THE DAY OF DESTINY: a medieval fantasy romance (The Guinevere Trilogy Book 3) by Lavinia Collins

Author:Lavinia Collins [Collins, Lavinia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Book Folks Historical Medieval Romance Publisher
Published: 2014-06-17T23:00:00+00:00

The mood in Joyous Guard as the days went on was tense and electric. Bors paced the courtyard, checking the men’s equipment, the horses, clearly still set on riding out for war. He bore little resemblance to his half-brother Lancelot: shortish in comparison – though still just more than my own height – and stocky, with short-cut brown hair. Still, he had skill at arms and was a brave fighter. He must have had the looks of the mother he shared with Ector, who in his youth must have been more like Lancelot, and who had passed those dark, handsome looks to his son. Ector now was tired and grey, sick of a life of wars, and he and Lancelot stood side by side at the edge of the courtyard talking in hushed tones. I knew that they would be talking about terms for peace, and I did not want to go over. If I were there, then Lancelot wouldn’t be thinking of the safety of his men, he would be thinking about me, and I could not shake off the memory of Kay’s words that this was all my fault.

Feeling restless, I wandered around the castle, and then up around the battlements. The sky was heavy with clouds that seemed almost close enough to touch, as I stood up there. Snow was coming, or sleet and rain. It would not be good conditions for a fight. The men would be more likely to agree on a peace. I would have to go back. I knew that the time would come, that this life with Lancelot in Joyous Guard was nothing but a dream. I couldn’t imagine it anymore, being in Camelot with Arthur. It seemed like another life, someone else’s life; it all seemed as though it had happened so long ago, though I had only been in Joyous Guard a few months. I could see why Isolde had waited here so long alone, and not wanted to leave. It was a little patch of glorious freedom. Escape. But I couldn’t escape from who I was forever. Far below, I could see Arthur’s tent. If it were ruled by the heart I would belong to Lancelot more than I did to Arthur, but it was ruled by the law, and in the eyes of the law I was Arthur’s property, and wrongfully stolen. I wondered if I would even fight if I had the strength to, if I could ask men to lay down their lives so that I could choose the life I wanted. Many good men were dead already.

I wandered down again, finding I could no longer look at the gathering of tents beneath me, threateningly close. Especially Gawain’s. I wondered, too, if Mordred was there, sharing Arthur’s tent, finally taking the place he had coveted at his father’s side.

As I descended the stairs, I heard floating through an open door before me, Lancelot’s voice. Hearing my name, I hung back to listen, afraid I knew all too well what it was about.

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