Chapter 2
"Father!" I yelled and attempted to proceed toward the attackers.
Elibel grabbed my sleeve, holding me back. With the ruckus ahead of us, and our position at the edge of the treeline, we had not been spotted and Elibel edged us backwards into a more concealed position. But a flurry of screeches emitted from Aethelwine again, his head craning backwards, and we spun around at his warning.
Over a dozen horsemen approached from the opposite direction. The beat of hooves increased, deafening as they grew nearer. All wore armor and bore shields enameled with a gold cross overlaid with a crimson dragon. But unlike the warriors that lay siege to Camelaird, their attire bore the progressive influence the Romans left in their wake after they retreated from our lands, signaling these riders as a different army—whether allied with Melwas' force or against, I did not know.
Reaching for Elibel, I pulled her close, positioning her behind me. This time she allowed my protective grip without as much as a flinch.
Their leader skidded to a stop in front of us, his black steed prancing under his command. His gold trimmed helmet shone in the sunlight while the matching plume danced along with his mount's movement. An iron breastplate, also detailed in gold, was held in place by elaborate shoulder clasps and a belt buckle that was molded into dragon scales. Chain mail stuck out from underneath the protective plate, which covered the man's arms down to his iron gauntlets. The hilt of a finely wrought sword, crafted with swirling, ancient designs, peered over an ornate scabbard that was fastened across his back. He hoisted his helmet off his head, revealing ringlets of golden hair. The spirals caught the sun's rays and glimmered as vibrantly as his helmet had moments ago. Elibel released an intake of breath behind me; I thought she would swoon at the beauty of him.
The man's azure-colored eyes brightened with recognition as he scrutinized me, making me twinge with discomfort since I could not identify him. His smile flashed as sharply as his eyes. The warrior had an air about him—of one who knows he is good looking, and uses that fact to his advantage.
The others in his retinue followed suit, removing their headgear as their leader had done, all except one, who remained obscured by his helmet. The mysterious knight pulled back on his reins, forcing his dapple gray destrier backwards until he stood at the end of the group. Unlike the others who donned breastplates, he wore lamellar; it covered his chest, shoulders and arms. His armor shone, as if just polished, and caught the sun's beams, casting a golden glow around him. For some unfathomable reason, I could not tear my eyes away from the knight. I examined him with curiosity, wondering why he hid his face, until their leader spoke and recaptured my attention.
"King Melwas brought insurance incase King Leodegrance refused his offer of betrothal to your Ladyship." The leader's voice boomed as if he was used to directing crowds of men.
His confidence caught me off guard and I choked on my words, unable to reply.
Elibel aided me by asking, "What do you mean, sir?"
She added a flurry of batted lashes as she spoke, which somehow managed to enhance her beauty and draw attention to the largeness of her eyes. If I tried such an obvious act of flirting, I'd look as if I had some unsightly spec stuck beneath my lid.
Their leader's smile broadened at Elibel, inspiring another wave of my cousin's coy glimpses. His glance sped over her curves as if attempting to hide his obvious examination and subsequent appreciation of my cousin's figure, yet he directed his statement towards me. "Since Lady Guinevere's father did not honorably give King Melwas her hand in wedlock, he seeks to take it by force."
How could that be?
I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing well my title held the key to kingship in these lands. Though my father had given way to Christianity long before my birth, Britons in this area still honored the matrilineal rights of nobility. Since I had no brothers or cousins to contest the rules of the old ways, my position assured any man who married me the right to rule Camelaird. If not traded for the privilege by my father, conquered and forced would work just as well. Though one never spoke of such things, when the Romans had occupied our lands, the Druids and their brethren had gone into hiding for fear of abolishment from their oppressors. After the Romans left, our men grew emboldened by the new thought that kingship could be obtained in battle and passed from father to son, as their Roman occupiers had taught them before abandoning their posts, and King Melwas seemed no exception. Melwas' position on the subject confused me, though, since the Summer Lands had ancient connections to the old ways. I had assumed King Melwas honored those traditions.
Anger welled inside of me, forcing its way into my chest as if arrows pelted my insides. My mind disengaged from its ability to form words and I swiveled toward the army spread before Camelaird. Aethelwine crouched on my hand, as willing and as unable to take flight as I was. I forced a step toward the warriors that lay siege to my father's fortress.
"Guin, you cannot approach those soldiers," pleaded Elibel.
Finally, I found my voice; it cracked as I spoke. "I cannot leave Father to face a siege alone. Maybe I can reason with this King Melwas."
The leader of knights laughed—a noisy, obnoxious sound that assaulted my ears. Then he continued in a more compelling tone, "King Melwas is not a reasonable man, proven by his army. He seeks to take you to lay claim to the crown and rule in his own accord. You cannot give over to him, My Lady. You are exactly the prize he desires."
I whirled on him; the fire rose in my blood, forcing my words out without thought. "And who are you to tell me what to do?"
"I," he said, tipping his chin down in scant acknowledgment of my status, "am Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot."
Betrothal (Queen’s Honor, Tales of Lady Guinevere: #1), a Medieval Fantasy Romance NOVELLA Page 2