King Arthur and Her Knights: Enthroned #1, Enchanted #2, Embittered #3 (29 page)

Britt inhaled deeply before speaking. “I must apologize, because I have wronged you. All of you.”

The silence was choking. Britt had hoped for some kind of reaction, but there was none.

“I did not trust you when you have given me nothing but your confidence and devotion. I forgot so quickly the terrible battle we lived through together. I forgot how you fearlessly rode out and killed for me, how you were injured and even slain for me—a beardless youth,” she said, cracking a slight smile.

No one laughed.

“I forgot that in London it was you who wanted me as your King, and it was because of you that I was crowned. It is altogether too easy to take personal credit for standing up here on this dais, reigning as king, But,” Britt paused and walked down the steps, her new armor gleaming in the light of the throne room. “The only reason I can stand is because of you.”

Britt looked into the eyes of the knights closest to her. She had their attention.

“I have withheld my respect from you, and it is my wrongdoing. So I ask you today, forgive me and please follow me anew. I will not treat your devotion daintily, but with the roughest courage. For your loyalty is not some fragile thing, like glass, but the most solid thing I know. It is blood and it is blades and armor. It is roars in the battlefield and shouts of celebration. It is the very foundation of Camelot, and it is what makes this kingdom great. I thank you, and I beg for your forgiveness,” Britt said before performing a formal bow, bending low at the waist.

Britt closed her eyes to shut herself against reality for a moment as she remained bent. No one said a word, and it was silent… until it wasn’t.

In a glittering wave of chainmail and tunics, the knights of Camelot knelt. They planted themselves lower than Britt and watched her with grave intensity. The air sang with the shings of countless swords being pulled free from scabbards as the knights planted their blades in front of them.

Sir Bedivere was the first to speak. “Hail, King Arthur. Long live the King!” he said, his voice booming like a mountain giant. He repeated it again and again, like a chant. Each time more knights joined in until the mantra was the loudest of shouts and Britt feared they would bring the castle down.

Britt’s eyes burned as she straightened and looked at her sea of knights. It was a beautiful sight, and it made Britt’s heart ache. She
had
failed them. Britt was too easily persuaded into thinking that her knights were fickle when she should have fought for them.

Never
again, Britt vowed as a shy smile crept across her lips.

When Britt lifted her chin and flashed a white smile at her knights they lost it. The shouting and roaring was louder than it had ever been for Morgause as the knights of Camelot celebrated their lord.

Britt looked down the aisle of the throne room, and pinned Morgause in place.

The beautiful queen was rolling her eyes from one side of the throne room to the other. Her expression was unreadable, but her lips tightened. The Orkney queen turned to speak to her sons, but Gawain and Agravain had knelt with Britt’s knights and were shouting with them. Gaheris and Gareth were jumping up and down in boyish glee, yelling at the top of their lungs.

Britt made her move and swept up to Morgause while her back was to Britt. “Please, walk with me, Morgause,” Britt said, forcefully tucking the queen’s arm in hers before pulling her out of the clamorous throne room.

The queen’s face was pale and drawn as Britt walked her out of the castle keep and in the direction of the stables. They walked past them, heading for a tiny herb garden Britt knew the cook kept.

It was abandoned at this time of the day, but it was tucked out of the way and—more importantly—out of sight.

Britt pushed Morgause into the small garden ahead of her and unsheathed Excalibur. The faerie sword flashed in the dim light as Britt held it at her side.

“Give me three good reasons why I shouldn’t be done with you and kill you right now,” Britt said.

While Britt acknowledged she had wrongly judged her men, she was more furious with Morgause than ever before. Morgause’s trip was nothing but an act of war, and she had tried to enchain Britt’s knights
and
Britt. While she would never go so far as to kill Morgause the Orkney queen didn’t need to know that. Besides, Britt didn’t think Morgause would think highly of the other option—bondage in Camelot’s dungeons as a hostage until her husband paid up.

Morgause widened her eyes and moved to step closer to Britt. “My Lord, why would you—,”

“Not another step,” Britt said, placing the tip of Excalibur’s blade near Morgause’s throat. “I know you have some kind of enchantment up your sleeve, so you had best stop pretending and start talking unless you want me to skewer you.”

“How dishonorable, to lay hands upon a lady with the intent—,”

“You are no lady,” Britt interrupted.

“But a man should never attack a woman, it’s, it’s,” Morgause said, retreating several steps.

“Oh? But it’s perfectly acceptable for you to attack a man, is it?” Britt asked, her smile was frosty like cracking ice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Morgause said. “Why are you so suddenly thinking ill of me, My Lord?” she asked, her countenance dripping with sorrow.

Britt narrowed her eyes at Morgause. If she wanted to get anywhere she would have to provoke the queen into revealing her true persona. “Did you try to take my knight’s loyalty away from them in retribution for your husband’s pitiful loss? Or,” Britt purposely paused. “Was it because it became apparent that your sons revere me and would leave you and your kingdom in a second to stand with me?”

Morgause froze, her posture taut and stiff.

Britt strolled around Morgause. “After all, what kind of love is more sacred than that between a mother and her sons? And to lose not one, but four of them? And the eldest being the heir to your kingdom? Now
that
is not only the illustration of shame, but also of irony. How deep their love for you must go,” Britt chuckled.

“What do you know?” Morgause spat, her hands clenched in fists. “You think you’re better than me? All you do is spout pretty words and deceive everyone around you into thinking you’re a great king when you’re
not
. You’re nothing more than Merlin’s puppet!”

“It’s true,” Britt said before leaning across the distance between her and Morgause. “But it doesn’t change the fact that it only took pretty words to lure your sons away, where as
you
had to use magic.”

Morgause screamed in fury, but Britt wasn’t done.

“And your magic didn’t even work on me—though heaven knows you tried. How pathetic you looked, fluttering your eyes at a man—your
brother
no less—who wouldn’t even glance your way.”

“You are no brother of mine!” Morgause snarled. “You are some sort of fae creature Merlin dug up from God knows where! Only faeries and women can resist the charms and enchantments I was given by the fae of the north!”

“Be reasonable, Morgause. If I was a faerie I would have no desire to rule over a
human
kingdom,” Britt said.

“You cannot deceive me. What other kind of male can be as beautiful as you?” Morgause snarled.

Britt laughed as she briefly tugged on a lock of her hair. When she looked up Morgause was staring at her.

All anger was gone, instead she studied Britt with intensity.

“You-you’re a, a woman,” Morgause said, her eyes widening.

Britt’s smugness left her. “What? Now you’re grasping at straws.”

Morgause shook her head. “You wouldn’t fall victim to my ensnarement, nor did you fight back with magic of your own. If you were a faerie there would be more enchanters than just Merlin behind you, and you wouldn’t have ridden into battle. You’re a
woman
.”

“Are you mad?” Britt demanded. “Not only is that a great insult, but—,” Britt was cut off when Morgause took Britt’s free hand in her hands and stared at Britt with something that looked  like…
hope
.

Britt swallowed uncomfortably as the Orkney queen stared into Britt’s eyes. “It’s true, it’s true, you
are
a woman!” she said, throwing her arms around Britt in an embrace. Ten years seemed to fall off the queen as her voice grew joyous and her smile bubbled with happiness rather than smug temptation.

“All these years trying—and here you accomplish it! Does Merlin know? He must know. If he threatens to usurp you tell him I will see him turned into a rat,” Morgause said.

“I’m sorry, what?” Britt said.

“For
years
my sister Elaine—wife of King Urien—and I have tried to see a queen rule in Britain,” Morgause said. “It was the only reason why I came to this blasted castle. If Arthur died and Gawain was his heir naturally he would need some sort of regent until he inherited his Father’s throne as well. I planned to be that regent.”

“Um,” Britt started, but Morgause was on a roll.

“Men are stupid and daft creatures, and they think us women to be even less intelligent than them. If a woman was placed on the throne think of the good she could do! But it has never happened because men
refuse
to believe we have an equal right to rule… until now,” Morgause said, returning her lit up eyes to Britt.

“I’m not telling everyone I’m a girl,” Britt finally said.

“No, I suppose you can’t. But even if you aren’t publically a female ruler you can improve Britain! You can make life better for women,” Morgause said with the devotion of a zealot.

Britt studied the beautiful queen for a moment. “Is it a hard thing? Being married to Lot I mean.”

The smile fell from Morgause’s lips and she looked at the ground. “It is easier for me than most, I believe, being that he is gone much of the time and I have never had to fear him. But it is difficult. When one is treated like a mindless barn animal most of the time it is difficult not to
be
a mindless animal. I cannot imagine how women who are only as half as lucky as Elaine and I are treated.”

Britt considered the problem as she stared at rows of herbs.

“But the treatment of women is only part of it. Some things you are already changing. I heard you have used crown funds to begin constructing a public bath house. Most nobility would see that as sprinkling pearls before pigs, but it is a fantastic idea, My Lord,” Morgause said.

“I don’t understand. I ordered construction before you knew I was a girl, why didn’t you think it was a fantastic idea then?” Britt suspiciously asked.

“I did think it was. But I was never going to say so because I thought it was Merlin’s idea,” Morgause said. “Merlin was always such a chauvinistic pig. I thought he would be worse as the King’s counselor, but you’ve changed him.”

Britt laughed. “I highly doubt that. He’s just happy that his vision for Britain is finally coming true. But, Morgause, there is no way I can trust you. For all I know you’re saying this to get on my good side since I have reclaimed my knight’s loyalties and can freely kick you out of Camelot.”

Morgause thought for a moment. “Fine, then I have news for you. In the hunting party four days hence there will be men who will attempt to kill you.”

“
What
?”

“It was my husband’s plan. I have a letter if you wish to see it. He sent it to me through a courier while you were gone.”

Britt clamped a hand over her eyes. “I’m getting a headache.”

“Stay home from the hunting party and you will be safe. I suggest you find yourself ill the morning it is due to set out,” Morgause said.

Britt peeked at the queen from under her hand. “I still don’t understand. Why are you telling me this? Why are you helping me?”

“It is true that there is something glorious about a rightful male sovereign. He makes orders and is instantly obeyed, he is the best and brightest of all his peers and he rules with that distinction. But a female ruler… she inspires. She makes her men feel like they can be better men, she makes them feel trusted and warm. Although you wear the disguise of a man, Arthur, you rule like a woman. I think that is something Britain needs right now, and it is a goal I have long worked towards. I do not care who achieves it as long as it
is
achieved. And if I can help you reach that goal it will be my greatest pleasure,” Morgause said.

The sharp angles and slick, oily quality to Morgause was gone. Instead she looked at Britt with tired eyes and a tattered smile, more motherly and womanly than Britt had ever seen her.

“Thank you,” Britt said.

Morgause’s smile widened briefly. “Sadly, as much as I long to stay and watch and advise you, I feel it would be best for you if I left. If I leave before the hunting party I can tell my husband I thought my actions would make me avoid suspicion over your death. However, I will leave my sons with you.”

“Pardon?”

“Gawain would never leave you, and I think Agravain is only slightly less devoted. Gaheris and Gareth do not love you as the older boys do, they adore instead. I suspect they will not be much saddened to stay at Camelot.”