Lady Pendragon

LADY PENDRAGON

By

Marly Mathews

© copyright by Marley Mathews, March 2010

Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, March 2010

ISBN 978-1-60394-416-8

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Prologue

The Kingdom of Callywith

Cornwall, 510 AD

Thunder rumbled through the rugged landscape, as lightning shot across the sky. Princess Mary Pendragon was led down the stone steps out into the castle courtyard. She was cousin to the young King Arthur, and was destined for his court at Tintagel Castle. A sudden shiver ran through her. Her eyes flickered to the darkening sky. Sighing, she pulled her crimson cloak closer around her shoulders.

Her mother bent down to lay a gentle kiss on her brow, and then cupped Mary's face in her hands.

"Dearest Molly," she said, with fervor ripe in her voice. Molly was her mother's pet name for her.

Mary jumped when another fire bolt bombarded the castle near to where they stood. Debris of stone mortar fell around them, and her mother pulled her close to shield her from the wreckage. They were under attack. Worse yet, her father's forces were quickly falling beneath the brutal onslaught of the enemy. Time was scarce. Soon, the stories of their stunning defeat would ring through the kingdom. But there was still hope.

There was Arthur.

"You must ride on Wind Spirit as if the hounds of Hades are plaguing you. Do not halt for anything," Queen Mildred advised. Her lyrical voice became soft. Tears stung Mary's eyes. She locked gazes with her mother. Her mother's eyes quickly filled with tears.

Mary did not want to leave. She couldn't abandon her mother to the darkness. It would take hours to reach Arthur. Days, if he had already not set out for Callywith. She could not abandon her mother.

She would not.

"Come with me, Mama," Mary murmured, feeling despair rush through her.

How could it have come to this point? An acrid smell wafted over to her. Death. Too many warriors had already met their maker. Her mother could not be one of the many!

At twelve years of age, Mary was an accomplished horsewoman, but she was still afraid to leave Castle Anwyn.

"You can not stay here, my love. The dark riders from the South have overtaken us, and Arthur's knights shall not reach us in time. You should be able to rendezvous with Arthur's troops. You do remember what your cousin looks like, do you not?" Queen Mildred asked. Desperation filled her voice and her eyes widened in fear. "We don't have much time…you must get to safety. "

Frenzied shouts and urgent cries rang out around them: the sounds of men dying. Mary's heart fell. Even if her cousin did come to her kingdom's aid, how would he be able to fight the darkness, if her father's warriors could not? There were evil otherworldly forces at work here.

They needed Arthur's wizard, not Arthur. For how else could they combat dark magic and expect to win?

"Of course, I remember him. How could I not? He has hair the color of soot, and his eyes are a most disconcerting grayish color. His eyes always sparkle almost as if he thinks I'm a great jester. "

Her mother frowned, and then a wistful smile touched her lips.

"My dearest child, you are too impish for your own good," Mildred breathed. But Mary could see that she had been amused. The corners of her mother's mouth twitched, and if their circumstance had not been so grave, Mary knew her mother would have already erupted into gales of mirth-filled laughter.

"But you will heed Arthur's advice, and counsel. He is our High King, and he will be your guardian when you reach Tintagel Castle. You will be his little girl. "

"I am twelve years of age; I do not want to be his little girl. I am your daughter," she pointed out, jutting out her chin.

"I can not leave your father, my sweeting. I shall not see another sunrise, but you will daughter. I have had a vision. You will grow into a comely woman, and you will live for many, many more years, more than you can possibly imagine. When you reach Tintagel, a powerful man named Merlin shall seek you out. And you, dear child, shall become his student. Merlin shall teach you many things, that I will never have the chance to instruct you in. He will teach you about my people, and their mystical ways." Mildred hugged Mary to her breast once more, and rained wet kisses all over her face.

Mary considered her mother's words. She knew that her mother came from an ancient distant branch of the Celts. She also knew that her mother was as fearsome a warrior, as her father, King Llewellyn.

But she would not go to Arthur. She disliked the man. He always wanted to hug her and his bristly beard annoyed her to no end. He teased her about her coppery mane of curls, and always called her his wee lass. Well, she wouldn't take any of it. She would stay at Anwyn Castle where she belonged.

A fat tear-shaped raindrop fell onto her upturned forehead, and despite her mother's words to the contrary, she hoped she would see her again. Despite her hope, a deep foreboding lodged in her throat.

She reached up to kiss her mother, and then looked over her mother's stooped form at the full moon. A hazy red glow encircled it, and she knew that blood on the moon always foretold bad tidings. Shivering, she placed her foot in the stirrup, as her mother gave her a helpful boost.

"Remember, my dear, run with abandon, but pray take care," Mildred advised, swallowing Mary up with her somber dark eyes.

"I shall, Mama. I shall see you in a fortnight, at the Summer Solstice," she said with conviction.