No one spoke for several moments. Guinevere huddled next to Lancelot, her arms wrapped tightly around him, her face buried in his chest. Arthur stood behind Zela, his own chest heaving with angry breaths. He kept glancing furtively over the heads of the faeries, hoping to catch a glimpse of Aiofe somewhere in the crowd.
“Well?” Zela put her hands on her hips and turned to Arthur. “Explain yourself. Now.”
The king gathered his composure and straightened his shoulders. “Zela, princess of the South, I would like you to meet Guinevere, Queen of Camelot.”
Zela's angry visage faded into one of confusion and concern. “Guinevere? As in, your wife? The woman who betrayed you?” She turned to Lancelot and pointed a sharply pointed finger at the knight. “With him?”
Lancelot's jaw worked like a fish out of water, but he disentangled himself from Guinevere and stepped away from her a pace. He raised his head and met Zela's glare, but he kept his mouth shut.
“Yes, this is her.”
As Zela's glare turned from Lancelot to Guinevere, the battered woman cowered appropriately in front of the Southern general. She fell onto her knees before Zela and clasped her hands in front of her. “Help me,” she cried as tears flowed freely down her face. “Please. I don't know where I am and I am so scared.” She gripped Zela's pant leg and stared up at her with her big blue eyes.
With a disgusted snarl on her face, Zela pulled away from Guinevere, but she turned to one of the more solid servants. “Take her into the servants' quarters. See that she is cleaned up and fed.” She pointed to the man in charge of security inside the castle. “See to it that there is a guard of at least two on her at all times. She is not to roam freely until I otherwise give word.”
Guinevere pulled herself to her feet and brushed tears from her face. She was taller than Zela by more than an inch when they stood face to face. The former queen smiled sweetly. “Is that really necessary? I--“
Zela held up a hand. She may have been shorter than the other woman, but her will was much stronger. “Silence. Take her.”
The faery servant gripped Guinevere gently under the arm and steered her out of the circle. “Arthur!“ Guinevere called, looking at him with pleading eyes.
“You'll be fine,” he said, keeping his voice even and unaffected.
Guinevere turned her pleas to Lancelot. “Lance, darling.”
The dark-haired knight bit his lip and looked to his king. “Arthur...”
Arthur hard stare settled on the knight's and Lancelot pressed his lips together. He avoided Guinevere's pleading eyes and lowered his own to the ground, acquiescing before his friend. As the woman's cries had faded into the castle, Zela turned to the crowd. “Disperse,” she commanded. “You have better things to do than pry into the affairs of humans. The other generals will be here soon. I will not have this place unprepared.”
She clapped her hands twice and the faeries scurried off, leaving behind the knights, Rogan, and the two old faery hunters. She sighed and shook her head at Arthur and Lancelot. “Really, boys? Are we going to do this again?”
The men didn't answer.
“You,” she said, pointing to Lancelot. “You are going to take your knights and go join the guard. You are going to keep yourselves busy and stay away from the castle until I call for you, understood?”
Lancelot glanced to Arthur, who nodded but refused to meet his eyes directly. The dark- haired knight turned from the group and led the others away as Zela faced Arthur. “And you, dear king,” she said with a bite to her tone. “You have someone to apologize to. Go find her and don't you dare come back here until you've made your peace.”
“But what about the meeting? They'll be here soon.”
“And when they arrive, we will be here to greet them.” She indicated herself and the Callaghans. “We will be just fine getting started without you. Go.”
Arthur nodded and plodded off in the direction he saw Aiofe run. As much as he wanted to find her and apologize and make things right between them, he also dreaded having to explain who Guinevere was and why he happened to be kissing her right as Aiofe walked up. Deep inside, a niggling feeling was also pulling at his heart. It was a feeling he had banished long ago, a feeling he did not want to feel again.
“Excuse me,” he asked a faery who was carrying a water bucket near the stables. “Did you see a red-haired woman come this way?”
The faery pointed toward the village. Arthur inclined his head. “Thank you.”
He continued walking and tried to ignore the thoughts that were scrambling around in his mind. Guinevere was back. His queen was back, the woman who had betrayed him and nearly ruined everything he had known had returned. He had finally patched his friendship with Lancelot, he had finally started trusting his heart to another, and now she was here, ready to ruin it all. He clenched his teeth and asked another faery if they had seen Aiofe.
Half a dozen faeries later, he found himself standing on the edge of a small forest. The trees spooked him. They seemed to lean in and examine him. They seemed to judge him. He pushed the ridiculous thought aside and walked down the path between them. There was only one way through. The trees were so crowded and overgrown, or so it seemed, that he was steered toward the middle of them without much choice in the matter. When he reached a little clearing, he found Aiofe huddled against the trunk of a larger, much older tree than the rest. The tree was bent over, though there was no wind, and the branches were swaying back and forth over her head. Arthur bit his lip and walked forward.
“Aiofe?”
The young woman's only response was to turn herself further away and put her back to him.
“Aiofe, please.”
She sniffed and buried her head deeper in her arms. The tree bent over further and brushed her hair with its branches. “Talk to him, dear,” it said.
Arthur jumped when a gap formed in the tree's trunk and it spoke. But then he looked around and noticed that all the trees were similar in one way, they all had eyes, and they were all staring at him. He walked cautiously forward, out of the mess of trees around him. He sat on the ground next to Aiofe.
“I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't mean for it to happen.”
“Who was she?” Aiofe's voice was muffled by her arms and she refused to look up.
Arthur cleared his throat. “Guinevere.”
Red hair floated around Aiofe's head as she jerked it towards him. “What?” She stared at him with suspicion and disbelief.
“It's true,” he said. “I don't know why she's here, but it's her.”
“Your wife is here? And you were kissing her?” Aiofe shot to her feet. “Wow, I just... I don't even know what to think. This is so beyond ridiculous.” Arthur stood up and tried to take her in his arms, but she refused to let him. “Don't touch me,” she said. “Please, just don't touch me.”
“Aiofe, please. I don't even know what's going on myself. It's all just so sudden.”
“I can't do this.”
Aiofe turned to walk away from Arthur, but a branch blocked her way. She spun in another direction and met another branch. “Give him a chance, dear,” the tree cooed. “You do not know what evil may have caused this. Give him a chance to find out, for both of your sakes.”
Aiofe glared up at the tree before turning her glare on Arthur. “Fine. Let's go find out what your loving wife is up to this time.” She stomped out of the woods, with Arthur right behind her.
*~*~*
SIX
*~*~*
As they walked along through the woods, the trees parted before them, leaving them just enough room to pass side by side. Aiofe kept a step in front of Arthur and jerked her hand away when he tried to twine his fingers in hers. She shot him a glare and picked up the pace. The crowd of faeries had fully dispersed when they reached the castle and nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Zela was standing on the steps, waiting for them. She gave Aiofe a this-is-crap look, but spoke to Arthur instead. “The others are arr
iving. We need to head into the council room.”
Arthur nodded once and walked past her into the castle. He gave Aiofe a brief glance before disappearing inside. As Aiofe approached Zela, the faery held out her hand and gently gripped her niece's upper arm. “Are you going to be okay?” Her face was a mask of concern and her eyes squinted at the young woman with pity.
Aiofe raised her chin and looked sideways at Zela. “I'm fine. I've been through worse than this.”
Zela looked like she wanted to say something more, but she pressed her lips together and nodded before ushering Aiofe inside. Aiofe stopped just inside the door and let her eyes adjust from the brightness of outside to the murky gloom of the hallway. Faeries and knights were milling around the door to the council room on the right, but she walked around them and found a seat on the stairs, far from the crowd.
“Quite the development, wouldn't you say?”
Aiofe jerked her eyes away from the spot she was staring at on the floor to glare at the newcomer. When she took in the copper hair that was a few shades darker than hers and the round face, the wrinkles around her eyes softened and her shoulders relaxed a bit. Eden gave her a small smile and sat down beside her. Aiofe had never met the faery before, but she had heard about her and recognized her immediately.
“I'm Eden,” the woman said as she settled onto the step below Aiofe. She leaned against the wall and propped her head up against the stone.
Aiofe took the hand she held out briefly. “Your mother is Oonagh, right?”
Eden paused for a moment, watching as Arthur greeted Deklen and Drakka. “Yes,” she said. “She is.” She pointed to a coppery-haired man leaning against the wall near the others. “That's my younger brother, Etain.”
Part of Aiofe wished Eden would just go away, but she said, “Is it just the two of you?”
The faery nodded. “For now. We are both engaged, set to be married two days apart in a ridiculously large celebration. It should have happened already, but with the uncertainty of this war, it had to be postponed.”
“Oh. So you don't have any kids or anything yet then?”
Eden lapsed into silence for a minute as she continued to watch the knights at the door. “No, no kids yet.”
Her voice was soft and Aiofe detected something that seemed almost like sadness or regret. She didn't have time to question it, though. Etain pushed himself away from the wall and waved a hand at Eden. The Eastern general stood up with a grace Aiofe could only envy and held her hand out to Aiofe. “Shall we?”
Aiofe grabbed Eden's hand and let herself be pulled to her feet. Eden stopped at the door to talk to her brother and Aiofe entered the room alone. Most of the knights were either seated or chatting with the generals. Zela was standing near her mother's chair, giggling as she whispered quietly with Percival. The knight's ears were bright red, but the grin on his face told Aiofe that whatever Zela was saying was hitting its mark perfectly. Several extra chairs had been brought in and Zela beckoned her over to a spare one next to her.
Percival bowed his head to Aiofe. “M'lady,” he said. He turned to Zela and inclined his head again. “Your highness.” He tossed the faery a quick wink before returning to his own seat at the Round Table.
The others were settling in and the door closed heavily behind Arthur. He was the last to enter and a hush slowly fell over the room as he walked to his seat. By the time he had reached it, silence reigned. The king stood at his chair and looked around the room. He had to spin to see everyone. His eyes paused briefly on Aiofe, but she returned his look with a glare of her own.
“Right,” Arthur said as he took his seat. “We have a lot to discuss today. There have been several developments since the last time we met, and we need to revise our initial plan. As you all know, Leanansidhe showed up when we were returning Aiofe home. As did Kane. Kane swapped his allegiance, again, and turned on Leanansidhe. They were both injured, quite badly, and Kane has been returned to my mother at Castle Eiri Greine. He is currently under the care of the queen. Any update, Zela?”
Zela stood up from her seat next to Aiofe. “He is stable, healing. My mother is one of the best healers in the land. He will recover, though it will be awhile. Until then, he is being held under strict guard. He will not make a move that we do not know about. He will have no visitors, no access to the outside at all. He will be guarded at all times, by those we trust completely. He will have no contact with Leanansidhe.”
“How can you promise that?” Deklen stood up from his chair opposite Zela. “He fooled you all once. How can you be so sure he wouldn't do it again?”
Zela bristled as Deklen crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows at her. His challenge was one that everyone, including Zela, worried about. “It will not happen again. If it does, he is dead. There are no more chances for him.”
Deklen snorted. “He shouldn't have had so many chances to begin with. Your mother gave him too much freedom. He got away with too much, always coddled, always given excuses. And look where it brought us! We're in a war, and it's all because of him.”
“It is not!“ The air around Zela crackled as she stepped away from her chair. “This war was not caused by my brother. It was caused by your aunt!“ Zela pointed a finger at Deklen. “She's related to you. How do we know that you're not helping her?” Small sparks of lightning danced around Zela's fists as they clenched at her sides.
“Enough!“ Eden rose from her chair and clapped her hands together. A booming echo resounded through the room. “You are acting like children, yet again. Can we ever have a discussion where you two don't devolve into petty argument?” She sighed and shook her head. “We're going to move on. Before we discuss anything else, we need to find out why Guinevere has returned from the dead. Bring her in.”
She spoke the command to no one in particular, but a moment later the doors swung wide. Two faery knights of the castle entered. Guinevere stood between them. She wore a new dress and her boots had been cleaned off. The wounds on her exposed skin had been cleaned and were healing. Her hair was combed and shone brightly in the flickering light of the torch beside her. An empty chair stood near the door and one of the guards beckoned her toward it. She shuffled over, keeping her shoulders hunched and her head low, and settled into the chair.
Eden left her spot and walked around the room. She glanced over at Aiofe briefly, then at Arthur, before she turned her attention to the woman. “Please tell us your name.”
Guinevere cowered in her chair. “You know my name,” she said softly, refusing to look at the woman. Instead, she craned her head around and tried to find Arthur. Aiofe watched as the blond woman smiled at the king. He kept his eyes firmly on the table.
Eden didn't relent. “Tell us your name.” Her voice was no longer soft. It had a hard edge to it and demanded a response.
Guinevere pulled her eyes away from Arthur and met the faery's stare. “Guinevere,” she said, giving the single word a little edge of snippiness. Then she added, “Queen of Camelot.”
Eden didn't acknowledge the second part. “And how did you come to be here, Guinevere?”
“Arthur let me in.”
Eden closed her eyes for the briefest of seconds. “You know that's not what I meant. Why are you in Faery?”
Guinevere's shoulders sagged and she looked at Arthur again. Her eyes darted between him and Lancelot, pleading for support, but neither man would look at her. Finally she gave up and looked back at Eden. “I don't know.”
The skin on Eden's cheeks moved as her jaw worked. “Then tell us what you do know.” Her lips pursed and she crossed her arms in front of her. Her patience was wearing thin.
Guinevere blinked at her a couple times before conceding. “Fine,” she said as she crossed her legs and got comfortable in the chair. “The first thing I remember is waking up in the woods. I don't know where. It was just some spot under a large tree. I heard hushed whispers nearby, like someone was talking, so I opened my eyes and sat up, but there was no one around. It was so
weird. I started walking. I didn't know where I was or where I was going. I felt weird, too. My hands weren't wrinkled like they should have been, and I felt young. It was like a dream, but I knew I wasn't sleeping anymore.
“I kept walking until I heard voices and laughter. I followed the sound until I found a clearing. What I saw...” She shuddered before continuing. “There were a bunch of those things, those things that chased me. They were all gathered around a fire, laughing and talking as they roasted up some poor beast. I heard one of them say something about Arthur, which was very weird. I pinched myself, hoping I was sleeping, but it hurt so much I yelped. They saw me and I took off running. They hooted and hollered and chased me until I couldn't breathe anymore. I thought I was going to die, but then I saw the castle. So I ran toward it. And as I was coming near the gate, there was Arthur. He came to save me, just as he always did.”
She beamed at him. He had raised his head to stare at her while she told her story and he found himself looking into her blue eyes. With a start, he jerked his head to the side to break the gaze. He pressed his lips together and found a spot on his tunic to be far more interesting.
“What did you hear them talking about around the fire?” Eden prodded the woman.
Guinevere continued to look at Arthur with a smile on her face and Eden had to prod her again to get her to respond. “Oh, I don't know,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “Something about an attack. They mentioned a queen, Leanansidhe? How she wanted to take over a castle or something?” Guinevere clapped her hands to her mouth and gasped. When she pulled them away, she said, “Oh no, do you think they meant they were going to attack here?”
As if on cue, a low, powerful hum sounded throughout the castle. Every single person jerked their head toward the door. Calis, a knight of the guard, burst through the door. “Your majesty,” he said as he fell to one knee before Arthur. “We need aid, sir. We are under attack.”
Queen of Hearts (The Risen King) Page 4