Gawain and Lady Green Read Free Page B

guess.
    “And had I known you wanted a May King to help the crops grow, I would have turned back away, unseen!”
    “You are ungallant, May King!” He taught me this peevish, lilting phrase that southern ladies use in his King’s Dun.
    “No.” His arm comes around me heavy as iron, warm as June. “It is well enough. I am content. We two go well together.”
    In truth!
    “But you’re wearing me out, I’ll admit that.”
    “Nothing a night’s rest won’t cure.”
    “Maybe. But tell me, how can a man rest beside you, Lady Green?”
    “Now that’s gallant.”
    “But answer me this.” Ech, here comes a question! “A thing I’ve wondered. If I’m the May King, I help the crops grow, and everyone bows to the ground to me…”—An exaggeration—“…could I lie with any woman but you, May Queen? Supposing you were ugly and angry as a spider? Could I lie elsewhere?”
    Strange, how an icicle pricks my heart!
    I lie silent. Night rain sings in oak leaves and thatch. Gawain’s arm weighs down my waist.
    “Lady Green?”
    At last I answer. “Yes. You could. You can do anything you want.”
    “Anything at all.”
    “Almost. No one will refuse you anything. Certainly not something as harmless as that.”
    “The headman and Student Merry refuse me a horse!”
    “They want to keep you here with us. We all do.”
    “For your God-blasted crops!” Quick anger rises in his voice.
    “For our Goddess-blessed crops.” Wipe out the blasphemy She may have heard.
    Quick, now. Turn his quick anger away.
    Light-voiced, I tease. “You can lie with anyone you want, Gawain, but I warn you. Better not!”
    His arm tightens on my waist as he chuckles. “Now you sound like a woman of my own country. A wedded wife.”
    I am somewhat curious about the women Gawain has known. “You say that gravely, Gawain. In your country, what does a wedded wife do?”
    “She keeps her husband strictly to herself. Or she tries to.”
    “We have rules about that.”
    “So do we. But only the wife must truly obey them.”
    “What?” With both hands I lift Gawain’s arm off me. Truly curious now, I rise on an elbow and look down on him. “Only the wife must be faithful? What sort of rule is that?”
    “A practical one.” He smiles up at me. “The husband is the stronger. Shall we two try that out now?”
    “Gawain, answer me! Why should the husband not be as faithful as the wife?”
    “Well.” His fingers tease my breast that leans over him. I draw back, sit up. Wrap arms about knees. He sighs.
    “In the south, Lady Green, the husband is master in all ways. The wife’s property belongs to him. The wife belongs to him. She keeps his house, comforts his body, bears his sons.”
    “And what does he do for her?”
    “He guards and maintains her, and the house, and the sons.”
    “And the daughters?”
    “He marries them off to useful friends and allies.”
    I am not like Gawain, easily angered. But I feel my breath come a little fast and anxious. “And have these women of yours no power at all?”
    “They wear no swords.” Gawain smiles up at me. Smile and fingers beckon. “Come, Lady Green. Lie down again by me.”
    I stay where I am, wrapped in cool wrath. “Let me warn you, May King. Spirit is stronger than a hundred swords.”
    Gawain pulls a doubtful, merry face.
    Thought stabs, knife-sharp. “And you, Gawain. Are you wed? Do you have a faithful wife back in your own country?”
    Instant answer. “No, Lady Green.”
    “Hah.” Relief. “Then you owe your—what is that word?—fealty, only to me.”
    Instant, serious answer. “No, Lady Green.”
    “What! What? You said—”
    Gravely. “I owe my fealty to my King.”
    “Hah.” His king. A different kind of fealty altogether. Very well. I let tension out in a slow sigh and lie down against him. “Your king…Arthur. I have heard Druid Merlin sing of him.”
    Gawain stiffens. He goes all still as if a spirit touched him. Then he rises in his turn and leans