father could be, she felt it right to stay in Mercia. Besides, where would she even begin looking, knew little of Saxon.
The travelling Mercian court had packed up, to travel west, to Cornwall. And Eluned walked beside the royal carriage, hand on sword, to defend the princess, unaware of Bayard's eyes upon her.
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The name of the ruler of the Cornish Britons, whose castle lay on a high cliff above powerful waves was King Mark.
It had taken the best part of a week for Bayard's company to get to his fortress, travelling through rich farmland and dense forest.
It had been the third day of very pleasant walking when Aneirin nudged Eluned and pointed out there was a change in language. Though the Sais that lived in the western part of Wessex sounded similar to the Britons, when the farmland became more hill and the hills became more wild, so the people began to speak the Briton language.
"King Mark is a Briton?" Eluned asked Aneirin, surprised. "I would have thought Bayard and the other Sais kings would want to marry their sons and daughters of other Sais kings.
"It's not like that at all," Aneirin told Eluned. "By marrying Inesse into the Briton line he is making the Sais claim on the land. Like some of Queen Syla's ladies, those that are married are Britons from all over the land married to Sais knights."
"They come not by force but by trade," Eluned murmured, remembering something her father - her uncle - used to say. Integration was more effective than brute force. And her mind drifted to her own mother, Eleri, and her unknown Sais father.
"What?" Aneirin asked, passing Eluned some of the meat the guards were cooking over the fire - Eluned didn't want to know what it must be, out so remotely as they were.
"It was something my uncle said," Eluned told him. "Trade is respectable, better to sell you something than kill you. Because if you trade your customer might come back."
Aneirin laughed, his black hair blowing in the sudden breeze. "Sais, now," he warned, as a couple more of the guards sat down at the fire. Eluned nodded. It was better for them, safer, to speak Saxon, better than declaring they were Britons - such amnesty as had been shown when Bayard brought his servants to Camelot and potentially would have continued, had it not been for the poisoning incident.
"You, and you," the captain called from behind the two friends. "Wash-house. Now!"
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"I heard a rumour," Aneirin told Eluned, as they began on the royal laundry.
"Yes?"
"That the Sais better tolerate the Britons who practise magic." He scrubbed at a cloak, dirty with mud at the hem, using fern-soap.
"That doesn't surprise me," Eluned told him. "Uther became Christian, then outlawed magic. The Sais believe in a whole range of gods, like the non-Christian Britons." She took the cloak - blue, one of Bayard's lord's she guessed, and rinsed it water to remove the surfactant.
"So," Aneirin told her, switching to Cymraeg, "Were you a king and you were to discover that you had fathered a child that was not the queen's would you place it with a family who is Christian, or pagan?"
Eluned looked at her friend, pausing in her rinsing.
"Logically, pagan," she told him. "But that isn't the point you are making, is it?"
Aneirin shook his head, looking away as the Sais captain, Edmund, strode their way.
"A child of Bayard's was sent to live with pagan Britons," he told Eluned quickly, in Cymraeg, before switching back to Sais and handing her another cloak.
for rinsing. "Three more, then they're done," he added, and nodded at the guard captain.
"You were placed in a pagan Briton village," Eluned told her friend. "Where did you hear this?"
"Right after you spoke to the king, last night," Aneirin whispered to Eluned. "But, I don't think it's me."
A hidden royal child, Eluned thought, as she took up the last cloak
"When you've quite finished," Edmund the captain's voice filtered across from where the arms were being stored. "There are vegetables to peel."
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It was one of King Bayard's knights who greeted the careworn stranger late one night. A stranger, yes, but defender of Amwythig, for he had killed a beast that had been terrorising the surrounding villages.
"I am a mercenary," the man told the Mercian knight. "I was on my way to Lot's kingdom, for I had heard he had need of men to fight the Picts.
"My king would happily employ you, of this I am certain," Hereward the knight told the mercenary. "He is away withn his family to a betrothal."
The man, dark haired, swarthy of complexion, nodded shyly at the news, and turned to go.
"Wait!" Hereward called. "If you will not stay, would you spend the night? Eat some of Mercia's food that, through your selfless action you helped to defend?"
It was then that the mercenary's eye rested on a lady. Though he had feelings of affection for Guinivere - and she had reciprocated those feelings - he knew then that he had fallen in love with the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
"That lady?," Seren told Lancelot as he sat for supper. "She is leaving, to her husband's lands shortly."
"She is married," the mercenary replied, disappointment filling his stomach.
"Not any more; her husband, Thalhest, died at he battle of Ratae. She has inherited his lands and will live there until a suitable lord can be found." Seren dipped her head. "Not bad for a lady of the Britons."
A Brition lady, the mercenary thought. With eyes as bright as forget-me-nots and skin as clear as the sky in midsummer.
As the evening drew to a close, and the ladies got to their feet to desert the room, Lancelot followed.
And secured a place beside the lady Elaine as she went north, to Lothian, to a place that would one day be known as Joyous Guard.
