As a crew unloaded their boat, I recalled how quickly rumor spread among the shipyard workers. With people coming and going from a multitude of kingdoms each day, information was, in many ways, more valuable than the cargo contained in the ships. “Lancelot, I think we have been seeking information in the wrong place. If you were Sobian, would you not maintain your illicit connections?”
He followed my gaze to the boats bobbing in the harbor. “I suppose so. Do you think they know where she is?”
I was already headed toward the door. “There is only one way to find out.”
Sobian’s laughter reached us before she appeared at the top of the gang plank, a bird perched on one arm and a long rectangular box about the length of my arm in their other. She was followed by two men carrying chests and other luggage. For a woman who had lived on the river when she first came into our lives, Sobian certainly had grown accustomed to the lifestyle of being one of Arthur’s highest ranking officials, his head spy. Wherever she had been since before Camlann hadn’t damaged her lifestyle any.
She met us at the bottom of the ramp. “You lured me out here by appealing to my basest instincts. You knew I would not be able to resist solving one more mystery with you.” She took off her leather gloves and handed the hooded falcon to Lancelot as though he was in charge of keeping hunting birds.
“Do you always travel with such creatures?” he asked, struggling to use one of her gloves to shield his wrist from the bird’s talons.
“Only when I feel they might add something to my ability to track the person I seek. You would be surprised what they can be taught. As it does not sound as though I will have time to train one here, I brought one already accustomed to my will.” She placed the box vertically on a stack of crates and opened a door set into one side, revealing a perch made of rope. Carefully, with the tenderness of a mother, she guided the bird from Lancelot’s arm onto the perch, removed its hood, and shut the door.
She held out the box to me, but I motioned to Galen. “This is Galen. He is my”—I still struggled with calling him my slave—“servant. He will see to your needs as well while you are here.”
Sobian looked him up and down in the same appraising manner she had first used on Arthur. A small smile played on her lips as she took in his dark hair, shimmering with silver at his temples and on his chin. His bright blue eyes met hers not with deference, but with equal challenge and equal lust. “I shall enjoy getting to know him.”
The attraction between them was instantaneous and palpable. I leaned over to Lancelot, voice low so that only he could hear. “This will either be the strongest love affair anyone has ever seen or combust in a matter of days.”
“Either way, I think we have just witnessed a meeting of equals.”
I held my arm out to her. “Shall we go back to the castle? I am sure you wish to rest after so long a journey.”
Sobian fell into step next to me, Lancelot following. “No. I feel suddenly invigorated. I would like to hear how you came here and what happened for you to call on me. I hear the sight was involved?” She tapped her forehead.
“It was. But I would prefer not to discuss it in so public a place.”
Sobian entertained us with tales of sailing the Irish Sea until it turned into the North Sea. There she clashed with a fleet of Norse pirates and faced off against the Witch of Orkney, who prophesied she would lose her heart to a man whose father was murdered by a god.
By the time we were settled by the fire and all that remained of the midday meal were crumbs and sticky fingertips, I was beginning to doubt the validity of Sobian’s tales—lying was part of her job after all. But knowing Sobian, every word was probably true. Only she could find such fantastic situations, yet live to brag about them. That was exactly why I needed her. If anyone could uncover Rohan’s motives in time to preserve the peace, it was her.
As though she could hear my thoughts—and I often suspected she could—Sobian said, “So tell me about this prophecy of yours.”
When I had finished recounting the day of my marking, all I knew about Rohan, and that I needed someone to get close to him, Sobian stretched and slowly gave into a languorous grin. “This sounds like your most fun assignment yet. I accept. Do you think he’d take me for training at the fort?”
“No. Our approach can’t be so direct.” I stirred the fire with a poker until it hissed sparks. “We need him to accept you into his confidence, to trust you. He would never spill his secrets to one of his men—even if she was a woman.”
“Sounds like I’ll be playing a prostitute again.” She considered the idea, watching the newly stoked flames.
“Actually, infiltrating a brothel not far from the barracks wouldn’t be difficult,” Lancelot said. “One hears all sorts of rumors in a house like that….”
Sobian sighed. “You may work wonders with horses, Lancelot—and please do not be insulted by this—but for a renowned warrior, you know so little about so many things. That is too obvious. Plus, a man like Rohan doesn’t need an average whore. I need to be irresistible, someone whose position and beauty are useful to him.”
“You already have the beauty part down,” Galen observed.
Was it my imagination, or did Sobian blush? I had never seen her flush once the whole time I’d known her.
“Let’s step back for a moment,” I said. “If we’re right and Rohan wishes to overthrow Evina, he first has to best Morcant and me. He needs power, wealth, and position to do that. He can either gain those through war or marriage, and we know he favors the latter because he has been trying to woo me. What if we give him a more attractive option?”
All eyes fell on Sobian.
She raised an eyebrow. “You mean I get to play a noble this time, instead of your lady’s maid?” She made a gesture of happiness.
“Not just any noble,” Lancelot said, picking up on my line of thinking. “You need to be a relative of Morcant, one who promises to enrich her husband greatly.”
“His kingdom is so close to the Pictish border that I have no doubt he has some woad-covered by-blow. Why can’t you be one?” I winked at Sobian. “I know Morcant from his visits to Camelot. I think I can get him to agree. After all, if it means unmasking a traitor in his midst and possibly strengthening his alliance with Evina, he has nothing to lose.”
Galen cleared his throat and caught my eye. “If I may interject?”
“Galen was not always a servant,” I explained, having forgotten Sobian didn’t know the sordid tale of how we had known one another. I would have to fill her in soon, but now was not the time. “He was once a noble who was very good at getting others to believe exactly what he wished them to.” I narrowed my eyes at him and twisted my lips, remembering how deep his subterfuge had gone. “Then he crossed the wrong person. A life of slavery is his punishment.” I turned back to Galen. “Go on.”
He cleared his throat again, more anxious at addressing Sobian than I’d ever seen him. “Forgive me, kind lady, but you are not from here and are unfamiliar with our customs. If you are to do as you say, you will need a translator at the very least, and a guard at the most. I hear tell you can defend yourself, but Rohan will not know that. If you will allow me, I can provide a cover for you.” He looked up at me, as if just remembering he would need my permission. “That is, if Guinevere will allow it.”
I nodded.
Sobian eyed him again, brow wrinkling and lips pursing as she considered her options. “I usually prefer to work alone, but you make a valid point.”
“You don’t happen to speak the Pictish tongue, do you?”
Sobian proceeded to ask him in their language how he thought she’d faced down the Witch of Orkney if she could neither understand nor speak to her.
“Don’t underestimate her skill with languages. She’s like one of those rare birds that can imitate any of its kin,” I said. “Galen, I suppose you speak it a
s well?”
“I do, lass. I knew a bit of it when we were young, but when Isolde sold me back to my people, I was forced to learn it while working in a mine in Dalriada. But that’s a story for another day.”
I looked at Sobian. “Well, then. Now all we have to do is create your new identity and arrange to have you visit your ‘father.’”
“And paint her skin with woad,” Galen added, a task his prurient grin hinted he would gladly volunteer to take from me.
Chapter Twelve
Spring 521
My name was being whispered in the wind. It tickled my hair, brushed my skin like a feather, and sometimes, it woke me in the night, pressing into my mind like a probing lover. Sobian was still in Morcant’s capital of Dùn Breatann, but I didn’t need her network of fishermen and sailors to know my name slithered through the waterways too. My name was attached to a word that could condemn as easily as it could seduce—insurrection.
Treason found me on an ordinary spring morning, shortly after Beltane, sparring with Kiara and our students in the Stirling barracks south of my holding. Like a dog whose scent I thought I’d lost back in Camelot, it came bounding through the gates in the person of Nachton the Huntsman. My conflicted heart did not know whether to leap at seeing a friendly face or dread hearing the news he brought from the surrounding countryside. Since my arrival in Stirling, Nachton had become my favorite and most trusted informant.
He bowed low before us, but would not meet my eyes. He kept his gaze on his shoes while fidgeting with his cap. “My lady, I dare to interrupt your instruction only because I bear news of great import.”
Kiara and I exchanged a worried glace. Without a word from me, she rounded up the children and led them inside.
Once we were alone, I said, “You look like you ate a bowl of worms. Your news cannot be that dire unless someone is dead. Spit it out.”
His words tumbled over one another in a rush as though he could contain them no longer. “A contingent of Selgovae, Votadini, and Venicones have banded together in your name west of Din Eidyn, near Velvniate. They seek to overthrow Rohan and install you as ruler of both Stirling and Alt Clut.”
“What?” His image winked in and out of view as I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what he said.
Nachton nodded so vigorously, he nearly bowed. “’Tis true, my lady. They took over the fort in your name. My brother in Carriden confirmed the movement has spread to this side of the wall. He predicts that within a fortnight, insurgents will be proclaiming you Votadess from here to Dùn Breatann.”
“What?” I said again, still stupefied.
I shook my head, eyeing Nachton closely, certain this was a prank, an elaborate jest I failed to appreciate. It had to be. We’d long known the people favored my rule over Rohan, but short of John’s jest that he would join my army any day and occasional prodding from Lancelot, no one had dared openly suggest I raise my station, much less engage in open sedition.
Kiara returned to my side. “Who is calling you Votadess?” Her voice was as light and inconsequential as though she were speaking of the direction of the wind rather than high treason.
I held up a hand, forestalling Nachton’s answer. On the tail of a deep breath, I explained. “Nachton is under the delusion that a rebellion is taking place in my name to the south.”
Kiara studied him, running a finger across the braids holding back her golden hair. She pursed her lips and cocked her head. “It’s possible.” Her eyes went distant with thought, then she snapped her fingers. “I know who may be able to tell us.”
She disappeared into the fort commander’s quarters.
“You can answer this easily, though the only question is in your own mind,” Nachton said. At my puzzled expression, he added, “What use is the sight if you don’t employ it?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. I never liked using my gifts except under absolute necessity. It wasn’t that we were forbidden from using them—Morgan did every chance she got before she converted to Christianity—but it had always felt to me as though I was taking advantage of the gods. However, given that Evina would have my head if what Nachton said was true, perhaps it was wise to make an exception.
Tossing aside the practice sword I still held, I sank onto a hay bale and closed my eyes. At first, the whistling of the wind through the pines was all I perceived, but as I willed my inner vision southward, the whistling became a snapping and I saw a rough blue flag with a crudely drawn crowned white horse at its center flying high above the fort. They were flying my standard.
Willing myself free of the sight, I struggled to breathe, each gasp too fast and too shallow. There was no going back now. I was involved in a war of the people, like it or not. My hands shook. I buried them in my skirts, but it was too late to hide my distress.
Kiara returned. “The commander says he has heard the same. We had a messenger this morning from Caimlan who told him of the unrest.”
I sighed, all the strength draining from my limbs. “That means Evina will know soon as well.” Her steely glare flashed before my eyes, turning my stomach to lead. Even from several days’ distance, I could feel her wrath. I stood and motioned for them to follow me. “Come, come, we must discuss this with Lancelot and Anna. We must devise a solution before this becomes unmanageable.”
“If it is not already,” Nachton whispered ominously.
Longing for Avalon and the labyrinth Arthur had built for me at Camelot, I carved out for myself at the center of my new home a sanctuary of another sort, a small room in which I could meet privately with Lancelot and dear advisors of my choosing. The room itself was small, dimly lit by a single window that faced the rushing river below and a dozen or more flickering candles. There was no fire, so as the sun dipped below the purple mountains, turning the river to liquid bronze, we hugged our cloaks about us.
It was there that Galen, Lancelot, Anna, and I discussed what could not be spoken anywhere else in the kingdom, lest we find our heads on pikes outside Din Eidyn. My younger self would have focused on the why, wondering why I was being used this way yet again and wailing at the injustice of it all. In my mind, I snickered at her, knowing now the only question that mattered was what we were going to do about those who sought change in my name.
I took a deep breath, pacing the circumference of the small room. “I will not kill the rebels to silence them, so we can forget that option straight away. I suppose I must choose whether to try to tamp them down and convince them to pledge allegiance where it should be—to Rohan and Evina—or to be the beacon they seek.” The weight of such a decision threatened to bow me once and for all. I sank into a chair.
“Here is how I see it,” Lancelot said, rubbing his cheek wearily. “After Camlann left a gaping void in the succession, the world as we knew it ended. All the rules were erased, gone with the souls of the wise rulers who died that day. Now we are living in a world where young fools reign, in their hubris thinking themselves wise.” He sipped a tankard of ale Kennon had supplied us with before retiring for the night. “I’m not saying we always know best, but at least we have the wisdom and experience to know right from wrong. I asked around today, and most of the people who back you are the sons and daughters of your generation, those who look up to you as their only remaining mother.”
I shivered. Not long after my babies died, I’d vowed to be a mother to my people. Now they were asking me to lead them. Who was I to say no simply because I was tired? When did my mother ever ignore a single one of my cries, even when she could barely open her eyes long enough to tend to me? My people needed me, and I had a responsibility to scoop them up, dry their tears, and do what I could to make everything better once again.
“There is good reason they feel that way,” Anna added with a small tut of disapproval at those currently ripping the country apart in their quest for power. “And I say this as one of the ruling class. But I am also a Votadi
ni, and I have seen the results of my peers’ actions. We nobles have abused our power for too long, and it is the country that suffered. I fear Evina and Mynyddog will be no better. Our country has gone from a patchwork of tribes to cowering under Roman rule, only to be abandoned then split asunder by more rulers in more formations than can be counted. Arthur attempted to stitch us back together. You can continue his work. We need someone who can call upon the power of the elements, upon the earth herself, to make us whole again. Rohan, Evina, and Mynyddog fear you because they know you can lead us and that your collective power is greater than all their commands ever will be.”
I had to admire Anna. Logic like that was why Arthur was wise to put his sister in charge of Lothian so many years ago, after her husband had attempted to overthrow him. Anna was a born statesman with a strong knowledge of history and a gift for flattering words. Many times she had advised me over the years like the mother she should have been, had I married Aggrivane. But this time, I could not allow myself to capitulate to her words so easily, not without serious reflection.
“Anna, I don’t think—”
“I know you don’t want to listen to me, but please at least hear me with an open mind. What you do beyond that is on your soul. Balance needs to be restored. We need someone to be the sutures binding us back together or we may bleed to death. You can do that. You are both them and us, the old and the new, the threshold. The people are scared, but so are the rulers. They fear that one day the people will rise up against them. Well, that day has come. That is why the people are asking you to lead.”
I sat back in the chair, rubbing my temples. “I hear you. I understand your argument.” I let out a forceful breath. “I simply do not know if I can do this again. I was a younger woman, full of drive and ambition, the first time around. Now… now, I just want peace.”
Galen smirked. “No doubt you meant for yourself, but you just admitted you share the same goal as the people who call upon you to lead them. All they want is peace. If they thought the current Votad and Votadess could give them that, they would not have left their fields and their planting.” Galen patted my hand. “You may fancy yourself helpless, but you are nae. You nae’ver have been. You have options, more than you realize.”
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