Page 317 of The Daughters of Avalon
Rhiannon peered back to find Jack loitering at a distance, and she wondered how much he knew. “If you don’t mind my asking, what precisely is Jack to you?” Rhiannon asked, taking advantage of Marcella’s forthcoming mood.
“He’s only my apprentice.”
“And Cael? I know his commission is nearly the same as yours.”
“Not quite. He answers to your King. I answer to my Church.”
“YourChurch,” Rhiannon mused aloud. “How odd to hear you say so, though I suppose one creed is the same as another.”
“More or less,” agreed Marcella. “Some call it prayer, others invocation. Still, these are one and the same, and how sad to know it and still find so much discord.”
“I did wonder… how came you to be a paladin?”
There was a long, long pause, and then Marcella said, “Interestingly enough, because of your mother. She charged me to spy on Matilda whilst she was still wed to the Emperor. And, of course, this was precisely the reason for the discord with my mother. She begged me not to do it, and I… well… as you know, I forsook her advice.”
“Did you do it to please my mother?”
“I did,” Marcella confessed. “I would have done anything for Morwen in those days.”
“Anything?”
Marcella didn’t immediately respond, and Rhiannon afforded her a small change in topic. “So, you said Cael came to supplicate my case to the Guard? Did he oft have business with the Church?”
“Ah, Rhiannon… there is so much I am not at liberty to say, but I suppose he did. Often, our dictums were… shall we say… very well aligned.”
“So, then, he answers to both the Guard and the Rex Militum?”
“Alas, my dear Lady Blackwood. ’Tis not so simple as that.”
“Please… call me Rhiannon. I haven’t any notion how to behave as the lady of a great house. But, at any rate, I consider you to be my friend.”
“As you wish,” said the paladin dutifully, but there, again, was a smile in her voice.
Rhiannon smiled as well, and they rode for a while longer in silence. She felt, for the moment, content. But it was important to her that Marcella understand exactly how she felt, and she wanted the paladin to understand she was at peace with her past with Cael, whatever that might be. “He cares for you, I think.”
There was no need to say who she meant.
Marcella sighed impatiently.
“May I inquire something of you?”
“Of course.”
“Do you love him still?”
“Nay, Rhiannon. I do not. Not the man he has become.”
“But I don’t under?—”
“Please,” Marcella interrupted, “suffice to say that not every wetted wick is worth keeping lit.”
Heat suffused Rhiannon’s cheeks, and Marcella turned to peer over her shoulder to see where Jack might be. Finding him well out of hearing range, she confessed, “Alas, your husband was not my only mistake; there is Jack as well.”
Rhiannon lifted a hand to her lips. “Sweet fates!” She giggled nervously. “Who haven’t you lain with?”
The paladin snorted. “Not you,” she jested. “Care to remedy that?”
Rhiannon’s blush burned hot. “Nay! Sweet fates! I-I did not mean that to be so disparaging… ’tis only…”
