Gwenhwyfar_ The White Spirit Part 19

And he led her into his palace. Which felt, as the walls closed about her, altogether too much like a prison.

Chapter Twenty.

With a cloth on her lap protecting a fine gown she would rather not have protected at all, Gwen carefully laid in the feathering on another arrow. Much to the horror of her ladies, who were all gathered about her with their fine sewing and bands of embroidery. on her lap protecting a fine gown she would rather not have protected at all, Gwen carefully laid in the feathering on another arrow. Much to the horror of her ladies, who were all gathered about her with their fine sewing and bands of embroidery.

She was beyond caring how scandalized they were. She had already horrified them by laying aside the woolen mantle and tying back the sleeves of her overgown. They s.h.i.+vered in the occasional draft. She was too warm by far. These rooms were heated by means of something they called a hypocaust, a contained fire that sent warm air under the floor. It was as warm as spring in here, although these fragile flowers seemed to think there would be icicles hanging from their noses at any moment. This device was Roman, of course. Arthur was . . . extremely fond . . . of all things Roman.

She laid in another line of glue from the pot on the brazier beside her and quickly laid down the line of fletching.

She was working on arrows because these charming ladies had made it painfully obvious that there was nothing she could sew that they would not have to undo and resew again. She simply was not allowed in the still-room to make medicines. That was the job of a single servant. This exhausted her repertoire of "womanly" tasks. She wasn't going to sit there with her hands in her lap and listen to them giggle and gossip.

So she was, by the G.o.ds, doing something she could could do, and do well. She was making arrows. do, and do well. She was making arrows.

With both sets of vanes in, she took fine thread and bound them at the nock and the end of the vanes, laid the arrow aside to dry, and picked up a new one.

Inwardly, she seethed. Another thing that Arthur seemed very fond of. Roman customs. Such as the custom that confined women to a single section of this villa and kept them, for the most part, from mingling too much with men. Kai was in charge of the household. Not her. He set the menu for the day's meals, he oversaw the chief servants, the housekeeper and the cook, and kept track of and dispensed the stores. She had never seen the cook. The housekeeper pretended not to understand her and went about ordering things in the way she she pleased. Gwen was expected to remain here, in the queen's chambers, until called for. Men were not supposed to come here unless they were servants or entertainers or came with Arthur. pleased. Gwen was expected to remain here, in the queen's chambers, until called for. Men were not supposed to come here unless they were servants or entertainers or came with Arthur. She She was not supposed to mingle with the Companions, except under very supervised conditions, like meals or celebrations. was not supposed to mingle with the Companions, except under very supervised conditions, like meals or celebrations.

She was only at those meals perhaps once every three days, and such meals were as structured as a magic rite. She and her ladies entered the hall after the men; she was seated beside Arthur. There was music, to which Arthur paid careful attention, so that she did not get much conversation from him-but she got contradictory glimpses of both the tired old man and the charismatic leader. She heard maddeningly brief bits that hinted at ideas that were truly visionary. Most of all, she saw how the Companions all virtually wors.h.i.+ped him, and they did so in a way that told her that he had earned that wors.h.i.+p, that it was not the result of some trick of attraction. And then, when the meal was over, they all rose, and she and her ladies went back to the maddening confines of her "bower." The only man that was allowed to come and go as he pleased there was Arthur.

Which he did, precisely, every night. And then went away again to sleep somewhere else.

She knew very well what lovemaking was all about. She hadn't been afraid of it. But she certainly hadn't expected it to be like . . .

. . . like a household ch.o.r.e. Something tedious, to be gotten over with as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Not that he was unkind, and not that he hurt her, except for the first time, and then it was nothing near as bad as some of the milder injuries she'd gotten in training. And for a while she had tried to be at least pleasant pleasant to him. Tried her best to look attractive where she waited for him, made sure that she smelled sweetly, that her breath was good. It was all to no purpose. She was nothing but a not-so-prize mare to him; he just wanted her breeding, so he need not visit her anymore. The Arthur that came to her room was neither the tired old man nor the vividly alive leader that she saw glimpses of at the table now and then. He was . . . like a horse trainer who had no vested interest in the horse he was training. to him. Tried her best to look attractive where she waited for him, made sure that she smelled sweetly, that her breath was good. It was all to no purpose. She was nothing but a not-so-prize mare to him; he just wanted her breeding, so he need not visit her anymore. The Arthur that came to her room was neither the tired old man nor the vividly alive leader that she saw glimpses of at the table now and then. He was . . . like a horse trainer who had no vested interest in the horse he was training.

Making arrows was soothing. She felt in grave need of some soothing.

Was this why the other Gwenhwyfar had run off with Melwas? Because she was so bored she finally could not stand it any longer? At the moment, Gwen could not find it in her heart to blame her.

But that Gwenhwyfar should have been raised and trained to appreciate this life. She should have found the too warm rooms, the endless hours of sewing, the gossip, the idleness appealing. And Gwen had to admit that this villa was wildly luxurious by her standards.

There were no dirt floors anywhere, nor floors covered with rushes. Even the floors in the servants' quarters were tiled, and the ones here were covered with jewel-like mosaics. Her quarters included her own bedroom, her own dining room, rooms for her ladies, this room, which they they called a solar, just for receiving visitors and spending the day with her ladies, and hearing the reports of Kai, the housekeeper, and a few other important servants. Not that she was expected to called a solar, just for receiving visitors and spending the day with her ladies, and hearing the reports of Kai, the housekeeper, and a few other important servants. Not that she was expected to do do anything about those reports . . . anything about those reports . . .

There was even a bathing room just for her and her ladies. And all these rooms surrounded a colonnaded courtyard, in which, she presumed, she would be "allowed" to stroll on the perfectly manicured gra.s.s in fine weather. All she had to do was produce an heir and look, if not beautiful, at least queenly.

It was driving her mad.

The only relief she'd had from this cage was when Gildas had come to talk with her. Presumably, being a Christ priest, he had been "safe." He and Aeronwen had presided over a pair of marriage ceremonies with civility and calm, if not liking. Aeronwen had made her immediate departure. He, however, had stayed for another fortnight, for the weather had turned foul as soon as Aeronwen was gone. She wondered if he suspected the Lady had something to do with that; certainly Gwen did.

Gildas did not care for Arthur; that was hardly surprising, since Arthur had slain his rebellious brother. But for some reason he had taken to Gwen. He had spent many hours in this solar, asking her intense questions about her beliefs, inviting questions from her about his. Arguing cordially with each other. She came to see what it was that made his monks so intensely loyal to him. Under that dour expression was a remarkably sweet temper, and if he was stern, he was also able to forgive readily, even eagerly.

"I think that you will never convince me to leave my path," she told him, finally, "But I am becoming more certain after listening to you that our paths are so near one another as to be identical in many places."

He had looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Opened his mouth. Closed it again.

"There are things that the Ladies cleave to that I find . . . wrong," she admitted. "I will never believe that the G.o.ds and the land require blood be spilled so that both can prosper. Think of all the blood spilled in war-if it were merely blood that was required, the lands that were battlefields should forever be waist deep in lush gra.s.ses and yielding four times the corn of others for all eternity. Yet I have never seen that. The first year after a battle, yes, but that is just logic, since you could get as goodly a harvest spreading manure. But not after."

"And neither have I!" he began, eagerly.

"Wait," she had said, holding up a hand to forestall him from yet another attempt to persuade her to his way of belief. "Aside from that, now I must look to the followers of both our G.o.ds. Your own G.o.d has said that one knows the tree by the fruit it bears. Those people that heed the Druids and the Ladies, I see to be not much different from those that follow Christ. There are liars and thieves among both, kindly, honorable and wise among both, virtuous and vile in equal measure. Can you refute that?"

He had looked as if he would have liked to, but he admitted that he could not.

"So our peoples are not so very different. Their hearts are not so different. So-" she shrugged. "Since it is the G.o.ds that rule men's hearts, it follows that your G.o.ds and mine are not so different. It seems to me that the faces we put on them have more to do with ourselves than with them."

He had looked at her with such astonishment on his face that she'd had to laugh. Eventually so did he, and gracefully he had turned the talk to more questions about the Folk of Annwn, about whom he was as curious as an eager child.

But now he was gone, and there was nothing to make one day different from the next. She rose after sunrise. She ate. She heard what the cook would be making. She approved it. She came to the solar, to be surrounded by these fatuous women, and tried not to die of boredom. She ate. Then back to the solar. Or every other day, a bath.

And not the efficient sort of bath she was used to, no indeed. This was a bath that took up an entire afternoon. First, she was ushered into an even warmer room, a bath in the Roman style but reserved for her and her women. This was, she was told, almost atop the furnaces that put warmth beneath the floors, and it was full of steam. There she put up with being washed with soap and cloths-as if she could not even wash herself!-and rinsed with jugs of warm water, which ran away into a drain in the floor. Then her hair was pinned up on the top of her head, and she was led like a dotard into a second room, where there was a pool-a pool!-of steaming hot water. All the ladies soaked in it together, occasionally going to a tub of cooler water, only to return to the hot one. And there they would gossip, gossip, gossip and talk of nothing but trivialities. She heard nothing of what was going on in the greater world, only endless details of dresses and love affairs. The few times she actually heard anything that did did sound worth listening to, it turned out to be so distorted as to be incredible. Then, when she was sure she was going to fall asleep from boredom or the heat, came the drying, the ma.s.saging with lotions and scented oils, and at last, dressing and going to dinner. Dinner was generally in the company of the King and his Companions, but sound worth listening to, it turned out to be so distorted as to be incredible. Then, when she was sure she was going to fall asleep from boredom or the heat, came the drying, the ma.s.saging with lotions and scented oils, and at last, dressing and going to dinner. Dinner was generally in the company of the King and his Companions, but they they never discussed anything worth listening to either! Oh, no, it was all pretty compliments and talk of hunts and weather-not a word of the Saxons, or King March, or anything else actually worth hearing about. never discussed anything worth listening to either! Oh, no, it was all pretty compliments and talk of hunts and weather-not a word of the Saxons, or King March, or anything else actually worth hearing about.

The whole tedious business happened every other day. And she was certain that at least some of her ladies would do this every every day if they could. day if they could.

This was not a bath day, so there would be no dinner with the King either. And finally fed up past bearing with the boredom, today she had ordered a servant to bring her the fletching materials from the armory. He hadn't wanted to, but there was no reason why he shouldn't, so at last she bullied him into it.

At least she was getting something constructive done. She had not seen one single arrow in Arthur's forces that was any better than hers. None of these women had ever seen fletching done, much less put feathers to arrows themselves, so there would be no undoing what she had done.

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Arthur finally had something to say to her besides a curt greeting when he turned up that night and the doors closed behind him. He looked at her, as she was waiting patiently in the far-too-luxurious bed, and frowned slightly. The bedroom was-like everything else-in the Roman style. It was long and narrow, with the bed under a vaulted ceiling at the far end. The floors were warm enough to go barefooted on them, but the alcove with the bed was a little drafty, and she pulled the fur up around her shoulders. Every night her women put her naked into this bed; every night the King turned up to perform like a bored stallion and depart.

"I heard an odd thing from Kai, my lady," he said, carefully, making no move to disrobe, although she was already naked beneath the covers. "This afternoon, he said, you ordered certain materials brought to you. You were . . . fletching?"

She nodded and wondered how much of her expression he could read in the light from the single oil lamp at the bedside. "I was."

He paused. "I should like to know why. It seems . . . an odd occupation."

"Because-" she took a deep breath. "Because it was better to make arrows than to pick up small objects and begin flinging them at the heads of those vacuous, simpering, gossiping idiots that I am supposed to be polite to."

His mouth dropped open, and he looked at her in astonishment.

"Husband, I am not not one of these women!" she exclaimed pa.s.sionately. "I was not made, nor trained, for idleness! I am a warrior, trained from childhood to be a warrior. I have not one thing in common with them. I do not believe that any of them has done a single piece of simple, practical work in all her life! They have no thoughts beyond dress and gossip. I do not find gossip to be entertaining! one of these women!" she exclaimed pa.s.sionately. "I was not made, nor trained, for idleness! I am a warrior, trained from childhood to be a warrior. I have not one thing in common with them. I do not believe that any of them has done a single piece of simple, practical work in all her life! They have no thoughts beyond dress and gossip. I do not find gossip to be entertaining! I am a warrior! I am a warrior! And being caged up in these rooms, hour after hour, day after day, doing nothing with any meaning to it, hearing nothing but trivialities discussed as if they were matters of the realm, is driving me mad!" And being caged up in these rooms, hour after hour, day after day, doing nothing with any meaning to it, hearing nothing but trivialities discussed as if they were matters of the realm, is driving me mad!"

"I-see-" he said. Finally he walked heavily to the bedside and sat down on the foot of it.

"Husband, I am stifled. I cannot breathe here. My clothing weighs upon me, heavier than any armor; the rooms are too warm, the food so rich it makes me ill. I feel that if I do not see the sun and feel the wind, I will lose the few wits I have left to me." She looked at him with pleading. "Surely you can see now what is wrong."

And then she saw understanding dawn on him, and he smiled a little. "Yes, wife, I do see!" He picked up her hand and squeezed it. "I understand. I shall leave orders I think will please you, and I expect after such a stressful day, you will want some sleep. I shall leave you to your rest."

And with no other words than that, he left her. This time, without without the . . . the "servicing" that was so automatic that it felt like nothing more than a tedious ch.o.r.e for both of them. the . . . the "servicing" that was so automatic that it felt like nothing more than a tedious ch.o.r.e for both of them.

Relief suffused her like the warmth from the floor. Finally, he realized what kind of a person he had taken to wife. And he was truly as good and kind a man as she had seen him be with others. She blew out the lamp and pulled the covers about her, thinking happily of the hunting she would do tomorrow and of being, at last, part of his councils.

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She awoke to silence.

Her first thought was gleeful. He had sent those awful chattering women away! Or at least, told them to take their unwelcome company elsewhere. The servant that slept in the chamber attached to hers woke up as soon as she heard Gwen moving about and tried to put her into those maddening drapes, but Gwen sternly ordered her to find her old clothing, the tunic and trews and good st.u.r.dy boots, and though the servant protested, she obeyed. A glance while she was dressing at the light coming from the tiny window up near the top of the ceiling-after waving the servant away-told her that she had slept well past midmorning. Another sign that the gaggle of ninnies was elsewhere! She quickly tied on her boots with a happy heart.

Silently thanking the G.o.ddesses, Epona in particular, Gwen strode cheerfully into her solar and headed for the doorway to the outer corridor, intent on getting to the stables and finding Rhys. She hadn't seen either of her horses since she had arrived here, and of the two, Rhys was the one most inclined to be lazy when he got the chance. Probably stuffing himself on hay and congratulating himself on escaping exercise, the slothful beast, Probably stuffing himself on hay and congratulating himself on escaping exercise, the slothful beast, she thought happily. she thought happily. Time to wake him- Time to wake him- She pushed open the door, and at once was stopped by a bar to her exit. "Halt!" the guard at the door said, "Boy! What are you-"

"Boy?" Gwen slapped at the spear that had been lowered to stop her from going any further. "Alun ap Grwn, are you blind? I'm no more a boy than you are. Now enough with your nonsense. I'm going to the stables."

The guard gaped at her, then snapped the spear back up. His usually stolid expression was gone, replaced with utter confusion. "Queen Gwenhwyfar, I-didn't recognize-"

She waved the apology off. "Never mind. I'm going for a ride, and I suppose I will need an escort. Send for whoever of the Companions isn't busy, will you, and direct him to the stable. Or better yet, go yourself."

"Ride?" the man replied, looking dazed. "Stable? But, Queen Gwenhwyfar, you can't-"

"I most certainly can," she said sharply. "and I am going to. Now get one of the Companions to-"

"But-there's no one here but Kai and Medraut," the man stammered. "And I'm under orders from the King himself. You're not to be disturbed, and on no account I am not to let you leave-"

The first part of his sentence was lost in the slap to the face that the second part was. She whirled on him. "What?" "What?" she exclaimed in outrage. she exclaimed in outrage.

"I'm not to-let you leave-your rooms?" he faltered, as she put one hand to her belt knife and stared at him, eyes blazing with rage.

"We'll see about that!" And with that, she headed off at an angry trot, outpacing him, as he tried to follow her, protesting every step of the way.

She was so angry that she just shut his words out. She headed straight for the King's privy chambers, since it wasn't yet time for the usual audiences, nor for the Companions to gather about that famous round table. Her blood boiled. He had said said that he understood! How could he-how dared he- that he understood! How could he-how dared he- Her chambers were separated from his by the courtyard; she pa.s.sed along one side of it, the first time she had actually seen the sun and the open sky in days. Her breath steamed in the cold air; it felt good and clean after all the heat and perfume.

She stormed past the startled guards on his doors, the protesting Alun right behind. The first room, where he would usually have been, sitting at a desk, was empty. There were no maps on the desk, no discarded cloak, and the mosaic floor that imitated the pool of the courtyard outside had been swept immaculately clean.

The second room, where he usually lounged with Kai or others he considered close as kin, was also empty. The cus.h.i.+ons were placed neatly on the Roman-style couches. There were no cups and horns waiting on the side table to be collected, no litter of food from breaking fast. And the small council chamber, with the frescos of Hercules defeating a lion, was just as empty. And his bedroom, as small as hers, was not only empty, but cold. Very empty, even of servants.

She turned on the guards, who had followed her in. "Where is he?" "Where is he?" she shouted. she shouted.

"G-g-gone, Queen Gw-l"

"I can see that! Where?" Where?" If he and the Companions had gone off hunting and left before she was awake so he had an excuse to leave her behind- If he and the Companions had gone off hunting and left before she was awake so he had an excuse to leave her behind- "Roughly half a day from here, more or less southwards, dear sister."

That was not a voice she wished to hear.

She stiffened as Medraut strolled past the guards, a goblet held negligently in one hand. He took a sip of the contents as she stared at him, uncomprehending. Surely they were not hunting that far afield? And surely there was no need for Arthur to go visiting an ally in this weather-was there?

"Half a day-what does that mean?" she demanded, her stomach sinking with dread. Because there was one one reason why they would all have left . . . reason why they would all have left . . .

"Just what I said. He left this morning to join most of the Companions and the warriors. And his allies, of course." Medraut smiled at her, evidently enjoying every moment of this.

"Warriors-allies-why?" No. Surely not. Surely Arthur would not have- "The Saxons, of course. The moment they heard he'd married again, they decided to take advantage of it. Just like the last time, when they attacked in the winter. Evidently they did not learn the lesson. Or they heard that Arthur tamed the White Phantom, so now they believe it is safe to hara.s.s our border again." His grin widened. "You've been carefully sheltered from all this terrible news so that you wouldn't be upset by it. Arthur was only waiting until he was sure you were breeding to go take the field himself."

Her mouth dropped open. "Wh-breeding?" Suddenly the conversation-or lack of it-they'd had last night all made sense. But not in the way that she'd a.s.sumed last night.

He thought- "Of course, we were all sympathy when we learned of your outburst. And we agreed that it was safe enough to leave you now-not to mention that it's very unpleasant to be around a female when she is so . . . temperamental. Women do get so emotional and so irrational when they're breeding." Oh how she hated the snide smile on Medraut's face! She wanted to smash it off . . . her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides. How much of that nonsense he had just spouted had he he poured into Arthur's ear? Her jaw was clenched so hard that her teeth were actually beginning to hurt, and she forced herself to relax, but her fury at poured into Arthur's ear? Her jaw was clenched so hard that her teeth were actually beginning to hurt, and she forced herself to relax, but her fury at both both of them did not abate one bit. Of course he had taken the field himself. He hadn't wanted her in the first place. She was only now beginning to realize just how he thought of women in general-that he had never, even with the evidence in front of him, thought of her as a warrior. Certainly he had not thought of her as the equal of one of his Companions. Bronwyn was right; though he had first seen his first wife as a warrior, she had later shown herself to him as a woman, and he had buried the warrior beneath the woman in his mind. He was not a man who could see both. And in her case, he did not want to. of them did not abate one bit. Of course he had taken the field himself. He hadn't wanted her in the first place. She was only now beginning to realize just how he thought of women in general-that he had never, even with the evidence in front of him, thought of her as a warrior. Certainly he had not thought of her as the equal of one of his Companions. Bronwyn was right; though he had first seen his first wife as a warrior, she had later shown herself to him as a woman, and he had buried the warrior beneath the woman in his mind. He was not a man who could see both. And in her case, he did not want to.

And Medraut? Medraut had encouraged him.

"Here. Drink this, dear sister," Medraut said, handing her the goblet. She almost dashed the contents in his face. But instead, she swallowed them in two gulps, not even tasting them, except to recognize them vaguely as mead. She thrust the cup back at him. "Your women protested that it was too early to tell, but he only smiled, and said, 'Well, whatever else would cause a lady to suddenly demand fletching supplies and sit in her solar to make arrows? I expect her next demands will be for pickled vegetables, and stewed dormice.' And then he laughed and appointed Kai and myself to be in charge of the realm while he was at war." Medraut chuckled. "Such a trusting man. I suppose he thinks he's tacitly grooming me to take Kai's place eventually. But then, he knows that Kai will take excellent care of his queen, given her condition. And I, of course, told him that I would be sure that you had my very particular attention."

"He-what?" She was so enraged now that she was dizzy with it. "But I am the queen! I-" She groped blindly for the edge of the table to steady herself. She was so enraged now that she was dizzy with it. "But I am the queen! I-" She groped blindly for the edge of the table to steady herself. She She should have been the one left in charge, not Kai, and certainly not Medraut! That she had not-it was an insult past bearing. should have been the one left in charge, not Kai, and certainly not Medraut! That she had not-it was an insult past bearing.

"Exactly, dear sister." He laughed. Oh, how she hated that laugh! "You are only the queen. Obviously he couldn't leave a mere woman in charge. That is hardly the Roman way-but you look ill, dear sister."

She held the table with both hands now, the room spinning around her.

"You see, you have exerted yourself entirely too much. Let me help you to your chambers-" He waved off the anxious guards. "No, no, it's quite all right. I can carry her easily."

And indeed, he bent a little and scooped her up as if she had been a child. He was much, much stronger than he looked. And by now, she couldn't even push him away. Her arms and legs didn't seem to want to work at all, and she was so dizzy that she couldn't even get her eyes to focus.

Her head lolled against his shoulder, and she hated, hated, hated, the foul, possessive way his arms tightened around her. She tried to speak, but nothing would come out. the foul, possessive way his arms tightened around her. She tried to speak, but nothing would come out.

Once more she crossed the end of the courtyard, but this time, even though she wanted to squirm out of Medraut's arms and run away, she had to close her eyes against the way the heavens swung wildly about.

The chill air didn't help, and the warmth that enveloped her once they got to her rooms only made things worse. She wanted to scream in protest as he invaded her very bedchamber, but her voice wouldn't work. "Go get her women," Medraut ordered the single servant, as he laid her down on her bed.

"That didn't take long at all."

That was a voice . . . a voice she should know. But it wasn't one of her women. Gwen stared up at Medraut, and at the woman who had come to join him. A woman wearing her her dress. A woman that was so like her, that Gwen seemed to be looking into a mirror. For a moment she thought, dress. A woman that was so like her, that Gwen seemed to be looking into a mirror. For a moment she thought, magic. magic.

And then her mind finally presented her with the right answer. "h.e.l.lo, sister mine," Gwenhwyfach said, and giggled, looking down at her. "What? No words of greeting?"

Gwen's throat worked, but nothing came out.

"My potions have always been effective," Medraut replied. "Because I take more care with them than my sister does."

"But your sister has other talents." Gwenhwyfach reached up with a proprietary hand and smoothed Medraut's black hair, and for one moment, his eyes flashed annoyance. She was looking at Gwen, however, and didn't see it. "I have the cart all ready, my love. We only need to roll her up in the blankets and have your man carry her out."

"Good." Medraut reached down and tilted Gwen's chin so she was looking directly at him. "You see, dear sister, I could not take the chance that any woman the High King married actually might might manage to breed Arthur an heir. I must have put together a dozen plans, depending on how important the woman was. The worst would have been one of the Ladies . . ." He made a sour face. manage to breed Arthur an heir. I must have put together a dozen plans, depending on how important the woman was. The worst would have been one of the Ladies . . ." He made a sour face.

Gwenhwyfach laughed. "There is no chance one of them would have given up her Power to come here!"

"True enough." Medraut looked down at Gwen, and she wanted to shudder at the expression in his eyes. "But when he decided to marry you, I knew I had the easiest and most elegant-and least risky-solution in my own two hands. My My Gwen becomes the queen she has always wanted to be and makes sure Arthur dies childless. Gwen becomes the queen she has always wanted to be and makes sure Arthur dies childless. You You will be taken away." will be taken away."

His wife interrupted him, glancing with some concern between herself and Gwenwhyfar. "Do you think that anyone will notice that she was wearing those-things-and I am wearing her gown?"

Medraut shook his head. "Only the guards and the servant saw her. Besides, she can always say that she changed her clothing after her spell of illness. I dismissed the servant that dressed her to the kitchens, and no man ever remembers what a woman is wearing."

"Only what she isn't." Gwenhwyfach said mockingly, and Gwen felt chilled to hear her own laugh coming from her sister's throat. "Oh, I am looking forward to this. You may be sure I will well bewitch the High King, my love. Arthur will have such a greeting when he returns as will make him never want to leave my bed again. I will use every wile your mother ever taught me."

"It would greatly please me if you managed to dispose of him there, my love," Medraut smiled. Incredibly, he was not the least bit disturbed at hearing his own wife describe how she intended to seduce another man! Then again . . .