Isolde: Queen of the Western Isle by Rosalind Miles Read Free Book Online Page A

distant roar. Each time he thought he was there, the low passage turned and led him on again. But then he came to the end of the tunnel and could no longer doubt. Brightness surrounded him, and he found himself looking into places he had never dreamed of. He took a long breath of the warm, sweet air and his mind filled with the simple, joyful thought,
I have come to the place where the Fair Ones live
.
    A great peace invaded his soul. He thought of the mother he had never known and it seemed to him that all his life had been tending toward this point.
    Whatever it was, he was not afraid. "I am ready, Mother," he murmured, and stepped forward into the light.

Chapter 7
     
     
    A mounted troop rode slowly through the trees. The long procession, bright with lances and flags, had left the broad highway behind, and now followed a path through the heart of the wood. Overhead the dark pines had knotted themselves into a thick roof of spiny green, and the air beneath was stale and moldering after the fresh spring outside. A dank morning dew on the branches dripped onto horses and men, and through all the vast forest, not a bird sang.
    At the head of the column, riding behind the King, Gawain shuddered and looked round. The eldest of the Orkney princes, Arthur's closest kin, Gawain proved his courage every time he took up arms. As well built as Arthur, and born with a rougher streak, he was the only knight who, in jousts and tournaments, could bring his great kinsman down. So he knew his fellow knights would not mistake his reluctance for fear as he pointed ahead. "Ye Gods, Kay," he growled, "what are we doing here?"
    Kay sighed. He knew Arthur loved Gawain as the first of the knights who had rallied to his side when he pulled the sword from the stone, but that did not make Kay care for the big Orkneyman any more. As Arthur's foster brother, brought up with him from boyhood, Kay was quite sure who Arthur's first knight had been.
    "You know as well as I do, Gawain," he snapped, his sallow face flushing with mild ire. "We're heading for Cornwall to relieve King Mark. And on the way, we're calling on Earl Sweyn."
    Gawain shook his head. "But why?" he persisted. "He lives harmlessly here and we hardly know he's alive. Why turn aside from our road to flush him out?" His broad face brightened. "We should be in Cornwall for the battle there."
    Gods, these beef-witted, blood-crazed Orkneyans! Kay held back a groan. "A king must know his lords if he's to keep the peace. Remember what happened as soon as King Uther died? All his lands were lost, and we had to fight to get them back."
    "So!" Gawain nodded owlishly. "Earl Sweyn could be an enemy?"
    "Who knows? But the King must take note of a large estate like this, midway between Cornwall and Camelot." He shrugged. "The Earl has a lot of tenants, Arthur says, so it's not clear who owns much of the land." He gave a sardonic laugh. "And that's as good a way as any for a landowner to get out of parting with the men and money that the King needs."
    "To fight the Saxons," Gawain put in importantly, with the air of one who understands the game.
    "Not only the Saxons." Kay suppressed the weary urge to turn over the conversation to the good-natured Bedivere riding at his side. "All the petty kings who still resist Arthur's rule, the rogue lords and knights, outlaws and masterless men—there's much to be done to restore peace in the land."
    "So Earl Sweyn… ?" Gawain puzzled on. "He lives alone here in the depths of the forest with his daughter, they say—did he never bring her to court or to a tournament?" A misty look passed over the bright blue eyes. "I think I remember the name, once, long ago—Kay, you were there too, d'you remember it?"
    Kay was saved by a sudden shout from the head of the line. "Castle Sweyn up ahead, sir, still a good way off. But the scout says we'll be there before noon."
    Kay smiled sourly. "There you are, Gawain. The castle, the Earl, and doubtless the daughter, too—you