Guinevere: At the Dawn of Legend

The boy whom Thomas had first called a knight stood in front of his future queen, Samuel, and Aaron. The goddess’ words once again echoed in his soul. Your courage must come from deep inside your soul even for one so young. Your love of family and friends must be great. But greater still must be your loyalty to the knight’s duty. For your knight’s vow comes soon. You must embrace it. You must defeat the temptations to turn aside for your own safety. He wanted to race to the castle, but feared what might await them. He wanted Merlyn to appear, to tell them not to worry. He lowered his gaze, afraid they would see the fear in his eyes. He took several shallow breaths not wanting to taste the blood of the slaughter, but needing to fortify himself. Before their eyes, he straightened his shoulders, and looked at each of them. “We need to go now.”

Cedwyn mounted his horse and turned away from the clearing, intent on skirting the outside.

“No.”

He stopped, his slender body tense, but not ready for the battle, and turned to face Samuel.

“Please, Lady Guinevere. We must bury them. It is the right thing to do.”

“I know, Samuel, but….”

“We can’t take the time, Samuel, Guin’ver,” Cedwyn said. He didn’t include Aaron because the young boy was beyond understanding. “The renegades may have already reached home. And, if not, then we must get to the gates before they do.”

Cedwyn knew he was right, but Samuel’s plea lay heavy on his heart. He could feel the conflict in Guinevere—the fear for her people weighed against the sorrow for Samuel and the monks.

“Please. They’re our family.” The pain in his voice threatened to push Cedwyn into the earth.

“Cedwyn,” Guinevere whispered.

He looked to her, knew he was right in wanting to hurry, but resigned himself to giving in to their pleas. He would want to do the same if it had been his family, and she hers. Sometimes choices had to be ruled by the heart instead of the head.