The Lioness and Her Knight

  Luneta blinked, not sure that she had heard correctly. "I beg your pardon?"

  "'Defective and misbegotten' I believe is the full translation."

  "Translation of what?"

  "Of Latin, of course. Why would I translate something from English?"

  Luneta took a slow breath. "I meant, what writing were you translating?"

  "Oh, that was a bit from a theological book I once read."

  "Don't be ridiculous. There are no theological books about me."

  "Not about you specifically, Lady Luneta—about women in general."

  Luneta frowned as an incongruity occurred to her. "Why would a fool read theology?"

  "I can't tell you how often I've wondered that," Rhience replied, shaking his head sympathetically. "But they seem to do it anyway. For my part, I read that book because I was studying for the church. That was before I rose to my current profession, of course. Now, let's see if I remember the argument exactly ... Yes, I think I have it. Now listen closely: for a child to be born requires a male and a female—stop me if I'm getting too complicated."

  "Thank you," Luneta said coldly, "I think I'm able to keep up so far."

  Rhience whistled softly. "Impressive, what with your being defective and all."

  Luneta wasn't sure whether to be angry or amused. She itched to slap the fool for his impertinence, but curiosity restrained her. She glanced ahead at Ywain, to see what he thought of Rhience's foolishness, but his face was dreamy and distant, and she knew he was off winning a tournament or slaying a dragon in his imagination. "Go on," she said to Rhience.

  "Now, when that child is born, it is either male or female. Are you still with me?"

  "Yes, idiot. I'm still with you. Go on."

  Rhience clucked his tongue chidingly. "Is that how you speak to someone who's trying to improve your theological education?" He sniffed expressively, then continued, "Now, the way it works is this: the male parent transmits masculine perfection to the child, but that perfection is always marred a bit, on account of the female parent's involvement. If the baby's really badly marred, it turns out a girl."

  "You made that up," Luneta said scornfully.

  "Not at all. It's from one of the theologians at the University of Paris, a holy monk and doctor of theology."

  "How does he know which parent gives what to the child?"

  Rhience frowned. "I admit, I wondered that myself when I read it. You wouldn't expect a pious monk to know much about the matter, but when I asked my tutor, he said only that it was not for us to question things that were written by our betters in Latin."

  Luneta blinked. "What does its being in Latin have to do with anything?"

  "My tutor thought that anything in Latin had to be true. It's God's language. You wouldn't understand, though, on account of your being def—"

  Luneta didn't let him finish. Pulling a long pin from her hair, she reached across to where Rhience rode beside her and jabbed him in the fleshy part just above the saddle. Rhience yelped and lurched away from her, losing his grip on the reins and tumbling into the dust on the other side of his horse. Ywain whirled around in his saddle, his hand on his sword, a fierce battle-light in his eyes, but there was no danger for him to face—only Rhience lifting himself from the dirt and gingerly rubbing his backside. Luneta met his surprised gaze and said austerely, " Es asinus. And that's in Latin, so you know it's true."

  Rhience began to laugh, and Ywain said, "What's true?"

  "She says I'm an ass," Rhience explained.

  "In truth, I think she's right," Ywain said. "Whatever made you fall off your horse like that?"

  "I'm defective," Rhience said, climbing back into his saddle. "I think it's my father's fault." He grinned at Luneta and said, "Pax?"

  It was impossible to be angry with the fool for long. Luneta returned his smile and said, "Pax."

  Rhience turned back to Ywain. "Listen, Ywain old chap. Next time that we meet a fishwife or tinker, why don't you protect me instead of Luneta? She can take care of herself."

  Camelot was everything that Luneta remembered, but seeing it without her parents' comforting presence was unexpectedly intimidating. Riding through the great courtyard ringed with the banners of the Round Table knights, she felt very alone and uncharacteristically shy. Ywain, however, could barely sit still in his saddle for excitement. As they crossed the courtyard toward the stables, he began identifying all the coats of arms. "There's Sir Bedivere's escutcheon! And Cousin Gareth's! There's Sir Griflet Fise de Dieu's! And Cousin Agrivain's!" Luneta began to feel somewhat reassured; she had forgotten how many of the knights of the court were related to her.

  The last trace of nervousness disappeared a moment later when, stepping together out of the royal stables, they nearly ran into Luneta's famous uncle Sir Gawain. Seeing her and Ywain, Gawain shouted with delight and immediately swept them away to show them around the court. It was a very strange and exalted feeling for Luneta, being introduced as an equal to people whom she knew primarily as the heroes of minstrels' stories: Sir Kai, Sir Lancelot, Sir Bedivere, and—last of all, King Arthur himself. Of course, she had seen many of these famous people before, on earlier visits with her parents, but it was different this time. She wasn't a child holding her mother's hand, but a lady in her own right. Gawain was careful to include Ywain and Rhience in all his introductions, but it was clear that his greatest pleasure was in presenting the daughter of his favorite brother. As a crowning honor, King Arthur invited the three travelers to join him at his own table at dinner that evening.

  Dinner was glorious. Each course was followed by one more splendid than the last. Luneta noticed that the king himself ate sparingly, and then only the simplest dishes, but for her part she tried everything that passed by. So did Ywain, seated on her right, but Rhience, on her other side, spent most of his time watching Luneta.

  Noticing the fool's grin, she asked suspiciously, "What's so funny? Do I have food on my chin?"

  "Remember, I'm a fool. We're permitted to smile at odd times."

  "Not at me."

  "Pax, my lady. I'm not laughing at you," Rhience said. "I just enjoy watching people have fun. And you are, aren't you?"

  Luneta dimpled, then nodded quickly. "Ever so much! I think it's the most splendid evening of my life. It's just what I always imagined court life to be! If only there were a ball after dinner!"

  Gawain, seated on Rhience's other side, heard this remark and turned sharply. "Good Gog, Luneta! Why on earth would you wish for that?"

  "Don't you like going to balls?"

  "Horrible things!" Gawain said decisively. Then he added, "Not that I've ever found a lady, besides your worthy mother, who shares my view of the matter. I'm afraid, Luneta, that there are no balls scheduled at court for some time, but if you're still awake after the meal you're putting away, why don't you come to my chambers? I'll invite the rest of the family, and we'll have a private party." He looked over his shoulder at his squire. "Terence? Can you arrange it? Invite all the family that's at court to my chambers this evening to welcome Luneta and Ywain." The squire bowed wordlessly, and Gawain glanced at Rhience. "And you, too, if you like, friend."

  "I'm honored, Sir Gawain," Rhience said. "But is it proper for a fool to mingle with knights and ladies? I shouldn't even be sitting at this table, but for the king's invitation."

  "Oh, don't worry about that," Gawain said, smiling. He glanced at his squire again. "You don't mind having a fool in our chambers, do you, Terence?"

  The squire bowed again. "I never have before, milord."

  Rhience looked startled at Squire Terence's words, and even more at Gawain's answering chuckle, but Luneta only grinned. Throughout her childhood, Gawain and Terence had been frequent guests at Orkney Hall, and she knew that they regarded each other as equals. Terence had been Gawain's squire for nearly twenty years now and had shared his every adventure. When they were at Orkney Hall, Luneta's parents treated Terence with a regard that was equal to or (Luneta had sometimes t
hought) even greater than the respect they showed Gawain.

  Sure enough, that evening in Gawain's chambers, once it was just family—or very nearly so—Terence abandoned his proper squirely attitude and stretched out comfortably on the floor beside a lady that Luneta didn't know. Except for this one lady, Lady Eileen, though, Luneta recognized everyone there. Besides Gawain and Terence, there was Gawain's brother Agrivain and three cousins named Florence, Lovel, and Aalardin. With Luneta, Ywain, and Rhience, Gawain's chambers were quite full, and when Sir Kai and Queen Guinevere stopped in on some pretext and joined the party, Luneta began to feel as if she were a part of an exclusive society.

  Sir Gawain greeted the queen when she entered, then turned at once to present her to Luneta. "Your Highness," he said, "we missed you this afternoon, and I had no chance at dinner, but allow me to introduce to you Lady Luneta of Orkney, my favorite niece."

  Luneta dipped her lowest curtsy, blushing slightly. The queen's lips parted, but before she could speak, a loud guffaw came from across the room. "That's not saying much, Gawain," said his brother Agrivain. "After all, she's your only niece."

  In a gravelly voice, Sir Kai said, "Thank you, Agrivain, for enlightening us."

  Agrivain shrugged and picked up a flagon of wine. Queen Guinevere, ignoring both Agrivain and Sir Kai, smiled at Luneta and said, "I am delighted, Lady Luneta. Do you make a long stay at Camelot?"

  It was the first time since arriving at court that Luneta had thought about her plans. "Oh, no. I mean, I don't think so. I'm on my way to visit a friend of my mother's, Your Highness. I'm supposed to ask Uncle Gawain if he'll escort me."

  The queen smiled impishly, and a chuckle spread through the room.

  "Uncle Gawain," Terence repeated, his eyes glinting with laughter. "Dear old uncle."

  "I'm sure Uncle Gawain will be glad to oblige you," Sir Kai said, "provided his rheumatism allows him to travel."

  Gawain grunted. "Laugh all you want, Kai. There's no fear of anyone addressing you with a title of respect."

  Luneta blushed, but she looked up into Gawain's eyes and said, "But you are my uncle. What else am I to call you?"

  "'Gawain' will do nicely, my child."

  "All right," Luneta said at once, "provided you don't call me 'my child' again."

  Everyone laughed (except for Agrivain), and Gawain bowed his head in mock surrender.

  For several minutes, the family and friends chatted about ordinary things. Luneta heard Ywain asking Agrivain and the cousins about upcoming tournaments, while Gawain and Sir Kai discussed some matter of court business. Terence and Lady Eileen were talking with Rhience, and Luneta was content to sit beside the queen and feel amazed at being at her very first grown-up party. Then the door swung open and a tall, amazingly beautiful woman swept into the room. Conversation stopped briefly, but then Gawain said, "Morgan. I had no idea you were back at court. It's good to see you."

  The woman's icily beautiful face seemed to warm somewhat, and she replied, "I heard that you had a visitor."

  Gawain nodded and gestured to Luneta. "Lady Morgan, allow me to present your, ah, your niece, the Lady Luneta."

  Luneta could almost feel the force of the woman's gaze on her face. So this was Morgan Le Fay. Luneta had known for years that there was an enchantress in the family, but she had never met her—or, indeed, any enchantress. Her heart beat quickly, but she raised her eyes and met Lady Morgan's stare. "How do you do, Lady Morgan?" she said in her best attempt at a casual voice.

  Lady Morgan's lips twitched once. "Yes," she said. "You have your father's face, but you got your eyes from your mother." She turned abruptly away and looked at Terence. "What do you think, Terence?"

  "I think you should join our little gathering," Terence replied softly. "Then you could come to know your great-niece for yourself."

  Lady Morgan's face grew taut at the words "great-niece," and she said, "I've no time for that. Will she do or not?"

  "As always, my lady," Terence said, "that will depend on Luneta."

  Luneta listened to this exchange with growing indignation, then said, "Do you have a question that you wish to ask me, Lady Morgan? After all, I'm in the room, too."

  Luneta knew that it was impertinent for her to address her elders so, and she was prepared for Lady Morgan to be angry, but Luneta's words seemed almost to please the enchantress. She turned back to Luneta and said, "Yes, I do. But I believe I shall wait. At least you don't want for spirit." And then Lady Morgan turned and disappeared through the open door with a flourish of velvet and silk.

  The room was silent for a moment; then Terence rose and went to shut the door. "I would think that it would be exhausting," he commented mildly, "to feel that every time I entered or left a room, it had to be an event." His eyes rested briefly on Luneta as he walked back to his spot, and he murmured, "Good girl."

  The rest of the party resumed their conversations as if Lady Morgan had not interrupted them, which gave Luneta a chance to catch her breath and wonder why the enchantress had been so interested in her. Ywain's voice rose above the rest. "Look here, this isn't any good," he was saying. "I'm beginning to feel that I've come all this way for nothing. There are no tournaments, no dragons, no giants, no wild beasts, no recreant knights holding ladies prisoner in their castles. How's a fellow supposed to make a name for himself in such a tame country?"

  "The same way the rest of us do," growled Agrivain. "Sit on your backside and wait until a chance comes."

  Ywain laughed. "I can't do that! I need adventure! Hasn't anyone here heard of a magical beast or rogue knight to overcome? Is there no more magic in England?"

  "Is that what you want, Ywain?" a voice asked pleasantly. It was Rhience. "Are you sure?"

  "Of course I'm sure! I need a quest. It doesn't have to be magical, I suppose—just something with a bit of fighting."

  "Oh, I can give you magic, too, if you really want it," Rhience said.

  Everyone turned to look at the fool. "Is this a joke, Rhience?" Ywain asked.

  "Nay, Ywain. I'll put aside my cap and bells for a bit. I can tell you about an adventure, if you like."

  Agrivain snorted into his wineglass. "He's having you on, Ywain, and you're believing him. What would a fool know about knightly adventures?"

  "I could ask you the same thing," Rhience said casually, "but that would hardly be helpful, would it? And of course you're right that my current profession has little to do with adventures. As it happens, though, I met this adventure before I became a fool."

  "What were you then?" asked Sir Kai suddenly.

  "I was a knight," Rhience said.

  Sir Kai broke the startled silence with a chuckle. "I thought I'd seen you before, at your father's place in Sussex. Sir Calogrenant, aren't you?"

  Rhience nodded. "Yes, but that wasn't my real name. I took it when my father knighted me because I thought it sounded more knightly. I'm just Rhience."

  "But I thought that you had been studying for the church," Luneta said, staring at her companion confusedly.

  Rhience grinned. "That was even earlier. I gave it up. I wasn't much good at religion, you see. I kept laughing at the wrong times. So I thought I'd try knighthood, and my father—Sir Navan of Sussex—obliged me with a title. And in time I set off, dreaming of tournaments and of winning glory and the hand of a fair princess."

  "Exactly!" Ywain said.

  "And as I dreamed, I rode through Salisbury on a fine spring day—it was the first of April, the Fool's New Year, you know—and came to a little shepherd boy. Or perhaps not a boy. He was a boy's size, but he had a little beard."

  Terence sat up suddenly. "Go on, Rhience. You've begun to interest me very much."

  "Well, this shepherd asked me if I was looking for adventure, and when I said I was, he told me about a great magic to be found in the little copse of trees to my south. At the center of that copse, he said, was a small spring beside a stone basin, and if I took some water from the spring and poured it into the basin, I wou
ld soon have all the adventure I wanted."

  "He was having you on," Agrivain said. His words were slow, as if he were taking care not to slur them.

  "What did you do?" Ywain demanded.

  "Just what I can see you would do," Rhience replied. "I went to give it a try."

  "What happened?" Ywain asked.

  "Let our friend tell his story, Ywain," Gawain said. "You only slow him down with questions."

  Rhience nodded to Gawain, then continued. "It took me no time to find it. Not many stands of trees in those plains. There it was, a little spring and an ancient-looking stone basin right beside it. I rode right up to it and dipped water into the basin." Here Rhience paused for a moment. "I don't know if you'll believe this or not, and I'm not sure that I'd believe it myself if I were told, but as soon as the water touched the basin the sky grew dark with thunderclouds. A moment before, it was as pleasant and clear a day as you could ask for, and the next moment it was as black as night and beginning to thunder.

  "For the next ten minutes I truly feared for my life. I've never been in such a storm. Lightning flashed all around me, shattering trees nearby, and that thunder ... I covered my ears and still thought they would burst. The rain—it felt more like standing under a waterfall than being in the rain. Then, after a few minutes, it stopped, as quickly as it had begun."

  "What a curious tale," Queen Guinevere said.

  "Is that all?" asked Ywain.

  Rhience shook his head. "No, it isn't, for all I thought so at the time. When the storm stopped, I thanked God I was alive and mounted my horse to leave, but I hadn't gone two steps before I heard a crashing through the trees behind me and turned to see a huge knight in red armor approaching. He called out, 'Are you the fool who disturbed the Storm Stone?'

  "I told him that I was no fool but that I had indeed poured the water into the basin. He just lowered his lance, shouted out, 'We'll see if you're a fool!' and attacked."

  "Now we're getting somewhere!" Ywain exclaimed. "Did you defeat him?"