by test
Lady Pendragon
By
Marly Mathews
LADY PENDRAGON MARLEY MATHEWS 2
© copyright by Marley Mathews, March 2010
Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, March 2010
ISBN 978-1-60394-416-8
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
LADY PENDRAGON MARLEY MATHEWS 3
Prologue
The Kingdom of Callywith
Cornwall, 510 AD
Thunder rumbled through the rugged landscape, as lightning shot across the sky.
Princess Mary Pendragon was led down the stone steps out into the castle courtyard. She was cousin to the young King Arthur, and was destined for his court at Tintagel Castle. A sudden shiver ran through her. Her eyes flickered to the darkening sky. Sighing, she pulled her crimson cloak closer around her shoulders.
Her mother bent down to lay a gentle kiss on her brow, and then cupped Mary’s face in her hands.
“Dearest Molly,” she said, with fervor ripe in her voice. Molly was her mother’s pet name for her.
Mary jumped when another fire bolt bombarded the castle near to where they stood.
Debris of stone mortar fell around them, and her mother pulled her close to shield her from the wreckage. They were under attack. Worse yet, her father’s forces were quickly falling beneath the brutal onslaught of the enemy. Time was scarce. Soon, the stories of their stunning defeat would ring through the kingdom. But there was still hope.
There was Arthur.
“You must ride on Wind Spirit as if the hounds of Hades are plaguing you. Do not halt for anything,” Queen Mildred advised. Her lyrical voice became soft. Tears stung Mary’s eyes.
She locked gazes with her mother. Her mother’s eyes quickly filled with tears.
Mary did not want to leave. She couldn’t abandon her mother to the darkness. It would take hours to reach Arthur. Days, if he had already not set out for Callywith. She could not abandon her mother.
She would not.
“Come with me, Mama,” Mary murmured, feeling despair rush through her.
How could it have come to this point? An acrid smell wafted over to her. Death. Too many warriors had already met their maker. Her mother could not be one of the many!
At twelve years of age, Mary was an accomplished horsewoman, but she was still afraid to leave Castle Anwyn.
“You can not stay here, my love. The dark riders from the South have overtaken us, and Arthur’s knights shall not reach us in time. You should be able to rendezvous with Arthur’s troops. You do remember what your cousin looks like, do you not?” Queen Mildred asked.
Desperation filled her voice and her eyes widened in fear. “We don’t have much time…you must get to safety. “
Frenzied shouts and urgent cries rang out around them: the sounds of men dying. Mary’s heart fell. Even if her cousin did come to her kingdom’s aid, how would he be able to fight the darkness, if her father’s warriors could not? There were evil otherworldly forces at work here.
They needed Arthur’s wizard, not Arthur. For how else could they combat dark magic and expect to win?
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“Of course, I remember him. How could I not? He has hair the color of soot, and his eyes are a most disconcerting grayish color. His eyes always sparkle almost as if he thinks I’m a great jester. “
Her mother frowned, and then a wistful smile touched her lips.
“My dearest child, you are too impish for your own good,” Mildred breathed. But Mary could see that she had been amused. The corners of her mother’s mouth twitched, and if their circumstance had not been so grave, Mary knew her mother would have already erupted into gales of mirth-filled laughter.
“But you will heed Arthur’s advice, and counsel. He is our High King, and he will be your guardian when you reach Tintagel Castle. You will be his little girl. “
“I am twelve years of age; I do not want to be his little girl. I am your daughter,” she pointed out, jutting out her chin.
“I can not leave your father, my sweeting. I shall not see another sunrise, but you will daughter. I have had a vision. You will grow into a comely woman, and you will live for many, many more years, more than you can possibly imagine. When you reach Tintagel, a powerful man named Merlin shall seek you out. And you, dear child, shall become his student. Merlin shall teach you many things, that I will never have the chance to instruct you in. He will teach you about my people, and their mystical ways.“ Mildred hugged Mary to her breast once more, and rained wet kisses all over her face.
Mary considered her mother’s words. She knew that her mother came from an ancient distant branch of the Celts. She also knew that her mother was as fearsome a warrior, as her father, King Llewellyn.
But she would not go to Arthur. She disliked the man. He always wanted to hug her and his bristly beard annoyed her to no end. He teased her about her coppery mane of curls, and always called her his wee lass. Well, she wouldn’t take any of it. She would stay at Anwyn Castle where she belonged.
A fat tear-shaped raindrop fell onto her upturned forehead, and despite her mother’s words to the contrary, she hoped she would see her again. Despite her hope, a deep foreboding lodged in her throat.
She reached up to kiss her mother, and then looked over her mother’s stooped form at the full moon. A hazy red glow encircled it, and she knew that blood on the moon always foretold bad tidings. Shivering, she placed her foot in the stirrup, as her mother gave her a helpful boost.
“Remember, my dear, run with abandon, but pray take care,” Mildred advised, swallowing Mary up with her somber dark eyes.
“I shall, Mama. I shall see you in a fortnight, at the Summer Solstice,” she said with conviction.
Her mother gave her a faint smile; gradually, her mother’s eyes filled with resolute determination.
“Farewell, Molly,” Mildred murmured.
Mary gently kicked her white stallion into a canter and darted a longing glance back at her mother.
Then, with heightened urgency, she gave the command for an all out run. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see dark figures breaking past her father’s last lines of defense. It was over. The only thing she could do was to hope to seek out Arthur.
Mayhap, he could save her kingdom; if any of it remained after the enemy forces burned their way through.
LADY PENDRAGON MARLEY MATHEWS 5
Wind Spirit lived up to his name. In a matter of minutes, he had galloped to the edge of her father’s land. She darted one last glance at her childhood home. Thick mist enshrouded Castle Anwyn. A shiver ran up and down her spine. Her ears twitched when a haunting melody carried to her on the wind. She swallowed. She focused her eyes on the path ahead as scenery blurred past her. Change was in the air. She could only hope that it was change for the better.
As long as Wind Spirit kept up a furtive pace, she would be out of the borders of her father’s kingdom by dawn’s first light. The kingdom of Callywith was not far from Arthur’s kingdom of Camelot.
Mary felt as if she had been riding for days.
From out of the wilderness, she heard the concerned shouts of men in the distance. A hunting horn sounded, just as she slumped in her saddle. Before she fell, strong welcoming arms enfolded her. She felt scratchy bristle against her cheek, and heard her cousin’s soft murmuring.
When he called her his wee lass, she wanted to smack his face, but she was just too ti
red.
Her eyelids drooped shut, and she succumbed to dreamland.
* * * *
Tintagel Castle, 516 AD
Molly shared a chuckle with Adria. Dipping her head back into the afternoon sunlight she focused her gaze on the two shimmering grand swords that lay on the large stone in front of her.
“They look like Excalibur,” she remarked, tossing her head thoughtfully. With the slight movement, her thick copper plait fell forward and thumped onto her breast.
“Aye, they do,” Adria agreed, her dark long hair fluttering in the gentle breeze. Adria turned her brilliant green eyes on Molly.
Molly gave her an affectionate smile and moved so that they would be shoulder to shoulder. She draped one arm across Adria’s shoulder, and pulled her close.
“Mayhap, we shall be the next Knights of the Round Table,” she jested.
Adria let out a loud and prolonged snort. “And mayhap, I shall be Queen of Ely,” she remarked sarcastically, referring to the small English Isle that she hailed from. “With my uncle and his brood of disgusting boys, I highly doubt that will happen. “ Adria sat down on the dry green grass and folded her legs beneath her. “We must face the world head on, Molly. King Arthur would never allow women to sit at his round table…not as knights, and not as witches. “
She sighed. Sadness creased her brow.
Adria had been Molly’s friend ever since Adria had come to Tintagel four years ago. Her father and mother, the King and Queen of Ely, had been killed when a deadly fever had swept the Isle.
Now, she was the closest thing Molly had to a sister, and like Molly, Adria was a princess without a kingdom.
“Merlin must plan to make us warriors. What else could he be training us for? He has instructed us in the way of white magic…and in the way of combat…to become a man’s chattel now…would waste all of our training,” Molly continued, thoughtfully tilting her head to one side. She grinned, and raised her hand. Colorful fireworks shot up into the sky out of it.
“Oh, do stop that,” Adria chastised. “You know how Merlin is when we use our magic unsupervised. He told us to only use our magic, if we were on the Isle of Avalon, or in another LADY PENDRAGON MARLEY MATHEWS 6
magical realm. If anyone saw you, they would be horrified. They would pronounce our magical ways of being the bidding of the devil. “
A large looming shadow fell over them, blocking the sun’s rays. Molly quickly swallowed; the multi-colored fire turned into pure blue fire and slowly drained away from her hand.
She didn’t need to look behind her shoulder; she already knew who stood there.
“Good morrow, Father,” she murmured, using the name that Arthur had consistently insisted upon, once she had gotten over her parents’ deaths.
In truth, she hadn’t mourned her own papa that much, as he had always been busy fighting and practicing with his warriors, to take any notice of his mere girl-child.
Since Molly wasn’t sprawled across the grass as Adria was, Arthur pulled her back against his broad chest.
“Have you seen Lady Gwenhwyfar today?” he asked. Wrinkling her brow, she turned and rested her flat palms across his chest.
“No, I have not,” she declared succinctly, tilting her head thoughtfully to one side. “She could be down by the riverbank, you know how she delights in bathing nude,” she remarked dramatically. Adria made an odd choking noise. “Well, she does. I’ve seen her with my own eyes, and it was a ghastly sight, if you would wish to know. “ She shuddered.
Arthur’s rich laughter boomed across the landscape, and she craned her neck to look up into his eyes. They glittered merrily.
“Ah, my daughter,” he said, as the well-worn laugh lines at his eyes crinkled once more.
“You never fail to entertain me. “ He grinned and wiped at the tears that had trickled down his cheeks.
Molly harrumphed indignantly, and crossed her arms.
“I heard about the new knight, Sir Lancelot, isn’t it?” she asked curiously. Slowly, she moved away from Arthur and began gravitating toward the large stone. If she were lucky, he’d be able to tell her whom the swords were meant for.
“Aye,” Arthur answered thoughtfully, winking playfully at Adria, who beamed back at him. “Why are you so curious?” he shot back, settling himself on the grass beside Adria.
Molly rolled her eyes. If anyone saw the great warrior, King Arthur, sprawled out as if he were a little boy, next to his daughter and her friend, they would most surely be dumbstruck.
But she loved Arthur, more than she would ever be able to say.
Finally, she stood next to the swords, hoping that Arthur would make some comment about them, but he merely gave her a lazy grin and plucked some wild violets from the grass.
“Tell me about Sir Lancelot,” she eagerly invited.
Arthur sighed heavily, and his face sobered. But he always indulged her, and she knew that soon she would have all of the information she wanted.
“He is a man of great strength and skill, and all of the ladies swoon when they are around him. Merlin tells me the Lady of the Lake raised Lancelot and he bears a sword less powerful than Excalibur but made by the same kind of magic. My knights tell me, that the bards shall write ballads about him,” Arthur muttered, unconsciously scrunching the dainty violets between his thumb and forefinger.
“Father,” she gasped in horror.
He suddenly realized what he had been doing, and he stared up at her sheepishly.
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“Good heavens,” he exclaimed, “I suppose I was not paying attention,” he whispered, dragging his gaze away from the crushed violets, to stare in the direction of the grand lake, which they sometimes referred to as The River.
“I shall go and see if Lady Gwenhwyfar is by the lake,” Molly rushed out, feeling an uneasy sensation take hold of her.
If Arthur were made to wait much longer he may just be inspired to go and investigate on his own.
“Pray, wait here,” she begged. She dashed over the hills past some rowan trees and then slowed her pace when she came to the edge of the riverbank.
“She isn’t a lady, she is my queen,” Arthur called after her, causing Molly to snort indelicately.
In truth, she hadn’t wanted to be reminded of that fact. Lady Gwenhwyfar did not deserve the royal title, nor did she deserve to have Arthur as her husband.
Molly stood on the embankment and let a silent oath pass her lips. She caught sight of Sir Lancelot, or at least she thought it was Sir Lancelot, for she did not recognize him, and she knew all of Arthur’s knights.
Sir Lancelot was struggling desperately to impale the water beast, which had risen from the lake. The beast had Lady Gwenhwyfar held tight in his massive paws, and Gwen was so frightened that no sound came from her berry stained lips.
Drawing her magic to her, Molly flew down the embankment and ignored the utterly stunned look Sir Lancelot gave her.
Summoning her blue fire, she let it rip out at the beast that resembled a Celtic Dragon. It howled with pain, and dropped Gwenhwyfar, whom she caught in her magical hold.
She brought Gwenhwyfar over to her, and the woman sank into Molly’s welcoming embrace.
“Thanks be to the Goddess,” Gwenhwyfar muttered. Molly bit her lower lip, and awkwardly patted the woman’s golden head.
By now, the ruckus had attracted Arthur and Adria who came scrambling down the embankment toward them.
“Oh, my stars above,” Adria breathed. The dragon puffed hot air through its massive nostrils.
Eagerly, Molly gave the shocked Gwen to Arthur, and then pushed up her sleeves, preparing to continue her battle.
Instead, the crimson colored dragon began changing form and in its place stood a smiling Merlin.
“My dear child, you have passed the trial,” he murmured, grinning from ear to ear. Adria skipped down to stand beside Molly. Merlin nodded his head at Adria and murmured, “And you dear girl, passed the trial last sennig
ht when your male cousins were visiting. You never used your magic once, even when they were teasing you senseless. “ He winked fondly at Adria.
“But you Princess Mary, you were my biggest concern. I needed to know that you would set aside whatever thoughts or notions you had of Lady Gwenhwyfar, if her life were in grave peril. “
A woman’s beautiful figure emerged from the sparkling depths of the water, and Molly instantly recognized her as The Lady of the Lake and Queen of the Water Faeries on Earth.
Lady Vivienne smiled affectionately at Molly and Adria, and Molly’s mouth gaped open slightly as she stared at Lady Vivienne’s glorious beauty. Her flawless skin glowed with purity, and her LADY PENDRAGON MARLEY MATHEWS 8
deep blue eyes were full of love. It was as if Molly gazed upon a heavenly creature. Vivienne’s glamour was so brilliant that it nearly brought Molly to her knees.