Brangien lifted her skirts and sprinted down the stairs.
“We cannot count on the messengers finding Arthur in time.” Guinevere paced. “Mordred will not delay. Not if he is smart, and he is.” How could he do this? After everything? How had she once again trusted that he did not have malicious intent? Morgana had pretended she was here to speak to Guinevere. But she had been all over the city with Lily. Between Morgana and Mordred, they knew where all the food was stored. And Mordred knew the city—and the secret passage in and out of the castle—better than anyone.
“It is up to us,” Guinevere said. “Call everyone into the city. Set soldiers to guard this side of the shore. Prepare arrows and pitch to light boats on fire. I will need you with me.” At least she knew no attack could come from over the mountain, thanks to her magic.
Lancelot looked torn. “I am the only knight left. I should manage the defense of the city.”
“That is exactly what we will do. Once all the citizens are across the lake, we will seal it. Everything. No one will be able to get in once we are done.” Not over the lake, and not through a secret passage. If Mordred wanted Camelot, he was going to be disappointed, and Guinevere was going to be the one to thwart him.
“How?”
Guinevere looked at her hands. Fight as a queen, Merlin counseled her once again in her memory. She clenched her hands into fists. She was not a queen. She was not Guinevere. She did not know who she was. But she knew what she was, and what she could do. This time, she would do something that only protected. No one would suffer.
“Magic.”
* * *
Fortunately, most of the citizens of Camelot were already in the city proper or had been camping on the field by the lake after the end of the festival. By the end of the day they had everyone in who was coming in. It was difficult to convey urgency without communicating panic, but Guinevere issued it as a decree for protection while King Arthur was away. There were enough empty buildings in Camelot to house most of the farmers and laborers, and the rest they put in the rooms of the castle that were not full.
Soldiers gathered along the bottom of the city, ready to attack any boats that made the journey. The secret passageway had been sealed on the castle end. Guinevere had three men unsealing it at that moment, clearing the rocks and wood barriers. If they could do it, so could Mordred, and she would need the way clear for her own purposes.
Guinevere moved Lily down to her rooms. Lily sat on her bed while Guinevere searched through her trunks, looking for anything that would help with the task ahead. She had an idea of how to do it, but it was bigger and more complex than any spell she had attempted. It went far beyond knots.
“Guinevere, what is really happening? I am scared.”
Guinevere stopped to look Lily in the eye. “Something is coming. With Arthur gone, Camelot is vulnerable. I am going to make sure nothing gets through. But—listen. If it comes to it, you and Brangien and Lancelot can run the city. I know you can. You are smart and c
apable and better at being a princess than I ever could have been.”
Lily slid off the bed, joining Guinevere on the floor. “What do you think will happen?”
Guinevere shook her head. “Arthur left me in charge. I will do whatever it takes to keep Camelot safe. I need you and Brangien to take over my duties in the meantime.”
“But you are not a knight or a soldier! Lancelot can do all that!”
Guinevere’s hands closed around the iron dagger Arthur had given her. Rock and water and iron and blood. That was it. She knew what she needed to do. And what the cost would be. This time, she would pay it. No one else.
“You are different,” Lily said. “You are—you are so much braver than you were. How did you get braver?”
She had no answers. “Lily, listen to me. You are not my shadow. You are a princess. You defied your father. You claimed the life you wanted as your own. Use that same strength for Camelot now. And trust that, whatever happens, I am glad you came and I am glad to know you.”
Lily’s lip trembled, but she nodded, then lifted her chin. “I will do whatever I need to.”
“We all will.” Guinevere pulled her into a hug. “Tell Brangien—” Her voice cracked. She waited a moment until she could sound strong. She released Lily, then stood. “Tell Brangien what I said. The three of you. And if you need help managing anything—officials or knights’ wives or anyone—get Dindrane. She can handle anyone.”
Brangien would never forgive Guinevere for leaving her out of this plan, but Brangien had to be here for Isolde. Guinevere would not ask her to choose between them.
Leaving Lily behind before she could change her mind, Guinevere pulled on a red cloak, stuck the dagger in her belt, and walked out of her rooms. She went through Arthur’s door. His rooms did not feel empty. There was a sense of him there, like at any moment he would come in. Laugh at something she said. Pull her close in that warm comfort he radiated.
But then he would leave again.
She took off her crown and set it gently in the center of his bed.
* * *
Lancelot strode at her side as they walked down the main street. The city was crowded, the atmosphere crackling with nervous anticipation. At the dock, Guinevere climbed into a small boat and squeezed her eyes shut. Lancelot followed, doing her best not to rock it, then rowed them a safe distance from where the southern waterfall pounded with relentless strength. When they were near the shore, Lancelot jumped out of the boat and dragged it the rest of the way up onto the pebbled beach. Guinevere got out.
“What exactly are we doing?” Lancelot asked.