The Hundreth Tear: Part III

But when Morgan with lifted hand
Moved down the hall, they louted low:
For she was Queen of Shadowland,
That woman of snow.
- Morgan Le Fay

Madison Cawein (1865-1914)

"What a lovely child! Is he yours?"

Gwyneira shielded her eyes against the sun's glare and squinted at the woman a few feet away. It was a bright morning in Caerleon Market, and the sun shining so behind the speaker made it difficult at first to recognize her. "Yes. This is my son, Amr." She set her hand gently on the boy's shoulder. " He is my heart's treasure."

"And well can I see why. I know you, I think. You are Gwyneira verch Mael, aren't you, Gorfan's daughter? Your mother was kind to me when I visited your farm as a child." The other now stepped closer and joined Gwyneira beneath the shade of the merchant's awning, and smiled. She was as tall as Gywneira, but dark where she was fair, and with cool gray eyes. "How is your mother?"

"Mother is well and busier than ever. Forgive me, but how long ago did you visit Glynebwy? I don't recall meeting you. Yet there is something familiar…"

The woman laughed. "You were barely older than your son at the time. There is no reason you would recall an anxious young girl, on her way to the Orkneys to be wed to a man she'd never met. Your mother did what she could to calm my nerves. I was very grateful to her."

"Orkney? You are Morgaine? Majesty, forgive me, I didn't see…" The younger woman would have curtsied had not the Queen of Orkney put out a hand and stopped her.

"Please don't, Gwyneira. Can't we just be two mothers shopping in the market? Sometimes I need to get away from all the scraping and bowing." Morgaine smiled, and in that moment, Gwyneira knew why her face had seemed familiar.

This was Arthur's half-sister.

A small dark haired boy came running over to grab hold of Morgaine's skirts and tug at them. She smiled down at him. "Medraut, what did I tell you about interrupting me when I am talking with someone. Go find your brothers and I'll be along shortly." She loosened the child's hands and sent him on his way with a gentle tap to the bottom. "Go on!" She turned back to Gwyneira. "Boys are such a handful. Sometimes I wish I'd had a daughter instead of all four boys. Do you have any other children?"

"No, only Amr. He's festival get." Amr, for his part, stood quietly by his mother, fingers in mouth, blue eyes staring curiously at the stranger. "I've only him. At least until I've married and had more with my husband."

Morgaine smiled. "Gwyneira, you needn't dissemble with me Mael fairly burst with pride when my brother visited your farm, and went away after planting his seed. I am pleased to see Arthur's son is like to grow up into a handsome man and a strong warrior. He favors you though, doesn't he? Ah well. Only Medraut favors my side; the rest of the children have Lot's red hair."

Despite the warmth of the day, Gwyneira suddenly felt cold. She reached down to take Amr's hand out of his mouth. " I think you're tired. Perhaps I should take you home and come back on the morrow by myself." She straightened and forced a smile to Morgaine. "I really should go. It has been an honor to meet you." She frowned as Amr squirmed away and grabbed an apple from the farmer's stand, then took a bite from it before she could make him put it back. She dug a coin out of her purse and paid the man as Morgaine smiled.

"And for me as well. Remember me to your parents." With that, Morgaine of Orkney smiled, and then turned away, calling her sons to her side.

**********

This could not be happening. It could not!
Not her daughter, not Gwyneira...
Gorfan sat numbly in the church as the priest chanted and a cloud of incense settled on her daughter's bier. Mael was beside her, rigid in his grief but no tears from him, oh no, not from a man, even for their only child. Gorfan was tearless as well, but she'd cried all hers two days ago when she'd found Gwyneira dead in the garden, her face blackened from choking on the bite of an apple, poor Amr tugging on her sleeve to try to wake her. It had taken only a glance to tell her daughter was gone from her forever.

Everything since had seemed unreal.

"Gorfan? It's over, daro."

She looked up at her husband, and then realized the others had all left. Even Gwyneira's bier was gone. "Where is she? Where is my daughter?"

"Outside, in the graveyard. The priest is waiting for us. Only a little more, and it will be over. " He held out his callused hand and she took it as he helped her up. Amr stood beside his grandfather, eyes brimming with his own tears, and Gorfan silently rebuked herself for not thinking of the boy's grief. She held out her other hand.

"Come along, Amr. Let's see this through."

When the priest was done, and they'd laid poor Gywneira to rest, the three thanked those who'd come and walked back to where their horses waited. Before they could leave, a black clad woman walked over to place her hand on Gorfan's arm.

"I am so sorry, Lady Gorfan. I'd sent the apples for the boy, he seemed to like them when I'd seen him and his mother last week at the market. I swear, Gorfan, I never expected this to happen." Morgaine brushed at her eyes as if to wipe away tears. "I am so sorry." She stepped back as Mael helped Gorfan mount her horse, then raised a hand in farewell. "You might consider sending Amr to stay awhile with us. He is, after all, my brother's son. Think on it, and let me know." Then Morgaine of Orkney turned and walked away.

But it took a few days before Gorfan's grief gave way to thought, and consideration of Morgaine's words.