Page 38 of The White Knight

“No matter what you do, Arthur, someone will have something negative to say about you.”

Arthur looks at Lance, hoping to get his approval. But Lance is on my side. “Guin is right. Your enemies would likely refuse to invite you to their castles or kill you within. Would it not be best to tour the castles of those you consider friends and allies? Those you know will not attempt to assassinate you and your entire family?”

“Perhaps you are both right. I only wish for the entire realm to see the four of us together. To show them we have united our houses. Show them we can all live as one.”

Arthur looks tired. For nearly thirty years, Arthur has fought to keep his throne. Fought to bring the realm together. And he is still fighting.

“What about a gathering?” Arthur looks hopeful at Lance’s suggestion. He twirls his finger to let Lance know he would like to hear more of this idea. “We bring the realm together at Camelot. There we will host a month-long gathering of games, entertainment, and unity.”

“Like a tournament?” I ask. “I haven’t seen a joust since traveling here. Is that a thing you do in this time?”

The blank faces from my husbands tell me that the idea of a medieval tournament hasn’t yet been invented. Oops. It could be the very thing to create the comradery Arthur seeks. So I explain my modern idea of what a tournament could be.

“It is like a gathering, I suppose. It’s a competition that shows off one’s skills in mock combat. Jousting, swords, archery. For our tournament, we should allow anyone to enter. Knight, squire, farmer, king. No exclusions. In doing so, we are showing the people of this country that King Arthur only wishes to unite the whole of Britain. Maybe we can even allow women to enter the tournament?” I ask playfully.

My husbands continue to stare back at me with blank looks on their faces. Perhaps gender equality is a bit too much to ask for, but I had to try. I thought they were progressive six-century men. “I’m pretty good with my bow, just saying.”

“I do not think the people would be happy to see women entering a tournament, but perhaps we could have a segment for the womenfolk to join in. A weaving competition?” Arthur suggests, with a smirk hiding behind his stern look.

I roll my eyes at that. Arthur knows I’m terrible at weaving or any of the other “womanly” tasks of this century. They are boring and tedious, and I just don’t enjoy doing them. Gardening, cooking, and archery are the only things I’ve had any experience with in my past life. I’ve excelled at all three since hobbies are very limited in this time, even for a queen.

“What about a cooking contest?” I laugh. “Or a baking contest. I’m sure everyone has their own spin on a type of pastry or bread. Could be fun.”

“I think a weaving contest would be more appropriate. That way, the ladies of each castle can contribute. You can oversee the judging, Guinevere. You will not have to take part.”

“Okay, that’s fine then.” I shrug. “Would we really be inviting every kingdom in the realm?”

“As Lance said, we want to promote unity. Perhaps not all will show. But word will spread of our hospitality and honor. That will be enough. For now.”

I look down at my lap. The scar on my thigh pinches slightly as a brutal memory washes over me. “We will need to ensure the safety of all who attend. No woman, no matter her station, should ever be unattended. Camelot might be one of the safest castles in the realm, but someone took me from there once. I will not let it happen to another. Not under my watch.”

Lance and Arthur reach out to me as one. I offer them each a hand, letting them give me their comfort and sympathy. Arthur releases me as Lance draws me closer to him. “No one will ever touch you that way again. I will ensure that the knights are on guard at all times. Our tournament will be safe. Camelot will continue to be safe. No one will get hurt. Unless Mordred enters against me in swords. I cannot promise I will not hurt him.”

Lance’s joke loosens me a bit, shaking a laugh out from deep under my fear. I hug him close, pulling myself onto his lap. It feels freeing to be around Lance now, to touch and hold him asI need to. It will be difficult when we return to Camelot to push these urges aside. We can’t let anyone see the truth.

“Mordred will likely enter all the events. Let us hope the other knights will eliminate him before facing you, Lance.” Arthur raises his mug of ale. “To unity.”

Lance grabs his from the table, our own small round table that has become our meeting grounds. The place where we make all our plans, strategies, and decisions. “To unity,” Lance shouts as he clinks his mug against Arthur’s.

“I will write to Gawain, have him prepare Camelot. Then I shall write to all the kings of the realm, inviting them to Camelot next summer. That should give us enough time to make all the arrangements. We will need to have an exceptional harvester this year.”

“Will we be heading back to Camelot soon?” I ask. Hoping he will allow me to stay in my home for longer.

“We have only just arrived here. It would be ungracious of us if we depart so soon.” Arthur looks at Lance. “Let us continue with our plan to remain at Joyous Gard for six months. Then we will journey back to Camelot, the four of us. In the meantime, I will send word to Gawain to begin preparations. He should send back a report soon enough on how Camelot is faring during my absence.”

“Galahad will be thrilled when he hears of the tournament,” I sigh excitedly. “Please promise me you will not let him enter any of the events. He is too young.”

“He is eight years of age, Guin. And by the time of the tournament, he will be close to ten.” I know Arthur’s mind on the matter. He’s already given Galahad a sword. It’s small, but I still lose my mind whenever he practices with Lance. “We should allow him the chance to compete in the non-combative games. Perhaps archery?” Arthur looks at both Lance and me for approval.

“You can train him, Guin,” Lance suggests. “I have seen you with a bow. Youarerather talented.”

I blush at his compliment. “Thank you.”

Chapter 24

Guinevere

“Come here, let mesee how much Galahad has grown,” Vivienne pushes through the welcome party of priestesses as we step off the barge into Avalon. Galahadhasgrown so much in the last year and a half. Standing up straight, he nearly reaches my shoulders. I might be on the shorter side, but I’m not that short. Galahad will be as tall as his father, no doubt.

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