Chapter 32 #2
Grasping his cowled mail collar, I conjured the air to take his weight and dragged him along the chapel aisle by the scruff of his neck, emerging into the wilderness under a violet sky.
With magical ease, I slung Lancelot across his stallion’s saddle face down, then mounted my own horse and rode a solitary route back to Belle Garde, Camelot’s champion knight borne behind me like the spoils of war.
*
Though it was barely dawn when I arrived, Alys and Tressa awaited me at the house’s main door. They had not been to bed.
“I can explain,” I said, as they took in the sight of Sir Lancelot dangling unconscious across his horse.
“There’s no need,” Alys replied. “We know.”
After all we had been through these past few years—my concealment of self and my feelings, my secrets and evasions—her faith was a wonder. But I would never keep myself from them again.
“He insulted Accolon,” I said. “There is more, and I will tell you everything, but I do not quite have the measure of my full plan yet.”
What I knew was I had committed an act of resistance, held to the fire by Arthur’s disbelief and tempered with Lancelot’s barbs until my rebellion felt forged from steel. Beyond that, logic and reason were yet to be revealed.
“Then that is enough for now,” Alys said calmly.
Tressa put her hand to the knight’s jaw, studying his face dispassionately. “No one insults Sir Accolon,” she said, and let his head drop again. “Where shall we put him?”
The most important thing was that Lancelot couldn’t know who held him, or where he was. After deliberating on the ride back, only one room in the house seemed capable of holding him that I was also sure he had never laid eyes upon.
“In the long bedchamber,” I replied. “Mine and Accolon’s.”
I reasoned it was in a wing little used by the household, and far enough away from anything my captive might recognize.
Later, while he slept under magic, I had the lower shutters locked on the tall windows so he could not see the view of the spring, and had iron bars fixed on the smaller windows overlooking the courtyard garden, leaving those panes uncovered.
I would not deprive the Flower of All Knighthood of his light, even if my intention was for him to wither in the dark.
“Are you sure you want him there?” Alys asked, once he was safely shut inside.
“The window bars are solid and the household will be instructed to keep away,” I said. “He’s as secure as he can be.”
“What she means,” Tressa said gently, “is are you sure that you want him in that particular room? Given…the memories.”
They knew some of what had happened before, but not quite how weak I had been; how much I had been drawn in by Lancelot’s charm, beauty and pain, the strange connection we had formed.
This time, I would need to be stronger; I wouldn’t go there to look upon him, negotiate any deal nor even face him in challenge to make myself feel alive.
“That’s how I know I will keep away,” I said, and meant it.
For now, my main purpose was to bring clarity to those most deserving.
If my brother would not believe what I told him, then Arthur could observe his faithless wife’s grief over Lancelot’s absence with his own eyes, and learn the deceptions at the heart of the realm the hard way.
No more would Camelot see or hear Morgan le Fay, but my presence would be felt like knives in their backs.
Still, practicalities needed to be discussed. A knightly prisoner had to be fed, watered and given occupation, and no effort would be spared on Sir Lancelot’s level of comfort. Forever was a long time, and I was not a monster.
“I’d rather not control him with magic, lest he guess my involvement,” I mused, when we returned to my study and Alys asked the question.
“Nor do I want to embroil too many of the household. But Lancelot is clever, strategic, and can subdue any man. Sending anyone into a room with him carries a risk.”
“I’ll do it,” Tressa said. “He won’t overpower a woman.”
I shook my head. “He has talents beyond strength, and he’s not above using his charms to spring a trap. I cannot ask you to do such a thing.”
She grinned. “Why not? I can withstand Sir Lancelot. He’s not so irresistible.”
I glanced at Alys, sure she would protest, but she nodded with enthusiasm. “There is no one better suited.”
“It’s the best solution,” Tressa added. “He’s never seen me before, I know how to hold my nerve, and in no way will I fall for his supposed allure.”
Put that way, I had to admit it was perfect. “Are you sure?” I asked. “I cannot say where this will end.”
“We are with you, Morgan,” Alys said. “Wherever this ends.”
I reached out and took each of them by the hand, linking us in an eternal circle.
They kept showing me their faith and love, no matter how I tried to keep them at bay.
The ballads may have sung of knights and their honour, the lengths men go to for their brothers-in-arms, but there was no loyalty as powerful as the love that existed between women who had lived entire lives together, and survived it all through the bonds of deepest sisterhood.
I was a fool to think they needed to be kept from my despair, my failures, my vengeance, when in truth the three of us had always shared one soul.
“Forget endings,” I told them. “This is the start of something new.”
We embraced as a trio, then they sprung into action, leaving the study to inform the waking household of how things had changed. I was left alone with my thoughts, but there was no pause left inside me—I knew exactly what I needed to do next.
For the first time in months, I took out the glass reliquary and placed it in the centre of my desk.
The Shroud of Tithonus still sat within, its pale aspect slightly warped through the glass.
I put my hand on the lid, the Shroud’s effervescent vitality dancing through my blood, not a flicker of reluctance in its wake.
All game pieces had been snatched from the board and thrown into the fire. It had never been my realm to save.
I went to the alcove again, threw back the Hecate tapestries and drew out the silver box, heavy with the weight of a patient heart.
Only one other soul had understood everything I was and loved me body and mind, as no one else in this godforsaken world knew how.
If I never saw him again, it would not be through want of trying.
It was time to go to the lake.