Page 59 of The Dragon Ring
I gave up being gentle, and dragged Morgawse after me. With a sob of terror she followed, waddling as fast as her enormous belly would allow. Behind us, the soldiers charged into the now empty audience chamber. I ran. We were nearly at the corner when the soldiers came out again. On the far side, some of Arthur’s men charged back into the courtyard with drawn swords, heading toward the soldiers. In front of us, a half-open door beckoned. Without stopping to think, I dragged Morgawse through and closed it behind us.
My breath came fast and my heart pounded. Morgawse was sobbing. I put my finger to my lips, and she made a brave effort to be quiet.
Then I looked around. We were in a kitchen. Four servants stared at us in surprise. It wasn’t a large room. In the center stood a worktable. At one end a young girl had paused in the act of chopping vegetables into large heaps. Beyond her, a sweaty, red-faced man stopped rolling out pastry on the floury tabletop to wipe large hands on his grubby tunic. A middle-aged woman stood beside a pot bubbling on a stove, and a spotty teenage boy gawped at us over a large bowl he’d been scouring with sand. A strong smell of onions and freshly baked bread pervaded the air.
I put my arms around Morgawse again in the hopes it would soothe her. If she were terrified into an early labor, I didn’t know what we would do. All the men who were supposed to protect us had buggered off doing their own thing.
Footsteps sounded on the paving slabs outside the door. Hobnailed boots struck stone.
Then came a voice. “Check all the rooms. Root out the traitors to the king. Get to it.” I looked at the four dumbfounded servants.
There was nowhere to hide. Pans of all shapes and sizes hung on the plain plastered walls, amphorae and sacks stood in the corners, and shelves bearing glass vessels and ceramic bottles lined the walls. Nothing that would give cover to even the smallest person.
I pulled Morgawse flat against the wall, where the opening door would cover us, holding her close, and putting my finger to my lips, glared at the servants. The door swung open. Morgawse gave a little whimper. I clamped my free hand over her mouth.
Someone was standing on the other side of the door. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear his heavy breathing. If only he couldn’t hear mine. I fixed my gaze on the servants. They remained still and silent, eyes wide, staring back at the open doorway.
“Nothin’ in ’ere sir,” said a loud voice close to my ear. “It’s just the kitchens. No room to ’ide a cat.” He was inches away, only the oak separating us. Morgawse trembled in my arms. The four servants sat impassive, frozen in their food preparations.
“Hurry up then, get a move on.” That was the commander’s voice again, rough and impatient. “Get out of there before more of ’em arrive.” The door slammed shut behind the retreating soldier. I heaved a sigh of relief and released Morgawse’s mouth. She took a great indrawn gasp of breath, and a shudder ran through her.
I looked at the servants. “Thank you.”
The woman by the stove pushed her pots onto the side where they wouldn’t burn, and came round the table to us. Her straggly grey hair was scraped back from a doughy wrinkled face, and her tunic, tied at the waist with a length of cord, gave her the look of a sack of corn someone had given a head to. She’d have made a good Guy for Fireworks Night. But she had a kind face.
Morgawse broke away from me and collapsed into the woman’s arms with a sob. The woman looked at me over Morgawse’s head, patting the girl on the back. The red-faced man wiped his hands again and approached.
He put a floury hand on Morgawse’s back. “Don’t fret yerself, milady Morgawse. Ye’re safe wi’ us.” She gave another convulsive sob, and huddled in close to the woman’s ample bosom.
The woman looked at me. “What’s goin’ on out there? And who are ye, if I can be bold enough to ask ye?”
“My name’s Gwen. The Seneschal read out the old king’s testament. He said Cadwy should get Powys and Prince Arthur should get Dumnonia. They’re fighting. Theodoric gave Morgawse to me to look after and left.”
The man noticed the dragon ring on my finger. His eyes went round as saucers.
“Tis true what the boy said last night,” he hissed, jerking his head at the spotty youth. “She ’as the dragon ring. This be the Lady of the Ring ’erself, Karstyn.”
Karstyn looked across at the boy. “Be this the maid ye saw last night?” she barked. Anyone would think he’d done something really bad.
He nodded. “Tis ’er awlright. I seed ’er comin’ out the king’s chambers, I did. She were there wi’ Prince Arthur. I ’eard Old Breanna sayin’ ’oo they woz.”
“King Arthur,” Morgawse said with a sniff, raising her tear-drenched face and speaking for the first time. “My brother is named King of Dumnonia by my father.” Her quavery voice was full of pride.
So she was also Arthur’s sister. What did I know about Morgawse? I racked my brains.
“We’d best bar the door if there’s to be fightin’,” the man suggested, going to a big beam that lay against the wall. The boy ran to help him, and together they slotted the beam into place in metal wall brackets on either side of the door. I began to feel a bit more confident.
Which was when Morgawse doubled up with a cry of pain, clutching her swollen belly.
Oh fuck. Now what were we going to do?
Karstyn’s arms tightened around the girl. “Fetch that stool, ye idlers!” she snapped at the two men. “Don’t ye just sit there gawping! ’Aven’t ye ever seen a woman birthing?”
I certainly hadn’t, but she wasn’t talking to me.
“We’ll need hot water and clean cloths,” I said hopefully.
Karstyn gave me a funny look.
