by Regan Walker
“I will not allow him to die. If there is a breath left in me, I will make him well.”
“Just as I thought.” Isabelle nodded.
“What?”
“Methinks that you are in love with Nicholas. You might as well admit the fact,” Isabelle told her firmly.
“I-I don’t know. I do feel something for my brave knight.” A cold knot formed in Noelle’s stomach. She couldn’t deny the evidence any longer. “Enough of this nonsense. I must get some water into him. Help me lift his head before you leave.”
Isabelle moved to the other side of the bed and pulled Nicholas up so Noelle could get the liquid down him. Nicholas coughed and twisted but finally the task was accomplished.
“Why don’t you go and try to sleep. It has been two days now, and you must rest yourself,” Isabelle said.
“I cannot. Nicholas could get worse. Perhaps the night will bring the end to his fever. Now go and prepare the barley, and daydream of your own knight. You have picked one out?”
“Aye. I like Dirk,” Isabelle admitted. “There is just something about that Scotsman that draws me to him and makes me smile. I get a funny feeling whenever he is near me. Do you know what I mean?”
Noelle smiled. “Aye. I do know such a feeling. Your Scotsman is a fine one. Now, be off with you.”
Isabelle returned, and they managed to get the brew into Nicholas. Then Isabelle left Noelle alone with Nicholas. Now the long task of waiting lay before her.
Noelle bathed Nicholas down when his fever seemed to reach a high as the sunset brought about the end of the day. Sometime in the wee hours of morning, when she couldn’t hold her head up any longer, she pulled the chair as close to the bed as she could and again placed her hand on Nicholas’s arm and went to sleep.
Sometime in the early morning, Noelle jerked awake. The skin beneath her hand was damp and clammy. She glanced at Nicholas and saw that he stared at her, his eyes still weak and glassy from the fever.
“Why are you in my bed?” Nicholas asked in a raspy voice, then added, “water.”
Noelle rose slowly. She was still stiff from sleep and chilled to the bone. The fire had gone out during the night and no one had been there to toss on another log. “I’m not in your bed. You are in Arthur’s castle,” Noelle explained. She poured some fresh water into the basin and then into a cup. Her back and legs protested from being in a cramped position for so long, but she forced herself to move. She brought the cup back to Nicholas. He managed to prop up on one elbow and take a few sips of water.
“How do you feel this morning?” Noelle asked.
Nicholas blinked several times. His eyes felt as though they had sand in them. Where was he? He could remember coming back to Camelot, but nothing more. And why was Noelle at his bedside? If he’d propositioned her, he could remember nothing. He looked at her again. She looked very tired and there were dark circles under her eyes.
“Where am I? And why do I feel so ragged?”
“I just told you. You are in the castle’s north tower.” She took the cup from him. “Dirk brought you here because you were burning with fever. Remember that wet surcoat?”
“Aye. I remember now,” Nicholas said as he sagged back against the pillows. “How long have I been here?”
“It is the third day.”
Nicholas looked puzzled. “And why are you here?”
“I have always had the gift of healing, so I was called to attend you.” Noelle smiled as she looked down at him. “I am glad to see that I have not lost my touch.
Nicholas frowned. “I am sorry that you were burdened with me,” he said.
He was taking this all wrong, Noelle thought, so she rushed to tell him. “I chose to take care of you.”
“Why?”
Noelle stared at him long and hard. She didn’t know how to put her feeling into words ... words he probably wouldn’t believe, anyway. “I honestly do not know,” she finally said.
“Have you been here the whole time?”
“Aye.”
“Then I am grateful.”
“It was probably my fault that you are sick. It’s the least I could do,” she said.
“Then you watched me out of duty?”
“Do not twist my words, sir.” That wasn’t what Noelle wanted Nicholas to think. But what could she say? “I stayed because I cared about what happened to you,” she said almost in a whisper.
Nicholas felt as if his breath had been sucked from him. He reached over and took Noelle’s hand and held it. As he stared at her, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, but he did know that her words pleased him a great deal. He wanted to pull her closer and just be near her for a moment, but before he could react to his thoughts, the door opened.
“How is my cousin?” King Arthur asked.
Noelle jerked her hand from Nicholas’s and curtsied to the king. “His fever must have broken during the night, sire,” Noelle said.
“Good.” Arthur nodded. “We cannot have him getting lazy by staying in bed so much. And I admire you, milady. You have stayed the entire time with him when you could have had a servant relieve you. But now I think that you need your rest, too.”
“But sire, Nicholas might need something,” Noelle protested, not wanting to leave just yet.
“The king is right,” Nicholas said. “You need your rest. Matlida can fetch me something to eat and drink. Besides which, I have lingered in this bed much too long as it is.”
Arthur looked at Nicholas. “You should rest for at least another day. You will need your strength. Meleagant is acting up again, attacking villages down south.”
Nicholas attempted to rise. “I will go, sire.” However, the words didn’t match his strength—he collapsed back onto the bed.
“I think not,” Arthur said. “Rest now, and I will have Matilda come to look in on you.”
Arthur took Noelle by the elbow so she didn’t get a chance to protest again. Once they were out in the hall, Arthur said, “Thank you for attending Nicholas. I am sure he received better care than he could have from our leech. I have heard how good you are with your herbs. I now see for myself that the rumors are true.”
“It was the least I could do after Sir Nicholas came to my rescue yestereve.”
“I wanted to tell you that I have sent Sir Gavin to deal with Meleagant. Your banns have been posted for your forthcoming marriage so you can marry during the Christmas season, but I cannot tell you which day.”
Now was the time to tell the king, Noelle thought. She should tell him that she wished to marry no one. But he’d argue that it was time to marry, and how could you argue with a king? Noelle opened her mouth to protest, but the words were not forthcoming. So she merely nodded as they walked down the corridors.
Upon entering the Great Hall, she saw a small table had been sent up near the throne with a small chair on the other side.
“Have you enjoyed your time at Camelot?” Arthur asked.
“Aye, sire. It is truly beautiful here.” Noelle glanced around. “I see the hall has not been completely decorated.”
“Guinevere and your ladies have gone to fetch more greenery,” Arthur said. “After you have rested, you can join in the festivities. Come, sit with me. I have had some food prepared.”
Noelle could smell the barley bread as she took her seat. There was a mound of honey butter on a small trencher, and the main dish was fruit and salmon pie topped with almonds and saffron.
Arthur adjusted his sword so he could sit down. The gold hilt that glittered with encrusted rubies and emeralds caught Noelle’s attention.
“It is truly a magnificent sword,” Noelle said as she sliced the loaf of bread. “Sir Lancelot told us the story of how you pulled the sword from the stone. But he said this sword is not one and the same. I would have thought that a sword which could pierce stone would last forever.”
Arthur picked up a slice of cheese. “One would think so,” he chuckled. “But my first sword was shattered when I fought King Pe
llinore.”
Noelle placed the knife on the table, then picked up her chalice. “Where did you get this one?”
“Should I bore you with such a story, milady?”
“Please do. For it interests me.”
“I was given this sword by the Lady of the Lake.” He paused to drink his mead. “When I destroyed my other sword I asked Merlin where to find another, and he said, Cease to trouble. I know of only one good sword; it is in a lake inhabited by fairies. Thus if you are able to gain this sword, it will last you through to the end.
“So we rode close by the sea, then turned left towards a mountain, and thus came to a lake where Merlin asked me how the lake looked. I told him that it looked extremely deep.” Arthur chuckled and placed his chalice back on the table.
“What did he say?” Noelle prompted.
“Merlin told me that no man had ever entered the lake without the permission of the fairies and not died as a consequence. However, the sword of which Merlin just spoke was in the lake. I merely looked at him, wondering how I could obtain that sword. It seemed to be a daunting task. Then I happened to glance back at the lake, and I saw a sword appear from beneath the waters, held aloft by a hand and arm clad in white samite. It was so beautiful. It took one’s breath.
“I gaped at Merlin and he nodded. The sword of which I told you.
“I was about to ask him how I was supposed to retrieve the sword when a damsel came towards us, gliding over the surface of the lake as if she were on the wings of a dove. She was so beautiful, clothed in a sea-green garment with long, flowing red hair.”
“Who was she?” Noelle asked as she nibbled on some cheese.
Arthur leaned over and said, “Merlin told me, This is the Lady of the Lake. Within the lake is a rock and inside the rock is the fairest place on earth. This is where the Lady lives. She is the only one who can give you the sword.
“Finally, the damsel was standing in front of me, and I asked her what sword was that yonder and that I wished it were mine, for I had no sword.” Arthur shifted on his throne. “She said the sword was mine, and called Excalibur, which means cut-steel. It is a sword of destiny which can be wielded only by a king.
“I asked her what I had to do to obtain this sword, and she told me, I will give you the sword if you will give me a gift when I ask it of you." Arthur chuckled as he reached for a piece of cheese. “I told her I’d give her whatever gift she asked for.
“So I boarded the barge and rowed to the place where the sword came out of the water. Taking a deep breath, I gripped it by the hilt, and the hand and arm sank back beneath the water. When we reached the shore, the damsel had gone. So I received the most beautiful sword in all the land with the condition that before I die I must return the sword to the Lady of the Lake.”
“I hope that will be a long time coming, sire,” Noelle said with a smile. “What a beautiful story. Will the sword always keep you safe?”
The king wiped his mouth, then leaned forward with a very serious expression. “Which do you think is the better, the sword or the scabbard?” Arthur finally asked.
Noelle looked at him, puzzled. “The sword.”
“Nay.” Arthur shook his head. “Exactly the same thing I said. But Merlin advised me that the scabbard is worth ten of the sword, for while I wear the scabbard I shall never lose a drop of blood, however sorely wounded I am. Therefore, I always keep the scabbard on me.”
“The Lady of the Lake was correct . . . Excalibur is a sword worthy of a king,” Noelle said as she stood. “Merlin has been a good friend and has stood by your side. I believe he has great wisdom as well as the sight.”
“It is true—Merlin can foresee many things that we cannot.”
“By your leave, sire,” Noelle said with a curtsey, “I will go and rest now.”
Arthur nodded his approval. “Milady, you deserve a long rest.”
Noelle’s legs felt as though they were forged of lead as she made her way to her chamber. She should undress, but she was much too tired. Instead she stretched out on the bed and pulled a rug over her. Sleep soon claimed her.
It had been one of the longest days of her life.
Chapter 10
When Noelle finally awoke she wasn’t sure how long she’d slept. Isabelle and Carolyn were standing at the end of the bed saying something she couldn’t quite hear in her sleep-drugged state. Slowly, she blinked several times to clear eyes that felt as if they were filled with sand. Then she sat up.
“We came to see if you want to help us decorate the Great Hall,” Carolyn said.
Noelle yawned and stretched. “How long have I slept?” she murmured sleepily.
“Since yestereve,” Isabelle told her as she held up a robe for Noelle to slip into. “We didn’t wake you for dinner last night for you were sleeping so soundly and appeared very contented.”
“How is Nicholas this morn?” Noelle said as she tossed the quilts off her. “I should look in on him.”
“He is gone,” Isabelle said.
“Gone?” Noelle felt all the blood leave her head. “You mean he died?” Noelle asked her eyes welling with tears; a feeling of deep sadness filled her heart. “I knew I should not have left him. But he was doing so well and King Arthur insisted that I sleep—”
“Wait,” Isabelle said to stop her. “Nicholas is well. Matilda told me he left at the break of morn.”
Noelle closed her eyes, relief swelling her heart, yet feeling utterly miserable that she wouldn’t see the handsome knight again. It was a feeling she hadn’t expected. She should feel rested and glad that Nicholas was well enough to return to his men. And she was, but she had to remember that she couldn’t keep Nicholas; he wasn’t her pet.
“Are you feeling ill, milady?” Carolyn asked.
“It’s nothing. I am still full of sleep. Perhaps some cold water on my face will help. Help me dress, and then we shall be off to decorate the hall.”
They spent the morning in the Great Hall tying bright red bows on evergreen and holly branches. After today, the main table would be left up and decorated in the hall until after the Christmas feasting.
Isabelle and Carolyn placed evergreen branches and holly on the walls and windows.
Noelle and Guinevere placed the greenery down the center of the table, then tied red bows on the twelve candelabras, which held twelve candles. It was the season for twelve. There would be twelve holiday foods, twelve wassailing, and tables would be set in twelves.
Noelle hummed a Christmas tune she remembered from her childhood. All seemed fine and well, in spite of her impending and unwanted marriage to Sir Gavin. It was funny how fast she could shove the marriage to the back of her mind. She knew deep down she kept expecting something to save her.
“I have seen little of you since I lost you in the woods,” Guinevere said as she tied a bow. “I hope you are not ill.”
“I am sorry if I caused you worry, but as I searched for the mistletoe, I found a falcon trapped in a tree and couldn’t leave him caught as he was.” Noelle chuckled. “Though I am not sure the foolish bird appreciated my efforts.”
“I heard of your adventure,” Guinevere remarked as she tied yet another red bow. “I still cannot believe that you climbed the tree to save that bird.” Guinevere shook her head. “Those falcons are very unpredictable. I just thank God that Nicholas stumbled across you when he did. You could have frozen to your death out there.”
“Aye, I am thankful, too.” Noelle paused. “I fear that I caused Nicholas to become ill from his efforts. I have spent the past few nights nursing him. I am glad to say that he is now well recovered.” And she was glad, though she still regretted that she would see him no more.
“So how did you find our Nicholas now that you have spent time with him?”
Noelle felt her cheeks heat. “I know not what you mean.”
Guinevere chuckled. “I have been a woman longer than I have been your friend and I know the ways of women and men. You need not be ashamed to tell m
e how thrilling it was to spend the night with the most sought-after knight in all the kingdom.”
Noelle smiled. “He was noble and protective and kind. My virtue is still safe, yet I felt something about him . . .” Noelle paused, then admitted, “I find myself liking him when I do not want to. After all, I am betrothed to Sir Gavin. It’s not something I should admit, I suppose, but since we are friends . . .”
“You are not the first to be taken in by Sir Nicholas. He has broken many a heart, yet he chooses none.” Guinevere nodded toward Lady Clarisse, who was also working in the hall. “She is a perfect example. She is beautiful and charming, yet Nicholas tarried with her, but made no offer. I could introduce you to her, if you would like.”
“Another time,” Noelle said.
“I think no one will trap Nicholas into a marriage. Perhaps he was not meant to marry,” Guinevere said, then added, “Do you know that he and Arthur have made a bargain?”
Noelle shook her head. “Nay. What manner of bargain?”
“I probably shouldn’t say.”
“You have my curiosity up. Pray, do not stop now. I will not say anything of what we speak,” Noelle told Guinevere.
“Arthur wagered that Nicholas couldn’t abstain from the ladies, and Nicholas accepted the wager. The prize is a castle that Nicholas has longed for, so much is at stake for him.”
“For how long must Nicholas abstain?”
“Until Christmas Day.” Guinevere chuckled. “It’s a long time for a strong, handsome man like Nicholas.”
Noelle didn’t say much. Was Nicholas really so notorious that he would make wagers with the king? Everyone said thus, but she sensed a different side of Nicholas, a sweeter, more vulnerable side. It was foolish, she knew.
“Such a shame,” Noelle said, realizing her thoughts had slipped out into words. “I speak too freely. Nicholas is none of my concern. I believe my heart is safe.”
Noelle turned around and saw that Isabelle was having the kissing ball hung on one of the wooden cross beams overhead. “Isabelle will be the first to use the kissing ball. I do not believe there is a shy bone in her body.”
