“You do?”
“Do you know how hateful it is to wait for news?” she asked passionately. “In two or three weeks you’ll all go north and then we must just wait. Wait and wait. Wait to hear if Aelle breaks his word, wait to hear how huge Gorfyddyd’s army really is.” She paused. “Why is Gorfyddyd waiting? Why doesn’t he attack now?”
“His levies are working on the harvest,” I said. “Everything stops for harvest. His men will want to make sure of their harvest before they come to take ours.”
“Can we stop them?” she asked me abruptly.
“In war, Lady,” I said, ‘it is not always a question of what we can do, but what we must do. We must stop them.” Or die, I thought grimly.
She walked in silence for a few pacec, thrusting the excited dogs away from her feet. “Do you know what people are saying about Arthur?” she asked after a while.
I nodded. “That it would be better if he fled to Broceliande and yielded the kingdom to Gorfyddyd. They say the war is lost.”
She looked at me, overwhelming me with her huge eyes. At that moment, so close to her, alone with her in the warm garden and engulfed by her subtle scent, I understood why Arthur had risked a kingdom’s peace for this woman. “But you will fight for Arthur?” she asked me.
“To the end, Lady,” I said. “And for you,” I added awkwardly.
She smiled. “Thank you.” We turned a corner, walking towards the small spring that sprang from a rock in the corner of the Roman wall. The trickle of water irrigated the orchard and someone had tucked votive ribbons into niches of the mossy rock. Guinevere lifted the golden hem of her apple-green dress as she stepped over the rivulet. “There’s a Mordred party in the kingdom,” she told me, repeating what Bishop Bedwin had spoken of on the night of my return. “They’re Christians, mostly, and they’re all praying for Arthur’s defeat. If he was defeated, of course, they’d have to grovel to Gorfyddyd, but grovelling, I’ve noticed, conics naturally to Christians. If I were a man, Derfel Cadarn, three heads would fall to my sword. Sansum, Nabur and Mordred.”
I did not doubt her words. “But if Nabur and Sansum are the best men the Mordred party can muster, Lady,” I said, ‘then Arthur need not worry about them.”
“King Melwas too, I think,” Guinevere said, ‘and who knows how many others? Almost every wandering priest in the kingdom spreads the pestilence, asking why men should die for Arthur. I’d strike all their heads off, but traitors don’t reveal themselves, Lord Derfel. They wait in the dark and strike when you’re not looking. But if Arthur defeats Gorfyddyd they’ll all sing his praises and pretend they were his supporters all the while.” She spat to avert evil, then gave me a sharp glance. “Tell me about King Lancelot,” she said suddenly.
I had an impression that we were at last reaching the real reason for this stroll beneath the apple and pear trees. “I don’t really know him,” I said evasively.
“He spoke well of you last night,” she said.
“He did?” I responded sceptic ally I knew Lancelot and his companions were still resident in Arthur’s house, indeed I had been dreading meeting him and relieved that he had not been at the midday meal.
“He said you were a great soldier,” Guinevere said.
“It’s nice to know,” I answered sourly, ‘that he can sometimes tell the truth.” I assumed that Lancelot, trimming his sails to a new wind, had tried to gain favour with Arthur by praising a man he knew to be Arthur’s friend.
“Maybe,” Guinevere said, ‘warriors who suffer a terrible defeat like the fall of Ynys Trebes always end up squabbling?”
“Suffer?” I said harshly. “I saw him leave Benoic, Lady, but I don’t remember him suffering. Any more than I remember seeing that bandage on his hand when he left.”
“He’s no coward,” she insisted warmly. “He wears warrior rings thick on his left hand, Lord Derfel.”
“Warrior rings!” I said derisively, and plunged my hand into my belt pouch and brought out a fistful of the things. I had so many now that I no longer bothered to make them. I scattered the rings on the orchard’s grass, startling the deer hounds that looked to their mistress for reassurance. “Anyone can find warrior rings, Lady.”