Guinevere's Gamble by Nancy McKenzie

Author:Nancy McKenzie [McKenzie, Nancy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-375-85360-9
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2009-09-09T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Answered Prayers

Princess Morgan bent over her black bowl and stared into its inky depths. Her lips moved in a muttered incantation, while around her the heavy stillroom air, dark and stuffy with herb-scent, breathed on the back of her neck. Night sounds came muted through the tent walls. The dim halo of a solitary candle provided the only light.

She focused her gaze on the oily surface of the liquid and waited in utter stillness for something to appear. She counted her own heartbeats to measure time—thirty, fifty, one hundred, two hundred—but nothing came to her out of the night. All she could see in the black bowl was her own wavering reflection. For the third night in a row, the Goddess had refused to answer her summons.

“Beg pardon, my lady, but you’ve a visitor without.”

Morgan turned hastily, startled by Marcia’s voice. “Don’t ever interrupt me in the stillroom!”

Marcia curtsied to the ground. “I beg pardon, my lady, but I am told that the matter is an urgent one.”

“By whom? Who goes calling at such an hour?”

“Lord Riall of Caer Narfon, m’lady. He begs your indulgence.”

She remembered Lord Riall, a thin man with untidy red-brown hair and a straggling beard, one of Queen Alyse’s poor relations. He could have nothing to say that would justify the lateness of the hour, and it was on the tip of her tongue to refuse him when she recalled the black bowl and her prayers to the Goddess. Perhaps Lord Riall’s call was no coincidence….

“Tell Lord Riall I will be with him shortly,” she said, “and shake out my crimson gown. Oh, and I’ll wear the crown of pearls my brother gave me.”

Marcia’s eyes widened. “For Lord Riall?”

“I think so. Yes.”

“But it’s all packed away. For when we are presented to …” her voice trailed away to return on a warning note. “What are you after, Morgan?”

A half smile touched Morgan’s lips. “I have a feeling about this visit. It could be important.”

“I can’t see how.”

“No, of course you can’t.”

Marcia scowled. “That circlet was given to you for—”

“Precisely. It was given to me. It’s mine, and I have decided to wear it. Do as I say, Marcia. Unpack it.”

* * *

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