Sons of Camelot: The Complete Trilogy (6 page)

“About Naida,” he insisted.

“Yes yes, back to the topic at hand.”

She turned some more pages until she came to another picture. It was of a forest pond, much like the one Rhys had been at today, with vines and branches hanging low all around it. There was a woman shown in it as well, but she appeared only as a face in a ripple of the water’s surface.

“That is Naida!” Rhys exclaimed.

“Yes, it is she,” Murcanthia confirmed.

“What is she?” he asked, “And why does she appear in the water?”

“As I said before, Naida is a muse. This means that her nature is matterless in our world. She cannot take a solid form; however, she has learned to manipulate the elements; wind, water and air, in order to manifest herself.”

“Oberon’s curse.”

“Indeed. You were listening, eh?” She smiled. “She whispers to humans using the wind and can hence influence their thinking by giving them ideas. There are many muses, most madrigals and playwrights have them. They are mostly harmless, in fact all seelie muses are very helpful to humans of the artistic persuasion but unseelie muses often become an incubus or succubus to the humans they attach themselves to. They deplete the person’s energy to feed themselves, sometimes causing death but mostly causing madness. I think she may have taken a fancy to you, Young Rhys,” she teased.

“So, she cannot be seen except as a reflection on the water?” he asked.

“No, she cannot. Well she should not, but it seems she has and that you were able to see her when she did.” Her expression was nervous almost as if she felt she had said too much.

“Yes, she did and I saw her do it. She seemed distressed that I could see her but she tried to dismiss it at nothing.”

Rhys’ jaw tightened and he scowled fiercely as he remembered Naida’s reaction in the glen.

“I cannot explain that, Master Rhys,” she replied simply, as she stood up from the table. “But that does not stop you from finding out for yourself,” she finished, waving her hand toward the giant book on the table. “Read it but let no one see you do so. The answers you seek may very well be within its pages.”

She clapped her hands twice and the bubble around them popped with an audible sound and was gone. Murcanthia put her fingers to her lips and said, “Neither of us will speak of this conversation to anyone, except Naida.”

“Thank you, Murcanthia,” Rhys agreed.

She disappeared around the rows of bookshelves which stood across the library floor, tall and heavily laden. Rhys sat for hours scouring the thick volume. He barely heard the gong sound for supper.

Chapter Five

“Your uncle and cousins are here to see you, Rhys,” Erasmus announced through the privy chamber doors.

“Has the steward brought in the breakfast things as yet?”

“Yes Rhys, everything is laid out and I have seated your family at the table already.”

“Thank you, sir. I will be right out.”

He slid from the window seat, leaving the book he was reading on the ledge, and proceeded through the doors out into his presence chamber. His uncle Caradoc was seated at the head of the dining table by the fireplace receiving a glass of ale from Erasmus. Richard and John were petting the hounds and feeding them scraps of meat from their plates.

“Good morning, Uncle, cousins,” Rhys said, giving a bow to the trio.

They nodded their heads in response and went back to what they were doing. Rhys took the empty seat at the table and placed some fruit and poultry on his plate. He was rather hungry. It was his uncle who finally spoke.

“Listen to me, Rhys. I have some news for you.”

Elated, he blurted out, “From home? Is everyone alright? Irelli, mother, the girls?”

“Peace, boy. They are all in good health and your parents send their best. Irelli is at Red Ditch with Anlawdd presently. They are raising a new cottage there near the lake in the valley and seeing to the new lambs and the upcoming wheat harvesting. Summer seems to be ending early this year!”

“Yes, Uncle, indeed it seems so.”

Rhys shuffled his feet nervously under the table, accidentally kicking his cousin’s dog which yelped and dashed across the room. He looked down at his plate and cleared his throat.

“What news then, Uncle?”

“Aye! Your cousins and I were supposed to return to Camelot tomorrow at daybreak.”

“Yes sir.”

Rhys looked at John and Richard, who were looking back at him. All were sad to be parted so soon.

“However, I had word from the king before I came to Avalon and there is an important matter that has been decided.”

A lump grew in Rhys’ throat. He could not shake the dread that was mounting in his mind.
A proposal! Probably to that dreadful Enid, my family has such a one-track mind. Dammit!
he thought.

Feigning calm, he asked, “What decision, uncle?”

“There is a strange force gathering in the North, Rhys. Arthur has word from Merlin and the Celts that Mordred has been keeping his hall at Ayr and that he has been communing with evil and supernatural beings there. No one seems to know what he is planning, but Arthur wants the situation quashed before it develops any further.”

“This is not good news, uncle,” Rhys said, giving Erasmus a worried glance. “But what does this have to do with me?”

“The Knights of the Round Table are scattered throughout Europe presently, mostly in war efforts against the Romans and some on the Shetland Islands patrolling against the Norse. Only Galahad and I remain close for Arthur’s protection; otherwise, there is no one to defend the country.”

“What will the king do, Uncle?” Rhys asked, sitting at the very edge of his chair.

“King Arthur has decreed that the Sons of the Round Table should be gathered. They should assemble at the druid circle at Keswick and take their instruction from Merlin on how the menace in the North is to be dealt with.”

A loud gasp escaped Rhys’ lips before he could stop it. His Uncle raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing.

“When we leave tomorrow, you will pack your things and make the journey to gather these men on Arthur’s behalf. It will take you many weeks, but this particular race is not for the swift. Arthur believes that Mordred thinks time is what he has on his side; that no one is aware of his evil plans. He will take his time to lay them carefully because once he has risen against the King, there will be no room for him to fail unless he is to succumb to the executioner’s sword on charges of treason.

“Rhys, the journey north will essentially begin at our ancestral home at Kenilwurt. It will be very similar to the rite of passage that others before you have had to endure. Erasmus knows the details; he has seen at least three generations of
Ddraig
men come of age. Is that not so, Erasmus? At least three generations, yes?”

“Indeed, sir, at least three.”

Three generations? Seriously, how old were these Avalonians?
Rhys found himself wondering again.

Rhys had suddenly lost his appetite. He pushed the food around on his plate distractedly as his family members tore voraciously at everything laid out on the table before them, throwing the bones to the floor for the dogs. Caradoc rose abruptly from his seat and handed the glass back to Erasmus.

“Be at Camelot by sundown on the fifth day from this to receive the first ‘Son’ of your pilgrimage, Rhys. Your cousin, Richard will be waiting for you. Erasmus will instruct you and equip you with everything you will need to know and all you will need to take with you. Listen to everything he tells you and obey his every command.”

“Who are the others?”

“The Sons are eight, yourself included. Richard of Dumnonia, Gawain of Sheffield, John of Leeds, Owen of Nottingham, Thomas of Manchester, Derrick of Liverpool and Henry of Kendal.”

“But uncle,” Rhys said pitifully, “Why me? I am not a Son of the Round Table. Why would the king choose me to act as his surrogate?”

“Arthur’s son is the very one who now stands against him and his kingdom. Mordred was bred and born of evil and unlike his parents; he has refused to repent of it. You are the descendant of the ‘bastard prince’ of Dumnonia, as well as the firstborn son of the Countess of Gascogne. If your mother had been a boy, you would be next in line for that duchy. Why wouldn’t Arthur choose you?”

“Sir, I am not a knight.”

“Not yet, Rhys. Not yet. You will ride into Camelot a squire, but you will leave a knight! Arthur will dub you, Rhys of Gascogne.”

He looked at Erasmus and then back to Rhys.

Sternly, he added, “Do not be late. Sons, you may stay longer with your cousin if it pleases you, but be sure to complete your preparations to leave Avalon at first light.”

John and Richard remained seated at the table with Rhys as Caradoc noisily walked out of the rooms. Erasmus ran to catch the door and close it silently. He bolted it behind him and returned to Rhys’ side. The boy’s expression was deathly.

“Do not be worried, Rhys. You will do wonderfully, I know it.”

“I am unsure.”

“No, Rhys, you are unwilling and I know it has everything to do with this girl in the forest!”

“Girl? What girl?” Richard asked, as he overheard the admonishment Rhys was receiving. “You have not told us of any girl, cousin.”

“A girl?” John teased. “We demand to know everything.”

“It is nothing, nothing which should cause any alarm. Excuse me cousins, I shall return to you presently.”

He left the room quickly with Erasmus following closely behind him. The doors to the presence chamber closed firmly behind them. It was clear and apparent that Erasmus was losing his patience with him.

“You must extricate her from your mind for now, Rhys. You have dire matters to attend to!”

“I can do no such thing, sir! It feels as if she is a part of me now, Erasmus. She has a strange hold on my heart already. I seem to be living for the times we can be together again.”

“This is serious, Rhys. Your coming of age officially marks the end of your childhood and your acceptance into the ranks of adulthood by all the men in your family. The fact that the king has chosen you to represent him in this significant quest is even more momentous.”

“I cannot leave her now, Erasmus, not so soon.”

“This affair has become much more than you have made me believe so far. I must demand that you tell me everything. It is imperative for you to do so now if I am to make this voyage as painless for you as possible.”

“Alright Erasmus, we shall sup together here and I promise that I will tell you everything.”

“Very well, but you must also agree to follow every piece of advice which I will supply to you bearing in mind that I want for you everything that you want for yourself.”

“I will, sir.”

Erasmus retreated to the doors to let himself out.

He turned around to face Rhys and added. “I am and will forever remain your faithful servant, Master Rhys.” He bowed low to the ground and exited the room.

Rhys washed his face and dried it on the bath linens hanging by the washstand. He smoothed his jerkin and took a deep breath before going back into the presence chamber and sitting at the table with John and Richard. They finished the meal in veritable silence, but while reposing before the fireplace briefly, their conversation returned.

“What is planned for the morning, Erasmus?” Rhys asked, trying to sound very official in front of his cousins.

“Well, the Lady Morgana has found immense pleasure with your performance at yesterday’s ceremony and she has asked that I express her sentiments appropriately. She was especially moved by the excellent new ale you had mentioned to her. It was decided, therefore, that you would be excused from all duties until your departure from court and she only asks that you take your suppers with her until such time.”

Rhys was happy that his aunt approved of his work and that she was contented with Amarelle’s new brew, but he was most relieved to have these few days left in Avalon to himself.

“Well cousins, it seems I am a carefree lad for the rest of my days at Avalon,” Rhys announced lightheartedly. “What shall we do today?”

Richard chimed in eagerly, “Let’s hunt together this morning lads. Maybe we could bring down one of those stags Rhys has been talking about in Exmoor.”

Nervously, Rhys tried to steer the conversation away from Exmoor Forest.

“The herds have moved to the western plains these last days,” he said quickly. “It may be best to start the hunt there.”

“Well then, no need to tarry,” John agreed. “Let’s hunt.”

“It will be too long a row; we had better take a small retinue of men and a sailboat to the mainland,” Rhys added.

“As you suggest, cousin,” John agreed.

***

That morning, six of the kingdom’s finest young knights welcomed messengers at their gates. The riders had been sent out from Arthur’s castle at Cearleon, the coveted and infamous Camelot. They had all had the pleasure of visiting the wondrous city at least once before. They had all felt the weight of Arthur’s sword on their shoulders.