Chapter Six

Autumn 497

A fiery shower of reddish-orange leaves fluttered from the oak trees surrounding us as I looked out over the assembled men, many of them my friends, all of them my sworn subjects. From their number I had finally chosen my champion, and they were here, in a sacred grove protected by the Druids, to hear his name declared in one of our few rituals that mingled the secular with the sacred.

It had been my right, or more accurately, my responsibility, to choose a champion from the moment I was crowned queen. Arthur could not serve as both king and champion because doing so would have divided his loyalties between his wife and his realm, so I needed to choose a protector. But a champion was more than a bodyguard; he was in essence an extension of my will, vowed to follow me in all things. I had to trust him with my very life for he was sworn to protect me above all else, even the king. Together with Kay, Arthur’s champion, this man would protect my children as they were fruits of my body. I could have chosen randomly from the strangers I’d met at my coronation, as some queens had done before me, like a child drawing lots for a game. But I didn’t want to make such an important decision before I’d had the chance to get to know the temperaments and proclivities of those from whom I chose.

Some of them had openly courted me for the position, which had the opposite of the intended effect. I could not entrust my life to a man who desired the position for its status; I had to trust him implicitly, which I could not do with knowledge of his ulterior motives. Even those who’d employed more subtle tactics—I firmly believed that was the reason behind Malegant’s early efforts to accompany me in public—had hurt their chances. With each meeting of the Combrogi, and even some chance personal encounters, the pool of possible contenders had dwindled.

I’d made my decision that summer. I couldn’t say that a single event had cemented my choice, nor could I tell exactly when it had been made, but one day I looked at him and I knew. Perhaps it was the sum of a string of small moments, a kind word here, a gesture there, but as I thought back over our time together, the answer was clear. He was a dangerous choice, and one that likely would prove unpopular, but my mind was made up.

One thing still haunted me as I began to chant, letting go of myself and calling the Goddess into me—Merlin’s reaction when I had disclosed my choice the day before. He had turned his sapphire gaze on me, and I suddenly felt chilled. His pupils contracted as his gaze retreated inward, and a brief shadow clouded his face. It was a look I knew well—it signaled a flash of the sight.

Merlin’s eyes had focused on me as he came back to himself, but they lost none of their iciness. “Tell me, how can you be sure you’ve made the right decision?”

“Are you saying it is not?” I countered with equal steeliness. As much as I cared for and respected him, I could not abide his meddling in my personal affairs. It was my right to choose whom I willed. He was Arthur’s advisor, not mine, and I preferred him to stay out of my business.

He stood directly in front of me, towering over me. “I am saying all actions have consequences, and I have seen the result of the one you are contemplating. You tread a slippery hillside, Guinevere. If you do not guard yourself well, you may go tumbling down and drag us all into the mire with you.”

I pulled myself to my feet, no easy task with my protruding belly, and faced him down. Most people wouldn’t have dared challenge the Archdruid, but sometime in the last year, I’d lost the awe that had held me in fear of him. Maybe it was the familiarity of spending so much time with him or the fact that I now held a position of power as well, but I no longer felt compelled to cower in his presence.

I stepped toward him, forcing him to retreat slightly. “If you have seen something of such great import, Archdruid”—I laced his title with as much contempt as I dared—“tell it to me in plain terms; do not hide behind the vaguery of visions and prophecy.”

Merlin shook his head. “Alas, I cannot. You know as well as I that the future is fluid, ever changing as the sea. If I name what I have seen, I risk impugning innocent men and women”—his tone made sure I knew he was referring to me—“for trespasses they may never commit. I can only warn you that this reaches well beyond who carries a sword in your name.”

That was his last word on the subject. Now, with my eyes closed, I could feel him to my left, but I no longer sensed any hostility. He was doing his job as Archdruid, submitting to the will of the gods and no doubt praying they would change mine.

I made myself forget the past and focus on the present. This was as close as I would ever get to experiencing the power of the Lady of the Lake. Today, I was the Goddess in her role of Sovereignty, she who grants and removes temporal power. I was to invoke her just as fully as during any Avalonian ceremony but without the aid of the sacred drink for I still needed my human faculties. I was to be at once goddess and queen, the supreme symbol of womanhood, both mortal and divine.

I said a silent prayer for guidance and let my consciousness slip downward in the quiet. At first, nothing happened, then a silver glow, like liquid moonlight, filled me with warmth. I felt her within me, a quiet, gentle, reassuring presence.

I opened my eyes, and the awe on the assembled faces made me realize I must appear to them every bit the Goddess incarnate. Merlin had dressed me in the pure white gown of the Maiden, which was cinched by a thick black cloth belt, symbolizing the wisdom of the Crone, and covered in the rich crimson cloak of the Mother. That I was nearing the end of my pregnancy only added to the effect.

I opened my arms wide and addressed them. As I spoke, I wasn’t sure if it was in my own name or that of the Goddess or both. I had the strange sensation of remembering the ritual, rather than reciting it, as though it were as familiar to me as breathing. “I have called you here today for one purpose—the arming of a champion. This role is second only in sacredness to that of kingship. As such, it is a privilege only I can grant, and once sanctified, none may contest.

“Many of you are worthy, but only one can hold the office. I have searched my own heart and endeavored to know yours. Know the one whom I have chosen is not peerless, nor should he seek to place himself above the rest. I choose him because he is, to me, best suited for the role. It is an honor, yes, but the man who takes on this mantle also shoulders a great burden, so do not be envious of his station.”

In unison, the assembled men knelt. I regarded each man with new perceptiveness, seeing them with the vision of the Goddess. My eyes passed over Kay and Bedivere, whom I could never choose because they were Arthur’s men through and through and their loyalty would always be to him; to Bors, Malegant, Accolon, and a few others I liked but mistrusted for reasons I could not name; past Aggrivane, with whom my tangled past would forever be a stumbling block; and finally to Owain, Tristan, and many others I knew had greater loyalties to their lords than to me.

Finally I found the face I sought. “Lancelot du Lac, arise and stand before me.”

Merlin closed his eyes and bowed his head in disappointment and submission. I gestured Lancelot forward, and the men murmured to one another uneasily. Hesitantly, and slightly self-consciously, Lancelot did as he was bidden.

“I have chosen you for my champion. Do you accept this office?”

He smiled and dipped his head humbly. “I do.”

Before I even had the chance to ask, Aggrivane was on his feet, shouting, “I invoke the right of challenge.”

His words were greeted by an audible gasp from the crowd, followed by cheers of support. Lancelot hadn’t made many friends since his arrival. Many of the men would have been happy to see him publicly defeated.

When I’d made up my mind, I foresaw this might happen, but challenge was Aggrivane’s right. At the time of first investiture, any man might challenge the chosen one and the two had to do battle. The winner would be the queen’s champion, but the loser was allowed to renew his petition each year on Lughnasa for seven years. If the challenger was ever successful, the title would pass to him. If not, the title would remain for life with the original winner. I could only hope Aggrivane wouldn’t hold a grudge for long.

The human part of me was mortified and afraid that Arthur would take Aggrivane’s outburst as a sign of lingering affection for me, but the Goddess within saw the justice. I had no choice but to let them proceed.

I nodded, speaking the words of the Goddess. “Men have long fought for love of me. Lay on, but draw no blood within this sacred circle.”

Weapons were not allowed within the sacred grove, so they would have to fight hand-to-hand, a skill I knew Aggrivane possessed. I was unsure of Lancelot as I had only seen him do battle with a sword. Amid cheers from their supporters, they both removed their shirts and shoes and rolled up their trouser legs. The crowd quieted and formed two camps, leaving the combatants in full view of where I stood.

As they circled each other like wolves, Lancelot taunted Aggrivane. “I have already bested you in front of the king and court once. Do you really wish to have me humiliate you in front of the Combrogi and the Goddess as well?”

Aggrivane’s answering grin was thick with malevolence. “It will be all the more sweet to avenge that affront before such an audience.”

Then he lunged at Lancelot and grasped him around the shoulders, seeking to throw him off balance. Their brawl reminded me of two spiders fighting, an indistinguishable tangle of limbs. They struggled not only against one another but against nature herself, unable to find true purchase on the wet, leaf-strewn ground. One moment one seemed to have the upper hand, then fickle Fortuna would smile upon the other and he would rally, flipping his opponent and pinning him but never for long.

Their grunts and groans were nearly drowned out by the cheering Combrogi, who had forgotten they were still at a ritual rather than a game of sport. Most supported the son of Lothian, but a few were on Lancelot’s side. For my part, I held my breath and tried to abandon my will to the Goddess who floated unperturbed inside me.

Finally, Lancelot wrestled Aggrivane to the forest floor and held him down. Merlin begrudgingly declared him the victor. Aggrivane snatched up his shirt and returned to his place, growling. I thought it cruel that he now had to watch as another man yet again took his place by my side, but I was powerless to change tradition.

Brushing leaves, dirt, and acorn shards from his hair and pants, Lancelot dressed and once again took his place in front of me.

“Lancelot du Lac, so named as the son of the Lady of the Lake in the forest Broceliande, you have declared your willingness to serve as my champion; now swear your allegiance to me.”

Lancelot knelt and touched his thumb to his forehead, lips, and heart in recognition that his vows were to both queen and Goddess. “My lady and my queen, I thank you for selecting me as your champion and defender. Though I know I am not worthy, I humbly accept this honor and pledge myself to you. I vow to use all that I am, all that I know, and all that I may acquire in your service. Anything you ask of me, I will do. If you are in peril, I will rescue you; if you are reviled, I will defend you; if you are threatened, I will fight for you, even unto death. My life is now forfeit; do with me as you will.”

Arthur stepped forward and drew his sword, the legendary Caliburn, one of the treasures of Avalon given to him by the Lady of the Lake when he became king. He held it flat, shining blade resting against on his open palm, hilt of intertwined golden dragons in the other. He held it out to Lancelot, saying, “Know that you defend my queen in my name and with my power. Anyone who opposes you opposes me.”

Lancelot bent his head to receive Arthur’s blessing. As Arthur sheathed his sword, I handed another to Lancelot. It was a specially forged replica of Caliburn, the only difference being that the jewels in the dragons’ eyes were a bright emerald rather than ruby. The similarity was meant to remind Lancelot, and anyone unfortunate enough to face his might, that he fought in defense of the house of Pendragon. As Lancelot accepted the weapon, the sun bounced off the blade, illuminating its inscription: “In Her names and by Her power, I defend this land.” A reminder of these very vows.

As Merlin blessed Lancelot and consecrated his sword, the Goddess departed from me, her purpose fulfilled. The tranquility and peace left me in a rush like an exhalation, and just as quickly, my usual worries flooded back in. I looked over the Combrogi, wondering how they were reacting to the news that Lancelot was now not only master of the horse but my champion as well. Part of me wished I could hear their thoughts, but I knew it was best I could not. They were no doubt filled with resentment. Every one of them hoped to be elevated to a higher position in Arthur’s court, and as far as they were concerned, its two highest honors had been given to an unworthy outsider. I hoped they would come to understand in time.

I couldn’t help but watch Aggrivane. Even as Merlin said the closing words, Aggrivane shifted from foot to foot, understandably uncomfortable. After Merlin’s final blessing, Aggrivane shot through the trees and out of sight just as he had the night he lost me to Arthur.

Merlin shooed everyone out of the grove so he could purify the site for its next use by the Druids. The men dispersed, some talking excitedly in groups, others striding off to the horses, anxious to begin the long ride back to Camelot. But Lancelot lingered at my side.

“Thank you for this honor, my lady. It is truly unexpected, and I will be forever grateful,” he said as we followed others to the horses.

I kicked up leaves like a child as I walked. “You are best suited to defend me in all things, and I trust you implicitly.”

As we passed Merlin, I expected him to ignore me, but to my surprise, he put out a hand to bar my path. He glanced up at Lancelot and then back to me.

“What is done is done,” he said without preamble. “I suggest you find Aggrivane and try to make him see reason. He stormed off in that direction.” He pointed east. “You are the only person he will listen to right now, and we cannot afford to make an enemy of him.”

Without another word, he entered the circle and began paying homage to each of the oak trees as though I did not exist.

I gave Lancelot an apologetic look. “He’s right. I should go and find him. Please wait for me here. I will not be long.”

Aggrivane had made no effort to cover his tracks. Following his footprints, deep and unmistakably stamped with rage into the muddy depths of the forest, I picked through clumps of mutilated leaves and swept past decapitated branches, the innocent victims of his anger, until I came to a small clearing at the edge of a stream.

His back was toward me as he faced the water. “You should not have come.”

“But you knew I would.” I couldn’t see his face, but I imagined how he would close his eyes and smile ruefully by way of answer. He was determined to ignore me, so I crossed the clearing in a few purposeful strides then tugged on his shoulder in a vain attempt to force him to face me. “What would you have me do, Aggrivane? Choose my former lover as my champion? How would that look to Arthur? To the court?” I was almost yelling, my voice raw.

He had to see reason. He had to know I’d had no other choice. Because I hadn’t, had I? I wrapped my arms protectively around myself. Suddenly I wasn’t so sure.

For a long while, Aggrivane said nothing, and sounds of the forest returned as the birds decided my outburst was not aimed at them. Then slowly he turned, his face a stony mask, but I saw pain reflected in his eyes.

“Yes,” he whispered. “That is exactly what you should have done—selected the one you wish to have always by your side, not a substitute to distract you from your true feelings.”

The candor of his words struck me to the core as surely as if he had buried an arrow deep inside my heart. Tears dampened my cheeks before I could find my voice, and I turned away. My mind was working feverishly to deny the truth of his words.

“I am no longer the girl you met in Avalon. My actions. . .” I took a deep breath. “Are watched by everyone.” I winced inwardly as I realized how close I had come to repeating Merlin’s words about my actions having consequences. “To have named you my champion would only have given my detractors something to use against me.”

“Did Lyonesse teach you that, how to make excuses for any subject?” Aggrivane spat, referring to the malicious woman I had lived with during the latter part of our courtship.

I whirled around, ready to retort, but he stopped me by holding up his hand.

“Everything you have said to me since I returned has been one gigantic justification.” His eyes narrowed, inspecting my face. Then he firmly gripped my shoulders, forcing me to look directly into his eyes. “Why do you refuse to acknowledge that you are still in love with me even to yourself?” His eyes searched mine so thoroughly I felt naked before him. “Do you know what I was about to say to you the day Camille interrupted us?”

I was about to reply, but he rushed on. “I was about to tell you that I was still in love with you. Married or no, neither of us can deny what flickers deep within no matter how hard we try to hide it or snuff it out.”

Aggrivane cradled my cheeks, and my heart cracked all over again, just as it had when my father separated us, just as it had when I futilely searched for his face in the moments after Arthur proposed. I closed my eyes, trying to deny what my heart so readily understood. My head spun with a million thoughts, the loudest being a voice shouting, No, this cannot be happening. He did not just say those words.

You are dreaming; this is not real, I kept repeating, but I knew it wasn’t true. I tried to force the feelings down, and I let out a strangled gasp as they nearly choked me. I did still love him, but to admit it, to say it out loud, would have been treason. And once I gave voice to those feelings, there would be no going back—no controlling the torrent that came with them.

The words were hanging on my tongue, each beat of my heart bringing them closer to my lips. I pulled away, head bowed and eyes on the grass slowly dying beneath my soles. I knew what I had to do, what had to be said, but every fiber of my being railed against it. I swallowed hard and forced myself to speak, my voice sounding foreign to my ears. “This has to end, Aggrivane. We can’t continue to live like this. I do not want to lose you, but there can be no illusions about what is or ever will be between us.”

Aggrivane cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. I didn’t dare look up. I knew by his silence that his expression would rend me beyond repair.

“If that is what you wish,” he said, clearly struggling to keep his voice steady. “But promise me one thing.”

I answered without hesitation, “Anything.”

I suddenly remembered how he had looked the night we first kissed, the way the wind rippled his black locks into shining waves and how his dark eyes twinkled like the stars in the midnight sky. I would have given anything to be able to go back to that moment, to start things over and live the life destiny had stolen from our grasp.

“Promise me no matter how much you love your husband or esteem your champion, no matter how many others you burn with passion for, you will reserve a small place in your heart only for us. It can be in the darkest depths of your soul, but I need to know there is some part of you no one else can touch, a place that is purely mine.”

I stared at him, wishing I could tell him such a place already existed, sealed from all others by wounds that would never fully heal, scars that marked me as his as clearly as if he had carved his name into my heart. But all I could do was nod and wipe away the tears as they fell. “I promise.”

His smile was as tender as his touch as he ran his fingertips down my cheek from my temple to jaw. “So do I.”

As he embraced me one last time and kissed my forehead, I knew my love for him would haunt me forever.