Chapter Thirty-Two #2
Inside the castle the Great Hall had been garlanded with evergreens, white linens on the tables studded with a huge expense of squat candles.
The air smelled like woodsmoke, the haze undercut with spiced rosemary and clove, and in the corner, musicians were playing the lute, pipe, and drum.
It was crowded, people sitting elbow-to-elbow at the long tables, but for once, Gabriel hardly noticed.
Most of the wedding party was already seated up on the dais.
“Here he is,” called Prince Owain, much to the chagrin of his steward, who was supposed to be on announcing duty. “All rise for the King of England.”
Everybody did, and Gabriel felt the familiar horror of being observed by hundreds of eyes, Owain encouraging them to raise their cups and cheer.
Gabriel accepted a cup of his own, awkwardly toasted the crowd, and took a deep swig.
This seemed to be the correct thing to do, because Owain was delighted, and Gabriel was allowed to sit.
Arthur wasn’t there. Gabriel looked at the empty chair a few seats down as if he might be able to conjure him from thin air.
“That was a lovely wedding,” Gwen said dreamily, fiddling with one of the flowers that she’d pinned in her hair.
“Yes,” said Gabriel. “G, I need to ask you if … Earlier, Sidney said something that—”
He glanced up, and there was Arthur.
Time didn’t stand still. The entire hall didn’t go silent, watching him walk to his seat. Gabriel was the only one having some sort of combination gastrointestinal and religious experience.
Arthur sat down, and then Prince Owain’s wife came gliding over, so Gabriel was formally introduced, and then Owain launched into the long story of their marriage.
He only stopped talking when the steward announced Sidney and Agnes, newly wed.
They entered the hall with their hands clasped and raised for all to see, and the crowd cheered enthusiastically, despite the fact that these were total strangers.
The dagger now glinting at Sidney’s hip was one Gabriel recognized as Arthur’s, an expensive hand-me-down with supposedly Arthurian lineage.
It must have been a wedding gift. Gabriel wondered if he should have given them something.
Gwen had given them the ring, which was a family heirloom. Maybe he could take partial credit.
When they came to sit at the high table, Gwen and Arthur threw flower petals at them, neither of them managing to achieve much height, so that the couple got a faceful each and were still spitting them out as they took their seats.
“Now then, all, quiet yourselves,” Prince Owain called, getting up with his goblet in hand.
He seemed to love making speeches. Gabriel wished he had a quarter of an ounce of his verve for public speaking.
“We’re here to welcome the English king of course—behave, all of you—and his order of the round table, who have been questing up and down England and Wales these past weeks, facing mighty beast and fearsome knight, and our very own Lady of the Lake. ”
There was an explosion of laughter and chatter around the room, and he nodded.
“Yes, yes, it’s all very interesting, and I’m sure the king will regale us in good time.
And I’m sure I need not remind you all, but while the English are here in our halls, we will respect them and their customs, however …
strange they may seem to us.” The chatter took a slight turn.
Gabriel wondered what the general reception had been in Wales when they’d announced the Lancelot laws. Probably much the same as in England.
Prince Owain grinned. “But! We are also honored to be playing host to a wedding—Sir Sidney has just this evening wed the Lady Agnes, and we wish them good health, a long life, and a longer love. There’s little in this world that can’t be made sweeter with the right person at your side. To the groom and his lovely bride!”
Gabriel took a breath, and allowed himself to feel a tug of gladness as the hall toasted the happy couple.
Sidney was actually red-eyed now, like he’d been recently crying and was threatening to do so again.
Gabriel looked to Gwen, and saw that she was crying too, just one tear glistening tastefully on her cheekbone, and then he chanced a quick glance at Arthur, whose eyes were suspiciously glossy.
He loved Sidney in a way Gabriel envied, not because it was the least bit romantic, but because it was entirely uncomplicated and easy for both of them to speak out loud. True brothers-in-arms.
The pages and cupbearers brought round the ewers for handwashing, and then the feasting began.
There was fine pottage, wild pig with spiced apple preserve, fig and custard pie.
Then roasted pheasants, herons, and chickens, finely dressed, accompanied by great silver bowls of gold and crimson sauces; later, venison, rabbit, and partridge, followed by bright jellies in floral shapes and tiny eggs, halved and pickled.
Gabriel picked at each course sparingly, tried a little of everything, and tasted nothing, then washed it all away with wine.