The Knight (4 page)

“That was my intention.” Glaber grinned.

Rhys left him to finish his tidying up and went to check on the reception area. As he came around the rose hedges, his eyes caught the bright glinting of sunlit glass. The tables were set and the musicians were seated, tuning up their instruments. As he walked around each table visually measuring the accuracy of each place setting, he saw from the corner of his eye that the serving staff were already laying out the trays beneath a food tent. They would serve the breakfast dishes from this makeshift kitchen once the meal was in progress.

Rhys heard the trumpets sounding in the distance and he instinctively looked toward the castle. The procession was beginning. Closing his eyes, he could imagine Morgana being hoisted into the saddle of her white stallion, Orion, and waiting as her pages and ladies fell into place around her. Her trumpeters and guards would be lining up in front of the group and her standard bearers alongside before they would all troop out of the courtyard. Her sisters would ride as well, just behind her. The call of his name broke Rhys’ reverie. He turned around and was surprised to see two men approaching on horseback. A broad smile lightened his oval face as he recognized them. John and Richard slowed their horses a few steps from him and vaulted out of their saddles. Two kitchen attendants ran to grab the reins to steady the horses and led them away. They strode up to him and hugged him at the same time. Putting their heads together, they embraced deeply.

“John, Richard, what a surprise to see you. No one told me of your arrival for the festival. I would have met you at the gates,” Rhys gushed, overwhelmed to see them.

John shot a playful punch at Rhys’ upper arm replying, “We were rather surprised to receive the invitation so we specifically asked everyone to keep it a secret.”

“It is so good to see you, cousin. You’ve grown a little since we were last here,” Richard added with a scruff to Rhys’ hair.

He frowned as he put the jaunty black curls neatly back into place.

“He’s grown, but he hasn’t matured at all. Look at that baby face and not a whisker in sight,” John teased. “Couldn’t you have managed to grow even a little goatee in all this time, cousin?”

They all laughed at the jesting. John was the funny one. Just then someone behind them cleared their throat. All three boys turned to see who it was. Caradoc stood in full armor with both his hands on his hips, watching the boys’ playful greetings.

“Uncle!” Rhys shouted, running to hug the huge man. Caradoc actually swayed from the impact. “I’ve been looking forward to your return.”

“Aye, Rhys. I have been as well. How are you keeping? Have you found anyone worthy to spar with since our last lessons?”

“I have, Uncle; Maximus, one of Aunt Morgana’s personal guards.”

“Yes, the Gaul. He has a superior sword arm. I am glad he has favored you with his tutelage.”

“He has been teaching me the spear and shield as well.”

“Excellent! I am anticipating our lessons now to see what you have been learning in my absence.”

Rhys beamed at his uncle’s confident words. He valued Caradoc’s opinion highly. Trumpets sounded suddenly again and they were much closer now.

“The court is arriving,” Rhys announced.

“Yes, boys let us go to the pavilion to meet your aunt.”

All four men walked through to the pavilion just as the court’s procession arrived at the garden gate. There were exclamations from the ladies as they admired the topiaries and Rhys noted Morgana’s delighted smile. She rode up to them and dismounted her horse as they bowed in unison. They remained bowed until she had touched each on their heads in greeting. They rose and stepped aside. Caradoc offered his arm as did Richard and John to Morgause and Elaine, respectively. The men escorted them to their seats at the head of the pavilion. Rhys fell in beside Enid, who looked up at him expectantly. He held his head straight.

When everyone was seated, the pixie procession came through the pavilion. Each pixie was dressed in a long green gown and a pointy cap. They all carried a large white cage filled with white butterflies. They made a neat circle around a large apple tree and opened the cages in unison. The butterflies took flight in every direction through the orchard. The trumpets sounded again just as the first butterfly landed on a perfect, green apple. Everyone sat on the edges of their seats as the insect walked around the orb and settled near the stem. Then magically, the color of the fruit started to change and a bright hue of red spread from the top of the fruit, covering everywhere green had been. Rhys turned and started off to the reception area as the court erupted in applause.

There would be speeches and thanks and other niceties before they would retire to the tents for breakfast, but he was never one for pomp and ceremony. He found diplomacy excruciatingly boring. When he arrived at the tents, the men were bringing down the ale
b
arrels from a cart as Amarelle clucked incessantly at them to be careful. All the food was already unloaded and it looked delicious. There was fruit in abundance in spectacular arrangements as well as baskets filled with warm bread. Cutting boards had been laden with meats and cheeses and there were bowls of water with perfect little balls of butter floating in them. There was also wheat and oat porridge in large cauldrons. Amarelle sighed when she saw him. She came over and touched her forehead to his, smiling.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Ready!” he confirmed.

Just then the court started filing in. He smoothed his jerkin and ascended the dais to stand behind Morgana’s throne. Caradoc escorted her to her seat which Rhys pulled out and pushed forward once she was seated. His cousins did the same for her sisters before taking their seats beside the ladies. Rhys stood back and took a deep breath. The first server entered the tent with a tray of silver finger bowls of scented warm water, followed by another man with a huge platter of fruit. Rhys took the tray of finger bowls and placed one in front of each person at the high table.

Another server followed behind him removing the bowls as each person finished washing. Rhys took the platter of fruit and placed it in front of Morgana. She tentatively took a strawberry from it and put it on her plate. The court watched in silence as she took a bite. She smiled and clapped her hands. The entire party started clapping and then the tent was flooded with servers and the din of pleasant conversation, music and laughter.

From the safety of the woods, the man in the dark brown cloak watched the entire celebration before he turned and walked further into the dense forest. In a tiny clearing, he untied his horse from the tree where he had secured the animal and mounted it.

“Let us see how many more days Avalon shall stand in defiance of Arcadia,” he muttered as he rode north and boarded a strange ship which took him to a tiny town called Port Call.

Chapter Four

Earth

He took a deep breath and filled his lungs with the scent of the lush grass in the glen.

The sound of falling water relaxed his mind and behind his closed eyelids, Rhys’ mind was at peace. He felt his balance returning to him since he had spent the evening talking with his valet. Naida seemed too unwilling to give him the answers to most of his questions, but Erasmus had offered him some enlightenment. He felt fortunate to have the man’s guidance.

Rhys’ cousins had sought him out that morning and they had all had sparring lessons with Caradoc and Maximus in the stable courtyard. The grooms and squires had gathered to watch and occasionally cheer when a good strike was made. His uncle was beaming with pride at the three boys as they displayed their prowess. Rhys had shown remarkable improvement with the sword and he now had the balance and strength to wield a shield at the same time. Caradoc sparred with Maximus as the boys rested after their exercise and grasped arms with the man in the end, confirming his approval. He ordered the royal guardsman to continue tutoring Rhys as he had been found worthy to instruct the nephew of Caradoc Vreichvras. Maximus bowed low in gratitude at the shower of compliments.

After returning from Exmoor, Rhys had managed to escape his cousins without difficulty as Lady Enid intercepted them on the way from the banquet hall after lunch. She had brought Lady Margaret and Lady Ingrid to meet Richard and John and proposed they all take a walk through the orchard. Rhys mumbled an excuse and quickly walked off in the direction of his rooms. Enid was left staring after him.

He changed his jerkin and shirt and told Erasmus that he was going to the library for the afternoon.

“Do you plan on meeting the girl again, Rhys?”

“Yes, sir, we planned to meet and talk again soon.”

“Be careful, Rhys. It is a bad sign that you seem so attached to this girl and yet you are not free to speak about her to anyone.”

“I am sure that all will be explained soon, sir. They are HER affairs we wish to discuss, after all.”

“You are an admirable young man. Please never change in this respect.”

Erasmus gave Rhys a parting smile. Smiling back, Rhys turned and left the room.

***

He took the stairs two at a time until he was on the familiar fourth floor landing and as he pushed open the heavy door a voice called to him.

“Master Rhys,” it said. “Hello, how do you do?”

Looking up, he saw the librarian at the upstairs balustrade.

“Murcanthia, how do you do?”

“All is well, Rhys?” she continued.

“Well, I’ve come to do a bit of research, if you would believe that.”

“Research? What’s all this about then?” she pursued.

“Well first could you get your most detailed book about faeries please, and then I’ll tell you what it is all about.” he promised, flashing her a crooked grin.

Murcanthia soon returned with a giant hide-bound book and set it heavily on the table in the darkest corner of the library. As soon as Rhys joined her and was seated at the table, she closed her eyes and raised both her palms to the ceiling as she muttered, “Silentium orbis!” It seemed as if a huge bubble of air had surrounded them. Instinctively, Rhys put out his hand to touch it.

“No, don’t touch it,” she blurted out. “This will ensure that we are not overheard. It is just a precaution, but if your answers will come from the Chronicus la Fae, we will need to ensure our privacy. Let us get to it Rhys; I do not have the entire afternoon you know.”

“When I was on the mainland this week,” he started, “I found this amazing glen in Exmoor and took a swim in a pond there. When I looked through the waterfall, I was sure there was a girl there; she seemed to be watching me. Eventually, her reflection appeared on the surface and she spoke to me. We spoke for some time, but she would not answer my questions. She told me that you would be able to help me answer them.”

“Well! Well!” Murcanthia chuckled. “You seem to have met a faery, Rhys. But how is it you could see her?” she wondered. His deep blush revealed that there was more to the story.

“She seemed a little worried about that as well.”

“I would imagine she must have been frightened by that, boy. Humans are not to be able to find the faeries' places or see them. There must be something more to this instance.”

“She said her name is Naida.”

She looked at him incredulously. “Are you absolutely sure about that, Rhys? Naida?”

“Yes, Naida. Why?” he queried.

She sighed heavily.

“Master, it is quite a tale that I have to tell you.”

Murcanthia opened the giant book that was in front of them. She turned the pages and soon stopped at a picture that filled both pages of the book. It was a very intricate drawing full of little creatures on what seemed to be a battlefield. They were killing a man.

“Naida, as she is called, is over a hundred years old.”

“One hundred and fifty, to be exact.” Rhys interrupted.

“Shall I tell what I know or are you an expert forthwith?” Her expression was serious.

“I apologize. Please continue.”

Murcanthia cleared her throat and went on.

“As I was saying, Naida is what is known to us now as a ‘musical faery’ or more commonly, a ‘muse.’ It has nothing to do with the music of instruments but the word is more of a description of her nature.”

She pointed to the picture on the page.

“Centuries ago the faeries walked freely among us and were unencumbered by the desires of men. They went about in nature as freely as you and I and did their work of nurturing plants and animals in the open without any fear. Until a wicked sorcerer named Murganth from the Hebrides came to the mainland to try to dominate them and harness their power. A war ensued between Murganth and the faeries; they overcame him and his followers and destroyed all the usurpers.

“After that war, the faeries fell into discord. As a result of the war, they found that they disagreed on two important things. The first was whether they should withdraw to Arcadia and no longer co-habit the earth with men. The second was whether men were still worthy of the assistance and friendship of the fae. The disagreement was so intense that the faery kingdom broke into two factions. Oberon, their king, led the faeries who chose to return to Arcadia permanently and Mab, their queen and her faeries stayed in Eon, near to the Earth, forming the Seelie or ‘friendly’ court.

“But the couple lay curses on each other in their disagreement as they had never argued before in all their years together. Oberon cursed Mab and her court so that despite their efforts, men would never be able to see them on Earth; the only exception was when they were summoned by magical people like your aunt Morgana. Mab herself dubbed her ‘la Fae’ as she had proved herself to be a friend to the fae.”

“What did she do to prove this?” he asked.

“Morgana and her sisters hid many important faery families in Avalon during an uprising of Oberon’s court some five decades ago,” she replied briefly.

Rhys’ eyes widened at her comment.

How old was Morgana then? How old were they all?
he thought.

“Avalon truly is a magical place, Rhys.”

He jumped at her answer and the realization that she had read his thoughts.

“We can live here for far many more years than humans should and we do so as if just barely touched by the passing of time,” she said. “Do you remember when you first arrived here? That the ‘Rowers’ had to bring you through the mists?” He nodded. “Anyone who is not permitted to be here cannot find their way to Avalon through that mist, Rhys. We are all here as welcomed guests.”

“I see,” he answered.

“It will be the same for you if you stay here. You will age, but time will be much kinder to your looks and your strength.”

Rhys smiled at the idea of keeping his good looks longer than was expected.

“And Mab’s curse on Oberon?” Rhys prompted. He was thoroughly engrossed in Murcanthia’s tale. She smiled at his excitement to continue with the story.

“Mab cursed Oberon and his faeries to be hated and feared by men and never be able to appear beautiful to human beings. They were only allowed to exit from Arcadia at the solstices; otherwise they could not walk the Earth unless Mab herself summoned them to her purpose. They became known as the Unseelie or ‘unfriendly’ court. However, Oberon is a ruthless and equally ingenious ruler and he has been known to find many ways around Mab’s rule. His minions can be found creating mischief from time to time on Earth.”

She turned the page and showed Rhys a picture of goblins scattering a herd of cattle over a hillside. He nodded to show that he understood.

“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 as 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.