by K. M. Shea
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Morgause said. “Why are you so suddenly thinking ill of me, My Lord?” she asked, her countenance dripping with sorrow.
Britt narrowed her eyes at Morgause. If she wanted to get anywhere she would have to provoke the queen into revealing her true persona. “Did you try to take my knight’s loyalty away from them in retribution for your husband’s pitiful loss? Or,” Britt purposely paused. “Was it because it became apparent that your sons revere me and would leave you and your kingdom in a second to stand with me?”
Morgause froze, her posture taut and stiff.
Britt strolled around Morgause. “After all, what kind of love is more sacred than that between a mother and her sons? And to lose not one, but four of them? And the eldest being the heir to your kingdom? Now that is not only the illustration of shame, but also of irony. How deep their love for you must go,” Britt chuckled.
“What do you know?” Morgause spat, her hands clenched in fists. “You think you’re better than me? All you do is spout pretty words and deceive everyone around you into thinking you’re a great king when you’re not. You’re nothing more than Merlin’s puppet!”
“It’s true,” Britt said before leaning across the distance between her and Morgause. “But it doesn’t change the fact that it only took pretty words to lure your sons away, where as you had to use magic.”
Morgause screamed in fury, but Britt wasn’t done.
“And your magic didn’t even work on me—though heaven knows you tried. How pathetic you looked, fluttering your eyes at a man—your brother no less—who wouldn’t even glance your way.”
“You are no brother of mine!” Morgause snarled. “You are some sort of fae creature Merlin dug up from God knows where! Only faeries and women can resist the charms and enchantments I was given by the fae of the north!”
“Be reasonable, Morgause. If I was a faerie I would have no desire to rule over a human kingdom,” Britt said.
“You cannot deceive me. What other kind of male can be as beautiful as you?” Morgause snarled.
Britt laughed as she briefly tugged on a lock of her hair. When she looked up Morgause was staring at her.
All anger was gone, instead she studied Britt with intensity.
“You-you’re a, a woman,” Morgause said, her eyes widening.
Britt’s smugness left her. “What? Now you’re grasping at straws.”
Morgause shook her head. “You wouldn’t fall victim to my ensnarement, nor did you fight back with magic of your own. If you were a faerie there would be more enchanters than just Merlin behind you, and you wouldn’t have ridden into battle. You’re a woman.”
“Are you mad?” Britt demanded. “Not only is that a great insult, but—,” Britt was cut off when Morgause took Britt’s free hand in her hands and stared at Britt with something that looked like…hope.
Britt swallowed uncomfortably as the Orkney queen stared into Britt’s eyes. “It’s true, it’s true, you are a woman!” she said, throwing her arms around Britt in an embrace. Ten years seemed to fall off the queen as her voice grew joyous and her smile bubbled with happiness rather than smug temptation.
“All these years trying—and here you accomplish it! Does Merlin know? He must know. If he threatens to usurp you tell him I will see him turned into a rat,” Morgause said.
“I’m sorry, what?” Britt said.
“For years my sister Elaine—wife of King Urien—and I have tried to see a queen rule in Britain,” Morgause said. “It was the only reason why I came to this blasted castle. If Arthur died and Gawain was his heir naturally he would need some sort of regent until he inherited his Father’s throne as well. I planned to be that regent.”
“Um,” Britt started, but Morgause was on a roll.
“Men are stupid and daft creatures, and they think us women to be even less intelligent than them. If a woman was placed on the throne think of the good she could do! But it has never happened because men refuse to believe we have an equal right to rule… until now,” Morgause said, returning her lit up eyes to Britt.
“I’m not telling everyone I’m a girl,” Britt finally said.
“No, I suppose you can’t. But even if you aren’t publically a female ruler you can improve Britain! You can make life better for women,” Morgause said with the devotion of a zealot.
Britt studied the beautiful queen for a moment. “Is it a hard thing? Being married to Lot I mean.”
The smile fell from Morgause’s lips and she looked at the ground. “It is easier for me than most, I believe, being that he is gone much of the time and I have never had to fear him. But it is difficult. When one is treated like a mindless barn animal most of the time it is difficult not to be a mindless animal. I cannot imagine how women who are only as half as lucky as Elaine and I are treated.”
Britt considered the problem as she stared at rows of herbs.
“But the treatment of women is only part of it. Some things you are already changing. I heard you have used crown funds to begin constructing a public bath house. Most nobility would see that as sprinkling pearls before pigs, but it is a fantastic idea, My Lord,” Morgause said.
“I don’t understand. I ordered construction before you knew I was a girl, why didn’t you think it was a fantastic idea then?” Britt suspiciously asked.
“I did think it was. But I was never going to say so because I thought it was Merlin’s idea,” Morgause said. “Merlin was always such a chauvinistic pig. I thought he would be worse as the King’s counselor, but you’ve changed him.”
Britt laughed. “I highly doubt that. He’s just happy that his vision for Britain is finally coming true. But, Morgause, there is no way I can trust you. For all I know you’re saying this to get on my good side since I have reclaimed my knight’s loyalties and can freely kick you out of Camelot.”
Morgause thought for a moment. “Fine, then I have news for you. In the hunting party four days hence there will be men who will attempt to kill you.”
“What?”
“It was my husband’s plan. I have a letter if you wish to see it. He sent it to me through a courier while you were gone.”
Britt clamped a hand over her eyes. “I’m getting a headache.”
“Stay home from the hunting party and you will be safe. I suggest you find yourself ill the morning it is due to set out,” Morgause said.
Britt peeked at the queen from under her hand. “I still don’t understand. Why are you telling me this? Why are you helping me?”
“It is true that there is something glorious about a rightful male sovereign. He makes orders and is instantly obeyed, he is the best and brightest of all his peers and he rules with that distinction. But a female ruler… she inspires. She makes her men feel like they can be better men, she makes them feel trusted and warm. Although you wear the disguise of a man, Arthur, you rule like a woman. I think that is something Britain needs right now, and it is a goal I have long worked towards. I do not care who achieves it as long as it is achieved. And if I can help you reach that goal it will be my greatest pleasure,” Morgause said.
The sharp angles and slick, oily quality to Morgause was gone. Instead she looked at Britt with tired eyes and a tattered smile, more motherly and womanly than Britt had ever seen her.
“Thank you,” Britt said.
Morgause’s smile widened briefly. “Sadly, as much as I long to stay and watch and advise you, I feel it would be best for you if I left. If I leave before the hunting party I can tell my husband I thought my actions would make me avoid suspicion over your death. However, I will leave my sons with you.”
“Pardon?”
“Gawain would never leave you, and I think Agravain is only slightly less devoted. Gaheris and Gareth do not love you as the older boys do, they adore instead. I suspect they will not be much saddened to stay at Camelot.”
Britt balked. “I-I know what I said before was inexcusably rude, but—,”
“You s
poke the truth,” Morgause plainly said. “Lot and I were never the type to shower affection on our sons, and I have spent much of their lives trying to teach them the things I would like to see changed. I must admit I find their great love of you painful but… perhaps it is for the best. As long as they remain here in Camelot you can use them as hostages.”
“I could never kill a man, much less your sons,” Britt said objected.
“Who said you would actually have to kill them? Just threaten to as you did with Ywain and King Urien. Lot may not appear to love his sons like Urien dotes on Ywain, but he does have some feelings for them and he is not a stupid man.”
“You saw Ywain?”
“So he is here then? No. I only heard of it from my sister, and when Griflet was enamored with me he mentioned he and Ywain were great favorites of yours.”
“Oh.”
“My nephew aside, with my sons in your grasp I doubt my husband will move against you again. Or at least for some time.”
Britt stared at Morgause. “You are sacrificing much to see me stay on my throne.”
“If I am right about you it will be well worth it. And my trust is not completely unfounded. I witnessed firsthand how you rule and treat your enemies,” Morgause’s mouth trembled for a moment. “But I am giving you my greatest treasures, Arthur. I know you have a kingdom to rule but please, be kind to them.”
“Britt. My real name is Britt,” Britt said before smiling at Morgause.
Morgause pulled Britt into another embrace. “Be kind but clever. You are meant for great things, Britt,” she said before stepping back. “If you’ll excuse me, I must start packing.”
Britt nodded and watched the noblewoman hurry out of the herb garden. She waited a minute before following, ambling back to the castle keep.
As she rounded a corner she spied Merlin—coming from inside the keep—and Sir Ulfius— coming from the opposite direction and wiping stable dust from his tunic.
“My Lord,” Sir Ulfius said.
“YOU,” Merlin said, thrusting a finger at Britt.
“Call a meeting in one of your studies immediately, Merlin,” Britt said.
Merlin ignored the order. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Half the guards are combing the castle for your body, and Sir Kay is a wreck. Where did you run off to?”
“It doesn’t matter, but I must speak to you privately. Both of you, and Sir Kay and Sir Ector as well,” Britt said.
“Oh no you don’t. You owe me an explanation, I demand it. You never told me you ordered armor for yourself before you popped up by the throne with a rousing speech! You should have told me, I could have helped you,” Merlin said.
“No, you couldn’t have. You have been as useful as a pigeon in matters concerning Morgause,” Britt scoffed. “You said so yourself you couldn’t break the enchantment.”
“My Lord,” Sir Ulfius tried again.
“I was lying! There would be more meaning if you were able to break the hold it had on your men. It turned out for the best.”
“That’s a fine thing to say now that the need for magic is over with. You’re nothing but a roadside magician.”
“What?”
“My Lord.”
“Yes, Sir Ulfius?” Britt asked, turning to face the older knight before Merlin could recover from the blow to his pride.
“Merlin tells me you are looking for the Round Table?”
“I am.”
“I know the table to which you refer to.”
“You do?”
“Yes, My Lord. I do not know it’s current location but I am searching for it.”
Merlin draped an arm across Britt’s shoulders, clamping down on her like he thought she might run. “While that is marvelous news we had best return to the castle, lest Kay rips his mustache off his face.”
“When we see him we should talk about the assassination attempt,” Britt said.
“The what?”
“Someone is going to try to kill me.”
“WHAT?”
“They will strike against you in the middle of the hunting party?” Sir Ector said as he drummed his fat fingers on the table.
It had taken Britt a short while to explain the finer details of the assassination attempt Morgause had told her about. The most difficult part was explaining it without using the word assassin—apparently it didn’t exist yet as Merlin nor any of the knights knew what it meant.
“Strategically speaking it’s the best opportunity Lot would have. The party will undoubtedly go into the forest where it would be easy to hide any number of warriors. All members of the party will be armed, but that would provide a cover for the killers if they tried to portray Arthur’s death as a member of the party misfiring an arrow,” Sir Kay said.
“So Arthur remains at the castle and the attempt is thwarted,” Sir Ulfius said.
Merlin narrowed his eyes. “No.”
Sir Kay’s grip on the pommel of his sword tightened, and Sir Ector roared. It was Sir Ulfius who calmly said, “Are you mad?”
“If we catch Lot’s men in the act we can make them talk. We can then publically denounce the plot against Arthur’s life—which will help us control Lot.”
“Morgause is all but giving Arthur her sons. We have no need to try and control him,” Sir Ulfius said.
“But if we make the plot public Lot’s allies will back away from him,” Britt predicted.
Merlin affectionately patted Britt on the head. “Well thought,” he praised. “Everyone is at peace right now because they can’t afford another war. King Pellinore is indebted to us for letting him cross near Camelot to return home. He freely admitted he won’t attack again and I believe him. I’ve heard of his wife, she’s a strong lass from the north and she’ll skin him alive if he rides off to war again. Ryence is backing out of his war with King Leodegrance as fast as he can now that King Bors and King Ban have come out to play. King Urien won’t lift a toe to help Lot—brother-in-law or not—as long as we have Ywain. Without the support of his three closest allies you can be certain no one else will step in to help Lot.”
“In other words you will have isolated him and broken his political power,” Sir Ulfius said.
Sir Ector shook his head. “I still don’t like it.”
“You are gambling with My Lord’s life to make a political move. If My Lord is injured it will not bode well,” Sir Kay said, his words filled with unspoken promises.
“You forget something important,” Merlin delicately said. “If we don’t catch this first plot and Arthur plays invalid and misses the party it doesn’t mean that Lot’s attempts to kill Arthur are over. It means the only one we know about has been canceled. Lot may very well make any number of attempts, which will be far harder to fend off as we will not know when and where they will take place.”
Sir Ector and Sir Kay were quiet as they mulled over Merlin’s words.
“We are postulating all of this based off the words of a foreign queen with witch powers. Britt, are you certain of this?” Sir Ulfius asked.
“It’s Arthur,” Merlin hissed. Even in closed rooms using Britt’s real name was forbidden.
“No,” the older knight said. “I don’t want your play puppet answering. I want her honest opinion. Britt, what do you think?”
Britt swallowed as the knights stared at her. “I think Morgause can be trusted,” she admitted. “And I think Merlin is right. Based on what Morgause has told me, Lot won’t give up trying to off me—regardless of whether I have his sons or not—unless we publically humiliate him and break his political hold on northern Britain.”
Sir Ulfius nodded, satisfied.
“Then we make plans for a guard,” Sir Kay said, switching gears.
“We need to be careful not to plant too many, or we’ll scare off the Lot’s men,” Sir Ulfius said.
“Perhaps we could have extra guards dressed as servants. No one looks twice at servants, even servants carrying weapons.” Sir Ector suggested.
; Britt stretched when she stood. “I’m going out for a breath of fresh air,” she said.
“Very well, have fun. Merlin, do you have maps of the surrounding forest areas?” Sir Ector asked as he dragged his girth over to a bookshelf of maps and globes.
“Take guards with you, My Lord,” Sir Kay ordered as he opened his logbook.
“Good evening, My Lord,” Sir Ulfius said, sparing her a smile before he turned his attention to Kay. “Do we have any spies of our own that we could place in the trees?”
“None trained for combat, no,” Sir Kay said as Britt slipped out the door. She started up the hallway, heading for her room.
“Going to get that blasted dog of yours?” Merlin asked.
Britt jumped, she hadn’t heard the enchanter sneak out after her. “Yes, I left him there when I went to have Ywain and Griflet heft me into this armor. I doubt he’s happy with being left behind.”
“Do you need help getting out of that?”
“The armor? It would be appreciated,” Britt said, stopping a few paces down the hallway to open the door to her room.
Cavall sat just beyond the door, his massive tail thumping on the ground as he gave Britt a look of mild chastisement.
“I’m sorry, boy, I had to leave you,” Britt said, holding her arms out. The mastiff got up and padded to her, briefly snuffling her before taking up his customary post at her side.
“You won’t need to wear full armor all the time, you know,” Merlin said, shutting the door before he got to work unbuckling buckles and sliding pieces of armor off.
Britt slipped her hands from her gauntlets. “Really? You’ve been nagging me about it for weeks. I didn’t know if you would let me take it off to sleep.”
“Well, you did need a set of full armor—although I was thinking white or gold might be a better color for you,” Merlin admitted. “But what I specifically wanted you to wear was a cuirass reinforced with a plackart, faulds, and maybe a gorget.”
“I have no idea what any of those things are,” Britt said as Merlin finished taking armor off her right arm.
“A cuirass is the chestplate. It covers your chest—the plackart reinforces it around your belly—and yours would most certainly cover your back as well. Faulds are bands—or flaps really—that rest on the front of your thighs. They wouldn’t be necessary, but they—like a gorget which covers your throat—would help disguise your lack of male muscle development. I suppose you could always wear a hauberk—you’ll love it as it is all chainmail,” Merlin sourly said as he removed the shoulder pieces of the armor.