by Kim Dragoner
After supper, Rhys returned to his rooms. As he walked the nearly abandoned halls of the back corridors, he listened to the sounds of his heels clicking against the stone floors. It was strange to hear the sounds of his steps so distinctly in the castle; Morgana always had the floors suitably strewn with herbs and flowers which muffled the sound and sweetened the air. They must have already been swept up by the maids and not yet replaced. He was lost in those thoughts when he heard it. The sounds of another set of footsteps following him.
Instinctively, he ducked into a darkened alcove and waited silently. After a few moments, he saw him. It was the same dark cloaked stranger who had followed Erasmus from the dining hall earlier that day. The figure moved with purpose, but as it passed by the deep alcove where Rhys hid, it stopped. The man looked around suddenly and seemed to be peering into the darkness around him. Rhys stood silent with his back pressed against the back wall of the recess, holding his breath. After a few moments, the figure turned and moved swiftly to the end of the corridor and around a corner.
In his privy chamber, Erasmus was waiting again with a basin of warm water, a washcloth and soft, lilac-scented soap. Rhys washed his face, hands and then his feet and dressed in his night clothes. As Erasmus left the room, Rhys jumped up on the window seat and sat looking up through the window. The moon was a white marble in the sky and had that odd shape it took before it disappeared. He gazed at it for a long time, wondering where Naida was tonight. He climbed into bed and fell asleep thinking of the girl whose beautiful face remained hidden behind a sheet of water.
Chapter Three
Eon
Naida was distracted by her thoughts all evening and it was visible.
She sat absent-mindedly watching the other faeries dancing after supper even as her own plate lay in front of her almost untouched. Vanya and Thenidiel had already given up asking if something was wrong with her and had long since left the table to join in the dancing. They were her best friends at court, but she had absolutely no idle conversation or the patience for it that night. She could only just avoid the questioning glares she had been getting from Titania and the other priestesses during the supper proceedings. Queen Mab had excused herself from the hall early that night, so Naida felt that she had mercifully escaped being questioned about her behavior toward Pendrake earlier that afternoon. Obviously Titania would be taking it up with her soon enough though.
It was usually a carefree existence for Naida at Mab’s court; however, being somewhat of a rebel child, all the priestesses had taken it upon themselves to tend to her in the wake of her own mother’s latest and seemingly final disapproval. She was recently required to take classes with them on a myriad of topics including potion making, spell casting and midwifery. Pendrake, the librarian, had issued her with a very official looking time table of her lessons. He had also advised her it had been decided that if she would not receive her wings, marry and take up the mantle of wife and eventually mother like other noble born faery girls, then she would have to be trained to a task like a commoner.
Naida had realized that the discussion had been meant to be degrading, even condescending on his part, but it had actually been somewhat liberating for her. It marked the end of her mother’s expectations and that her future was in her own hands. A future that was wholly dependent on how she excelled at the lessons to come and then by the task she would be set to afterwards. The best part was that her task would most likely be one requiring regular trips to Earth to gather herbs and plants for potions and medicines and this would guarantee her a release from Eon at least on a monthly basis. The prospects were encouraging. She was ultimately determined to find a way to stay on Earth and she was somehow convinced that Rhys would help her.
“Oh, Rhys,” she swooned, breathing his name audibly.
“Who?” Minerva asked inquisitively.
“What? Did I say that aloud? It’s no one, I mean nothing,” Naida stammered.
“It didn’t seem like nothing, the way you sighed it out just now,” she teased.
“Oh, Minerva. If I told you something, would you swear never to repeat it?”
Naida was desperate to share her tale, but was also very cautious.
“Of course, Naida, my friend. I would not divulge your secrets for amusement or any other reasons.”
Naida knew she was sincere. Minerva was the only really truthful faery she knew. True to the character of her namesake in human history, she was a balming soul who was gifted with immense wisdom and kindness.
“I met a boy in Exmoor, Minerva, at the Everlasting Pool,” she whispered. “He could see me and I spoke to him for a long time.”
“Oh dear!” Minerva responded with a slightly worried look on her face. She smiled a wicked smile and added comically, “He must have been wondrously handsome, otherwise you would not have bothered with him; the superficial wretch that you are.”
“Hush, Minerva. You make fun of me.”
Naida pouted a little, purely for dramatic effect. She knew Minerva was baiting her, but she found talking to her so easy.
“Coincidentally, he is the most beautiful being I have ever seen. He is quite witty and funny as well. His conversation was mesmerizing.”
“How is it he can see you, Naida? Are you not worried about that? It should not be possible, so he must be extremely special.”
“He is, extremely special.”
She blushed and looked away.
“What is it?” Minerva pressed.
“I believe that he will become besotted with me, and I with him and the tale will end when I am human like he is and we are utterly in love and completely inseparable.”
“You are a hopeless romantic, dear!”
They giggled like two silly girls for the rest of the evening.
As they walked together down the castle hall toward their bedchambers, Minerva was adamant in pointing out to Naida that she should be careful.
“Truthfully, we plan to meet again. I find myself looking forward to seeing him. Why is that so, Minerva? Why do I feel as if the dawn could not break quickly enough for my liking tonight?” Naida sighed deeply.
“Be guarded with your heart, dear Naida, but most importantly, be careful on these trips you take to Earth. Rumor has it that Mab and the priestesses have been speaking of strange forces they suspect are at work there. Recent disturbances in the membrane have alerted them to the crossing over of supernatural beings from Arcadia.”
“But that’s impossible. The Arcadians are banished from the plains of Earth and Eon.”
“It seems that they have either found another loophole or they have been summoned by a ‘Magic Wielder’ there. Either way, they have been crossing over, which means they are passing through Eon to get to their destination.”
“Then we are all in danger, Minerva, whether here or on Earth.”
“Indeed, my friend, these are dangerous times for us all.”
She gave her a wry smile and stepped into her room, leaving Naida in the hall by herself to think about what had been said.
Avalon
As was customary at the Apple Festival, the trumpets sounded over all of Avalon at the break of dawn. The earsplitting blasts found Rhys up, dressed and sitting in his window gazing toward the horizon searching for the sun’s first rays. He was excited and he couldn’t contain it. He had taken a long swim in the hot spring and put on his whitest shirt and his page’s jerkin and sat waiting. As he looked out over the island and the nearby sea, he could make out the coastline of the mainland through the thin morning fog. It was rare to be able to see the moor from the island as it was always surrounded by its protective mists that hid Avalon from sight.
When Erasmus arrived in the bedchamber with bath linens and toiletries for Rhys, he found him fully dressed and gazing out the window. He wanted to be angry, but he could tell that the boy had something on his mind.
“It’s a good thing I hadn’t asked the chamberlains to bring up the bath yet, Master,” he quipped. “
I would have had four sour faces to deal with so early in the morning.”
His comment made a small smile appear at the corners of Rhys’ mouth and smoothed the furrows in his brow. Erasmus smiled in return. He handed the linens to the steward who had just arrived and dismissed him, closing the door firmly behind him. He returned to the window where Rhys sat and stood quietly beside him.
“May I speak confidently to you, Erasmus?”
“As always, Rhys, I am in your service.”
“Hmmm. Dutifully said, Erasmus; I know you mean it, though.”
“You are somewhat distracted today. Isn’t it a bit early to seem so perplexed? Did something happen in your studies yesterday, sir? Perhaps whatever caused you to be late last evening?”
“If it had ever crossed my mind to avoid the topic, Erasmus, your questions would have seen to thwarting the choice.”
Again he produced a small smile which warmed the features of his handsome face.
“I try to assist in any way I can, Rhys, and I want you to always remember that.”
“Gratitude, Erasmus.”
The valet made a small, but sincere, bow.
“Well, I came across someone by accident in the forest yesterday. We had a pleasant conversation; it was nice to spend time with someone of similar mind. But now I am beginning to feel that it was either a dream or a mistake. Either way, I feel I may be doomed.”
“Rhys, you said you met this person just yesterday. It must have been a very compelling conversation to have left you feeling so morose. Did someone threaten you?”
He paused to check Rhys’ expression, he was still looking out at the sunrise, but the corner of his mouth was turned up in a half smile. Rhys turned to face him.
“No threats, but I feel as if I came away from the conversation with a part of me gone. She was the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on, Erasmus. Perfect, in every way. She was pretty, but in a womanly way, sophisticated, timeless almost. Her conversation was light, but also engaging and intelligent when it needed to be. She was witty, funny, and chaste. I am at a loss. I have never met anyone like her. Therefore, it must be that I was either dreaming or the events of yesterday afternoon may change the course of my life forever.”
“You have a fraught outlook on things too much of the time, sir, often ascertaining much more from a situation than there is. You are much like your uncle Caradoc in that respect. I was his valet when he was at Avalon in his youth too. He would brood and worry over matters which were simple to discern and I found that once he trusted my opinion and advice, that I was able to help him simplify his way of thinking.”
Rhys sighed at the comparison and also at the concept of simplification. Again he found himself wondering how old the Avalonian people around him were. Erasmus continued.
“His father, your grandfather, left the guidance of his sons at adolescence to knights, tutors and such, he also sent them to Avalon too young, as you have been sent here too young. I think your father has made the same mistake. No one can teach a boy to think like a man as his father can. But I will try with you as I did with your uncle.”
Rhys smiled up at Erasmus.
“I would appreciate your assistance in my matters, Erasmus. You have always been like a favorite uncle to me here. But time is against us this morning; I have to leave for the West Garden to ensure that my aunt’s tables are ready for the ceremony breakfast. At least I do not have to attend to her during the proceedings; it is always so eventless during these state festivals.”
He spared his valet a little laugh as he jumped from the window seat. Erasmus gave him a parting bow, which Rhys returned and then left the room. He was feeling better already. The walk to the West Garden was relaxing for Rhys; he passed through the kitchens and asked Amarelle if all was ready for the ceremony, which it was. He clapped his hands together in approval and she smiled.
“Would you save me a jug of summer ale for my supper please, Amarelle? I have the evening to myself and I think I will have earned a drink or two before I go to bed.”
Amarelle loved when he made these kinds of formal requests. He spoke to her with a reserved respect that reminded her that he was nobility, but also proved that he was taking to his lessons with his aunt very well. Morgana was the most dignified woman Amarelle had ever known, even more so than her mother Queen Igraine had been. She always treated people with respect and valued the opinions of others. Rhys seemed to emulate her in all these ways.
The garden was perfection, the trees and bushes were clipped and the grass had been trimmed. The entire hedgerow along the garden’s entrance path had been transformed into topiaries of faeries and other mythical creatures by Glaber. He had even labeled his creations for the education of their admirers. On either side the first were of centaurs, the next two depicted Mab and Titania. Others that followed showed unicorns and winged faeries, the Lady of the Lake holding Excalibur above the water and even Melusina in her half-fish form. They were stunningly crafted. Rhys smiled, Morgana would be flabbergasted.
As Rhys walked amongst the verdant sculptures, he saw a figure dash from one of the far hedges toward the thick tree line that encircled the garden.
Not again, he thought to himself, as he strained to make out who it was. But the man was long gone, completely consumed by the dense woods around him.
Glaber was still raking a few leaves from under the apple trees when Rhys found him.
“Friend,” Rhys greeted the man.
“Rhys, son of Gwallawc, how do you do?”
“I am well,” he replied stiffly. “Yourself?”
“Busy as always, but I am almost done.”
He watched as Glaber gathered the leaves with the implement, but somehow skirted around every blossom petal leaving the flat green grass littered with the pink and white blooms. Beautiful.
“Good Glaber, have you any assistants working with you out here this morning?”
“No. I am here on my own. Just putting the finishing touches on. I sent all the helpers home this morning.”
“Then they should already have returned to the moors?”
“Aye!”
He gave the gardener a playful slap on the shoulder. He tried to brush off the consternation he felt from glimpsing the fleeing man.
“Everything is ready. Your aunt’s dais is in place as well as her table and throne. Her sisters’ places are set as well. The stewards are just now finishing setting out the other tables and chairs even as the servers wait to lay the tables with the silverware and glasses.”
“Thank you, Glaber. You have truly outdone yourself; it is all spectacular. Morgana will be very pleased.”
“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.”
