by Jay Allan
Merlin looked down sadly. "It will be a bitter fate for the girl, for Gorlois is foul and callous. I fear her married life would not be a happy one."
"She will do her father's bidding.” Constantine’s tone was suddenly imperious. "Just as Elisedd, her father, shall do mine. If this is the price she must pay that we may save Britannia, then so be it, for is it a greater sacrifice than that of the warrior who dies on the field? She is a lord's daughter, and if she marries Gorlois her son will be a king. It is a good marriage for her, loftier than she might have wished for."
Merlin was still hesitant. "Still, though you are right, I still cannot help but grieve for a young girl so consigned. What must be, must be, but I am saddened by the choice. And what of Uther?"
Constantine looked up, surprised. "What of Uther? What has my son to do with these matters?" Merlin looked down and was silent for a moment, as if he was considering what next to say. "Merlin?" Constantine repeated himself impatiently. "What of Uther? Of what do you speak?"
Finally, Merlin let out a deep breath. "Constantine, I believe that Uther is quite fond of the girl. Of Igraine. He snuck down to her father's camp to see her several times during the council, though he thought he did so unnoticed. He went on the voyage at your bidding, but I feel he has intentions toward her when he returns."
"That boy has never shown interest in any woman beyond bending a serving wench over a table. Now he thinks he will just pick a wife from among my lord's daughters?” Constantine was annoyed, and the topic brought to his mind recollections of past arguments with his youngest son. “No. I shall not see my alliance falter over some infatuation of Uther's. No doubt he will happily drown his sorrow with the smith's wife or the cooper's daughter, and that will be the end of it."
Merlin fidgeted uncomfortably. "My friend, Uther and you have ever been at odds, but there is more to the boy than you now see. There is great strength in him, of character as well as body. He shall play a greater role in what is to come than you believe."
"He is my son, Merlin, and he has the strength of the Pendragon. Think you I would have sent him to the empire had I doubted that? If Uther wants a wife I shall find him a suitable one, but it shall not be Igraine. For you would not have suggested her were there other options. For Gorlois we need a bride of great beauty who is closely tied to my house, yet of noble enough birth to appeal to the man's vanity. There is no one else."
"It is true." Merlin spoke sadly. "No other option could I see, for I would not have suggested Igraine were there. But I fear that Uther will be more deeply troubled than you believe. Indeed, I feel as though I betray my friend, and yet this we must do, lest all fall to the usurper."
"I shall send for Elisedd and Igraine at once. Ambassadors I will dispatch to Cornwall on the morrow. If all goes well, we shall travel to Tintagel Castle as soon as can be arranged. Thus I, who have claim to the high kingship, shall journey to Gorlois, still but a duke, for I shall put aside my pride and rights of precedence. It shall be more than just Uther's lusts that are sacrificed for this alliance. I pray we can bear the hardship that is coming, for it will weigh heavily on all of us before morning comes again."
Merlin nodded, and the two sat silently, for each was lost in thought. Finally, Uther called to his chamberlain, bidding him send word to Elisedd that the king wished to see him and his daughter. And he called for messengers to deliver his letters to Tintagel Castle.
"Father, I beg of thee, no! I pray thee, do not consign me to such a fate." Igraine's voice was piteous as she beseeched her father. Her face, normally beautiful, was red and raw from her tears, and her magnificent hair was a hopeless, knotted tangle.
"Daughter, stop this foolishness at once. We are bound to do the king's bidding; you know this. He has commanded the betrothal, that if Duke Gorlois accept his alliance, the marriage shall bind the houses in treaty and friendship. Gorlois is to be recognized king. Indeed, my daughter, you shall be a queen, and your son shall rule all of Cornwall. 'Tis a wonderful match, above that which I could have arranged for you."
Igraine whimpered miserably. "But father, there is another who has my heart."
Elisedd turned abruptly and started at his daughter. "What do you mean, daughter? For I have given my blessing to no suitors. Of whom do you speak?"
Igraine was silent, head turned to the window, her watery eyes staring listlessly at the landscape. It was a fine early summer day, and the sun was glistening off of the golden fields. Yet Igraine saw only darkness. They were guests in the castle tower at Caer Guricon, and she looked down by the river, where her family's camp sat just a month before.
"Daughter, you will answer me." Elisedd's tone was more forceful this time.
Without turning to face her father, Igraine spoke softly, barely above a whisper. "Lord Uther, father. It is Lord Uther that I love."
"What has happened? Are not the serving wenches and village girls enough for the young lord's fancies that he must play with the heart of my daughter?"
Igraine turned and looked at her father. "Nothing has happened, father." She tried vainly to hold back more tears. "After Lord Uther visited us in our camp he returned and spoke with me. Three more times he came to see me, and long we spoke. I have his heart as well, father, I know I do."
Elisedd's anger had flash hot, but now it waned, and he walked over to Igraine and put his hands gently on her shoulders. "Igraine, you are my only child. In your eyes I see your mother looking back, bidding me to watch over you. Since she was taken from us, you are all that is left to me, and I have indulged you. Anything would I do for you, yet this is the duty of your station. There is naught either of us can do to change this destiny."
Igraine was silent, though she looked up at him, and in her eyes he saw terrible, aching sadness. He opened his mouth to continue, yet no words would come. Finally, he continued, his voice broken and halting. "My sweet daughter, Lord Uther may not even return, for he is on a perilous journey."
He saw the tears welling up in her eyes again, streaking down her pale cheeks. "I say this not to hurt you, but yet it is truth. Even if Lord Uther should return, naught is the chance that you could be together. For if this alliance is not made it is likely that all of Powys, indeed, all of Britannia, shall be plunged into darkness. Know you Lord Uther well enough that you cannot imagine his father's kingdom falling while he yet lives. No, Uther Pendragon will not outlive defeat. Many would he slay in a hopeless struggle, and yet be overthrown in the end by the multitudes and himself finally slain.
"And even should this not come to pass, no way is there that you could be betrothed to him after we had refused his father's command. Think you King Constantine would consent to the marriage of his son to the daughter of a disobedient and treacherous vassal?"
Finally Igraine spoke, her voice faint but clear. "I beg thee, father, to give me some time alone, for I must make peace with this cruel fate." Her voice was sadness itself.
Elisedd's mouth opened as if he were about to speak, but again, he could not easily find the words. Igraine put her fingers to his lips. "Please, father. I blame you not, nor doubt your love. Please leave me. Just for a short while."
Elisedd paused briefly and then turned to walk away, his face a mask of pain nearly as acute as that his daughter wore. He stepped to the door and stopped momentarily, turning as if to say something else. But he was silent, and after a brief glance back at Igraine, he opened the heavy oak door and walked out into the hallway.
Igraine sat on the edge of the bed, her hand absentmindedly rubbing the soft fur bedcover as she thought. Sure she was that Uther felt the same as she, yet did that matter? For all her father said was true, and indeed, if she refused to marry Gorlois and the alliance faltered, would she be responsible for sending her love to his death in a hopeless war? Uther Pendragon would never yield to an enemy, she was certain of that...not even if she begged him to do so.
Igraine was intelligent, and as a result of her father's indulgence, she was educated as well. Her thoug
hts and desires screamed for release, trapped though they were, for she was also the dutiful daughter of a noble lord. Could she refuse and bring dishonor on her family, and perhaps even punishment and retribution onto her father? Certain she was that no joy or happiness lay in the future King Constantine had decreed for her, only pain and longing for lost love. Yet, she cared more for other things than her own happiness - for her father and family, for the land, which would surely suffer if Cornwall did not join the alliance. And mostly for Uther, her love, who she knew would fight to the death no matter what the odds, for to yield was not in him.
What will happen to father, she thought, for if I obey I will be far away in Cornwall, and he will be alone. Elisedd had never truly recovered from the loss of Igraine's mother, dead these last ten years from a fever which nearly took the daughter as well. He too will go to war, she thought, but if he returns, what joy will be left to him?
She thought of Uther, far away on whatever trail she knew not, and she prayed that he be safe and return unharmed. "Forget me, my love," she said softly to herself, "for fate has played us as fools. Forever shall I love thee, yet together we can never be together, and I would not have you suffer as I do. I pray you find happiness and some woman to love who can give you the sons I now cannot."
She closed her eyes and lay on the bed, for even the will to sit upright drained away from her. On her side she lay, sobbing softly to herself, resigned to her fate yet lost in despair.
Tintagel Castle stood stark and imposing, silhouetted against the red light of the setting sun. A great stone keep, built on the foundations of a ruined Roman coastal fort, Tintagel was the home of Gorlois, Duke of Cornwall. Tintagel was a marvel to behold, a vast fortress rising darkly above the crashing sea. Built upon the cliffs, with water on three sides, Tintagel seemed to mock any who would seek to assail it. Gorlois was known throughout the land, for though not yet regarded a king, he ruled nearly all of Cornwall and had more subjects and commanded more warriors than any monarch of Britannia, save Constantine.
A great procession now approached the castle, moving slowly along the winding road in the fading light of dusk. At the front rode the heralds, carrying the blue and silver banners of House Pendragon, for King Constantine himself was come to visit Gorlois. With him rode Lord Elisedd and his daughter, for Igraine was to be presented to Gorlois as his prospective bride. Also in the party were the counselors of King Constantine and the other monarchs, for the final terms of alliance were to be concluded during this visit. If Gorlois accepted Igraine and the terms of the treaty were agreed upon, the wedding would occur in the spring at Caer Guricon, at which time the grand alliance would come into being.
For half a mile the party stretched, with wagons, servants, and 100 men-at-arms riding two-abreast on the twisting, narrow road. Seventy leagues they had ridden, and they had left Caer Guricon a fortnight before. Their stay would be brief, for though the weather had been fair, fall would soon give way to winter, and Constantine wished to return before the snows came.
The summer had been lost to endless negotiations, with emissaries journeying furiously between Caer Guricon and Tintagel. Gorlois had been difficult, as Constantine and Merlin had foreseen, and the scribes were kept busy recording and revising the many terms of the treaty. Through tireless effort, they had finally drafted a document that all parties seemed like to accept, for Merlin had ceaselessly visited the kings, seeking their agreement. Many respected Merlin greatly for his wisdom and were wont to heed his words. Others feared him as a wizard quick to anger, and this too he used to his advantage. Even Constantine he manipulated somewhat, for though they both sought the same result, Merlin was the more able to ignore grudges and past grievances. Never would he betray Constantine, but his guidance he provided both openly and through subtler means.
When they arrived at Tintagel, the great gates were thrown open, and Gareth, Gorlois' marshal greeted the party, bowing before Constantine and welcoming them with great ceremony. "Greetings to thee, King Constantine, most noble and welcome visitor. And to thy entire party, lords, counselors, retainers...welcome to all."
Constantine flushed with rage, for it was an insult, and a calculated one, for Gorlois not to meet him personally. Merlin foresaw this, and he was next to Constantine when the king was about to speak. "We thank you, Lord Gareth," declared Merlin, cutting off Constantine's pending response. "King Constantine is most anxious to see the duke, for long it has been since they have broken bread together, and he has much to speak of with his new ally."
None but Merlin would have dared interrupt Constantine, and indeed, the king felt a brief rush of anger toward his advisor and friend. But Constantine felt Merlin's gentle touch on his shoulder, and his rage subsided, for he realized what his wise old friend had done. By speaking to Gareth he had preserved Constantine's honor, for Merlin had acted as an intermediary just as Gareth had done for Gorlois, turning back the duke's attempt to place himself above the king. "And now we pray you present us to the duke," Merlin continued, "for far have we traveled to seek his counsel and company."
The royal party was escorted into the keep, where rooms had been prepared for them. They wished to refresh themselves and shed their stained travel clothes, for Gorlois had bid them join him for supper in the great hall. The men-at-arms and servants were billeted with Gorlois' own guards, as there was no room in the main tower for such a multitude.
When they had prepared themselves, they were escorted to the hall. Constantine was clad in a rich blue tunic embroidered with the silver dragon of his house, and on his head we wore the golden crown of Powys. Beside him stood Merlin, wearing a simple gray robe and carrying his staff.
Elisedd walked behind them, attired similarly to Constantine, and at his side was Igraine, wearing a green silk gown that shimmered in the flickering candlelight. Her hair was intertwined with strands of small gemstones, and her beauty was surpassing. This was all the more amazing, for little time had her ladies to prepare her. That beauty was cold, though, lacking its former warmth, and her green eyes had lost their luster. Of old they had sparkled like emeralds, but now they were dead, beautiful still, but more like jade, solid and without depth.
The great hall of Tintagel Castle was a massive room, the timbered ceiling rising 30 feet above the stone floor. A long table had been set up, and standing before it was Gorlois, master of Tintagel and Duke of Cornwall. He was clad in a yellow and green tunic, for these were his colors, and around his neck he wore a great medallion wrought of fine gold. Modest of height was Gorlois, but broad in the shoulders and heavy of build. His face was dominated by a huge and misshapen nose, and a jagged scar ran down the right side from his forehead to his jaw. Long thin strands of oily hair hung irregularly from his large head.
"Constantine, my old friend, it has been far too long since we have broken bread together."
"Indeed, Gorlois, much too long." Constantine ignored the impropriety of the overly familiar greeting.
Gorlois looked approvingly at Elisedd and the striking young woman standing at his side. "And this must be Igraine. She is indeed beautiful, as your counselors have said so earnestly insisted. Perhaps they even understated her loveliness. Lord Elisedd, with your permission, I would have your daughter seated next to me that we may begin to acquaint ourselves. Of course, you will sit with us."
Elisedd nodded his assent. "Of course, Lord Gorlois. Igraine would be most pleased to sit beside you at supper."
Gorlois smiled. "Then let us be seated, for I would be a poor host indeed if I withheld supper from my guests who have traveled so far to see me." He looked to his chamberlain. "Supper is to be served immediately."
Gorlois sat at the head of the table, with Igraine and Elisedd flanking him. Constantine was seated at the far end, with Merlin on his right. To his left sat Gorlois' top counselor, Hugh the White. Constantine was more or less silent during supper, listening as Merlin and Hugh sparred over the final treaty provisions. He smiled to himself, for though Hugh was a wily
and capable advisor, no man got the better of Merlin.
Constantine looked across the table and saw that Gorlois was quite taken with Igraine. He had known the girl since she'd been born, and he knew her to be intelligent and capable. Sadly, he thought, Gorlois would only appreciate her great beauty and ability to give him sons. He found himself wishing that he could have arranged a better marriage for her, for he knew she would have little happiness with Gorlois. Indeed, if Merlin was right and Uther was taken with the girl, she would have made a fine daughter-in-law, and such a wife would have done his son much good. Alas, it could not be so, for fate had intervened and set the girl's destiny. Igraine would seal the alliance in her marriage bed, and nothing could be allowed to prevent that.
Igraine sat next to Gorlois and tried to maintain the smile it was her duty to wear. She had no appetite, and she pushed her food around, eating just enough so no one would notice. Gorlois asked her questions, and she gave him the short and simple answers she knew he expected, for it was clear he was not a man to appreciate a woman's intelligence. Little would he want from her, save her body and his heirs. Such a life would be enough for some, she supposed, for this was a good match, and her son would rule vast lands one day. She thought sadly, should that be enough for me? Am I but a foolish girl to imagine more? She tried to resign herself to her fate, but her heart ached at the emptiness of it all. And try as she might, she could not banish Uther Pendragon from her thoughts.
There have been women, she thought to herself, who have commanded their own fates, and set their own destinies. How many times had she heard the king speak of Galla Placidia? Though Constantine hated the woman and cursed her to hell, it was clear that she'd led her own life, made her own choices. How does one do that, she wondered. For I must betray father and king and country to escape this bitter fate, and indeed, my love Uther would need do the same. Nay, she thought to herself, I cannot betray my family and lord, neither can I allow Uther to do so for me. I shall marry this crude and foul lord and give up hope of happiness in this life.