Conquest Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Morgan had not been mistaken about the snow returning after its initial appearance. A few days after his run-in with Nimue the snow began to fall in earnest. Arthur awoke to find at least two feet of snow covered the land as far as he could see from his bedroom window.

Morgause rarely left her room despite Arthur’s best efforts to draw her from her shell. Arthur suspected that his questions regarding her lack of appetite and her relationship with Uther only strengthened her resolve to avoid him. When he got nowhere with Morgause, he decided to wait in the shadows of the corridor leading to her room. He would follow her every move until he knew what was really going on with her.

Three days of surveillance revealed nothing of interest. Arthur had just reached the conclusion that he was a fool for listening to Nimue in the first place when a messenger arrived at Morgause’s door. She accepted the tiny scroll given to her, disappeared inside her room, and then emerged again a few minutes later.

She took only a few steps before she stopped, sensing something amiss, and then looked around.

“Arthur, come out.”

Arthur emerged from the dark, his face hot with embarrassment.

“You’re following me?”

“You haven’t given me another choice, Sister. You refuse to answer my questions about what is wrong with you.”

“There is nothing—”

“Morgause, please! Stop lying. It’s an insult to my intelligence. You used to be happy and…well…a lot fuller in figure than you are now.”

“You mean I was fat?”

“Hardly,” Arthur said. “You were lovely. Now you look drawn and pale, your skin is like paper, you’ve wasted down to bones. Are you ill? Have you fallen under some sort of curse?”

“No, none of those things. Arthur, if I could tell you what upsets me I would. I cannot, so please, let me have this one secret. I do this as much for you as I do for Morgan.”

“Do what for me?”

Familiar footsteps interrupted Morgause just as she opened her mouth to respond. Uther rounded the corner in the hall, a thunderous look on his face. It turned to surprise when he saw Arthur.

“What are you doing here, Arthur?”

“I could ask you the same, Father.”

Uther’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I am the king. I do not explain my actions to you or anyone else. Go back to your room. You will need all the rest you can get.”

“Rest for what?”

“You ride out tomorrow for Letocetum. I want you to seize and secure it. There are almost a thousand knights waiting for you to take command from Sir Kay in the city of Crandyn.”

“Why the hurry? I was under the impression we wouldn’t ride against Letocetum until the spring thaw,” Arthur said.

“I’ve recently received word that Thomas already rides for the border of Letocetum even now, as we speak. He hopes to take the settlement and establish a fort well before the spring thaw. As for you, Morgause, you are late.”

“I was detained,” she answered, keeping her eyes downcast.

“Late for what?” asked Arthur. Nimue had said to keep his eyes open to the truth, but he simply couldn’t reason out what bothered Morgause enough to make her waste away as she had since he’d last seen her.

“She is to be married,” Uther said.

“Morgause, is this true?” Arthur asked in shock.

Morgause nodded.

“Who are you to marry?”

“That can be discussed when you return from Letocetum, Arthur,” Uther interrupted.

“Father, you know how much planning is involved in battle. We haven’t discussed this, we’ve made no plans. You can’t send me off to war with less than twelve hours notice. I could understand if Camelot was under attack but this—”

“I have written instructions and have drawn up the battle plans already. You will have more than enough time to familiarize yourself with them on the way to Letocetum.”

Arthur laughed derisively. “Written instructions? Are you joking?”

In a sudden bout of rage Uther backhanded his son. Arthur had seen it coming and could have easily moved out of the way, but to do so would be an act of open defiance of not only his father, but his king.

“Damn you, boy! I grow weary of your constant questions. I am your father and your king! You will do as I command without question or so help me I will throw you in the dungeon, strip you of your crown, and promote Sir Kay as my heir!”

Arthur tasted blood as he stared at the mad gleam in his father’s eyes. Uther was using anger to hide something. He was also rushing Arthur out the door, kicking him out of the kingdom for all intents and purposes. He was up to something that he didn’t want to have to fight with Arthur about. Knowing Uther it would turn out to be something quite ugly. Arthur just couldn’t fathom what it could be.

“Please, Arthur, go on to your rooms and prepare as best you can. I will not marry until you return, I promise you,” Morgause said.

Arthur bit his tongue to keep from questioning her further. Something was terribly wrong and Arthur suspected his father was forcing Morgause to marry against her will. Who her secret betrothed could possibly be was another question.

“Fine,” Arthur said. He bowed to Morgause and threw his father an angry nod of the head before storming away to his rooms. He would find her before he had to leave for Letocetum the next day and find out exactly what was going on.

*****

Arthur’s plans to interrogate Morgause, to force the truth out of her for her own good, came to nothing. He’d barely finished dressing the next morning before Uther summoned him to the courtyard where his knights waited to ride out with him. His father knew him too well and had made certain he could have no time alone with Morgause.

Outside he found Morgause standing beside Uther, waiting to see him off. Morgan was nowhere to be seen, which was as much out of the ordinary as the rush job Uther was doing to get Arthur out of Camelot.

“You have been well supplied for the arduous journey through the snow,” Uther said. “Your man will make sure to give the plans to you when you make camp tonight. The rest of your forces wait for you in the clearing just outside the city. Safe travels, Arthur.”

“Brother,” Morgause said.

“Where is Morgan?”

Uther sighed. Another question from Arthur.

“She isn’t feeling well. I think she had some bad duck at dinner last night,” Morgause explained. “She sends her love. I will pray daily for victory and a safe return.”

“Thank you, Sister.”

He pulled her into a hug. She felt frailer than she did when he first arrived. “I’d expected to be home longer than this.”

“So did I.”

“If there is anything you need to tell me, now is the time. I can still set it right,” Arthur whispered so that only Morgause could hear. He was aware of how closely his father watched them.

Morgause hesitated for quite awhile. Arthur was certain she had something to say, something desperately wanted to communicate. In the end her fear of Uther won out and she kept her silence. She squeezed him once more and then whispered something he couldn’t make out.

“What was that?” Arthur asked.

“Nothing,” Morgause said, and stepped away from him. “Godspeed, Arthur.”

“Give Morgan my love,” Arthur said. He kissed his sister goodbye, turned, and then slipped on the steps. He landed hard on his rump, and to everyone’s credit but Gawain, no one laughed. Gawain, on the other hand, enjoyed a full belly laugh at his cousin’s expense.

Everything in Morgan’s dream had now come true.

“That will be quite enough,” Morgause snapped in annoyance.

“Yes, My Lady, quite right,” Gawain sobered immediately.

“Are you all right, Arthur?”

“Oh, he’s fine. Be off with you, Arthur. Make me proud,” Uther said. He put a hand on Morgause’s arm and pulled her back to stand with him. Arthur found that small gesture off. Uther usually did everything he could to keep Morgause from his sight. Now he pulled her close.

“You heard me, Arthur, be off.”

Arthur looked up at his father, Nimue’s words returning to him. Morgause’s resemblance to Igraine has endangered her…

Endangered her how, exactly? Surely his father wouldn’t marry her off to some distant king simply so Morgause wouldn’t be around to remind him of the wife he’d lost. That didn’t explain the unsettlingly intimate manner in which Uther had pulled Morgause closer.

“Arthur?” Percival asked. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

Morgause pulled a disingenuous smile and looked down at her feet.

“Write to me often, Morgause. I will always respond,” Arthur said. He dusted himself off and mounted his horse. Morgause only nodded in return.

Arthur rode out with Percival and Gawain once again at his side, but his mind remained with Morgause and the mysterious predicament she was in. He couldn’t begin to imagine who Uther may plan to marry her off to. He looked up at Morgan’s window. For a moment he thought he saw her pale face, full of horror, before she disappeared.

Arthur chalked it up to a figment of his imagination, and forced himself to ride out on his father’s latest campaign.

 *****

After a week of hard travel Arthur and his men reached the border of Crandyn. They made camp at dark and Arthur couldn’t wait to get his tent set up. The snow had stopped but it was bitterly cold and his men were even more exhausted than he was from the long journey.

Arthur invited Gawain and Percival to his tent for dinner after setting up his tent. He pulled off his cloak and threw it over the back of the pillows that had been thrown on the heavy rug that protected him from the snow covered ground.

“Caesars pants, it’s cold! My balls have shrunk to the size of peas,” Gawain complained. He put another log in the fire pit and then came to the table. “My cock may never come out again.”

The tent would warm up soon and his complaints would cease.

“I weep for every barmaid from here to Camelot,” Percival replied dryly. “What’s that on your cloak, Arthur?”

He reached down and plucked a tiny slip of rolled parchment that was closed with Gorlois’s family crest. A single word was written in small, neat script on the outside of the parchment.

“Let me see,” Arthur said. Percival handed him the scroll and Arthur ran his thumb over the wax seal and read the name written on its side. “Nimue.”

The name had no sooner left his lips than the seal glowed with unnatural light. It lasted a few moments and then faded. Arthur tried to break the seal, to tear it away from the parchment, but it was no good. It was impervious to all attempts to open it, whether by fingers, knife, or fire.

“She enchanted it,” Arthur concluded.

“No, really?” Gawain said with mock surprise.

“Don’t be clever, Gawain. Why would she use you to sneak a message out to Nimue?” Percival asked.

“I don’t know, but there’s something wrong with her.”

He told them about the meeting he had with Nimue in the forest, and about Morgause’s surprise betrothment. He left nothing out, including Morgause’s behavior, as well as her weight loss and the way she’d shut herself up in her room the entire time he’d been home.

“Well, Arthur, arranged marriages happen every day. No one likes them, I’m sure everyone would prefer to marry for love, but they’re not the end of the world,” Gawain reasoned. “Morgause may not like it now, but in time she’ll get used—”

“What if she’s forced to marry a really old, disgusting man who turns her stomach at the mere thought of his touch?”

Gawain nodded his head in acknowledgement of that possibility. “She’ll have to live with it. When Uther makes up his mind he doesn’t back down. You know that.”

“It’s unfortunate. I’m sorry,” Percival said.

“Thank you both for trying to cheer me up, but you have failed miserably, I’m afraid to say. I think we’ll call it a night, my friends. I wish to be alone. Please, take as much food and drink with you as you like. I won’t finish it.”

Once his friends left Arthur extinguished most of the lights and set the tiny scroll Morgause had snuck into his cloak on the rug next to his bedroll. The many blankets and pillows that had been piled up made for a warm, soft bed, but it did nothing to ease him into sleep.

Rather than falling off immediately, Arthur listened to the persistent howl of the wind that blew against the sturdy walls of the tent. Normally the mournful sound of it was enough to chill him to the bone, even when he was wrapped in warm blankets and had the benefit of walls and fire to protect him from it.

Tonight, however, the wind seemed to cry for him, acting as a reflection of the pain that had pooled in his heart like stagnant water. He let the sound of the wind mourn for him and as he did he finally drifted into a deep and dreamless sleep.

When he awoke the next morning, a couple of hours before dawn, he saw Morgause’s note to Nimue was gone.

He wasn’t surprised.

*****

Fierce winds whipped the snow from the ground through the air like a blizzard. Arthur and his men pushed on until they saw Crandyn in the distance. It lay in a valley and was barely visible in the white haze created by the wind. Arthur wondered if this was completely natural or if Thomas’s men had not only taken Letocetum, but had invaded as far as Crandyn and were using magic to make any fighting between his men and Uther’s more difficult.

As Arthur urged his horse to continue he spotted something bright red against the white of snow. Nimue stood on the road before them, dressed in a flimsy, gauzy red dress that was better suited for summer than the start of a bad winter. Wind whipped about her, blowing her hair and dress, though she didn’t shiver. Instead, she frowned at him, her lips looking moist and red rather than dry and chapped from the cold. She waited until he and his men reached her.

“Arthur, I have terrible news of Morgause.”

“Whatever lies you’ve come to—”

Nimue’s hand snaked out and caught Arthur full on the face in a hard slap. He didn’t feel it very well for the cold wind had numbed his face, but he got the message all the same. He attempted to slap her back but his hand somehow missed her, even though they were only a couple of feet apart.

“Listen to me! Morgause will be taken in marriage by—”

“I know that already, and don’t you ever put your hand to me again!”

“Morgause has been promised in marriage by Uther!” she shouted.

Arthur stood there, frozen in shock, uncertain he’d heard her correctly. “What?”

“Uther plans to take Morgause in marriage. He is the one she is betrothed to! It’s all in her note.”

Nimue held the tiny scroll out to him. Despite his intentions to never trust Nimue, if there was even a chance she could be telling the truth about his beloved sister he had to risk it. He took the scroll and read it.

Uther sends Arthur away to war so that he may take me in marriage without incident. I fear if Arthur finds out too soon Uther will arrange his assassination. Save me. I need you now more than ever before.

Morgause

“I don’t believe…”

Arthur tried to deny what was written in his sister’s hand, but he couldn’t. His father’s odd behavior made sense now. Uther had rushed Arthur away, refusing to tell him to whom he intended to give Morgause in marriage…the way he’d pulled her close…Morgause’s loss in weight…her unhappiness and refusal to open up to him.

“Percival,” Arthur said quietly.

“My Lord?” Percival responded, stepping close to him.

“You must return to Camelot and verify this. I have to know if what Nimue says is a trick or if it is the truth.”

“I will leave immediately,” Percival vowed.

“I can help him,” Nimue offered. “I can get him there and back two days.”

“You will not enter the kingdom. No matter what is really going on at home I will not betray my king to you.”

“Even after what he’s done to your sister?” Nimue looked truly shocked. Her mouth hung open unflatteringly.

“If Percival confirms what you have told me as true then I will return to Camelot myself and deal with the situation.”

“Morgause needs me!” Nimue insisted. “She and Morgan were my students. They would want me there.”

“I have spoken, Nimue. If you truly wish to help my sister you will obey my wishes.”

Arthur and Nimue stared at one another, neither of them willing to back down at first. In less than a minute Nimue conceded and bowed her head.

“I will obey out of love for Morgause and Morgan,” she said.

“Thank you.”

“What exactly will you do when Percival confirms this message as truth?” she asked.

Arthur thought that was a very good question indeed. He didn’t have an answer, so he didn’t offer one other than, “I’ll know when—if—that moment comes. Now go. The sooner you leave the sooner you can return.”

“Mount up,” Nimue said to Percival. He jumped back onto his horse and she took the reins. She led the animal off the road and then instructed Percival to lift her into the saddle in front of him. When she did the horse, with Nimue and Percival on its back, rose high into the air and began to run with unnatural speed. They were beyond visibility in seconds. Partly in reason from the swiftness at which they ran, and partly due to the wind and snow in the air.

Hurry back, Arthur thought to himself. He felt sick to his stomach as he led his men onward toward Crandyn, hoping with every step that Percival would find Nimue to be a liar.

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