The Heirs of Fate by Susan Wilson Younkins

Author:Susan Wilson Younkins [Younkins, Susan Wilson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781412232036
Publisher: Trafford Publishing
Published: 2006-06-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Arthur stood at the crest of the rocky path that led down to the sea. The churning waters all around him matched the turmoil of his thoughts. Several months had passed since he listened to the gruesome tale of the Mauretanian merchant. He had been aware of the dangers faced by any ship attempting to pass through Hibernian waters to reach Britannia’s ports. Whining merchants had been nagging him with their complaints for years. Some had even called upon druids to forecast the damage being done to the Briton economy from the lost investments. But it had always sounded to Arthur like bitter venturers grumbling pettily over the failure of a high risk gamble. The visible threat of land grabbing Saxons had been a greater concern to Arthur than the money the merchants reported to have lost because of the Hibernian piracy. Arthur had been too busy fighting a war.

But now the fighting was over. The Saxons were defeated. There was peace on land. Arthur was taking the time to tour the lands owned by Guinevere. They walked around the islands in the midst of beauty and peace, but Arthur’s thoughts were still on war. Guinevere called to Arthur, beckoning him further along the path that seemingly led nowhere but ended at the water’s edge; the path that led directly down into the sea. Arthur had been standing in the sunlight but as he started walking downhill, the clouds threatened to obscure the light and the wind rose up from the sea. Arthur lowered his head and charged on, scrambling down the rocks.

When Arthur and Guinevere were wed, she brought into the marriage two parcels of land, which she would inherit from her father. One was the farmlands and forests surrounding Carmelide, the castle of her father. The other was a cluster of islands in the Hibernian Sea, where the weather was like the month of May year round. One particular island was known as Avalon, where flowers and tropical plants bloomed. And, strangely enough, no serpent had ever been seen on Avalon. Niniane’s convent was located nearby. This was the island Guinevere was trying to show Arthur, but he was not paying very close attention. He kept pausing, in a daze, staring out to the sea. Arthur had been very preoccupied lately, but Guinevere was certain that what she wanted to show him would draw him out of his thoughts, or at least distract him for a while. She turned and called to him again.

When Arthur caught up with Guinevere, she was standing on the shore looking out over the water toward a small, square island. Arthur presumed the island was unreachable because of the rough sea. “It is a beautiful place,” he said to Guinevere, pointing out the shady green trees, and as the mist cleared slightly, he thought he glimpsed some sort of a domed citadel. “It is a pity there is no way to get to the island,” he said, beginning to feel a little curious.

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