Authors: Shanti Krishnamurty
“We? You mean you were there?” Marian asked again.
“Yes. My son’s daughter and I captured him and poured his essence into the lake.” She shrugged. “It was a fitting punishment for his crimes.”
“His crimes?” Robin leaned forward. “But he was the greatest wizard Britian’s ever known.”
“He was a misguided fool.” Nyneve said bluntly. “But I digress. This is not about Merlin. It is about the secrets of the lake. And I have told you one. The other is not for you to know.”
Marian opened her mouth to say something, but a pounding at the chapel door interrupted her.
“Why is this door locked?? Open it at once!” The sheriff’s voice came through the wooden doors clearly.
Marian looked at Robin, eyes wide. “You cannot be found here!”
“The passageway,” Nyneve directed. “Now, Robin. Hurry.”
Robin pressed a quick kiss to one of Marian’s hands before he scrambled out of the pew and ran toward the back of the chapel.
“But—there’s nothing back there,” she protested.
Father’s hand on her shoulder prevented her from rising. “He’ll be fine, Mari.”
A barely seen flick of Robin’s wrist, and Marian watched as a panel of stone slid halfway open. Without a backward glance Robin slipped through it and the panel turned to become a smooth stone wall once more.
“Break the doors down!” The sheriff ordered.
“Sheriff,” Nyneve called out, “there’s no need for such theatrics. I am coming.” Her voice suddenly shook and the glow around her dissipated until it vanished entirely. Moving more slowly than before, she walked to the doors and undid the bolt holding them shut. “Come in, sheriff.”
The sheriff and three guardsmen pushed their way into the chapel.
“Why were the doors barred, historian?”
“I am not under your jurisdiction, sheriff,” Nyneve said coldly. “An amount of courtesy is due me.”
“This is my home,” growled the sheriff. “You are here at Prince John’s suffrage, which means you are here at mine, as well.”
“You overstep yourself,” the Lady retorted. “And the doors were barred at my insistence. If you have issue with it, take it up with King Richard upon his return. I have violated none of the liberties he conferred upon me.”
“King Richard is not here,” the sheriff stated. “I am.”
The Lady glared at him. “Indeed you are. But I have done nothing wrong, sheriff, simply barred a door you did not wish barred.”
The sheriff stared at her for a moment before turning to where Marian sat. “Lady Marian, Lady Beatrix, are you all right?”
“Yes,” Marian said.
“All three of us are fine,” Mother said. “But your concern is unnecessary. Was there something in particular you needed?”
The man shook his head. “I became concerned when I could not find Lady Marian,” he said. “I very much would like to accompany her to dinner.”
“Marian will be seated with us.” Father said. “Come, Marian, Beatrix. Lady Nyneve, it was a pleasure to speak with you. I certainly hope we can do it again sometime soon.” He rose to his feet, Mother and Marian followed suit.
“I
am
feeling a bit tired, and we need to change before dinner.” Mother said. The woman Marian had seen earlier was gone as though she’d never existed.
“I will join you as soon as I am able,” Nyneve said calmly. “I look forward to sitting with you tonight.”
Marian felt the sheriff’s stare boring into her back on the short walk to the chapel doors.
“He is too arrogant for my comfort,” Mother fumed as they walked across the cobblestones. “He has designs on you, Mari, and I do not like it.”
“Bea, you need to keep your temper under control,” Father warned. “We’re not safe here.”
“Do you think I do not know that?” Mother snapped, and then apologized. “I am sorry, Alan. You’re right, of course. Marian, where is Anna? Did not I tell you she needed to be with you at all times?”
“She refused to set foot in the gardens again, Mother. Not once she saw the maze.” Marian said. “What was I supposed to do? Sit in the kitchens with her?”
Mother’s voice was cool and refined, a far cry from what Marian had witnessed in the chapel. “What a silly girl. If I’d known she was so flighty, I would never have brought her. There are perfectly beautiful gardens that are not confined by trees and such.” She shrugged. “I cannot blame you for her faults, however. I will have words with her upon her return. It is not fitting that you should do without a ladies’ maid because she is fearful of close spaces.”
“I was speaking with Friar Tuck in the gardens earlier,” Marian said. “I hardly think I needed a ladies’ maid for that.”
“You need a ladies’ maid for everything, Mari. I told you that before we came.”
“I did not think you still meant it, now that,” Marian glanced around her and lowered her voice, “I know the truth.”
Mother grabbed her arm with enough force that Marian winced. “Not here,” she hissed. “Our rooms will be safer.”
“But—what about spies?” Marian asked.
Mother snorted as she stifled a laugh. “Spies are less prevalent than you think,” she said. “The kind you’re thinking of, skulking around halls and such, are few and far between. Most spies are just people in the right place at the right time.”
“Not quite,” Father muttered under his breath.
Mother smirked at him as she swept past him and into the hallway leading to their rooms.
“Am I missing something?” Marian asked, following her parents.
“A private jest, and not one worth mentioning,” Mother said.
“Oh, I do not know, Bea,” Father scratched his chin. “I think it is worth telling.”
Mother sighed, but Marian could tell it was not in true exasperation. “It was not anything serious.” She pulled open the door to their suite.
Marian waited until the door shut behind all three of them before saying anything. “But what happened?”
Father plopped down on the closest couch. “Your mother, whom I love dearly, nearly scared me to death my first night in Nottingham.”
“What? How?” Marian curled up in the recliner across from him, dragging a soft woolen blanket across her lap.
“Your father,” Mother said briskly, “exaggerates. He was not frightened, merely startled by my unexpected appearance.”
“You were soaking wet!” Father said. “Up to your knees, soaked through. What was I supposed to think?”
“Not that I was there to murder you,” Mother returned, seating herself next to him.
“Really, Mother? Why were you wet? What were you doing?” Marian looked from one to the other, eyes wide.
“I had been contracted to spy on someone specific,” Mother said. “It was sheer misfortune that I counted the window panes wrong and wound up in his rooms by mistake.”
“It was not misfortune,” Father said. “If you had not done that, I would never have had the courage to approach you in open court.”
Mother smiled at him and it lit her entire face. “I am glad you did.”
“But how long were you a spy?” Marian interrupted.
“Since shortly after my arrival at King Henry’s court,” Mother said. “Excalibur made me better with a sword than I would have been under normal circumstances, even with training. Henry valued that, but could not use me as part of his guard, for obvious reasons. So he had me trained as his personal spy instead.”
“And you continued doing that?” Marian asked. “Even after you met Father?”
“For a short time,” Mother said. “But I left that life when I knew I was going to be a mother. I did not want to raise you in that lifestyle, but I could not quite bring myself to give it up entirely. Not once Prince John came to power.” She met Marian’s eyes. “I am very, very proud of you for choosing your own path, though my anger at Robin for involving you in his schemes is very real.”
“It was not Robin’s fault,” Marian protested. “It was entirely my idea.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Mother said. “But it is far too late to argue further about it. Now we all have to live with our choices.”
“Somehow I think Lady Nyneve will have a hand in those choices,” Father interjected. “She seems to be a force of nature.”
“You know what she is better than anyone else,” Mother said. “How many songs have you written about The Lady of the Lake and Camelot?”
“More than I can count,” Father said. “The real question, Bea, is what are we going to do about the sword?”
Mother sighed. “It is Marian’s, just as it was mine and my mother’s before me.” She met Marian’s gaze. “So the question becomes, what are you going to do about the sword, Marian?”
Marian gulped. “Me?”
“You.” Mother said. “It is your responsibility now.”
“Bea, that is hardly fair,” Father complained.
“This is the life she chose, Alan. While I am proud of her choices, now she needs to learn what they are all about.”
“Ummm…” Marian bit her bottom lip as she thought. “I think the sword should go back to Nyneve. It was hers originally, and she seemed very angry at you for bringing it here.”
Mother nodded. “That is a very responsible decision, Marian. You can inform the Lady of your decision over dinner. Just ensure you are not overheard.”
“No, I mean yes. I mean, I will make sure.”
“Then that takes care of that,” Mother said. She rose. “Now we need to dress for dinner. It would not do to be late. We do not need the sheriff attempting to break down our suite door in his eagerness for your company.”
Marian giggled at the idea, then calmed when she remembered the chapel. If a place of God was not safe from the sheriff, no-where would be. It was a sobering thought.
“Anna has not returned from the kitchens, so I will help you dress,” Mother said. “Alan, if you will excuse us?”
“Of course,” Father agreed.
Marian and Mother walked into the other set of rooms. “We should not be too long,” Mother threw back over her shoulder.
“I will wait out here.” Father said. He crossed his legs at the ankles and closed his eyes.
“He is not…sleeping, is he?” Marian asked quietly.
“No, he is probably just composing his next ballad. He says he can concentrate more in perfect quiet.”
Marian nodded and closed the door behind them.
“You look lovely.” The sheriff greeted Marian as she walked into the dining hall with Mother and Father.
“Thank you, sheriff,” Marian returned smoothly. Mother had put Guinevere’s jeweled comb in her hair, and she truly did feel lovely.
“Prince John has requested your presence at his table,” he continued, including Mother and Father in the thinly veiled order. “The Lady Nyneve is already seated there.”
Marian threw a glance at her parents. Father nodded minutely at her in a silent reply.
“Thank you, sheriff,” Mother said. “We would be honored.”
“Lady Marian, can I hope you might be seated next to me?” The sheriff asked.
“I did not realize you’d be joining us, sheriff.” Marian said.
“I always take my meals with His Highness,” the sheriff replied. “My place is at his side.”
“So I see,” Marian murmured, but quietly enough that he did not hear her.
With the sheriff leading the way, they wound their way to the prince’s table and took their seats next to Nyneve, who winked at Marian.
“Lady Marian, Lady Beatrix, Alan, we are glad to see you are well.” The prince took a bite of cheese as he spoke. “The sheriff tells me you spent some time in the chapel today?”
Mother nodded. “It is a quiet place to think.” She tittered. “I am afraid my time spent away from court dulled my senses to all the entertainments you have provided.”
The prince narrowed his eyes. “If that was truly the case, why did you have a need to bar the doors, thus keeping everyone else in need of prayer outside?”
“As I told the sheriff,” Nyneve interrupted, “that was entirely my doing. There was no reason to bring it to your attention.”
“Any time a door is barred in
my
castle, it is deserving of my attention. I am regent during my brother’s absence, Lady Nyneve. It would not service you well to misremember that.”
“You forget yourself, Your Highness,” the old woman replied calmly. “My loyalty is to the throne, not the one who sits in it. I have been Nottingham’s historian since before your father ruled, and my current duties allow me certain freedoms you, as
regent
, cannot take away.”
Much to Marian’s shock, the prince bowed his head to the historian. “I know of your importance to my brother. But you still have not answered the question.”
“If it is that important to you,” Nyenve said, “the answer is simple. I wished for a certain amount of privacy and I closed the doors to ensure it.”
“Very well.” Prince John turned to his right. “Does that answer suffice, sheriff, or do you still believe Lady Nyneve is telling falsehoods?”
“It is the same thing she told me,” the sheriff agreed. “So yes, my prince, the answer is sufficient.” He snapped his fingers and a servant standing behind him poured what Marian assumed was wine into his goblet. Taking a long swig, he stared at Marian across the table.
Marian shifted uncomfortably and sipped at her own goblet, trying unsuccessfully to avoid his eyes.
“
Did you notice he is here?”
She was not sure if she was the only one who heard the sibilant whispering of multiple boyish voices. No-one else seemed to respond. Marian glanced at the prince. His face had bleached to a color resembling Mother’s wedding gown and his hand, as he reached for his goblet, shook slightly.
“He is scared of us. See how he shakes?”
“He should be,”
the first voice said. “
He killed us.”
“Enough!” Prince John roared. The hall fell silent and all eyes turned toward him. The ghosts laughed and laughed.
Prince John pushed away from the table. “I shall leave within the week,” he announced abruptly. “Sheriff, you will accompany me back to London.”
“I—I cannot possibly, Your Highness,” the sheriff stuttered.
A small breeze ruffled the collar on Marian’s gown. “
He cannot leave,”
a voice whispered in her ear. “
If he does, she will die
.”
“Who?” Marian asked, looking around her. “Where is she?”
“We cannot tell you,”
the little boy’s voice said.
“Who are you talking to?” Mother asked.
“You cannot hear it?” Marian turned to face Mother.
Mother shook her head. .”And neither can anyone else. You sound crazed.”
“It is the ghosts, Mother.” Marian lowered her voice. “Or at least one of them. He told me if the sheriff leaves, someone will die.”
“Did he tell you anything else?” Mother’s voice was serious. “Like who, or where?”
“All he told me was that she will die.”
“Then we have a week to figure out who and where ‘she’ is.” Mother said. She turned to Prince John, who had seated himself again. “Your Highness, does your announcement mean we are released from our duty and can return home?”
A frown crossed the prince’s brow. “My request was that you attend me for the duration of my stay. Was that not made perfectly clear to you at the outset?”
“Not exactly,” Mother said. “We were simply informed to attend upon your Highness.”
“Sheriff, it seems you have been lax in administering our express desires,” the prince said. “Our instructions were to issue invitations, not orders.”
“I apologize, Your Highness,” the sheriff said. Marian could hear the falseness in his words, but Prince John merely nodded.
“Try some peacock, Lady Marian,” the prince said. “The eyeballs are particularly tasty.”
Marian shuddered. “No, thank you, Your Highness. I am afraid I did not grow up with this type of food. It is taking some getting used to.”
Prince John shrugged. “Have the servants bring you something more to your taste, then. We won’t have anyone go hungry at our table.”
“I will have some vegetable soup and some bread, Highness. Thank you for your concern.”
“Are you enjoying your visit here?” The prince asked Marian. “We have not seen very much of you during your stay.”
“It has been enlightening,” Marian’s voice was carefully non-committal.
Prince John laughed. “I do not think anyone has ever called their visit to Nottingham ‘enlightening’ before now.”
“I do not mean to insult you, Your Highness,” Marian began, but the prince cut her off.
“I have not been insulted by your words. No, Lady Marian, I find your words refreshing. You are like a freshly picked rose in a vase of dying blooms.”
“I—thank you, Your Highness.”
The prince nodded and at the sign, musicians Marian could not see began to play softly.
“Lady Marian, would you give me the honor of this dance?” It was more an order than true request, and Marian immediately rose to her feet.
“I would be honored, Your Highness.” She put her hand in his and let him lead her to the center of the room.