But now she was back in Camelot! Again, she had no idea how it had happened but she had travelled through time to find the same man here as she had found there and this time, injured as he was, she had been able to stay with him, dress his wounds, save him from losing any more blood and have him to herself all night long. He lay there sleeping in her bedchamber after making love and she was in heaven.
She silently left the room to look outside and find Kate. There she was, in her own small servant’s quarters next door, waiting patiently to be summoned. Lady Gwendolyn swept into the room and knelt down, putting her arms around her.
“Kate! We must whisper so as not to wake my lord, but ‘tis so good to see thee again. I have truly missed thy smiling face and support whilst I have been spirited away in some truly bewildering world. Hast thou not missed me too?”
“Milady, milady – how hast thou been elsewhere? And here all the while another that is thee, but not thee? I fear some awful magic has possessed thee and thou hast acted most strange…such that I have worried so about thy safety and sanity. Merlyn himself hath said a mischievous demon is inside of thee.”
“No demon, my Kate. Powerful magic, perhaps. But thou sayest that I have been acting strange? How so?”
“My lady – thou hast gone out to face dragons whilst they thunder above us. Thou hast travelled to the coast and would have faced Saxons in the streets of Caerleon had I not held on to thy skirts. Thou didst go with me to the kitchens to prepare food like any servant…and thou didst run out onto the field of battle just yesterday to be with thy knight…so many ways that I do not recognise in thee…”
Lady Gwendolyn sat back in wonder. All that? But this must have been whilst she was struggling to cope in this future world that frightened and made no sense to her. All that time, then, someone must have taken her place here who made as much sense to Kate as that world made to her.
“Kate, whatever happened before is past. I am now how thou knowest me. The same and no different. Save that I have endured an experience so bewildering that I cannot describe it. Kate – I have seen my mother! My mother whom I lost as a child before even I knew thee! This I vow is not madness. Nor was this heaven wherein I found her. Least, if that is heaven it is more like hell than I ever imagined. But it was my mother as sure as this face is mine own. I saw there Merlyn and Sir Gareth too. All in this other world; they were there – in many ways different; in many ways the same. The most fearful magic has been at work. But hist! A movement next door! My lord is awake! We will talk more later. My Kate, I must fly!”
The Lady Gwendolyn returned to her own chambers as quickly as she could, just in time to see Sir Gareth stumbling naked out of bed.
“My lord!” She rushed to his side, the right side, to help him stand, meanwhile lifting her hand to hold his head down so that she could kiss him.
He allowed her to do that, smiling beneath her lips that pressed all over his face.
“My lady, still thou continueth to surprise me! I wake in thy chambers after such a night. You come to me without hesitation, and I unclothed before thee, with such love and a fearlessness in showing it that doth shake me to my core. These last hours thou hath aroused such passion in me that no pain could subdue and we are more than betrothed, but now like man and wife. The very walls of Camelot have shaken and will continue to tremble if others learn of what has passed this night. My lady, allow me to kneel before thee and pledge myself to thee that I have not been able so to do until this moment.”
Sir Gareth sank painfully on one knee to the floor, took her right hand and raised his head to look at her. “Lady Gwendolyn, my lady, I vow to serve thee and protect thee so long as there is life in my body. Mine heart is henceforth pledged to thine own; my spirit is tied to thine; my body yours to command. Forgive me for failing in strength to pledge my honour to thee before this night. This night whenst thou hast honoured me with the greatest gift that any maiden can bestow. I am your knight, your lord and your protector for ever. I am yours.”
With that he kissed her hand.
Lady Gwendolyn placed both hands about his head and lowered her own to kiss him once more. “Most noble and gallant knight, I am yours as thou art mine. My love for thee knows no limit but thou art still injured and so I command thee to return to this, our bed that we have shared, and I shall examine your wound once more. No sire! Do not protest. Thou must do thy lady’s bidding!” She smiled at him. There was a twenty-first-century spirit rising in her and she was going to have her way. Once she had pulled up blankets to cover her knight’s naked lower half, she called Kate in to see her.
“Kate, wilst thou run and fetch more hot water and tell Merlyn to come? I wish that he visit our bedside to look at the surgery we have performed on this wounded warrior. Quickly, Kate, whilst I remove these bandages.”
Kate ran off, her cheeks colouring as she heard her mistress refer to “our bedside” – a confession of intimacy that had not been sanctioned by marriage. But she would fetch Merlyn and say nothing about this, the loyal servant that she was.
When Merlyn arrived, Lady Gwendolyn had removed all the bandages and the poultice to reveal the stitching in her knight’s side. She reached for the hot water that Kate had brought and commenced to clean the wound yet again for Merlyn to have a closer look. He commended the surgery.
“Well, milady, thou hast served thy knight well. The wound is clear, the swelling is slight, there is no trace of infection. Thou has practised my trade with success. You did not wish to call me last night?”
“Wise Merlyn, I thought that thou had enough business to see to and with one less wound to concern thee thou wert free to attend to others. And my lord is my lord. What good would I be to him if I could not comfort him myself?”
“What sayest thou, Sir Gareth? Wert thou not concerned that thy wound needed a more experienced hand?”
“I do not doubt thy experience and thy many skills, wise Merlyn. But I do doubt that your lips would have provided the same service as my lady’s! My wound thou wouldst have attended to well, that is certain, but thee could not have lifted my spirits so well as my beloved Lady Gwendolyn.”
Merlyn smiled. “Of that, sire, I must concur. Milady, again thy actions surprise us all, this morn, as before. Last night thou didst ignore again all my injunctions and ran headstrong below into danger, yet again straying where no lady should go. Is it the thunder and lightning that affects thee – like I know how some react to the full moon?”
“Well said, Merlyn,” laughed Sir Gareth from the bed as his wound was again being bandaged by Lady Gwendolyn and Kate. “Perhaps my lady is the daughter of some hot-tempered dragon?”
At that, Lady Gwendolyn threw down the bandage she was holding and her newfound spirit flared.
“If I did not care for the two of you so much I should box your ears! But one is injured and the other so elderly that I fear to damage his fragile senses! There is no dragon nor demon’s seed within me. My spirit is all mine own and I have learnt much recently on how I must use it to fend off the heartless taunts of others! My love, my lord, thou treatest me so unjustly. I shall not touch thee again ‘til thou hast retracted thy cruel words and begged my forgiveness!”
“My lady, my love and betrothed, mine own and future wife, I do herewith withdraw every word that injures thee and humbly beseech thee to forgive my erroneous jest! Thou knowest I mean thee no harm but do indeed wonder at such devotion that leads thee into fields of conflict where thy very life is threatened.”
“Milady,” Merlyn interrupted, “thou knowest I have said that there is some mischievous spirit within thee that leads to all manner of surprises. Thy good intent is no longer in doubt. From King Arthur down to the lowest servant both within and without these walls of Camelot we have all seen and wondered at the truly remarkable changes thou hast wrought. From drawing the sting of dragons, to administering medicines, to working alongside servants and finally to rescuing an infidel and helping he and I to produce the most fearsome of
weapons – this citadel will never be the same. Thou hast even driven the queen back into the arms of her king and left Sir Lancelot without solace and less stomach to fight. Sir Gareth here didst shame the senior knight with his superior strength and courage on the field of battle. Ye hast done all that!”
“Wise Merlyn, the Saxon invasion was beaten from the moment the first fiery flame shot out from the walls of Camelot. My strength was not needed. The lightning that lit up the keep, the great explosion that followed, the flames that fired forth and more that encircled the walls – all convinced the barbarians that we had summoned dragons to attack them. I heard them cry, I saw them run: Brangwyn and I had none left to fight from that moment on. Mine own efforts were puny compared to that which thou wert able to employ. My life is saved because of thy magic. As my lady is my witness, fallen and concussed as I was, there were none of the enemy left to dispatch me, only my squire remained, equally unhorsed on the field of battle.”
The Lady Gwendolyn listened and marvelled at these stories. She knew that someone in her guise but other than she had done all that they had recounted. Yet somehow she was not surprised. That Gwendolyn they spoke of was a visitor from a future time who had taken her place, just as she meanwhile had replaced her in turn. And now, back in Camelot, after all her strange experiences, Lady Gwendolyn felt at one with that other self: more in command of her life and situation than ever before. And had she not demonstrated that already to her chosen knight, to all of Camelot, as well as to herself? She had taken her fallen warrior from the field of battle, repaired his injuries and spent the whole night making love with him – all this within hours of first being alone with him: truly a bold and convention-shaking practice that no lady of court would ever admit to. But she felt no shame. Quite the opposite – she felt fulfilled. There was only one sorrow: she knew she would not see her mother again; but the fact that she had seen her and known her was a gift from the future that she would never, ever forget. There was much in that foreign world that had frightened and distressed her – the size, pace, impersonality, the absence of community most of all – but there remained something in the future that gave her hope: that one could still find love and inspiration on an individual level, if not in a community as a whole. With her mother, Merlyn, Gareth – love there was no stranger to that world.
She looked around at the others sharing her bedchamber with her now. She was happy to be back. Lady Gwendolyn felt that she had it all: both the loving and supportive company of Camelot and one special individual whom she would marry and she knew she would love her entire life.
* * *
Ceri Griffiths, Gareth Jones and Gwen Price all looked at one another and no one could speak for the emotion that swirled around between them. Ceri, the more mature amongst them, was first to put voice to her feelings.
“Gwen, my love, you are my only daughter and always will be. Whatever you do, wherever you go, I will always love you. Understand? No one will ever, can ever replace you. I don’t know how it happened but you’ve been through so many changes just recently. Haven’t you? Tell me how you are now. How has all this left you? How are you feeling?”
A white, crumpled face looked back at her mother: “Numb! Confused! I don’t know what I feel inside now. I was so happy at first being back, with Gareth, with you. Now I don’t know. I feel as if you love someone else other than me…and that there is no place for me here. Not in Camelot either. I’m…I’m lost.”
“My love, my love, what have I just told you? You’re not lost, you’re home! My lovely, sensitive daughter…you’re home. I love no one else other than you!”
Gwen couldn’t stop weeping. “But I saw the look in your eyes. And in Gareth’s eyes. You were hoping I hadn’t come back. That the other me was still here”
“It is you that is still here, Gwen. That other you is still you. My love: you have been through such a lot, such an amazing adventure that it has left you exhausted, emotionally drained. But you’re still my daughter and when you’ve rested and recovered, you see – we will all see how we come out of this. It’s affected us all. Look at me. Gwen. Look at my eyes – see what I feel for you there…”
Gwen looked at her mother. She nodded tearfully but at last she was reassured. She was, however, almost too frightened to look at Gareth. She at last turned her tear-reddened eyes towards him.
Gareth at the same time wondered who he was looking at now. It was not at all like the hard, cold Gwen he had known before but neither was it the person who he was last in this room with and who had told him he had won her first in Camelot. Maybe that was as well? He wanted to win a girl here in Monmouthshire, not in some dreamland. But – Christ! – her kisses had somehow unhinged him. He wondered if that would ever happen again, after this. Maybe that was the best thing to do – give it a rest and see what happens tomorrow. After all, they both had to go back to work tomorrow!
“I think, Ms Griffiths, we all need to rest and recover. I said earlier that this has been an awesome day. I didn’t know the half of it! I dunno about you, but I will never be the same again after tonight. I’m going to walk home now and try and make sense of it all. No, Ms Griffiths, I don’t need a lift home. I want to walk, raining or not. I’ll have my clothes back, though. Good night, Gwen. I’ll see you tomorrow…I hope.”
Which Gwen he would see he didn’t know, but he wouldn’t mention that. He took his wet clothes back and, shivering, put them on. At least they were not muddy: he’d worn worse in a game of rugby. Now it was a twenty-minute run home; he made his excuses and left. No kiss for Gwen this time. Maybe tomorrow…
* * *
It was a long, sleep-deprived, turbulent night for all of them: three people struggling to come to terms with everything. Then next morning, very early, the phone rang in Raglan Road. It was Dai Mervyn, calling to ask how Gwen was after her traumatic day of work.
“Hello, Dai,” Ceri answered. “It’s not easy to explain how Gwen is…except to say that she has changed. Dai, my Gwen doesn’t know about what happened in the hotel yesterday…she says she’s just come back from some battle in Camelot. Yes. I know. Difficult to understand. Except talk to Gareth – he was here last night with her and we were all crying. Dai, it’s my daughter as she was…but it’s not how she was…you’ll have to see her to understand. What? OK. Of course, come as soon as you can.”
Ceri went up to see her daughter and got out her Camelot Hotel uniform for her to wear. The Arthurian dress she had worn yesterday was still wet, hanging up in the utility room. Gwen, meanwhile, was in the shower, silent and subdued.
Ceri put breakfast together, very simple but with Gwen’s favourite cereals, and waited for her daughter to come down. The strain on Gwen’s face when she at last came to the breakfast table was as plain to see as storm clouds across the sky.
“Is this what I have to wear now?” she asked, looking at her mother and then at her uniform. How could she go to work in the hotel as if nothing had happened? Going back there would be a struggle that she didn’t know how she would cope with.
Ceri went across and hugged her. “Yes, my love. Don’t worry. It’ll be fine. Dai Mervyn’s on his way to pick you up. He wants to see how you are.”
“Does he?” Gwen looked up quickly, her voice shaking. “Does he want to see me…or the girl that was here?”
“You, my love. It’s still you and only you. Look, there he is now.” The Land Rover was pulling up outside.
Ceri went and opened the front door and diplomatically retired to leave her daughter waiting in the hallway. Gwen wasn’t sure what to do, although she did want to see what Merlyn looked like in this world. She couldn’t remember.
There he was, the same face smiling at her as she saw in Camelot. He paused at the rear of the Land Rover and let Morgan the wolfhound out, then he opened the gate and they both came up the garden path. Gwen stood there and couldn’t move. She just looked at Merlyn with tears welling up again in her eyes. When would this end?
“Hell
o, Gwen, my precious. How’s thee then?” Merlyn looked kindly at her. Morgan came up and licked her hand.
“Merlyn…Do you know me?”
“Aye, my precious. That I do.”
“But…but…we’ve hardly seen each other!”
“Did you know me in Camelot?”
“Oh yes. You…you were always telling what to do. And I never did what you said. You were so patient with me…”
“Well then, you knew me there, and I knew you here, see. So we both know each other, don’t we?”
“If you say so.”
“Aye, I do. Morning, Ceri!” Dai called out. “We’re just off then. I’ll bring her back this afternoon, no worries!”
He put an arm round Gwen. “C’mon, precious, let’s go. Welcome back. All will be well; but thou must work at it! Welcome to Camelot…back here…”
END
Also by Tony Cleaver
Understanding the World Economy 9780415681315
Economics: The Basics 9780415571098
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El Mono 9781909716179
At Roundfire we publish great stories. We lean towards the spiritual and thought-provoking. But whether it’s literary or popular, a gentle tale or a pulsating thriller, the connecting theme in all Roundfire fiction titles is that once you pick them up you won’t want to put them down.
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