Mists of Avalon - Marion Zimmer Bradley [244]
“And whose banner is that?” asked Griflet, but this time, though Gaheris turned to speak, it was Gwenhwyfar herself who answered.
“That is the banner of my father, Leodegranz, the blue banner with the cross worked in gold.” She herself, as a young maiden in the Summer Country, had helped her mother’s women to embroider it for the king. It was said that her father had chosen this device after hearing a tale that one of the emperors of Rome had seen the sign of the cross in the sky before one of his battles. We should now be fighting beneath that sign, not the serpents of Avalon! She shivered, and Gaheris looked at her sharply.
“Are you cold, lady? We must ride on to the castle, Griflet, no doubt Arthur will be awaiting his queen.”
“You must be weary of riding, my queen,” said Griflet, looking up kindly at her. “Now will you soon be in the hands of your women.”
And as they came closer to the doors of the castle, there were many of Arthur’s Companions whom she knew, who waved to her and called to her in friendly, informal fashion. Next year at this time, she thought, they will come out to cheer their prince.
A big, lurching man, huge and clumsy-footed, in leather armor and a steel cap, came into the path of her horse—it was as if he stumbled, though he bowed to Gwenhwyfar and she could see that it was deliberate, that he had put himself in her way like this.
“Madam, my sister,” he said, “do you not know me?”
Gwenhwyfar frowned and stared at him, then after a moment recognized him. “Is it you—”
“Meleagrant,” he said. “I have come here to fight at our father’s side and your husband’s, my sister.”
Griflet said, with a friendly smile, “I knew not that your father had a son, my queen. But all are welcome to fight under Arthur’s standard—”
“Perhaps you will speak for me to your husband the King, my sister,” said Meleagrant. Gwenhwyfar, looking at him, felt a faint distaste run through her. He was an enormous man, almost a giant, and like so many huge men, he looked misshapen, as if one side of his body were somehow grown larger than the other. One eye was certainly larger than the other, and had a squint; yet, trying to be fair, Gwenhwyfar thought the man’s deformity was no fault of his, and she really knew nothing against him. Yet it was arrogance, that he should call her sister before all these men, and now he had grasped her hand without leave and made as if to kiss it. She clenched it into a fist and pulled it away.
Trying to make her voice firm, she said, “No doubt when you merit it, Meleagrant, my father will speak for you to Arthur and he will make you one of his knights. I am only a woman and I have no authority to promise you that. Is my father here?”
“He is with Arthur within the castle,” said Meleagrant sullenly, “and I am like a dog out here with the horses!”
Gwenhwyfar said firmly, “I cannot see that you have any claim to more than this, Meleagrant. He has given you a post at his side, for your mother was once a favorite of his—”
Meleagrant said harshly, “All men in the country know as well as my mother that I am the king’s son, his only living son! Sister, speak to our father for me!”
She pulled away her hand from his repeated effort to seize it. “Let me go, Meleagrant! My father claims you are not his son, and how can I say anything else? I never knew your mother—this is between you and my father!”
“But you must listen,” said Meleagrant urgently, tugging at her hand, and Griflet thrust himself between them and said, “Here, here, fellow, you can’t talk to the Queen like that, or Arthur will have your head on his platter at dinnertime! I’m sure our lord and king will grant you what’s right, and if you fight well for him at this battle, no doubt he’ll be glad to have you among his Companions. But you mustn’t trouble the Queen this way!”
Meleagrant turned to face him, towering over Griflet until the latter, though he was a tall, athletic young man, looked like a child. The giant said, “Are you going to tell me what I can say to my own sister, you