Page 2 of The Bear's Heart
I sagged against him, exhausted.
Eventually he spoke. “What did you see?”
Did he really want to know? This was magic, after all, the domain of men like Merlin, and women like Arthur’s sister, Morgana. Did he think it my domain, as well? He cupped my chin in one hand. “Was there a doorway?”
I nodded, shifting my weight. “Something,” I said, then paused to gather my thoughts. “Something magic…I think…opened a door like the entrance to a cave, and I saw my old world through it.” My voice quavered. “But I couldn’t leave you.” I swallowed the lump in my throat as a sob threatened to rise. “I thought I’d lost you and it was all my fault. Then you took my hand, and I knew it wasn’t too late.”
He gently kissed my wet eyelids. “Welcome home, Queen Guinevere. Your king is glad you’ve chosen him.”
Turning my face into his chest, I nestled closer still. Nathan was pushed into the back of my mind, a mind that refused to acknowledge the tiny doubt gnawing at my insides. The worry that I might not be able to do anything to change Arthur’s future. I’d think about that later.
We rose to our feet and, hand-in-hand, walked back down the hill to find Nial, the man from the Lake Village, who’d brought us here in his boat.
*
Nial sat onthe jetty, a dozen silvery eels lying on the dark boards between the ribs of his flat-bottomed boat. When he heard us coming, he scrambled to his feet to make a hasty bow. A small, middle-aged man, his face was as lined by his outdoor life as an ancient apple.
“Did Milady like what she saw of the Holy Island?”
I was at a loss.
Arthur answered for me. “Well enough, but time moves on and we need to be back at Din Cadan before nightfall. There’s rain in the air.”
Nial took a deep sniff with his not inconsiderable nose. “Aye, ye’re right there. I can smell it on the wind. Comin’ from the west.”
Arthur handed me into the boat, and I took my place on the plank bench as the two men untied the little craft fore and aft. How much difference a few hours can make. I’d thought never to lay eyes on Nial and his ramshackle boat again, and now here we were, preparing for the hazardous journey back down the flooded River Brue to the Lake Village where we’d left our horses.
Nial pushed us off and took up his position in the stern with his long pole. The boat nosed out into midstream as we rode with the current, guided only by the gentlest steering. Arthur took my hand in his and held it tight, while the dragon ring that had brought me to his world glinted on my finger. Did he think I might change my mind and run back up the hill to the circle of standing stones if he didn’t keep a hold on me?
His touch was comforting; his hand, so warm in mine, anchored me with him, and I clung onto it like a lifeline as we sat side-by-side in companionable silence.
Often in my life, when I’d had to make a big decision, I’d made it, and then felt my choice might have been wrong. Was this the right university course? That new car, was it the right one? The new job, did I really like my new colleagues? And that was how I felt now. I’d committed myself to living in the Dark Ages. I’d committed myself to a life of danger, of warfare, of lawlessness, of hardships. Could I really handle it? Or was I deluding myself, in love, not just with Arthur, but with a romantic dream kindled from my knowledge of the legends about him?
The Lake Village came into view. It crouched low over the dark water on spindly wooden stilts, its center resting on a wide heap of rocks and earth, a single narrow wooden causeway connecting it to the shore. Houses jostled for space on the decrepit platform, and smoke rose from their rooftops to mingle with the mist. Nial brought our boat into the same sloping jetty we’d left from and quickly tied her fore and aft. With a deep-felt sigh of relief that we were back safely, I took Arthur’s proffered hand and stepped out.
In the tiny central square, the women still squatted, mending their husbands’ nets, their dirty children playing about their feet as though nothing of any great consequence had happened that day.
A fine mist of rain fell, and the wind had whipped up waves on the surface of the lake. It was good to feel my feet on dry land again, even though it meant braving the rickety walkway from the village to the shore. Once there, we waved away offers of food and drink with polite thanks, and said goodbye to Nial. Mounting our well-rested horses, we set off back the way we’d come only a few hours before.
We rode in silence along the gloomy forest track. I had much to think about. I was considering afresh just what I’d given up to stay here in the fifth century with Arthur, and still wondering if I’d done the right thing. Arthur gave no hint of his own thoughts.
It was he who eventually broke the silence.
“Tell me about the world you’re from.”
That wasn’t the question I’d been expecting. Had he, like me, been brooding on what I’d given up for him? What was there to tell him that wouldn’t profoundly shock him? The truth would be too much. Only Merlin knew the truth, and even he had no real idea of my world and how different it was.
“Our worlds are very different.” That was an understatement. “Putting it into words is really hard. Iwilltell you about it, I promise. I just don’t want to think about it right now.”
He seemed to accept that.
“Will you miss it?” His horse moved closer to mine, and our knees brushed. His face was solemn, brows furrowed, jaw set. He wasn’t yet convinced I was his to keep. I wasn’t convinced, either.
“Yes.” There was no denying I’d miss it badly.
He went quiet for a while. I concentrated on the track ahead, stretching away between the tall, bare trees, here and there patched with stones in the worst mud holes.
He broke the silence. “What will you miss the most?”
