for himself alone. No god would punish him for this thing he committed in ignorance; it is some work of Hell to weaken us all.”
“Gwalchmai,” I said tiredly, “thinks the Queen Morgawse was a kind of demon.”
“By Heaven, her heart must have been blacker than any mortal’s, to have done this thing. Does he really imagine that anyone could rule better than he does? Even now, even with him as emperor, we are scarcely able to hold to what the old Empire was; what would we do without him?”
I shook my head, my hand clenching, feeling the line of the signet ring against my palm, “I think that all we have done to this day has been to build a thorn brake against the wind,” I said, “and since the peace we have been trying to light a fire behind it. But I thought we had the substance of a fire to light the world, here in Camlann, given time. Only Medraut will tear our thorn brake down, if we let him. Arthur knows, and he thinks it his fault. By you are right, without him we have nothing but the darkness and the winds, the kings of Britain fighting among themselves over a purple cloak. He will not let that happen.”
“I pray God it does not.” Bedwyr looked at me again, then crossed to me, knelt before me, and took my hands clumsily. He kissed them. “Most noble lady…you do not need me to tell you that he loves you beyond any other. If anyone can comfort him, it is you.”
“I have tried. But he does not want comfort. He will hold the fortress, but he will punish himself for this, and I cannot stop him.”
“Try again, my lady.” His expression was earnest and tender. “You are no coward; I know you would fight on even if the fight were hopeless, and it is far from hopeless now.”
My longing, his kindness, Arthur’s pain: I was stunned with too much feeling, and could not feel. “I am…justly rebuked, lord,” I managed to say. “Very well. And for yourself, you deserve the trust he gives you, and deserve it as much from myself as from my lord, if I were to thank you as your kindness merits, I would never have done with thanking you.”
He looked at me earnestly a moment longer, then again, hurriedly, kissed my hands. He stood, looking at me, then bowed. “I must go and find Gwalchmai, and tell him what has happened. God keep you, my lady.”
“And you, noble lord.”
When he was gone, and I had the house to myself, I put my face in my hands and strove to calm myself. Be still, still…I could hear the breeze in the thatch and the hollow sound it made under the eaves; distant, indistinguishable voices shouting far off down the hill. There. My skin felt hot, and I stood up and went into the next room and found a pitcher of water. I splashed it against my forehead and cheeks. But calm eluded me. I felt as though a fire had begun below my heart in that web of grief and helplessness, and I could not extinguish it so easily. Though I was glad of Bedwyr; he had been kind…
I stopped, staring into the water pitcher. Bedwyr. What had I felt when he kissed my hands? What shape was it that he had made on the air before me, to draw my heart out after him, as Arthur did?
“Oh God,” I whispered, and the lips of my reflection moved in the water, horrified. Not this, not now, not when I had so much else to do! How had this danger crept up on me, that I had not even noticed it until now? I had been secure in my love for Arthur. Oh, to be sure, some men are attractive and the body finds them so, but that is a thing easily laughed away and not to be taken seriously. I had never loved any man but Arthur, never thought I could. There were many I counted as close friends, and Bedwyr had been among them, but now I was surprised, trapped into another feeling, one that bit more deeply into the heart.
I thought again of how he had looked at me, so tenderly and earnestly; of the hurried touch of his lips against my fingers…I could feel it still, like a ring of invisible gold. I clenched my hands to fists,
“Gwalchmai,” I said tiredly, “thinks the Queen Morgawse was a kind of demon.”
“By Heaven, her heart must have been blacker than any mortal’s, to have done this thing. Does he really imagine that anyone could rule better than he does? Even now, even with him as emperor, we are scarcely able to hold to what the old Empire was; what would we do without him?”
I shook my head, my hand clenching, feeling the line of the signet ring against my palm, “I think that all we have done to this day has been to build a thorn brake against the wind,” I said, “and since the peace we have been trying to light a fire behind it. But I thought we had the substance of a fire to light the world, here in Camlann, given time. Only Medraut will tear our thorn brake down, if we let him. Arthur knows, and he thinks it his fault. By you are right, without him we have nothing but the darkness and the winds, the kings of Britain fighting among themselves over a purple cloak. He will not let that happen.”
“I pray God it does not.” Bedwyr looked at me again, then crossed to me, knelt before me, and took my hands clumsily. He kissed them. “Most noble lady…you do not need me to tell you that he loves you beyond any other. If anyone can comfort him, it is you.”
“I have tried. But he does not want comfort. He will hold the fortress, but he will punish himself for this, and I cannot stop him.”
“Try again, my lady.” His expression was earnest and tender. “You are no coward; I know you would fight on even if the fight were hopeless, and it is far from hopeless now.”
My longing, his kindness, Arthur’s pain: I was stunned with too much feeling, and could not feel. “I am…justly rebuked, lord,” I managed to say. “Very well. And for yourself, you deserve the trust he gives you, and deserve it as much from myself as from my lord, if I were to thank you as your kindness merits, I would never have done with thanking you.”
He looked at me earnestly a moment longer, then again, hurriedly, kissed my hands. He stood, looking at me, then bowed. “I must go and find Gwalchmai, and tell him what has happened. God keep you, my lady.”
“And you, noble lord.”
When he was gone, and I had the house to myself, I put my face in my hands and strove to calm myself. Be still, still…I could hear the breeze in the thatch and the hollow sound it made under the eaves; distant, indistinguishable voices shouting far off down the hill. There. My skin felt hot, and I stood up and went into the next room and found a pitcher of water. I splashed it against my forehead and cheeks. But calm eluded me. I felt as though a fire had begun below my heart in that web of grief and helplessness, and I could not extinguish it so easily. Though I was glad of Bedwyr; he had been kind…
I stopped, staring into the water pitcher. Bedwyr. What had I felt when he kissed my hands? What shape was it that he had made on the air before me, to draw my heart out after him, as Arthur did?
“Oh God,” I whispered, and the lips of my reflection moved in the water, horrified. Not this, not now, not when I had so much else to do! How had this danger crept up on me, that I had not even noticed it until now? I had been secure in my love for Arthur. Oh, to be sure, some men are attractive and the body finds them so, but that is a thing easily laughed away and not to be taken seriously. I had never loved any man but Arthur, never thought I could. There were many I counted as close friends, and Bedwyr had been among them, but now I was surprised, trapped into another feeling, one that bit more deeply into the heart.
I thought again of how he had looked at me, so tenderly and earnestly; of the hurried touch of his lips against my fingers…I could feel it still, like a ring of invisible gold. I clenched my hands to fists,
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