LANCELOT AND GUINEVERE
CAROL ANNE DOUGLAS
Hermione Books
WASHINGTON, DC
This book is dedicated to Mandy Doolittle,
who brought joy to my life
Copyright © 2016 by Carol Anne Douglas.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
For permission requests, write to [email protected].
www.CarolAnneDouglas.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Lancelot and Guinevere/ Carol Anne Douglas
ISBN 978-0-9967722-2-8
LANCELOT AND GUINEVERE
List of Characters
1 CAMELOT
2 IDYLLS OF CAMELOT
3 THE RED WARRIOR AND THE BLACK WARRIOR
4 PENTECOST
5 TO THE CONVENT
6 THE WARRIOR OF THE HAWTHORN BUSH
7 THE SAXON GIRL
8 THE MONASTERY
9 MISTAKEN FOR LANCELOT
10 THE YOUNG WARRIORS
11 THE HIGH QUEEN
12 TRISTAM AND ISEULT
13 THE DARKENING CLOUDS
14 KINDRED
15 THE GRAIL
16 GUINEVERE’S TEST
17 LANCELOT’S QUEST
18 LANCELOT FOUND
19 THE MAID ELAINE
20 THE REUNION
21 GALAHAD’S QUEST
22 DRIAN’S TALE
23 THE SCARRED WARRIOR
24 THE DISCOVERY
25 SORROW UPON SORROW
26 QUEEN OF FIRE
27 TO THE CONVENT
28 THE DEATH OF ARTHUR
29 AFTER THE BATTLE
30 LIFE AFTER DEATH
31 GALAHAD
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
List of Characters
Lancelot, a woman in disguise.
Guinevere, queen of Britain as the wife of King Arthur, Lancelot's lover
King Arthur, king of Britain
King Arthur's relatives and close connections:
Mordred, King Arthur's bastard son, born to a prostitute and raised cruelly in a brothel. Arthur doesn't know of his existence.
Queen Morgause, Arthur's aunt, the sister of the mother he never knew. Morgause has ruled Lothian and Orkney since the death of her husband, King Lot.
Gawaine, Morgause's eldest son, King Arthur's cousin, and Lancelot's closest friend. He knows Lancelot's secret but doesn't disclose it.
Agravaine, Gawaine's younger brother.
Gaheris, Gawaine's brother. He's younger than Agravaine.
Gareth, Gawaine's youngest brother.
Morgan, Arthur's half-sister and one-time lover
Elaine, Morgan's daughter by Arthur. Arthur doesn't know of her existence.
Galahad, a girl disguised as a boy and raised in a convent. Morgan's daughter by Gawaine, but she has been told she's Arthur's child. No one outside the convent knows of her existence.
Cai, Arthur's foster brother, the seneschal in charge of managing Camelot, including the kitchen and the servants.
Merlin, the man who raised Arthur. Merlin was schooled in the old religion at Avalon, which no longer belongs to Old Believers but now to monks. Old Believers are fading away.
Women at Camelot:
Lionors, Bors's wife and Guinevere's friend
Fencha, Guinevere's old serving woman
Ragnal, a serving woman and Gawaine's favorite mistress
Luned, Guinevere's serving woman
Creirwy, a serving woman
Talwyn, a girl whom Guinevere is fostering
Gwyl, a mistress of Arthur's
Nimue, a girl at Camelot
Felicia, Gwyl's daughter, a girl at Camelot
Gralla, a girl at Camelot
Lavinia, a girl at Camelot
Lysanda, a lady at Camelot
Gwynhwyfach, Guinevere's bastard sister, who was captured by the Saxons when she was a girl. Guinevere believed she was dead.
Warriors at Camelot:
Bedwyr, Arthur's first follower, a warrior
Bors, one of Arthur's long-time warriors
Peredur, a long-time warrior of Arthur's
Gereint, a warrior
Sangremore, a warrior
Bellangere, a warrior
Tristram, a warrior
Dinadan, a warrior who is Cai's lover
Patricius, a warrior
Mador, a warrior and Patricius's cousin
Galihodin, who trains the young warriors
Younger warriors:
Percival (Percy)
Lionel
Camlach, he's been told he's Gawaine's son, but he isn't
Cildydd, he's also been told he's Gawaine's son, but isn't
Clegis
Colles, Gwyl's son
Blioberis
Gillimer
Accolon
Other men at Camelot:
Father Donatus, the chief priest at Camelot
Catwal, Lancelot's blind serving man
Hywel, Gawaine's servant
Tewdar, Arthur's servant
Gryffyd, a warrior who went mad during Arthur's war with the Saxons and is now confined to a room. He thinks all the men he sees are Saxons and enemies. He's Talwyn's father.
Huw, Gryffd's attendant
Cuall, the stable master
Cathbad, a stablehand
Convent of the Holy Mother:
Abbess Perpetua
Mother Ninian, a nun who earlier was a leader of the Old Believers
Sister Darerca, Ninian's special friend
Sister Valeria, Guinevere's childhood friend
Sister Fidelma, Valeria's special friend
Monastery:
Father Paulus
Abbot Ulfin
Infirmarian
Saxons:
Aldwulf, a thane
Hilda, his daughter
Other characters:
Drian, a harper who is a woman disguised as a man,
a friend of Lancelot's
Iseult, Tristram's lover and the wife of King Mark of Cornwall
Enid, Gereint's wife
Antonius, an old friend of Lancelot's
Branwen, Antonius's mistress, who left the convent to be with him
Cecilia, a wealthy lady
Bagdemagus, a lord in the Southwest of England, who is raising Elaine as his daughter at Morgan's request. His dead wife was Morgan's cousin.
Aglovale, a former warrior of Arthur's now living quietly at his home in Dyfed. He doesn't want to fight anymore. He's Peredur's brother, Percy's father, and Lancelot's friend. He knows Lancelot's secret.
Olwen, Aglovale's wife, who also knows Lancelot's secret
Illtud, Aglovale and Olwen's younger son
King Maelgon of Gwynedd
Keri, Maelgon's daughter
Royce, her betrothed
Uwaine, son of King Uriens of Rheged
Dunaut, Coan, and Tudy, panderers who raised Mordred brutally
1 CAMELOT
The great hall at Camelot blazed with torches and the fires in its huge firepits. Lancelot felt her face blaze even more as Gawaine said, "So, Lancelot, how i
s Etaine? Why don't you visit her before she gives birth? I look forward to drinking a toast to your son or daughter. What did she say she was going to name a boy? Galahad, was it?"
Lancelot cast an angry look at red-bearded Gawaine, who was clearly the tallest man in the hall even when they were all seated at the spokes of the round table. The gold torque around Gawaine's neck showed that he was highborn, son of the late King Lot of Lothian and Orkney and Queen Morgause, who had succeeded her husband. The torque was only a little less grand than the one King Arthur wore, but the difference was enough to be noticeable.
"I have no intention of seeing Etaine, now or ever." Lancelot thumped her goblet on the table. As Gawaine knew well, Etaine had pretended to be Guinevere so she could lie with Lancelot and claim that Lancelot was the father of the child she was carrying. Gawaine had lain with the lady instead, and guessed that she was already with child, but had persuaded Lancelot to refrain from denying paternity. That was his idea of protecting Lancelot, now that he had discovered she was a woman. Lancelot thought she had been right not to tell Guinevere that Gawaine knew, for Guinevere would have cringed at his jests even more than Lancelot did.
"As you won't marry the lady and have no wife to fatten you up, I must do what I can to keep you from starving," Gawaine replied, cutting off a shank of mutton and throwing it onto Lancelot's plate.
She made an angry gesture with her knife and looked pointedly at the weapons and shields hanging on the walls, as if suggesting she wanted to fight him if he didn't stop talking about her supposed fatherhood. Would Gawaine's love for teasing and jesting lead him to reveal her secret unwittingly? Lancelot shuddered inwardly, remembering how recently the king's exiled sister, Morgan, had threatened to reveal her sex. The thought of losing her place at Camelot made Lancelot's stomach muscles tighten. She did not want to eat the meat that Gawaine had tossed to her, but it smelled so appealing that she began to slice it.
Some warriors laughed with disbelief at Lancelot's denial of attachment to Etaine. "No doubt Lancelot has good reasons for refusing to see the lady," King Arthur said. The slightly graying red-haired king, who knew that Lancelot had not lain with Etaine but not that Lancelot was a woman, cast a sympathetic look at his queen, Guinevere.
If only Guinevere were not Arthur's wife, Lancelot wished, as she had wished every day for many years. Guinevere was her own true love, and it still pained them that they could not acknowledge that fact.
The king was not the only one looking at Guinevere, Lancelot noticed. Half the hall was staring at Lancelot, while the other half watched Guinevere to see her reaction to the talk of Lancelot being the father of another woman's child. Although almost no one knew that Guinevere and Lancelot were lovers, people constantly watched them for signs of love for each other. How difficult it was to try to hide their love.
Lancelot made a slight sign with her fingers to communicate her sympathy to Guinevere. At least Guinevere knew that she never looked at any other women.
Then Bedwyr, a thin-lipped man with a left arm that had lacked its hand since the Saxon War, chimed in, "Lancelot says that he has no call for congratulations, but Bors does. His wife just gave birth to their twelfth child, the eighth boy! Let's toast him."
The warriors bellowed their congratulations and swilled their mead in Bors's honor. The gray-mustached warrior who was their object beamed, nodded his thanks, and said, "Another gift from God."
Gawaine added, "You helped, Bors," and the hall was filled with such loud laughter that the harper, who was playing a song about Arthur's defeat of the Saxons, paused.
While the warriors' attention was focused on Bors, Guinevere made unobtrusive hand signals to Lancelot indicating her extreme annoyance over Gawaine's remark. Guinevere's blue eyes showed displeasure. Lancelot signaled back that she could do nothing about Gawaine's tales and jests.
The sage Merlin, whose once-gray beard had turned white, did not join in the warriors' laughter. Instead, he sighed. "Such merriment," he said to the king. "I hope it will last."
“Why, of course it will. Let the hall be filled with joy," Arthur replied heartily, then took a swig of mead.
"Have some mead, Merlin. You've been looking a little pale."
The old man took only a sip.
One of the king's wolfhounds, padding about in the rushes on the floor, approached Lancelot and thrust her head in Lancelot's lap. Lancelot cut off a bit of the mutton and gave it to her.
Later in the night, Lancelot went as usual to the queen's bed chamber. Guinevere thrilled at the sight of her. Lancelot's advent always felt like a celebration.
"Our room awaits you. Here is our enchanted bed," Guinevere said, indicating the bed draped with the finest green cloth.
Guinevere enjoyed the warm fire in the brazier and the scent of her beeswax candles. But she scarcely saw the hangings on the wall that depicted women picking apples and gathering wheat, or her gray cat, Grayse, sleeping on a chair heaped with cushions.
Lancelot's beauty outshone everything else, Guinevere thought. Lancelot's long, angular face framed by wavy black hair led many of the ladies to cast glances her way. Of course they believed that Lancelot was a man. Her large brown eyes, touched as ever with a hint of sadness, looked at Guinevere as if she were the fairest woman in the world. Lancelot's movements when she first entered Guinevere's room were always tense, as if she feared being sent away, though she never had been. After a while, she seemed to relax.
"I don't like this tale about your being the father of a child." Guinevere sighed. She also had been displeased by the way Arthur had looked at her when everyone talked about Lancelot fathering a child. Must she worry about keeping him at bay? She had stopped lying with Arthur before she began with Lancelot, and she liked her husband much better now than when she had been required to go to his bed. Arthur knew that she and Lancelot loved each other, and did not mind overmuch. He imagined that it had been his idea, so Guinevere would conceive a child, but Lancelot had been her lover well before Arthur had suggested the affair.
"Gawaine's just jesting, as he likes to do. What does it matter? I love none but you," Lancelot said soothingly. "Be not angry, my queen, for you are my forest as well as my love. Let me comb your hair and visit my trees," she said, brushing a stray strand of Guinevere's black hair from her forehead.
"If I may visit your water-meadow later," Guinevere teased, removing from her neck the golden torque that showed she was queen.
"Water-meadow? Is that a swamp? Oh, lovely. Your compliments are not so sweet, my lady." Lancelot laughed, undoing Guinevere's black braids, which were dark as her own hair.
"Fair, indeed. A water-meadow in which an orchid grows. I prefer moors to mountains."
Lancelot kissed her neck. "What, do you think of mountains as men? No, they surely are breasts. And here is my forest," she said, pressing her face into Guinevere's hair. "Here are the oaks, the alders, the hazel, and the rowan. I am jealous of anyone else who has ever combed your hair."
Guinevere laughed. That, at least, Arthur had never done. "Including my old nurse Macha, who always complained about the tangles?"
"Including her, of course. I wish I had seen you as a child."
Guinevere swished her head back and forth so the hair flopped across her warrior's face. "You would have seen many tempers if you had."
"Stay still, or I cannot comb your hair," Lancelot complained, trying to pull a silver comb gently through the long strands.
"I can't enjoy it while your poor breasts are bound." Evading the comb, Guinevere turned to her. "Let me unbind them."
Lancelot surrendered the comb. She raised her arms and let Guinevere help her take off her crimson tunic, then stood while Guinevere unwrapped the thick cloth that held down her breasts.
Guinevere pressed her lips to the breasts and Lancelot held her tightly.
"Bind me to your bosom," Guinevere teased, and Lancelot, who was much taller, kissed the top of her head.
"Would that I could. How soft yo
ur cheeks are. If only mine could be soft for you." As Guinevere knew, Lancelot rubbed them with pumice every morning so it would look as if she had shaved.
"If they were any softer, I would faint when I touch them, so it is well that they are not." Guinevere reached up and caressed Lancelot's cheek. It was far softer than Arthur's cheeks ever had been. Now he wore a beard, and the hair in it was stiff, like a boar's. She was glad that she could just brush her husband's cheek with her lips and be done with it.
She had wanted Lancelot ever since the day they met, but it had taken years to win the sweet warrior to her bed. Lancelot hadn't realized that Guinevere could see that she was a woman, and even when she learned that Guinevere knew the truth, had feared the sin of adultery. The sin didn't worry Guinevere greatly, though perhaps it should. She suspected that Lancelot, who had not received the sacraments since the day they first embraced, said prayers that were haunted with guilt. But how could such a deep love be wrong? Rather, it had been wrong to lie loveless with Arthur.
The night passed all too quickly, and at a dark, early hour, Lancelot had to bind her breasts and clothe herself again. Dawn was the one time that they could not see each other. Guinevere imagined how the rosy light would look illuminating Lancelot's face.
Guinevere called her back to the bed and pressed her lips one more time. She gently touched Lancelot's left hand, which had lost two fingers in the Saxon War. It was amazing that Lancelot could use that hand for many things, fighting included.
"'Til tonight," Guinevere murmured.
"A thousand things will happen before we can be together again in the dark," Lancelot said, sighing.
She walked to the largest tapestry, the scene of women gathering fruit, and pulled it back, revealing the hidden panel to the passageway she used.
Guinevere returned to sleep. When dawn had passed and sunlight streamed into the room, her white-haired serving woman, Fencha, who had the only key to the queen's room other than Guinevere's, entered and greeted her.
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