After, he told her where it was he had to go and she felt all the griefs of the worlds return to rest in her. She was clear, though; she had spun free from Rakoth, and she was stronger for every single thing she had survived, as Matt had said. She rose up and stood in the sunlight of the room, clad only in her hair, and said, “You must come back to me. What I told you before is true: there is no Lancelot here. It has changed, Arthur. Only the two of us are here now, only us.”
In the slant of sun she watched the stars sliding through his eyes. The summer stars, whence he had come. Slowly he shook his head, and she ached for his age and his weariness.
“It cannot be so,” he said. “I killed the children, Guinevere.”
She could find nothing at all to say. In the silence she could almost hear the patient, inexorable shuttling of the Loom.
Saddest story of all the long tales told.
Chapter 14
In the morning came Arthur and Guinevere together out of Paras Derval to the great square before the palace gates. Two companies were gathered there, one to ride north, the other west to the sea, and there was not a heart among all those assembled that did not lift to see the two of them together.
Dave Martyniuk, waiting behind Levon for the signal to ride, looked past the five hundred men Aileron had given them to lead to the Plain, and he gazed at Jennifer with a memory flaring in his mind.
The very first evening: when Loren had told the five of them who he really was, and Dave, disbelieving and hostile, had stormed toward the door. To be stopped by Jennifer saying his name. And then, as he had turned, by a majesty he saw in her face. He could not have named it then, nor did he have words for it now, but he saw the same thing in her this morning and it was not transitory or ephemeral.
She left Arthur’s side and walked, clad in a gown green as her eyes, green as the grass, to where he stood. Something of irresolution must have showed in his face, because as she came near he heard her laugh and say, “If you so much as start to bow or anything like that, Dave, I’ll beat you up. I swear I will.”
It was good to hear her laugh. He checked the bow he had, in fact, been about to offer and, instead, surprised them both by bending to kiss her cheek.
“Thank you,” she said and took his hand in hers.
He smiled down on her and, for once, didn’t feel awkward or uncouth.
Paul Schafer came up to join them, and with her other hand Jennifer claimed one of his. The three of them stood, linked so, for a moment.
“Well,” said Dave.
Paul looked soberly at him. “You’re going right into it, you know.”
“I know,” Dave replied. “But if I have a place in this, I think it’s with the Dalrei. It . . . won’t be any easier where you’re heading.” They were silent amid the bustle and clatter of the square. Then Dave turned to Jennifer. “I’ve been thinking about something,” he said. “Way back, when Kim took you out of . . . that place, Kevin did something. You won’t remember, you were unconscious then, but he swore vengeance for what had been done to you.”
“I remember,” said Paul.
“Well,” Dave went on, “he must have wondered how he would ever do it, but . . . I’m thinking that he found a way.”
There was sunshine pouring down from a sky laced with scattered billows of clouds. Men in shirt sleeves walked all around them.
“He did more,” said Jennifer, her eyes bright. “He got me all the way out. He finished what Kim started.”
“Damn,” said Paul gently. “I thought it was my charm.” Remembered words, not his own.
Tears, laughter, and they parted.
Sharra watched the Aven’s handsome son lead five hundred men away to the north. Standing with her father near the chariots, she saw Jennifer and Paul walk back to join the company that would soon be riding west. Shalhassan was going with them as far as Seresh. With the snow melted, there was urgent need now for his additional troops and he wanted to give his own orders in Cynan.