Graphic overlay (c)2015 by Kim Headlee. |
My vision of the Arthurian legends, fortunately for you the reader, is so very unlike "most"—indeed, all—other variants that you must read it for yourself to experience what I mean.
Today's excerpt finishes Chapter 8 with Morghe and Urien taking the final plunge into matrimony… Morghe's way, of course.
Previous excerpts of Raging Sea
Raging Sea Chapter 8, Scene 3b
©2015 by Kim Headlee
All rights reserved.
Morghe’s gaze met Urien’s and her lips curved into the sultry smile that always made his blood heat. He couldn’t help but return it.
Arthur placed her hand into Urien’s, gave a sharp nod to both of them, and withdrew to stand between his wife and mother.
The priest rambled on about the sanctity of marriage, and then bade Urien and Morghe recite vows to honor and cherish and respect each other. Urien mouthed his way through the affirmations while silently urging time to speed ahead to the ceremonial kiss.
“Do you, Chieftain Urien map Dumarec, vow to protect your lady wife Morghe ferch Uther from all hurt and harm?” asked the priest.
“Of course I do.” To have said anything else in front of Arthur and his mother and their allies would have been gross stupidity.
The holy man nodded and turned to Morghe. “And do you, Lady Morghe, vow to obey your lord husband Urien in all things?”
“I will,” she said in a tone worthy of a battlefield commander, “as Chieftainess of Clan Moray.” Into the crowd’s shocked silence, she reached up and laid her hand on Urien’s cheek. It was warm and had a fragrant, earthy scent. He felt his flesh tingle under her touch, and lust flared within him. “Isn’t that right, my love?”
His emotional self screamed at him to deny her, arguing that this was a foolish move that could only lead to chaos. His logical half recalled the points she had made about the Council of Chieftains and other ways that she could assist him as chieftainess that would never be permitted her otherwise.
He surveyed his clan and the other guests, all of whom were regarding him with varying degrees of confusion, expectation, curiosity, skepticism, or encouragement.
Urien caught another whiff of Morghe’s tantalizing scent and reached a decision. He unpinned his boar brooch, removed his black clan mantle, and with a flourish draped it around Morghe’s shoulders. Its lower hem pooled across the rock.
The silence was broken by the sound of one pair of gloved hands clapping; Gyanhumara’s, he realized with no small shock. He cocked an eyebrow at her, and she responded with a respectful nod.
Soon the applause swelled as her men, Arthur, Ygraine, and others added their accolades. Urien glanced at Morghe. Her smile was radiant.
“We have completed our vows. Have you not a proclamation to make?” Urien asked the priest, who was not clapping and appeared to be viewing this deviation from the proceedings with stunned disbelief.
“A proclamation? Oh—of course, my lord.” The man raised his arms. “In the sight of God and all you honored witnesses, I proclaim the lawful wedded union of Urien map Dumarec and Morghe ferch Uther, Chieftain . . . and Chieftainess of Clan Moray. May your union be fruitful and may your days be forever blessed.”
The cheers sounded very far away as Urien lifted Morghe’s veil and their lips met for the first time as husband and wife. She gave his lower lip a playful nibble. He submerged his surprise and nibbled back, earning him a demure giggle from his wife.
Their days—and nights—just might be blessed indeed.
At last they parted, and he treasured her sultry smile that hinted at those blessings to come. Hand in hand they turned toward the sea of smiling faces. With one voice he and his wife announced, “Let the festivities begin!”
*** The End of Chapter 8 ***
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...and each action this month is good for one chance to win an e-book copy of King Arthur's Sister in Washington's Court. Please enter often, and good luck!
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