Free Rowena Through the Wall: Expanded Edition by Melodie Campbell Page B

Ivan.
    Ivan nodded, mesmerized.
    "It is perfectly balanced," Sargon said. "Here. Touch it. Try it in your hand."
    He held the sharp blade across the table. Ivan took it eagerly.
    "I will make you a trade." Sargon's mouth curled in a sinister smile. "You may have it in return for something else. I want one night with your wife."
    Gasps hissed through the room.
    Ivan roared and pushed back from the table. The dagger was in his hand.
    "Stop, Ivan!" I jumped to my feet. "Can't you see he's maneuvering for an excuse to kill you?"
    And then I would be conveniently without a husband, no doubt the purpose of this plan.
    Sargon rose smoothly and took a determined step toward me. "A woman who can strategize." His eyes blazed. "How fascinating."
    We stared at each other across the short space. It was like being mesmerized by a snake.
    "I studied Tacitus at school," I said in a cool voice.
    "Remarkable."
    Sargon took another step and reached out to touch my hair. I heard Ivan growl. Jon held him firmly by the shoulders.
    I stepped back. "I am not a chattel to be passed around. I'm not Ygraine."
    "Take care, Rowena," Grandfather said, meeting my gaze with a worried look.
    We both knew we were at some balance point where things could turn nasty at the flash of a flame and he would be unable to defend me.
    "Who is this Ygraine?" Sargon demanded.
    Perhaps I could play Scheherezade and defuse the room with words.
    I turned to address the king. "Ygraine was wife of the Duke of Cornwall in ancient times. She was beautiful and a talented entertainer and Cornwall liked to show her off. One night there was a banquet very much like this," I swept my hand across the table, "with lots of ale flowing freely. Too much ale. Uther the king of Britton was a guest, and his whole entourage supped along with Cornwall's men." I scowled at the men of Huel. "The men got bawdy, as they will. Toward the end of the night, Cornwall ordered Ygraine to dance and when she did, Uther the king was filled with lust."
    Surveying the audience to see how my story was going down, I noticed the drinking had stopped. They were spellbound.
    "Uther demanded to have Ygraine," I continued. "Fighting broke out in the hall and the men went out to gather arms. Uther raised his mighty forces to meet Cornwall on the battlefield, but at nightfall before the first day of battle, the wizard Merlin cast a spell for his king. Uther was a man possessed. He could wait for Ygraine no longer."
    I paused to take a breath. Even Sargon was caught in the web of my voice. He seemed transfixed.
    "While Cornwall slept with his troops on the field, Uther took the form of Ygraine's husband and walked right into the Castle Cornwall. He went to Ygraine's room and lay with her that night. All night he took her, wearing the face and body of his enemy so that Ygraine would think she was submitting to her own husband."
    There was a collective gasp.
    I looked off in the distance. "He left Ygraine at dawn. Cornwall died on the battlefield that day and Uther rode back to claim Ygraine for his queen." I paused for effect. "There was a child from that night. His name was Arthur. He became ruler of Camelot, the greatest kingdom our world has seen."
    I stopped there. The story of Art hur and Lancelot was a sad one full of betrayal. It wouldn't help the atmosphere in this room tonight.
    "I think I need you at my court," Sargon said, his voice thick.
    Grandfather moved to my side. "But, Sire―"
    "You will all come," Sargon commanded, his intense gaze directed at Ivan. "She can be kept safer there, you must agree."
    He smiled, the look of a famished wolf.
    When he turned back to me, his expression changed. I had a horrid feeling of inevitability.
    Oh, bloody hell, I thought.
    The guests had bedded down for the night in another area of the castle far from my room, but I could hear voices in the corridor outside.
    "What are our choices?" I heard Jon say.
    "Not many." Ivan sounded bitter. "To refuse would mean we'd have