Chapter 35—Morgana
Morgana watched the madly racing cart lurch across the bridge and through the outer gate, the moving shadows dancing in the torchlight as the flames were stirred by the breeze of their passing. She lost view of the horse and wagon in the curving streets until the cart, surrounded by knights and guards four deep, spilled out into the main courtyard of the castle grounds. Guards carrying tall torches raced down to meet the wagon.
From the deep shadows of her balcony, she peered down to see that Arthur lay prone on the bed of the wagon, as still as death. She smiled a small smile, pleased to see that he was injured, and also a little pleased to see him alive. His death would mean a war of succession with all the incumbent bickering and posturing of the various noble houses. While there was opportunity to be found in chaos, it was far better to control the kingdom from within. Her plans did not include Arthur’s death. Not yet, at least. Nimue appeared to have failed in her attempt to eliminate Arthur. Whatever had happened to the dragon, Arthur was clearly still alive.
She drummed her fingers on the railing as she watched them carry his inert body up the steps and into the castle proper.
She would secure her hold on the throne of Camelot through subtler means. She wanted to pull the strings of the puppet queen, not be the queen. A sorceress was strongest when operating from the shadows, manipulating the non-magical to do her bidding, rather than openly creating conflict. This had been Simone’s mistake.
A light step alerted her to the approach of someone in her chambers. She swung around to see Guinevere crossing the sitting room to join her at the balcony’s edge. She gave the woman a side glance. She had changed out of her festive clothing into a simpler gown. Her hair was unbound, dark curls cascading down her back. She gave Morgana a slight nod of her head, then joined her at the balcony railing.
“Arthur is safe?” she asked, peering down into the empty courtyard. “I heard a commotion in the hallways.”
“Arthur lives,” said Morgana, simply.
Guinevere let out a pent-up sigh. “Oh, thank God. I was fearful that he was dead. I don’t think I could bear it, if he died.”
Morgana placed a hand on her shoulder. Light glowed around her palm, and an answering glow flashed briefly in Guinevere’s eyes. “Do not worry, Guinevere. All is as it should be. Now, you should go to bed and rest.”
Guinevere’s eyes glazed for a moment before she gave Morgana a short curtsy and obediently left her chambers.
Morgana laughed softly as Guinevere obeyed her command without question, then withdrew from the balcony, pulling closed the glass doors to shut out the damp, cool night. Morning would arrive soon, and with it the dawn of a new era for the House of Pendragon.