Page 10 of The Quest for Excalibur
Arthur’s eyes twinkled. “Why not? I’d met his mother at that age. In fact, he’d already been born.”
Men.“That may be so, but washerfather one of your warriors?”
He shook his head. “No. She was a servant from one of the farms at the foot of the hill. I think her father was dead. I never met him, nor her mother. She was glad to escape the drudgery and come to live up here with me.”
I couldn’t help it. A tiny nub of jealousy rose, as I pictured Arthur as a boy Llacheu’s age, tucked up cosily with this son’s mother and his baby, long before he met me.
I pushed aside this intrusive thought. “Exactly my point. Ariana has both fatherandmother, and I doubt they intend her to become any warrior’s mistress. Not evenyourson’s. Marriage is what they’ll be after for her– preferably before she relinquishes her virginity.” If she hadn’t already.
The cogs visibly clicked into place in his head. “Oh.”
“Yes. Oh. He either needs somewhere… someone… to work off his frustrations with, and that girl acrobat might be the one, or he needs to be married and do it legally and not risk offending one of your best warriors.”
Although I felt certain Llacheu had already discovered the pleasures of a woman’s body, Ariana, and her father, required my protection.
Arthur’s brow furrowed. There were indeed women within the walls of Din Cadan whose husbands had died, and who now made ends meet by servicing the unmarried warriors of the fort, and some of the married ones as well. The thought of sending Llacheu off to visit one of them probably appealed as little to Arthur as it did to me. “Marriage, then,” he said. “I’ll speak with Anwyll.”
I suppressed my laughter. “Better speak to Llacheu first. He may have changed his mind about Ariana now he’s set eyes on the way that girl can bend herself almost double.”
A mischievous grin split Arthur’s face. “A girl who can get into those positions does have her attractions…”
Underneath the table I slapped his leg. “Be happy with what you’ve got– if you want to keep it.”
He grinned wider still, leaning in close so he could whisper-shout in my ear. “Why would I want a peasant when I have a queen at home?”
I chuckled, and let my lips brush his in a kiss. “Just you remember that.”
“Eww,” exclaimed Amhar from beside me. “That’s gross.”
Chapter Seven
Snow arrived soonafter Christmas. It fell heavily for weeks, draping the countryside in a freezing veil of white that should have been pretty, but in reality, brought deadly danger in a time with no rescue services on standby.
Any animals out grazing faced death from either being buried in drifts, or lack of food, or both. Farmers struggled out daily in search of livestock in distress, unable to bring them all into shelter. The deer in the forest went short too, stripping the branches of the holly bushes bare and gnawing the bark from the trees– the only things left for them to eat.
We couldn’t hunt. We couldn’t even get out of the fortress, and no one could get in. Living on top of a steep hill had its drawbacks; both roads down the hillside had frozen to a slippery death-trap reminiscent of a toboggan run. So we had no news from Arthur’s spies in Viroconium regarding Cadwy’s increase in arms production.
Our once ample supply of firewood began to run low as we struggled to keep warm. Arthur had as many families as possible move into the Great Hall to conserve what heat we could produce, one fire being so much better than many. And all those people in one building created some heat of their own.
Coventina and Cei brought their bed into our chamber, as did Maia and the children, to keep warm by our brazier. Reaghan, full of excitement at the adventure, snuggled down at night in one bed with Archfedd and Maia, while the two boys slept top to toe in the other.
For the children, of course, the snow began as exciting and novel. We’d had snow in previous years, of course, but nothing like this, persisting week after week. Along with the other fortress children, they made snowmen every day, and had snowball fights that went on for hours, running through the maze of passageways between the buildings, pelting one another at every opportunity. And they made toboggans out of bits of wood or old flour sacks and slid down the steep slope to the main gates at speeds that brought a knot of fear to my chest.
The long icicles hanging from the blackened, snow-encrusted thatch of every house tempted the boys to target practice, and, once knocked off, they could be used as swords or daggers until they melted in small mittened hands.
But with the passing of the weeks, and Arthur’s sensible conservation of our supplies– we had to rely on the livestock kept within the walls– enthusiasm waned, and boredom set in.
“Why can’t we ride out?” moaned Medraut, as he sat with his chin in his hands by the brazier in our chamber, the chessboard I’d had made for the boys on a low table between him and his cousin.
Amhar heaved a sigh. “Father promised he’d take us hunting this winter. And now all we get to do is sit inside.” He gave the board a shove and some of the pieces fell over. “And play chess all day long.”
“Chess teaches you strategy,” I remarked, with a quick glance up from where I’d been trying to work on my book at the table. Not that I’d managed more than five lines all afternoon.
Coventina smiled. “You could go over your lessons.” She was helping Reaghan with the finer intricacies of stitching a long embroidered belt the little girl had been working on all winter.
“Pfft,” Medraut exclaimed. “That would be even worse. I don’t know why Merlin thinks we have to knowRomanhistory.”
“In Latin, too,” added Amhar. “It’ssoboring.”
