A Small Compensation

A SMALL COMPENSATION

Gwenhywfar surveyed the busy scene in what would be the Great Hall of Camelot. An army of servants chattered and laughed as they arranged furnishings and hung tapestries. Soon, the place would be splendid. Fit for Britain's Pendragon and his queen.

His son, too. The babe within the young queen's womb gave a mighty kick, as though to remind her. Gwenhywfar smiled, patting her swollen belly. She was glad the warrior she carried-Arthur's heir-would be born in the cheerful confines of Camelot rather than the austere military surroundings of Caerleon. Time enough for that when the prince grew older and left for fosterage.

Arthur had planned everything months ago. Their son's name would be Llacheu and only Lancelot was worthy to teach the Pendragon's son war-craft.

If only you could be home from the war campaign for our son's birth, Arthur.

The Queen sighed with that unlikely prospect. She slid her hands from her belly to rub her lower back. She had wakened before cockcrow with the same dull ache, but it had subsided quickly so she had put it from her mind. Yet it seemed to be persisting. She would sit as soon as the thrones were settled on the dais.

"My lady?"

Gwenhywfar turned to her husband's seneschal.

"Yes, Cai?"

"Visitor's have arrived."

"Visitors? Who?"

"Morgause of Orkney."

Arthur's half-sister? But Arthur had banished her years ago, although he had never confided why to Gwenhywfar. And now, here she was in Camelot with Arthur gone. What to do?

"She says she has come with a peace offering. Another of her sons for Arthur's army. Shall I send her away?"

"Arthur has built Camelot as a symbol of the unity he dreams for Britain, Cai. It would be discourteous to refuse her a well come. I shall receive her in the audience room. Have refreshments sent and see to rooms for them."

"But, my lady. Arthur's banishment still stands. At least have Lancelot deal with her."

"My dear Cai. I shall cope with Arthur's wrath, if needed. What can be the harm? She is his sister. Surely he cannot hold a grudge forever."

Cai frowned before trudging off.

Caught in her excitement, Gwenhywfar dismissed the dour man and his caution. Here was one more reason to celebrate, along with Camelot's inauguration, Arthur's victory over the Saxon's and the birth of his son. How could he not be pleased with her efforts to reconcile him with his sister?

####

Morgause, Queen of Orkney, appraised her surroundings as she awaited Queen Gwenhywfar. Her younger brother had done well these past six years. A fortress of his own. One he could pass to his son. Modred, his first born, not the brat fattening his wife's womb.

The door opened behind her. Morgause dropped the fold of the tapestry she had been aimlessly perusing. A pregnant woman shambled into the room and to Morgause's side. The child rode low in its mother's belly.

Morgause prided herself on her impeccable timing.

"Sister, well come to Camelot. I am Gwenhywfar. I must apologise for the jumble. You have caught us in the midst of settling in."

Morgause wore her warmest smile as they embraced.

"But my dear, your confinement is any moment," Morgause said. "You should not be on your feet." She assisted her sister by law to a chair, then poured wine for them both.

Gwenhywfar nodded as she took the cup.

"'Tis a mountainous task, moving into a fortress. I feel as though I must be everywhere at once," she said.

"It would seem my arrival is most propitious. I shall be happy to help any way I can, my dear."

"I would be ware of such a generous offer, Morgause. I might be tempted to set you to a task right now."

The Queen of Orkney regarded her prey. How the frivolous creature tittered. In his choice of a wife, Arthur was like his father. Their mother had been gay before Uther had plundered Dunn Y'Lloc and its lady.

Morgause managed another smile as she watched Gwenhywfar shift in her chair for the fifth time. Best to leave the smile tacked on for the duration.

"I trust your journey from Orkney went well," Gwenhywfar asked.

"In spite of Agravain's excitement."

"How old is the boy now?"

"A man of thirteen summers."

"Ah, the confidence of youth. I am sorry Gawain is not here to see you. He is with Arthur and the army. Did you bring your other sons as well?"

"They are too young. Modred is only five."

"He is your youngest?"

Morgause nodded. So, it would seem from Gwenhywfar's innocence that Arthur had kept his secret from his wife. Delicious.

Gwenhywfar found it difficult to sit comfortably in her chair. She rose and paced the room, trying to relieve the near constant pressure on her back. Odd, this restlessness within her.

"Are you unwell, my dear?"

"Nae, my sister. This ache in my back will soon pass. It has been thus throughout the morn."

"My guess is that is no mere back ache. My dear, your labour has begun. Come."

Morgause was more experienced in the ways of childbearing, Gwenhywfar had to admit. But she had not been expecting the babe for another fortnight. Could her calculation be off by so much?

Strong arms enfolded Gwenhywfar's shoulders and guided her to the door. She did not resist. In the corridor, her sister by law called for serving women, towels, water, as another pain began, grew, peaked. It took longer to subside.

"Which way to your chamber, sister?"

####

"Oh, Gwen. You have a beautiful daughter. How fortunate for you." Morgause cooed as she placed the newly swaddled babe into Gwenhywfar's arms hours later. She had already dismissed the serving women and the mid-wife. "And such an easy time you had. Mine were never so smooth."

"She is beautiful, is she not," Gwenhywfar asked.

"What will you name the wee one?" Morgause wiped the young queen's brow with a cool cloth. She had come to Camelot prepared to snuff the life from Arthur's second son. A daughter was so much more interesting.

Gwenhywfar stroked the down of her daughter's tiny head.

"We had nothing planned for a daughter, Morgause."

Morgause had to have the child, Modred's half-sister. And she would use Gwenhywfar's exhaustion to have her way. But how to keep the child alive, secretly, until I can use her against Arthur?

"I pray Arthur will not be angry with you for birthing a daughter rather than a son."

"I doubt Arthur will be angry, Morgause."

"You know best, Gwen. What a clever girl. She is rooting already."

Gwenhywfar stared.

"For your breast, my dear. The new princess is hungry. Here." Morgause showed the new mother how to guide her nipple to the babe's mouth.

"My little one," Gwenhywfar crooned. "You have been my light since your father has been away. So your name shall be Helin."

"A fine name. I have an idea, Gwen. One never knows how men will react to news of a daughter when they expect a son. Let me take the child. I know Orkney is dreadfully far, but she would be safe there, should Arthur . . . And I have always longed for a girl I could teach to sew and weave. All those things we women need to know. And my boys will adore her."

The Queen of Orkney allowed her sister by law to clutch her sleeve, her features stoic.

"Do you think Arthur would hurt his own child?"

Morgause shrugged, watching as the doubt took over the younger woman's thoughts. It was too easy. She patted the moist hand on her arm before removing it from her person.

"I only ask that you think on my offer. For now, you need rest. Let me settle Helin into her cradle so you can sleep."

Gwenhywfar yawned, her head deep in the pillows and relinquished her child.

"You have been so helpful to me, Morgause. And kind. A true sister. I do not understand how Arthur can still harbour his anger against you. Stay until he comes home. I know he will forgive you now."

Morgause stifled a laugh at the chit's naifness. It was never his forgiveness she sought. She knew now what she would do with Arthur's whelp.

Morgause shivered from the delectable thought. She would indeed take the child to Orkney, but not to teach sewing and weaving. This child was destined for other, harsher lessons of life. How better to avenge herself, Morgan, and their mother for the suffering they had endured at the hands of Uther than by rendering the same upon her half-brother's precious daughter? Had Uther not threatened slavery in order to force Mother's consent to wedding him? And how different from slavery had life been for the Cornovian princesses in Dunn Y'Lloc after Mother had wed Uther?

Arthur would pay dearly for his father's crimes through his daughter's own slavery.

She stood over the cradle, watching her niece sleep.

At the proper time, the girl would indeed be useful.

"I doubt Arthur would be pleased to find me here when he comes home," she said. "Best I did not place you at odds with him over my banishment."

"But-Oh! If would banish his own sister-he might . . . Morgause? Keep Helin safe for me?"

Morgause's smile was true for the first time since arriving in her brother's fortress. It was all she needed for her plan to fall into place.

"Of course I shall, my dear. Of course I shall."

And my Modred will be more than willing to assist.