Page 22 of Touched By Maen Llia
“Women have ruled kingdoms since before the Romans took these lands,” Merlin added. “Boudicca, whose name we all know, was Bedivere’s ancestor and has shaped the fortunes of Corneus. You, Catrin, know no more or less than she. You know strategy and politics, for you have grown up in this court and watched its king rule. You have wisdom, for you have studied the ancients and read their books. And you are a diplomat, for today I watched you wrangle peace for Dyfed from a king who was already on his way to conquer this land. Who else but you is fit to rule as Queen of Dyfed?”
And abruptly, the people around her began to shout and cry and stomp their feet. Hands pummelled the tables and the cups and plates on the tables bounced and rattled.
Catrin scanned the faces of the people shouting at her. They all looked pleased. Even happy.
They wanted this.
*
Marcus stayed on the bench and scowled at the tabletop. As the mood of the room turned, so did his—but in the opposite direction.
He watched through backs as Merlin came around the top table, took Catrin’s hand and led her to the big chair. He pulled it out from the table, for her to stand in front of it. Catrin looked around the room with a touch of bewilderment, but her chin was up, the way it had been when she confronted Tewdrig.
The noise in the room leapt to an even higher level as everyone gave voice to their approval. Caron and Dai had not been liked, it seemed.
Catrin, the daughter of the old King’s son. And cousin to Merlin, too.
Marcus closed his eyes. He had held her last night, thinking that they were both nobodies. She a bastard of an unknown father, and he the son of a Roman and a Briton and constantly pulled between the two of them.
Why had he not seen the royalty in her bearing? Her courage?
Why had he not seen that she could never be his?
XI
Catrin slept that night in a bed which had been hastily found for her, for she refused to turn Eira out of her room. It was not the cot in the weaving room she had used all her life, and she could not sleep. Not for a moment.
Or so she thought, until she woke at dawn, as usual, and heard the outer gates thump closed and the clop of horses.
Catrin slid out of the bed, threw on her old tunic, and pulled the furs off the bed, for it was cool, this morning. She wrapped them around her shoulders and hurried out to the gates, still barefoot.
The guards snapped to attention, staring ahead and unmoving.
“Who just left?” Catrin demanded. She couldn’t see anyone on the road down to the bridge from here. They must be in the dip just before the bridge and wouldn’t be in sight again until they crossed the second span of the bridge.
“Um…Prince Merlin and his company, my lord—I mean, my lady.” The guard flushed pink at his slip.
The other guard cleared his throat. “My lady, I was told to give you this when you woke.”
She spun to see the guard holding out a sealed letter. She took the roll, her heart hurting. “Thank you.” She managed to speak it without stuttering, even though her lips felt numb.
And on the far side of the bridge, at the foot of the hill, she saw the front riders emerge, the red and white Pendragon banner flying over their heads.
Catrin drew in an unsteady breath and moved back to the verandah and settled on the edge of it to read the letter.
Catrin—Queen of Dyfed;
It pleases me more than you can know to address you that way. I have never met anyone more deserving of such a title than you.
Merlin is impatient to return to Camelot now the land of his birth is in good hands. We are to leave as dawn arrives. I can hear the larks already…and I curse them.
I will treasure the single night of your company you gifted me before the truth came out. It will remain in my heart always.
Marcus.
*
Bryn explained that wizards could not cross water, which was why Merlin’s company would travel in a great northern arc around the open water of the Hafren, and come to Camelot via the northern road. It would add seven days to their journey, when a ferry across the Hafren, and crossing the Summer Country from the northwest, would bring them to Camelot in three days.
