Part Six - The Queen.
I was there.
The day a crown was placed on a young queen's head and she sat beside the king, I was there.
De Grance's little daughter Miryamme was almost the ideal bride for Artur the king, and to be his future queen. Almost, that is, but for the complication of Morgayne his sister and two bastard heirs, born in her blood - am I cursed not enough already? My hands pulled the twin babes from Morgayne's womb, and more intimate with a woman I have never been. The Black Morgayne, who makes my ankle itch, scratch scritch; and teased mine eyes with her lush childing body and her darkened cunt.
Two children ripped from her, and Morgayne all oblivious. I saw too much, and she saw nothing, nothing at all.
Emmelyne's eyes were the only other eyes but mine to see the shroud, the caul, all around the girl child, and I bade her wash it away quick and tell no-one. I knew in an instant that it must be our secret alone, the goat maid and the goat; never to tell, but to know. To know is the best kept thing; to use it, ahh, now that is a much better thing. Dilly, dally, wait Maerlyn, wait, even 'till the end of days. The Goddess knew, of course; but I hoped she would hold her tongue and not chatter to her priestesses and predictors about the cursed child.
As for the Sisters, they were not so clever; not spotting the lust the king had for his sister, nor what Morgayne did with it. They didn't see the girl child, either. Entrails might make good sausage filler up beyond the Wall of Hadrian; but to predict the important things, well, the Sisters really needed to think of something else. Like the stars in the sky, perhaps. The twinkling stars might be more convenient, for if one constellation gave an unnecessary or unsatisfactory answer, the sayer of sooths could wait till dawn and there would be a whole new set to choose from. Truth tell, the whole thing with stars is so utterly unpredictable, I could almost believe in them myself. Twinkle, twinkle.
Looking back it all seems rather obvious, but no-one saw it then. Even the mother who carried them both, was she just a portal bag? But Maerlyn, with a tiny bit of knowledge all his own? Useful surely? We shall see. Hush Emmy, tell no-one, tra la!
But I'm wandering. I know why, quite precisely why. I'm meandering because sooner or later Morgayne always wakes, and when she woke that time, she wasn't her usual self.
"The Lady is delirious, Maer. She runs heat on her brow and her body burns." Caitlynn was concerned and uncertain. "We must wrap her in wet cloth to draw the heat out, and make her drink a coction of wyrm-root to brighten her dreams and slow her heart. It races too quick and I do not like the flutter of it."
I feared for the Lady Morgayne and feared also the king's madness if death came upon her. I remembered Artur's forgiveness of his sword and the pledge of it into mine heart; but thought in his grief his memory might not be so kind. Having only the one heart and keen on it beating on, I vowed for my own life that I would keep dread death from the Lady. My own stupid heart beating for her had nothing to do with it; I fooled myself that much, and fool myself still.
Is that rain, again, on the dry outside, or is it just here in this room, on this page?
We took it in turns, the two birth women and I, to sit by Morgayne so she was never alone. Emmelyne coated the sewn up wound on the cut wide belly with fresh honey from the hive, and she brought a little goatling to suckle at the Lady's breast.
"If she flows her milk, sire, the Lady will heal herself faster, so to feed her own babies. I see it in my sick goats - as soon as the suck begins the nanny forgets to die, for to feed proper her little kidlings. But the Lady, sire, she must be stronger to take two babes on her tit."
Emmelyne found a suckle wife for the two tiny children, a hearty girl from the village with her own toddle near weaned, yet her big fat breasts still a full with milk.
"I'll plump them up," the suckle wife said, "till the Lady be strong enough to cherish her own childs and feed them proper." She took and swaddled up the babies and observed, "Look how the little girl sees about already, the bonny wee thing. She's a lovely one." Her look at the boy was quicker, and she did not lie. "He's an ugly one, certain, with that stain upon his head."
It was true, the boy carried the king's mark clear, that Uthur had worn on his hip and Artur's stain more hidden. But this child was marked with a smear like a bruise on his cheek and brow. Not hid like the king's, but a most definite mark on his face. No doubting the son, there was no doubt at all.
"My son then, Maer, for all the world to see." Artur came and looked upon his children. "His hair, black like his mother's."
"Yeay, sire, the Lady's colour in the boy, and the little girl yours, all fair."
"Aye, Maerlyn; my eyes too, almost."
"Nearly so, Lord, but lighter blue already, I think it." The wee girl looked up at her father, as if to study him hard.
"But she cannot properly see, not yet?"
"No sire. Wait on a month and the babe's look will be proper in her eyes."
Artur reached down and touched his little finger to his daughter's lips, his first kiss, and she but two days old.
"Has my sister seen them yet?"
"No sire. The Lady is still too sick."
"Care for her, Maer. Make her better, I beseech thee."
I beseeched mine own self to do it, and I'll try anything to keep my own heart beating.
"I'll try, Lord."
"I know it, Maer. Your strangest love for my sister, maybe it be enough." His smile was gentle. "May it be enough."
It's all I had, so I gave it to her willingly. Beat, beat. My heart beats blood.
Four days on from the birth, and Morgayne's blood all washed from my hands. Turning them over and over, still seeing it red and running on my wrists; ah woman, your heart was so close to my hands, I've been inside you. Could I know you better?
I was started from my dreamery by the slow warm touch of her fingers on the back of my hand, feeling if I was awake.