Daughter of Destiny

by Evelina, Nicole

  “Thank you,” I finally croaked, still shocked at her peace offering.

  Elaine giggled and settled herself against the hollow of the branches as if nothing had ever transpired between us. “This reminds me of when we were little.”

  Elaine’s cheerful disposition today was one in a series of fluctuating moods she had displayed in the past few months. They ranged from the bitter rage and pain she had displayed when yelling at me to such joyful optimism that I began to wonder if she had taken to drinking. No one could predict her humor; it changed with the wind, often oscillating severely in the course of a single day. She had always been a moody child, given to fits of temper, but never in such extreme.

  “Do you remember the time we followed those two merchants out of town?” she asked, swinging her legs merrily.

  I laughed, seeing clearly in my mind’s eye younger versions of ourselves stowed away on the back of a cart. One of the merchants had a son whom we both fancied. Our plan had been to ride along unnoticed until the merchants stopped at an inn for the night. What we were going to do then, I could not recall. I doubt we had thought things through that far.

  “We made it nearly to the next town before we were discovered. We are just lucky the merchants were friends with your father—who knows what could have happened to us.” I shivered at the thought. “I thought your father was going to kill us when we turned up back at Corbenic at twilight.”

  “I think my rump is still sore!” Elaine exclaimed, rubbing her backside at the memory.

  “It is not half of what we deserved.”

  In the valley below, the rest of the hunters caught up with Arthur’s party. They seemed to be discussing what to do next.

  “Guinevere, can I tell you something?”

  “You can tell me anything. You know that,” I said absently, plucking an apple off the branch next to my head.

  When Elaine did not speak, I looked up. She was wringing her hands again. I raised my eyebrows, willing her to speak whatever was vexing her.

  “I—I am not sure where to begin, how to say—” she stammered.

  I bit into the apple. “Just say it, Elaine.”

  “I think I have met my husband.”

  Her words tumbled over each other so fast I had to take a moment to decipher what she said. I stopped chewing. “Tell me more.”

  Elaine’s face was as scarlet as her dress. “Please do not think me mad, but last autumn, I was in my room praying and I happened to glance over at my mirror. The light from one of the candles caught the edge of the metal, and there was this bright spark. Then it seemed to me that a face was staring back at me.” She stared off in the distance, her face placid with the memory. “I could not see him clearly, but his face shone like the sun, his eyes the color of the sea. At first, I thought it was an angel, but then I was given to understand that this man was real and that he was coming for me. Guinevere, he is the man of the prophecy.”

  She turned to me, her eyes lit up like a child seeing a beloved relative return safely from war.

  So Isolde was serious about that. I had to respond carefully. One wrong word and she might crack, spiraling into tumult as easily as she now shone. I made sure my voice was measured and even.

  “Dear heart, are you sure you were not imagining things? Or mistook your own reflection? Perhaps you fell asleep and were dreaming.”

  “I wondered that too. But then Galen appeared. For a long time I thought he was the one. I kept trying to reconcile his face with the image in my mind, but something did not fit right. Then when he disappeared, I knew my instincts had been right. He was not the one. But then I saw him again—the man from my vision—at the tournament.”

  Oh no, I think I know where this is leading. The flower. That’s why she gave him the flower. I swallowed my mouth full of fruit and lowered my head, looking up at her. “And who was that?” I asked, knowing full well the answer she would give.

  “Lancelot, the man who won the tournament.” She looked sheepish now, much younger than her years. “On impulse, I sent one of my maids to him with a blossom from my coronet. I know it was not much, but I wanted him to have a reason to remember me.”

  I nodded, pretending to understand, wondering what the best approach was to take with her. “No wonder you were so upset when he refused the position in Arthur’s house. Have you any idea where he went after that?”

  She shook her head slowly. She was gazing off over the treetops again. “He probably took to the road again. He said he likes being a nomad warrior, remember? But he will come for me. Someday he will proudly take my hand, and my heart.”

  There was a sudden commotion from the hunting party below, and we both jumped. The dogs were baying again, chasing an animal up the hill not far ahead of where we sat. The men abandoned their horses, scrambling after the dogs on foot up the rocky terrain.

  Elaine and I looked at each other. If we started running now, we would cross their path in little time. We leaped down from the tree and took off in the direction of the hunt. Excitement escaped from my heart as a whoop of joy as we ran.

  Soon the shouts of men were nearby and we slowed to a walk, not wanting to disrupt the hunt or spook the animal.

  I was still trying to understand all that Elaine had said. “So if you know this man—Lancelot—will return, why do you sound so worried? What is there to fear?”

  “The problem is that my maid overheard Arthur and my father discussing a dowry last night.” She grabbed onto my arm, forcing me to halt. “Guinevere, I think the king is going to ask me to marry him!”

  I considered that. Arthur had been paying a lot of attention to Elaine, and Pellinor had looked very pleased with himself lately. If the king was planning to leave soon, it would only stand to reason he would take his future wife home with him. It also would explain the hunt and tonight’s feast.

  I blinked, unable to resist the grin the thought brought with it. “Elaine, I think you are right. Forget about the shadows of the past and things that have yet to be. Do you understand what this means? You are going to be queen!”

  “Do you really think so?” Her expression flickered from uncertain to one of serious consideration. “Queen.” She repeated the word like it was foreign on her tongue. “It is certainly a higher rank than I ever imagined.” Then she laughed. “Perhaps I was wrong. Maybe this is my fate. My mother is going to be so proud!”

  We met up with the hunting party before they crossed the ford. Pellinor and Arthur were walking at the head, chortling at some joke we had missed. Elaine curtsied to both.

  “Come, daughter, walk with us,” Pellinor invited, wrapping an arm around her.

  I gave her an encouraging smile.

  Lot and my father followed, once again in deep conversation. To my delight, my father paused to embrace me before continuing on. I considered that a very good sign.

  As I passed on down the line, I met Kay and Gawain, who were carrying the deer, which was tied to a log by its front and back legs. A line of knights followed, merrily singing a common drinking song. No one noticed that Aggrivane and I lagged at the rear, quietly holding hands behind our backs.

  “Have you spoken with your father?” I asked, keeping my voice as low as possible.

  “I have.” Aggrivane grinned, tilting his head in so our foreheads touched. “He reiterated his support and said he would confirm this with your father.”

  “Did he?” I bit my lower lip in anticipation of his answer.

  “He said an announcement would be made at the celebration tonight.”

  I stifled a squeal by stealing a quick kiss and then made sure the proper distance was between us in case anyone thought to glance back. It took every bit of control I could muster to keep from skipping back to the castle.

  Corbenic had never seen such a feast.

  As we dressed for the evening, Elaine ran in and out of the room, peeking down over the balcony every few minutes and keeping me up-to-date with constant status reports.

  “Oh,
Guinevere, you should see the flowers! I’ve never seen so many blooms in one place before. They are practically raining from the ceiling,” she said breathlessly, as her maid caught her by the arm, forcing her to stand still.

  “She will soon enough if you stay in one place long enough for me to dress you,” her maid said sharply.

  When we finally arrived in the hall, I gasped. Elaine had been right. While we were away, the servants had done a spectacular job decorating the hall for the farewell celebration for the king. Brightly colored autumn leaves, gourds, berries, and flowers of every shade lined every available surface and candles glittered merrily in between.

  Lyonesse sat at the high table, looking out across the hall filled with revelers. She was practically purring with delight. Her daughter had been given a place of honor next to Arthur and was now engaging him in what appeared to be delightful conversation. Her husband sat on Elaine’s other side and Lyonesse next to him. She looked every inch the queen tonight.

  As a ward of Pellinor’s household, I had the fortune of being seated only two places to the left of Arthur. My father sat between us, Kay and Arthur’s other companions following on down the line.

  Kay had just begun to recite an amusing poem one of the court bards had created about one of their less graceful courtiers when my father gently touched my elbow. He nodded toward Arthur, who stood, goblet in hand.

  The room fell silent by degrees as people took note of their king. “I would like to thank Lord Pellinor for his gracious hospitality over the last several moons. I and my court placed an unexpected burden on him by coming here and then staying longer than expected, so this feast is more than I could ever have asked from anyone. You have been a most cordial host, and your generosity will long be remembered.” He raised his cup to Pellinor. “Long life and many blessings to you, friend.”

  I repeated the toast with the rest of the assembly and drained my glass.

  Arthur smiled and gazed out over the crowd. “As many of you know, there is a tradition among the people of this land that when the king partakes in a hunt, the head of the stag is awarded to the fairest lady. In this court, I find many worthy candidates, but my decision is clear.”

  A trio of servants wheeled out the stag’s head, dressed as a trophy and adorned with chrysanthemums and garlands of rosebuds. A golden chain was wound between its horns, and from it dangled a sparkling emerald the size of a man’s eye.

  “Elaine of Corbenic, please do me the honor of accepting this token of your king’s appreciation. Your kindness has touched my heart. I swear you will never be forgotten.”

  Arthur took Elaine’s hand and raised her to her feet. He removed the jewel from its perch and secured it around her neck.

  The crowd erupted in applause, and Elaine blushed in response.

  Arthur kissed the top of her hand gently before helping her back to her seat.

  As the servants began to serve the main course, I caught Aggrivane’s eye. He was sitting at a lower table with his father and brothers. He smiled and winked at me, and butterflies took flight in my stomach. Tonight would be something grand.

  We ate heartily, the fallen deer providing some of the best meat I had ever tasted, succulent and tender, perfectly paired with sweet squash, savory salads, and other late-autumn delights.

  Throughout the meal, Elaine, more jovial and outgoing than I had ever seen her, held Arthur’s attention. Her sapphire eyes, accentuated by the color of her gown, sparkled invitingly, and I was not surprised that Arthur could not tear himself away.

  Only once did he look in my direction, a stolen glance that first was directed at my father, then lingered on me. I was transfixed. The power and grace that emanated from the king was palpable. I could do little but stare and drop my gaze shyly to the table when he finally looked away.

  By the time the plates were cleared, my face was flushed with joy, and I was feeling the effects of the wine. For once, I partook with abandon, letting it carry away my cares on a current of heady optimism. Kay kept me in stitches throughout the meal with an endless stream of humorous remarks about everyone and everything and showed little signs of stopping. He had even managed to procure my permission for a dance later in the evening.

  Amid the buzz of conversation, Arthur stood again. Someone rapped on the underside of the table, and silence fell over the hall.

  “I promise, this is the last time tonight you will have to listen to me speak,” Arthur said.

  A smattering of laughter followed.

  “Many of you have made it quite clear you feel it is time for me to take a wife. I tell you tonight that I have decided to take your advice.”

  Another murmur rippled through the crowd as everyone looked around, wondering who the lucky woman could be. Many eyes were fixed on Elaine, who looked like she would faint. Next to her, Lyonesse was practically bursting with anticipation.

  “The woman I have chosen is not someone many of you know well, as she has modestly kept to herself these many years. But in exchange for a service I would freely render to any of my subjects, her father has offered me the most valuable of gifts, his only unmarried daughter. I believe she is well prepared to lead our land in these uncertain times and can influence those I cannot. I will admit that until recently, I was unaware such a creature of beauty and learning existed in our midst, but from the moment I saw her at the tournament, I knew I wanted her to be my queen.”

  My father squeezed my hand, and I looked at him, confused. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lot lean in toward Aggrivane and whisper something in his ear. Aggrivane’s face went white and he started to rise, but Lot held him fast.

  I was still watching them when Arthur’s words reached my ears.

  “Guinevere of Northgallis, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  The world slowed. I could hardly believe what I had heard. Me? Didn’t he mean to ask Elaine? There must be some mistake.

  Frantic, I looked to my father for reassurance. He grasped both of my hands and was grinning broadly.

  No, there must be an explanation. Service? What service? Oh no. No. No. No. Arthur was not referring to the counsel he gave Pellinor, but to saving my father’s life. I am repayment of his debt. No, this cannot be happening.

  My eyes darted to Elaine, who sat frozen in shock, a single tear dripping down her cheek. Lyonesse stared at me, murderous hatred naked in her expression.

  In that instant, I could almost hear the response that was expected—nay, required—repeated in the thoughts of the hundreds of onlookers.

  I scanned the room for Aggrivane, to plead with him to do something to make this madness stop, but he was already gone. All I could see were the expectant expressions of my father and Arthur. I was alone in this trap, and there was but one way out. My response was not a choice but rather the submission of one already condemned.

  My lips said yes, and cheers erupted all around.

  I beamed back at my betrothed, but inside my heart was screaming, I am so sorry, Aggrivane.

  As the commotion continued, I prayed my false expression would hold and not betray the anguish in my heart. All of my hopes and dreams had fled with Aggrivane, along with my freedom. Though others saw me as a fortunate woman, I felt like little more than a prisoner, transferred from one dungeon to another. I knew almost nothing of this man who was to be my husband, and yet I was supposed to happily accept him. My heart rebelled in painful spasms. To marry without love was to embrace the cold emptiness of the tomb, only without the sweet release of death.

  I looked around the room with trepidation, suddenly realizing my assent to be Arthur’s wife meant more than the loss of my maidenhood. If Arthur willed it, I would become high queen, and these people, my subjects. With a jolt of alarm, I realized Argante had predicted this very moment when I stood before her as a mere girl hoping for acceptance to Avalon.

  Another crown sits on her brow, she had said, or rather the Goddess through her.

  Part of me wanted to collapse
in the rushes, to beat my fists on the floor like a petulant child and wail at the injustice done to me. But I had made a vow when I became a priestess that I would follow the Lady’s will, no matter where it led. If she wished me to be with this man, then I had even less choice than I had imagined.

  I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath before gliding to Arthur’s side, arranging my expression into one of pleasant shock. I felt nothing but distain for him—and for my father—for treating me like a brood mare, but I could not let that show. There would be plenty of time for confrontation later, in private. Now, I had to play the part of the future queen.

  Tentatively, I took Arthur’s hand, and he stepped back, presenting me to the assembly. Avoiding the malevolent glares of Lyonesse and Elaine, I lifted my head high and willed the power of priestesshood to emanate from me. This might not have been my choice, but it was my destiny, and I was going to face it on my own terms.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Winter 497

  The sigh of a reed pen across parchment, one jagged line of ink. That was all it took to betray my king and myself.

  My signature, made with trembling hands, may have made me Arthur Pendragon’s wife, but it couldn’t change my heart. He’d asked for my assent to this marriage and I gave it to him, but it was a lie.

  It was my duty. That much I had resigned myself to in the two months since Arthur had proposed marriage, shattering my dreams of a life with Aggrivane of Lothian.

  From my place next to Arthur, I watched with hollow detachment as our marriage contract was sealed in the snowy courtyard of the old Roman fort of Carlisle.

  Arthur stood, back to the northern gate, facing my father. Arthur’s breath showed as small puffs of white in the frosty air. “King Leodgrance of Gwynedd, by the signing of this contract, I bind myself to you and your kin through the hand of your daughter, Guinevere. As proof of my fidelity, I bestow upon you the price of her honor.” Arthur extended a wooden box of coins, ornately wrought gold brooches, and jewels—my bride price. The money assured my father of Arthur’s sincere backing of our union, but it would become mine should we ever part ways.