Children of Avalon

by Meredith Bond

  Removing the warm, damp cloth from his forehead, I dipped it into the bowl of cold water on the bedside table. The cold bit into my hands as I wrung out the cloth, dipping it once more to make sure it was as cold as it could be, and then wrung it again with all of my strength.

  “You’re going to tear that piece of cloth right in half if you wring it so hard,” the old man croaked. His voice was dry and thick with the congestion in his head and chest.

  I gave him my best smile and tried to hide my frustration. “It’s all right.”

  He reached out and patted my cold, chapped hand with his burning one as I gently placed the cloth over his forehead. “You poor girl. You shouldn’t be here tending to a sick old man like this.”

  “It’s all right, sir, truly...”

  “No. You should be out searching for your parents.” He paused as a coughing fit overcame him. His frail body bucked with the violence of it, and the cloth slipped down his face to cover one of his eyes. Such fits terrified me. I’d seen men die from coughing like that.

  I plucked the cloth off of him and used it to wipe his face and the back of his neck while pushing my fears to the back of my mind. “Dylan is out doing just that, although I wish he wouldn’t. He’s supposed to be searching for a healer for you, and yet all he does is come back with news of this person or that who could be my parent.” Even I could hear the frustration in my voice. I clamped my mouth shut and wrung out the cloth in the cold water once again.

  Sir Dagonet sighed.

  I put the cold cloth on Sir Dagonet’s forehead once again. “He had no right, no right to keep that rain falling the way he did. Not only was it wrong to try to disrupt our journey, but it was also wrong to fool with the weather that way.”

  The old man closed his eyes, and I looked toward the window and wondered if all the noise from the city was bothering him. I had the shutters closed, keeping both the light and noise out as much as possible, but it still managed to creep in through the gaps. The clopping of horses’ hooves resounded off the buildings. The creaking and clunking of carriage wheels and the cries of wandering tradesmen and milkmaids were still easily heard. Especially after the quiet of the forest, the city was a very noisy place.

  “You should be out there,” Sir Dagonet said again quietly.

  I looked down at him. He stared up at me with such concern in his eyes. I had no desire to be out there, not while my dear old protector was lying here like this.

  I shook my head. “I was just worrying about you—how you can rest with all that noise. You need to sleep.”

  He gave me a weak smile but nodded. “I’ll be all right.”

  “But...” I clenched my hands together in my lap. “If only Dylan would come back with a healer!”

  “Scai, my dear girl, do not worry. I will recover from this. Have no fear, I will not be carried out of here in a pine box, wot?”

  He knew. He knew my fears. His words were meant to reassure me, but still, if only Dylan...

  I blinked to stop my eyes from stinging and then gave him my best smile. “Of course not. How silly you are, sir. You will be perfectly healthy again in no time. It would just be so much faster...”

  The low murmur of voices from the taproom downstairs momentarily got louder. I turned to see Dylan coming into the room. He closed the door gently behind him.

  His face, flushed with good health, was like a slap to Sir Dagonet, but the good knight didn’t seem to mind. I felt the sting for him, but restrained my growing anger by taking a deep breath and reminding myself Dylan was doing all he could to make up for his misdeeds.

  I stood up, wincing, as every one of my muscles protested the sudden movement. Sitting still for the past three hours had made me stiff.

  “Well?” I asked, taking a step toward him. I hoped the excitement in his eyes foretold good news.

  “I found a woman...” he began.

  “Can she come right away? Did you explain his symptoms to her?” Finally! Finally, I cried silently. I was so worried about the old knight, I was desperate for someone to come and help him.

  Dylan shook his head, losing his smile a little. “No, not a healer. A woman who might be your mother.”

  “Oh.” I dropped back down into my chair, like a sail that had suddenly lost all of its wind. The hard wood of the chair hurt my bones and muscles all the more for having had a moment’s respite.

  “No, Scai, she sounds very likely to be the one. She said...”

  “Dylan, I told you, I don’t want you searching for my parents. I need you to find a healer!” How many times was I going to have to explain this to him? I clenched my teeth together and took in a deep breath through my nose.

  Sir Dagonet’s hand reached out from under the covers once more and patted my knee. “It’s all right, my dear.”

  “I am looking, truly sir, I am. But I can’t help it if someone begins to tell me about their lost child, now can I?”

  I didn’t say anything, just continued to glare up at Dylan, wishing for him to understand the extent of my anger. The fact that he took a small step back reassured me he was finally getting some inkling of my feelings. The heat of Sir Dagonet’s hand caught my attention and I turned back to remove the cloth from his forehead once again.

  “You will go and see her, won’t you?” Dylan asked hesitantly, as I rinsed out the cloth once again. It took less and less time for it to soak in Sir Dagonet’s fever. I worried it was getting worse.

  “Scai.” Dylan took two steps forward, moving from the door to the bed and put his hand on my shoulder to get my attention. “I told her you would be down soon.”

  I finished arranging the cloth on Sir Dagonet’s burning forehead once again and then sighed. I supposed I could go. It was unlikely that Sir Dagonet’s condition would change within the twenty minutes it would take me to go and come back. I would be as quick as I could.

  The old man gave me a little nod of encouragement—it was all I needed.

  “Very well. I’ll go. You will stay here and watch Sir Dagonet?” It came out more as a command than a question.

  “Of course,” Dylan said without hesitation. He took my arm and helped me up. “It’ll do you good to get out, honestly, Scai. You’re looking pale and tired.”

  I couldn’t help but sigh once more. He was right. It would do me good to get out of this room. It was exhausting work I was doing.

  “You’ll be all right, sir?” I double–checked with Sir Dagonet.

  “Just fine. Don’t you worry about me.”

  As I opened the door, Dylan stopped me. “She’s at the grocer’s. It’s just down the street to the right.”

  I spun around. “What?”

  “At the grocer’s.”

  “You want me...?” I couldn’t believe it. He wanted me to leave the inn?

  “It will do you good. Just go. I promise, I’ll look after Sir Dagonet.” Dylan started to push me out the door.

  I stood outside of the closed door for a moment, debating whether I dared to go out. Sir Dagonet’s condition was not good, not at all. But then I heard his rumbling voice through the thin door: “Be good for her to get out. Get some fresh air.”

  “Indeed, sir,” Dylan answered.

  I was not happy as I made my way down to the taproom and out the front door of the inn, but I was doing what Sir Dagonet wanted me to do. As I stepped out of the door, it occurred to me that I hadn’t actually passed through this door for nearly three days.

  I couldn’t believe it had been that long since we’d come to Gloucester. But considering that all I’d done since we’d found this inn was to care for Sir Dagonet, I wasn’t entirely surprised.

  I stopped and took a deep breath. It did feel good, filling my lungs, giving me energy and life. I just stood there basking in the fresh air that moved all around me, gently caressing my skin, moving my hair—until a man pushed past me as he, too, left the inn.

  Recalled to where I was standing, I set out to the right to find the grocer’s.
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br />   It wasn’t a particularly nice day. The sky was clouded over and it was cool, but there was a fresh breeze, filled though it was with the smells of the city. Autumn was definitely in the air—I could smell it even through the city scents.

  And, oh, but it felt good to stretch my legs.

  Taking deep breaths and walking at a good pace to work out the cramps in my legs, I reveled in every moment of my freedom.

  I found the grocer’s and the woman waiting for me.

  “My friend, Dylan, said that you had given away a baby twenty years ago?” I asked the woman, after we had exchanged the usual pleasantries.

  “Yes. It was a very sad day for me,” the woman said, sighing.

  “What made you and your husband decide to travel to Wales to give away the child?” I asked. Hopefully this would be the one—then Dylan could stop looking for my parents and concentrate on finding a healer.

  The woman’s eyes widened. “Wales? Husband? Oh no. I’ve never been married. The babe was, er, an accident.”

  “Oh.” I found myself surprisingly unsurprised by this revelation. “Then you gave the baby to another couple to take with them? Because I know for certain that I was left on the church steps in Wales by a couple, a man and a woman.” My heart sank just a little as I realized that there was no hope that this woman was the one.

  The woman’s eyes grew sad. “Oh, dear, no. I gave my child to the Lady Adelaide. I just wished I knew what she did with her.” The woman’s eyes began to shine with tears, but she blinked them away.

  “Oh. Yes. Well, perhaps you can ask her.” Perhaps someone, at least, could have a joyous reunion with her mother.

  The woman’s mouth fell open at the thought and she nodded her head. “Do you think she would tell me?”

  “I’m sure she would. And you never know, your daughter might still be with her.”

  The woman’s lips trembled into a smile. “Yes, oh, yes.” She reached out and grasped my hand. “What a good girl you are. What a very kind girl.”

  I smiled at the woman, even as my hopes slid a little further away. Each time Dylan brought someone else for me to meet, my hopes became a little more distant. Very soon I would be certain that I would never find my true parents. Twenty years was a very long time, after all. It saddened me more than I would admit, though. I would be alone, without a family, for the rest of my days.

  I took my time walking back to the inn. It almost killed me to return to Sir Dagonet and to my nursing duties. It had been so pleasant to be outside once more. Even if it had begun to rain a little on my way back from the grocer’s, it still felt wonderful.

  But the closer I got, the more my worries began to compound. What if Dylan wasn’t watching him? What if he had opened the window and was letting the cool air into the room making an already sick man even sicker? What if he wasn’t changing the cloth or soothing the poor old knight?

  Once inside the inn, I practically ran back up the stairs. My anger and frustration, too, returned, even stronger than before. Why couldn’t Dylan just stick to his job of finding a healer, instead of wasting my time when Sir Dagonet truly needed me?

  “Well?” Dylan asked as soon as I came in.

  I jerked my head from left to right, taking back my post next to the old knight. I had nothing kind to say.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I tried not to slam the door behind me like a petulant child. Yes, I had been forced to leave Sir Dagonet’s room yet again. Forced to take yet another break to meet a man who could be a link to my long–lost parents. The woman I had met the day before at the grocer’s was all wrong, could this man be any closer? Probably not.

  But as I stood there fuming, Dylan’s voice filtered through the closed door. “It’s getting harder to find people to claim to have lost a child, sir. I had to pay this one.”

  “I’ll give you the money. That girl works too hard, I—” His words were interrupted by a coughing fit. I had to force myself to stand my ground until it subsided. “She needs the break. You just keep doing as you have been,” Sir Dagonet finished.

  “Yes, sir,” I heard Dylan respond as I began to move down the hall as silently as I could. I just couldn’t believe how quietly caring those two men were. All of my muscles were tired and aching as I went down the stairs. But there was no one at the corner table of the other inn down the street, where Dylan said I would find the man he had spoken with.

  I asked a bar maid, but she just shrugged and went back to her work. She had seen the man, I ‘heard’ in my mind, and she had seen Dylan hand him some money. She hadn’t thought anything of it when the man had left soon after Dylan. Shaking my head sadly at the dishonesty of these city people, I turned to go back to the inn and Sir Dagonet.

  It may have worried me to leave the knight alone with Dylan, who certainly didn’t care for him nearly as well as I, but I had to admit it did feel good to get some fresh air and a little exercise. Despite the fine day, though, my heart ached with concern. Sir Dagonet had had a bad night. After so many days of fever, I just didn’t know how much longer...

  No!

  Nothing was going to happen to him. Sir Dagonet was going to be all right. If only Dylan would concentrate on finding a healer. I picked up my pace and returned to the inn.

  I had paused to allow my eyes to adjust to the gloom of the inn just inside the door when I saw him. Dylan was sitting at the bar with a glass of ale in his hand, laughing at something the fellow next to him had said. He must have come down just after I had left, for his glass was half empty and I hadn’t been gone long.

  A fury like I had never experienced before exploded inside of me. The door to the inn smashed open behind me and a gust of cold wind swept through the taproom.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice low with pent up rage. I stood right next to Dylan, practically whispering into his ear.

  He jumped, spilling his drink all over his hand and the bar. I had no memory of walking toward him, but I shoved the momentary confusion out of my mind. I just wanted my question answered.

  Dylan looked nervous for a moment, but then took on a defensive stance. “When I left, Sir Dagonet was sound asleep. He doesn’t need me hovering over him like a...”

  But I didn’t wait to listen to the rest of Dylan’s excuse. I turned and ran up the stairs.

  My heart pounded in my chest. How could he have just left Sir Dagonet all alone? The old knight was very sick. His fever was high; he was restless and had been hallucinating during the night—calling out to someone, promising to find “them.” I didn’t know who “they” were, but it had taken all of my strength to keep him in his bed.

  Honestly, I didn’t know how much longer I could last with him like this.

  I stopped outside of his room to wipe away the tears that had started to slip down my cheeks. I couldn’t allow him to see how worried I was.

  I took a deep breath to calm myself. The last thing I wanted to do was disturb the old knight if he was finally getting some much–needed rest.

  Another breath was abruptly stopped when I heard voices coming from his room. And laughter? That was definitely laughter.

  I turned around and took a step closer to the door on the other side of the corridor, thinking it must be coming from the room opposite. I stood listening outside of the other room, but there was nothing. I walked back to Sir Dagonet’s room—laughter! It was coming from here. But how could that be?

  I opened the door a crack and peered in.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sir Dagonet was sitting up in bed, a glass of ale in his hand, a laugh on his lips. “Ah, Scai, come in, come in, wot?” the old knight said. His voice was still raspy with congestion but otherwise sounded remarkably energetic.

  I did as I was bade. But it just didn’t make sense. How could this be? When I’d left he had practically been on his deathbed, and now...

  “Scai, I’d like you to meet Bridget. She’s a healer, don’t you know? Heard we were looking for one, and she found me
just like that. Remarkable ability, wot?”

  For the first time, I noticed the young woman sitting in my chair. Closing the door behind me, I advanced into the room as the woman stood up.

  She was younger than me, and yet she had such a strong presence that I could hardly believe that I hadn’t seen her right away. Her hair was bright red, her eyes a brilliant blue, and the freckles that were splattered over her nose and cheeks gave her a childlike glow even though she had to be in her late teens.

  “I’m so happy to meet you, Scai. Sir Dagonet was just telling me about you. Oh, but...” She paused and cocked her head a little to the side, staring wide–eyed at me like a little sparrow. “Have we met? No, that could not possibly be. I certainly would have remembered you. I’ve got an excellent memory for faces. Names I sometimes have a problem with, but faces I always remember.” She stopped and took a breath. “Yours looks extraordinarily familiar.”

  If I’d wanted to say something, I couldn’t, for her rapid–fire delivery. There was something niggling in the back of my mind, but it slipped away as I struggled not to laugh at this girl. I finally got a hold of myself and said, “No. I’m certain we haven’t met. And please excuse me for being so straightforward, but you’re just so...familiar and well, vibrant. There’s no other word for it.”

  And it was true: I’d never met anyone like Bridget before. Everything about her was bright and filled with energy. But what was it about her that seemed so familiar? It wasn’t possible that we’d ever met before.

  “Vibrant.” Bridget giggled. “That’s a good word for it. I like that. No one’s ever called me vibrant before.”

  “Bridget is strongly tied to the element of fire, don’t you know?” Sir Dagonet croaked out.

  “Fire? Yes, that makes perfect sense!”