King Arthur and Her Knights: Enthroned #1, Enchanted #2, Embittered #3 (22 page)

“Amateur,” Nymue said, shooing a butterfly away. “You are in luck, I know of the spell and I know how to spin it so you may understand Morgause’s spawn. It will only take a few minutes—although we will have to stand in the lake. It makes my magic stronger—which I will need to finish this.”

“I cannot thank you enough, Nymue.”

“So now you say thank you with that pretty mouth of yours? I cannot say I am happy to help you, but I would rather have you on the throne than some idiot like the Debaucher, so I guess I will aid you.”

Merlin jumped Britt the moment she returned from her lake visiting excursion.

“Where have you been? You said you were going for a ride, not a sightseeing tour. Why do you smell so horrible?” Merlin said, taking a step back.

Britt grimaced. “I’m making a new decree: we’re building public bath houses.”

“Like the one Romans built?”

“I have no idea. As long as it has fresh water people can use to wash I don’t care. I am going to single handedly improve the hygiene of this castle if it kills me,” Britt said, handing Roen off to a stable boy. “What have I missed?”

“The harpy squawked furiously when she realized you’d ridden off without her. She’s in her den right now preparing for our dinner feast. Her spawn are seeing to their horses.”

“Perfect, I can test them without Morgause hovering over my shoulder,” Britt said, making for the stables.

“Test what?” Merlin asked. “Wait—you didn’t.”

“I did.”

“And she actually
helped
you? By the bells of Heaven, if I knew that’s where you were going I would have tied you up and kept you here. The Lady of the Lake could have turned you into a frog you know.”

“I caught her in a good mood. Apparently she had just ridden herself of some unwanted lake-guests.”

“Fortune favors the foolish I suppose.”

“So you claim, but we’ll see if the spell actually works,” Britt said as they entered the threshold of the stable.

Morgause’s sons were clustered around two stalls. Gawain was in one seeing to a fine chestnut horse. Agravain was in the stall next to him, brushing a red roan. Gaheris and Gareth stood on their tip toes outside the stalls, straining to see their brothers.

Britt stopped just behind the two youngest boys. “Good afternoon to you Gawain, Agravain, Gaheris, and Gareth. I trust you slept well last night and enjoyed your morning?”

All four boys bowed to Britt. “We did, my King,” Gawain said.

Britt shot Merlin a triumphant grin.

The enchanter shrugged. “It’s faerie magic, of course it would work. I’m off—don’t go disappearing again or I shall send Sir Kay to sniff you out. Blast!” Merlin said when he almost collided with Cavall.

The giant mastiff dragged one of the kennel boys behind him without remorse as he approached Britt, his tail wagging.

Britt chuckled and crouched to rub the dog’s shoulders. “It’s fine. You may return to the kennels. Thank you for watching him,” Britt told the boy.

“Yes, My Lord,” the boy said, rubbing his arms as he made his retreat.

“Did you miss me, Cavall?” Britt asked the giant dog, laughing when he pressed his wet nose to her temple.

Gawain and his brothers stared at the exchange, reminding Britt that she was supposed to be winning Gawain over. “Do you have dogs back in Orkney?” she asked.

“Of course we do, My Lord,” Agravain scoffed.

“I didn’t mean if you had a kennel. Do you, hm. Do you personally own any dogs?” Britt asked.

“No, My Lord,” Gawain said. “I once had a small hunting hound, but since then Father has taught us that affection for an animal is useless.”

“That’s a downright silly thing to say,” Britt said, biting her tongue to hold back a laugh when Gaheris and Gareth stared at her with googlie eyes. “Where’s your beanbag?” Britt asked her dog.

Cavall trotted down the aisle, disappearing from sight.

“Affection weakens a man,” Agravain said. His voice sounded canned, like a parrot repeating words without knowing the meaning.

“And
that
is a
stupid
thing to say,” Britt said, ignoring the collective gasps from King Lot and Queen Morgause’s sons. “If you’re an idiot with your affections and act melodramatic about it then yes, it weakens you. But there are very few men here in Camelot that I am fonder of than Sir Kay, my foster brother, and there are even fewer men I would trust more with my life than Kay.”

The four brothers were quiet as they reflected on Britt’s words.

“Good boy,” Britt said when Cavall returned with his beanbag, which she threw for him.

When Cavall brought it back Britt took the beanbag and scratched Cavall under his chin. “Good boy, Cavall.”

“Can, can I pet him?” one of the younger boys, Gareth, asked.

“Certainly. Let him sniff your hand first so he knows you’re a friend,” Britt said, delighted she was able to share the odd bits of dog wisdom she had picked up since acquiring Cavall.

Gareth held a hand out to the giant mastiff. He swallowed hard when the dog snuffled him, but ran his hand down Cavall’s massive shoulders.

Cavall sat patiently, looking a Britt with a loyalty that made her throat tighten.

“He’s soft,” Gareth said as Gaheris joined him.

Gawain leaned out of the stall to watch his younger brothers. “He’s a fine looking animal. He was bred in your kennels, My Lord?”

“I believe so. Kay gave him to me when we first came to Camelot. He’s more well trained than I could ever teach a dog to be,” Britt said, passing the beanbag to Gaheris, who threw it.

Cavall watched the beanbag sail and looked back at Britt. She nodded, and Cavall got up to track down the makeshift toy.

“These are your horses?” Britt said, looking at the horses Gawain and Agravain stood with.

“They are, My Lord,” Gawain said.

“They’re some of the finest horses in Britain, My Lord,” Agravain said, daring Britt to say otherwise.

“You should see Merlin’s horse. It’s as skinny as a deer but it runs like the wind. The thing is half bones and the other half is spite. I’m sure it got its sweet temperament from its rider,” Britt said.

“The black horse the stable boy led here before you arrived, was that your horse, My Lord?” Gawain asked.

“Probably. His name is Roen.”

Agravain started brushing his horse again. “He seemed poorly muscled for a stallion. Ow!” he said when Gawain reached over the stall wall and smacked his brother on the head.

“He’s not a stallion, he’s a gelding,” Britt said.

“Not a stallion? He can’t be your war steed then, My Lord?” Gawain asked.

“No, he is my mount of choice for battles. He’s trained for them, but as a bonus I don’t have to half kill him to keep him under control when a mare prances past. It’s a wonder more soldiers don’t ride mares just to make knights lose control of their horses,” Britt said.

Outside the church bells rang. Britt counted the tolls before grimacing. “As entertaining as this has been I must leave. We will dine soon, and Merlin will never forgive me if I arrive smelling like a pig. I will see you all this evening I suppose—thank you, Gareth. Cavall, come,” Britt said, taking the beanbag when Gareth handed it to her before leaving the stable, Cavall on her heels.

Chapter 3

Family Loyalties

“You have done magnificent things even though you have been on the throne for but a short time,” Morgause said.

Britt muffled a yawn as she strolled with Morgause. The evening feast was still in full swing, but when Britt expressed a desire to walk around the great hall the queen insisted on coming with. Unable to politely refuse her company, even though Morgause was the very reason Britt wanted to leave the table, Britt reluctantly accepted.

“Even the fae accept you, else they never would have given you a sword even half as grand as Excalibur,” Morgause said with a meaningful look at Excalibur, which hung from Britt’s belt. “Your men are so loyal to you. I heard how bravely they fought for you against my husband and his allies. They sounded so fearsome, but now that I have come I can see they fought out of love for you.”

After a few moments of silence Britt realized Morgause was finally expecting a reply. “You are too kind, My Lady.”

Morgause’s smile did not glitter as it usually did. Instead she pursed her lips and looked around, removing her attention from Britt.

Wherever Britt and Morgause walked knights watched them like lovesick puppies. Morgause seemed to gain more admirers by the moment, or more realistically her magic was able to reach deeper and deeper into the hearts of Britt’s men every hour she spent at Camelot.

Britt stopped and turned around. Griflet and Ywain were still there. The pair had shadowed Britt and Morgause since they first stepped off the dais. Griflet watched Morgause with calf eyes, but Ywain kept his attention on Britt, which was starting to make her uneasy.

Britt twitched her fingers at the teenagers in a ‘come here’ gesture. Griflet happily complied, claiming Morgause’s attention as soon as he drew near.

“My Lady, you are simply beautiful this night,” he said, bowing so low he had to adjust his tunic when he came upright. He completely ignored Britt. “You are more graceful than a swan.”

Morgause laughed, the sparkle returning to her smile. “Thank you, young knight.”

“Oh, I am no knight. Not yet anyway. I am just a man who is happy to bask in your beauty.”

“Are you sure you are not a knight? You speak and hold yourself like one,” Morgause flirted.

“My Lady, I cannot say how glad your words make me.”

Britt rolled her eyes at the nauseating display—Griflet was younger than Gawain and was making quite the spectacle of himself, although the other lovesick puppies probably didn’t notice anyway—before she turned to Ywain.

The young man was intensely quiet, something unusual for him as he was prone to dramatic displays.

“Everything alright, Ywain?” Britt asked.

“I was thinking of asking you the same thing, My Lord,” Ywain said.

“The food is delicious and everyone is more or less behaving themselves, what more could I ask for?”

Ywain hesitated. “If I may be so bold, My Lord?”

“You are my defender, Ywain. If you have something on your mind please share it.”

Ywain glanced at Griflet and Morgause—who were still carrying on over each other—and leaned closer. “My Lord is not… amorous of Queen Morgause?”

Britt blinked. “The Queen is twice my age, married, and my half sister. No, I cannot say I am at all amorous of her.”

Ywain’s shoulders heaved in relief. “I am glad to hear it. She is an enchantress, My Lord. She knows magic. She has powers over most men. She may seem nice, but she has the cunning of a viper, if you will pardon my frankness, My Lord.”

Britt stared at Ywain for a moment.

The young man uneasily shifted. “Did I speak out of turn, My Lord?”

Britt smiled and set her hand on his shoulders. “You did not. I was merely thinking that I have underestimated you, and I should prize your loyalty more highly than I already do.”

Ywain blushed with pleasure. “I am honored to hear that, My Lord. I shall do my best to keep Griflet away from her.”

Britt chuckled. “You have my thanks.”

Ywain bowed before he reached out and yanked Griflet by the arm, hauling his protesting friend away.

Morgause watched their abrupt exit with narrowed eyes. “Who was that young man?”

“The one complimenting you? That would be young Griflet,” Britt said.

“No, the other one.”

“Ah,” Britt said, oddly unwilling to share Ywain’s name. “He is not a knight, yet, although I expect I will be knighting him soon. I met him when I fought your husband and his allies.”

“He is very loyal to you, isn’t he?”

“He is,” Britt said, unable to keep a chord of pride out of her voice. She had a feeling that Ywain was one boy Morgause would never be able to sink her claws into.

Morgause snapped out of her close observation of Ywain. “It is right for him to be so dedicated to you, My Lord. You are a good commander, and a generous king.”