by Billy Wong
"Please don't. She did all she could."
"Except die."
Lance touched her face. "I wouldn't have wanted her to die. Come on, Gwen. It's not in you to hate."
"I do hate. And I want her dead."
If she asked what he thought she might, he would certainly have to refuse. Even for her, he wouldn't raise his sword against Mildy for no good reason. She was his friend, and he wouldn't betray her for nothing.
"How about I take you to meet her?" he offered instead. "I don't think you'll hate her so much, once you get to know her."
"But I want to hate her. I don't want to think this was all just a useless tragedy. I would rather think that evil won this round, so I can enjoy its destruction when it comes."
He ignored her irate stare as he said, "Then you'll have to watch me fight at evil's side, if that's how you must look at things."
They sat silently in each other's arms for a while. "You still love me, don't you?"
"Of course I do. But I won't make an unjust betrayal for it. Please don't do anything stupid, I don't want to lose you."
"You won't lose me. Lance, if she takes this castle, do you think she'll let me keep my room?"
He smiled then. "I'll make sure she does. But let's not think anymore of her. I came back for you, remember?" He laid down next to her, and for the first time, they consummated their love without the fear of her husband hanging over their heads.
#
Two weeks had passed since Arthur's death, and Mildy was out of bed despite the pains lingering in her chest. Now, as they ate roasted rabbit outside, Ares urged her to take Camelot as soon as she could. Their enemy defeated, most of the allied army had returned to their homes. But a small human contingent remained with her, its numbers boosted by survivors from Arthur's side who had joined. If she claimed the famed stronghold, Ares argued, she would establish both a physical and symbolic foothold in the struggle over the now kingless land.
"So you want me to accept my father's crown too, huh?" she said.
"You are his daughter, and the closest thing to an heir."
"And do you think it'd be a good thing for me?"
Ares scratched his hair. "I'm not going to lie to you, I think it'll be really hard. You're not used to life in a castle, let alone as a ruler, and it's going to be one hell of an adjustment. But of everyone who seeks to take Arthur's place, I think you'd have the best chance of gaining widespread support across the land."
"Really? I killed him, and they loved him. He was a legend."
He smiled. "And you're the new legend. You're the Dread Lady, the incest-born dark princess of the fey who destroyed the Round Table and survived taking Excalibur in the heart."
She raised her eyebrows. "And you expect people to want to follow that?"
"They'll respect you from the beginning, at least. As for making them like you, you'll have time to work on that. Slowly shed the evil tyrant image..."
"I don't really have an evil tyrant image, do I?"
"Not to anyone who knows you! But most of the people don't, and since Arthur was always portrayed as the paragon of good, his enemy hasn't gotten the best treatment in the minstrels' tales."
And maybe she deserved such treatment. She didn't think herself evil, but felt stupid to have been unable to salvage any less tragic outcome from her conflict with her father. He'd been so stubborn... why had he been so insistent on carrying on to the death? Neither of them should have had to die. The war should never have even started.
Mildy tried to push the thoughts tormenting her aside. "I suppose I do look like an evil tyrant now." She had again donned Meleagant's black skull armor, her battered golden faerie suit not yet fixed, and her new black giant of a horse was disturbingly reminiscent of her dead father's mount.
Her voice did not come out as lighthearted as she intended. "What's wrong?" Ares asked.
"It's the same thing I told you before. I don't deserve to rule this land."
"Well, of course you're not ready." To her chagrin, he clarified cheerily, "But that can change. Just because you know nothing about being queen doesn't mean you can't learn. You're still young."
That hadn't been what she meant. "No, Ares. I got into this position of potential queenship by killing my father. That's just awful."
She saw him swallow hard and look away while the tears began to flow down her face. What could he have said to comfort her? That it wasn't her fault? It still hurt like nothing else. She took a large bite of rabbit, hardly feeling the still-hot meat burn her tongue. As she chewed mechanically, continuing until the meat was well past ready to swallow, she could only think of Arthur's skull giving beneath her flail. Again and again the scene replayed itself. She wanted so badly to forget.
Ares turned back towards her and said gently, "I said it's not your fault and it's not, but when you killed him, you created the problem of Britannia no longer having a ruler. So if you're going to blame yourself, you might as well try to fix what you messed up."
Damn, that was actually a good point. But she didn't feel like admitting it. "And what do you have to gain from me becoming queen?"
"I-I don't know, I didn't think about it yet. I don't even know if it'll be good for me. I won't get to be your squire anymore, will I?"
At the sight of his nervous honesty, Mildy could not hold on to the anger she was trying to feel. "Oh, you'll still be my squire if you want. Just because I'm queen wouldn't mean I'd stop being a warrior. I might not get as much real action, but whenever there's a tourney, you won't see me sitting on the sidelines! And you can fetch me my lances, and fix up my armor; everything like we used to do. Except we'll be better dressed."
"Does this mean you're ready to accept your new role?"
"We'll see how things go. But I'm ready to take Camelot, at least. It'll be better than staying out here forever."
He nodded. "So what would be different about your ideal vision of Britannia?"
"I suppose it'd have more open interaction between us humans and the fey people. They live here, too. And definitely better treatment of women. I feel awful every time I hear of some poor girl forced to marry a mean man she doesn't love. And fair, consistent tax codes throughout the realm. Some of those local rulers take far too much."
"It sounds like you're actually putting some thought into this."
"Well... just like a lot of people, I'd love to see some changes around these parts. I just don't know if I'm the one to do it."
"You're the one who has the chance to."
"It'll be tough to bear everybody hating me at first, though."
"They wouldn't hate you for long. And not everyone hates you. You did have your share of allies in winning the war."
Mildy nodded. She would have a pretty good start in heading a new Camelot. But she didn't know how she could ever bear to sit in the seat her father once had.
#
She found herself leading her force to Camelot anyway, its massive walls and looming towers increasingly imposing as they approached. It was a good thing she'd never had to assault this mighty stronghold, and she hoped she wouldn't now.
When they came within shouting range of the castle, a woman's voice yelled down from the parapet, "You will not take our home! Camelot will never fall!" Looking up, Mildy saw that it was Arthur's queen Guinevere who spoke.
For a moment, she feared it might come to a fight after all. To her relief, a familiar man joined Guinevere on the wall and said something which seemed to calm her somewhat. "Mildy!" Lance cried. "Glad to see you're looking well!"
"You're here!" she yelled back. "Aren't you supposed to be banished?"
"What, are you going to enforce your father's edict?"
She laughed and shook her head. "So will you let us in or what? My voice is getting tired!"
The enormous drawbridge soon came down, and Mildy and her allies entered Camelot without violence. She hurried upstairs to see her old friend, and when they met on the third floor threw herself eagerly into his a
rms.
"Lance! I missed you so much."
"You really get stabbed in the heart?" he asked with wondering eyes.
"I don't know if it actually hit my heart, but it was at least really close. My chest still pains me, and far more often than I'd like."
Lance touched her shoulder sympathetically. "I'm sorry to hear that. Hopefully we can find the Grail wherever Arthur's hidden it and heal you. You know where Excalibur is, though?"
"Why?" she asked, taken off guard.
"It was the symbol of Arthur's power. You would do well to have it, for a token of your credibility. And it's not exactly a bad weapon."
It certainly wasn't. Her armor had been almost totally useless against the powerful blade. "But I'm not much of a sword person." And Excalibur would be an uneasy reminder of her father's death. "Anyway, I threw it towards the lake."
"Towards the lake?"
She chuckled. "I was a weakling with a hole in my chest, so I missed."
"Do you know who took it?"
"No. What, do you think I should go and find it?"
"It's an idea."
Just from a practical standpoint, it was good advice. It really would help her establish herself as Britannia's new ruler, and could prove a useful weapon in some trusted ally's hand. Maybe Lance could use it. "I'll have somebody look for it sometime. Let's get things in order here first, though."
Lance nodded, and a frown creased his face. "Yeah, I need to talk to you about that too. Guinevere wants to stay here, and in her old room. You know, the master bedroom, where she used to sleep with... her husband. Would you be willing..?"
"Of course. I wouldn't want to sleep in Arthur's room anyway. I'm sure there's plenty of other nice rooms."
"Tons of them. I'll be living like a king."
Mildy put her hands on her hips. "If you plan to live here, you'd better put in your share of the work."
"Of course. What do you need?"
She thought about it for a moment. "You can be my minister of foreign affairs."
"You only said that because I'm a foreigner."
"I thought I was going to fill that post," Ares said.
Mildy looked at him. "You don't know anything about diplomacy."
"I do?" Lance asked.
"You've got charm." He looked up at the ceiling, and she conceded, "If someone with better credentials becomes available, you can just be my general, okay? But right now, you're foreign affairs."
"You're starting to act queenly," Ares said.
She shrugged. "I've got a castle. Anyway, let's go explore it. I bet we'll find some stuff Arthur didn't know a thing about."
Ares looked at her curiously. "How's that?"
"Well, people overlook things when they've been living in a place forever. So let's see what we can discover!"
#
Ares was glad to see Mildy back in good spirits for the time being, but had wearied of searching the huge castle for possibly nonexistent secrets. As his friend massaged the basement wall for hidden switches, he said, "Milady, I don't think you're going to find a secret door that way anytime soon." And this was a rather unseemly way for the queen of Britannia to be behaving.
"We've barely been looking for an hour. Stop being such a downer and give me some help."
He sighed, watching her take a few steps to her next feeling spot. "Oh, fine." At least he could think about the future of Camelot while he felt up the wall. He began to wonder where he would sit on the new Round Table. Obviously, Lance would be at Mildy's side—would Ares also sit next to her, or would she choose a more respected knight like Gawain for appearances? Ares wanted a spot by his friend. He might serve no practical purpose there, but the position would feel good.
Lost in his own thoughts, Ares did not pay much attention to his search, and barely noticed a stone block recede at his touch. But he did see the wall open up before him, and was glad nothing hit him in the face. "Hey look, I found a door!"
"I told you so," Mildy said while she joined him, peering into the long passage revealed. "It sure is dark in there."
Ares took a torch off the wall. "That's odd. The tunnel's sides look like they're just plain earth."
"Are you supposed to be taking that?"
Realizing she meant the torch, he smiled. "It's yours, so can I take it?"
"Um, yeah. Oops. Not used to having all this stuff."
The two of them walked down the earthen passageway, eventually arriving at a dead end. "What, this is it?" Ares said. "What a waste of labor."
With a curious look on her face, Mildy stuck her hand right through the solid earth. "This isn't real," she realized. "It's just a magical glamour."
"How did you figure that out?"
"I just thought it would be really odd to have a secret passage to nowhere. So I touched it."
They walked through the faux wall, Ares hesitating for a moment before braving the illusionary barrier. Beyond it, a little block of ice lay on the dirt just before the true end of the tunnel. Inside the block was a tiny body. Mildy picked it up, shivering visibly, and Ares had no wish to get a better look.
He did anyway. "That's a dead baby..."
"A dead baby with an exposed brain."
She set it back down, and they stood there in horrified silence for the better part of a minute. Finally, Ares asked quietly, "How does that ice not melt? Magic, right? So whose baby was that?"
"I don't know. It was either Nimue who put it here, or Merlin himself. It doesn't matter now, considering they're both long gone."
"So what do we do?"
"Give it peace." She averted her eyes as she picked the block up again, and carried it out of its hiding place and into the world. They decided to cremate it, unsure if fire would even dissolve the magically stable ice. It did, but it would be a while before the unnerved Mildy suggested exploration again.
#
"Ha, brother, you'll never beat me!" Mildy laughed as she helped Gawain up, having bested him again in the latest of their regular sparring sessions. He and Lance still kept insisting she train with the longsword as much as the flail. Why? It wasn't even her second weapon of choice, and if Excalibur was such a symbol, it could just rest on her belt.
Gawain nodded in approval at her performance, but said, "I'd wager you wouldn't beat me quite so easily with a sword."
"That's not fair. It's not my best weapon, but it is yours."
He waved dismissively and walked off. Mildy could sense his uneasiness around her, and was irritated that he refused to discuss what he really felt even though she was his sister. Keeping up false pretenses seemed to be a priority here in courtly society... and here came an even worse neighbor.
Guinevere stepped out on the balcony and looked down into the dusty courtyard. "Hello, Dread Lady."
"Hello yourself," Mildy said, biting her lip at the sound of her unwelcome nickname. "Are you ready to let me see your room now?"
"I don't see why you should. I already told you there's nothing there."
"All right." She didn't know what else she was supposed to say. Probably nothing would have done her any good. Though Guinevere might possibly be hiding the grail, she did not feel quite ready to dare accuse her of lying yet.
"How do you enjoy being queen?" the former queen asked acidly.
"It's alright." She had done well enough on bravado thus far. At least, nobody questioned her to her face. Gawain showed signs of wanting to control her, but she'd surrounded herself with enough honest advisors to keep him in check.
"Looks like when the daughter's enough like a son, the wife's lost in the shuffle. And even patricide and regicide can be forgiven for the brute."
Mildy had to admit she had gotten off easy for killing Arthur, socially speaking. But she hadn't forgiven herself for it, and every time she saw Guinevere her guilt flared up with new strength. Infinite loathing seemed to reside behind the woman's eyes, and Mildy thought what she'd done probably justified such hate. And Guinevere had a point that maybe she was the
rightful queen. Wives inherited before daughters.
"Maybe you should be queen," she said.
"You know you wouldn't give it up."
Well, her friends and allies wouldn't let her. And though Mildy had little confidence in her ability as a ruler, she was at least a strong battle leader and a person who could stand up for her beliefs. Could Guinevere even say that much? She was a woman of the court, used to a life of submission to male authority. Mildy, at least, was no man's slave.
"It's working so far. I guess we'll see how far it takes us."
Guinevere's eyes smothered as they met her own. She sharply turned her back and stalked away, leaving Mildy to gaze skyward in frustration. Camelot might be an attractive home, but it wasn't a very accommodating one. She wished she could just kick out all the unfriendly guests and reserve her bed space for her trusted friends. But that would only make her more enemies, and she could not afford that.
She found Lance in his room, polishing his armor like he often did. "Your love despises me."
"I know."
"It's not too pleasant living with her like this. She's so unreasonable. I've searched everywhere else for the Grail, and while she might not have it, can it hurt to look?"
"You're the queen. Do what you have to."
Mildy shook her head. "You know it'll stir up a bunch of trouble if I force her. Maybe you could help me look for it, since you already share her room?"
"I wouldn't want to violate her trust like that. It would likely be worse on her than if you acted. But I think maybe it would be better for everyone if you and her were farther apart."
"You're planning to take her away from here?"
"She wouldn't leave," he said with a sigh. "So you might have to help me."
"Are you saying I should evict her? But won't she be angry, and wouldn't that upset you?"
His next words were so soft as to be nearly unintelligible. "I think I'm falling out of love with her. It's getting hard to be with her."
Mildy felt a pang of sorrow for her friend. For such a great love to end would be a tragedy, even if she viewed one of the lovers unfavorably. "What's wrong? How did it happen?"
He looked despairingly at her. "It's you, Mildy."