Page 76 of The Road to Avalon
“It’s all right, Gwen,” Gildas called. “I’ve explained they have no right to touch either of you. That you’ve claimed sanctuary and they must uphold it. They have acknowledged your right to do so.”
I glanced at Archfedd. Her scowl had deepened, giving her a distinct look of her father, and her lower lip jutted as it had as a child when she’d been fomenting rebellion.
“You wait here,” I whispered. “Stay at the back where they can’t reach you. Just in case.”
She nodded her agreement, and I approached the doors.
Difficult to see the expressions on any of their faces with the sun behind them. I halted well out of reach and waited.
Arthur grunted in annoyance. “No need to stand here like some sort of sentinel,” he said to Gildas. “We’re not about to abuse your precious sanctuary. You can stand down.”
Gildas hesitated a moment, then dropped his arms and moved to one side. I caught the guarded, resentful look in his eyes. He’d never forgotten the day when Arthur had rolled his brother’s rotting head across the floor of Dun Breattann’s hall, of that I was certain. An act likely to imprint itself forever on the mind of a sensitive eleven-year-old.
“Thank you,” Arthur said, then turned his attention to me. “Maybe you’d like to tell me what you think you’re doing here?”
“What Gildas said,” I replied, keeping my voice level. “We’re claiming sanctuary.”
Arthur heaved a sigh. “I knowthat,” he snapped. “But what from? Why on earth do you think you need it?”
Obtuse man. Had he not been listening to my arguments against the marriage he’d decided on all by himself without consulting either Archfedd or me? I folded my arms and glared at him. “Take a guess.”
He glared back. “I’m not here to play games with you. I’m here to take you both home.”
“Well, we’re not coming unless you annul this betrothal between Archfedd and Medraut,” I retorted, determined not to give an inch.
Arthur glanced at Cei as though for support, and Cei shrugged, encouragingly noncommittal. He’d never liked Medraut.
I shot him a hard stare, making sure he felt every degree of my disapproval that he was here supporting his brother.
Arthur’s gaze returned to me. “That’s not something I can do. It’s already agreed with his mother and with him. It can’t be annulled, and neither do I want to do so.” His tone betrayed his rising annoyance.
Good.
“Well then,” I said. “We’re staying put.”
Arthur took a step forward, one foot on the flagstones inside the door, and Gildas moved in front of him. “No. You need to stay outside.”
For his pains, he got a look that would have had lesser men quaking like jelly on the floor. But not Gildas. He was made of sterner stuff. He glowered at Arthur. “Do I have to call the lay brothers?”
Arthur took back his foot. “Archfedd is a betrothed Princess. She’s as bound by that as she would be if the marriage ceremony had already been carried out.” He fixed me with a furious stare. “Youcan stay here as long as you want, butshe’s to come back with me.”
The anger that had been bubbling below the surface in me erupted. “Do you think I’m stupid? No. She’s not going anywhere. We’re here in sanctuary to keep her safe. She doesn’t love Medraut. In fact, she can’t stand him, and neither can I.” I was into my stride. “I’ve spoken to him. I asked him to be gentle with her and give her time, but he refused. If she marries him, he’ll rape her on their wedding night. That’s what it’ll be, Arthur. Rape. And I’ve seen enough of that. I won’t let it happen to my daughter.”
Albina and Cloelia, raped by who knew how many of Cadwy’s Saxon mercenaries and killed by their mother because she thought they’d have no life. Their hagridden faces, their bodies floating in the blood-stained waters of the bathhouse.
“That’s ridiculous,” Arthur snarled, as angry as I was. “Marriage can’t be rape.”
I had difficulty not rushing at him with my fists, but stood my ground. “Not true. Being married doesn’t make a woman a man’s property to do with as he wishes. If a wife doesn’t want sex with her husband, and he forces her, then it’s rape.”
He shook his head. “Rubbish. Once she’s his wife she’ll do as she’s told.”
I was pleased to see he stopped short of “as you do,” as he must have known it wasn’t true and I’d refute it.
“She doesn’t love him,” I said. “And she never will. He revolts her. She loves another.”
His brows lowered threateningly. “She doesn’t need to love her husband. She needs to do as she’s told and marry him and provide me with an heir.”
Now I was really mad. “So, it’s all about you getting an heir, is it?” I stormed. “Well, if you hadn’t been so quick to jump to the conclusion that Amhar was guilty, then you’d still have one. Trust you to put that above anything else. Above your daughter’s happiness. Above everything.”
