“No, you had your bag on your shoulder and were all ready to go,” Bridget retorted.
“And why shouldn’t I?” I snapped back, finally giving in to Bridget’s emotions.
“It was all a terrible mistake,” Lady Morgan’s voice cut through the tension that hung between us.
Scai turned to her. “So the chalice is truly gone?”
“I’m afraid so,” the lady replied.
“But then, we have to go and get it. The prophecy states that only with the chalice can we defeat Lady Nimuë—and, you’re right, Bridget, I don’t remember Sir Dagonet saying anything about Excalibur being mentioned in the prophecy either. That is right, isn’t it, sir?” Scai said, turning the to the knight.
“Eh, what wot? Oh, er, no. Excalibur isn’t mentioned, and yes, you do need the chalice to defeat Lady Nimuë.” The old man looked at me apologetically.
He needn’t have. I knew it already. “It’s all right, sir, really. If I’d remembered that when Lady Nimuë had offered the sword to me instead of being blinded by the thought of having Excalibur for my own, we wouldn’t be in this situation,” I admitted, hoping that some truth and honesty would soften Scai’s feelings toward me. At this point, I would do nearly anything to keep her from hating me. I couldn’t imagine what I would do if that happened. As it was, she only wanted to remain friends. The thought of not even having that sent my stomach churning again.
“That is a very brave admission, Dylan,” Lady Morgan said.
“Thank you, ma’am. I only wish... well...”
“Yes, we all wish that you hadn’t had to make it,” she said, finishing my thought.
“Honesty only hurts when it isn’t, wot? And bravery can never be beat, don’t you know?” Sir Dagonet said, the twinkle returning to his eyes. “Put the two together and you get... honery or bravesty.”
Even he looked confused at that one. But we all began to snicker and from there slipped into giggling beyond control, which helped everything.
After we had all sat down properly and been served drinks, I shook my head and said, “I don’t know how I could have allowed myself to be tricked.”
“Well, I suppose it was because you wanted that sword so badly,” Scai said. Maybe she didn’t hate me?
“Do you think Lady Nimuë knew that?” I asked Lady Morgan, even as a glimmer of hope began to blossom inside of me.
“I think she knew that it is every young knight’s dream to own Excalibur. You are no different than anyone else and, yes, she played on that knowledge,” the lady answered with a small smile on her lips.
I nodded. It was indeed the truth of it. “Do you think there is any truth to her claim that she can only be killed by Excalibur?”
Lady Morgan shook her head. “Lady Nimuë is a powerful Vallen, Dylan. It will take a great deal of skill to kill her, or a great deal of luck.”
“But Excalibur...”
“Is a very powerful sword in the right hands—use it well.”
The puddle of hope within my heart grew. If she could be killed with Excalibur, if it was possible, then perhaps all was not lost.
“Where do you think the chalice is now, my lady?” Scai asked.
Lady Morgan turned to Scai. “With my sister, I can only suppose.”
“But do you know where she is?” Bridget asked.
Lady Morgan could only shake her head.
I looked to Scai and then caught Bridget staring at me.
“Then we’ll have to go searching for her,” Scai said.
I nodded but had no idea where she might be.
“To Gloucester, do you suppose?” Sir Dagonet asked.
“Yes! We should definitely search first in Gloucester, and, of course, visit my family while we’re there,” Bridget said, brightening up so much that no one was about to say no to her.
Scai gave her sister a smile. She seemed about to say something, but then she stopped herself and instead said, “That is where we saw her last, so, yes, it would make sense to start there.”
“No. The last place we saw her was here,” I corrected. “And the time before that was in the church at the monastery. And before that in the woods where we found the chalice.”
Scai frowned at me. “Yes, but we know that she was staying in Gloucester in the form of Father du Lac.”
“And it’s very likely that she’s still there,” Bridget said.
“It’s as good as any place to start,” Sir Dagonet said.
“So tomorrow we leave for Gloucester,” Scai said with finality.
We, I thought. We will be leaving. Not me, going out on a quest to kill Nimuë alone. Not me, traveling quickly by myself to become the hero of this adventure, but we. The thought unsettled me. And the unsettling disturbed me.
I knew that I was supposed to be in this with Bridget and Scai, but there was a voice inside of me—a very strong little voice—that kept telling me that I should be doing this on my own. This was my quest. I was Merlin’s heir. I was a trained knight. I was trained to use my magic and be a strong Vallen. I could do this on my own.
But I knew that I shouldn’t.
Well, I supposed I had better reinforce my hastily constructed wall if I was going to be in close proximity to Bridget for some time. There was no way I could fight off all of her emotions all the time. I would be exhausted constantly.
Chapter 11
Nimuë watched Scai walk out onto the pier next to her sister and the others. They were leaving Avalon—finally! If she had known that all she needed to do to get them off the island and away from Morgan was to give that boy Excalibur, she would have done it days ago.
Of course, now, she had the chalice, she thought, smiling down at the beautiful stone cup in her hand. She hadn’t let it out of her sight ever since she’d retrieved it from the lake. It had been so easy, almost too easy.
“Are you ready to go?” Dylan asked Scai.
“All ready.” The girl nodded.
“What I wouldn’t give to have Scai’s new power now,” Bridget grumbled.
Sir Dagonet laughed. “I think we all feel that way, Bridget. The thought of having to ride all the way to Gloucester has my old bones aching already.”
“Oh, you poor thing. Well, we’ll take it slowly,” Scai offered.
“No!” Dylan exclaimed, but then quickly amended. “I mean, if we take it slowly, won’t it just prolong the pain? Perhaps it would be better if we travelled quickly.”
Sir Dagonet looked at Dylan, a small smile playing on his lips. He knew what that boy was up to; Nimuë could see it in his face.
The child was eager. Too eager, perhaps, but that would play to her advantage. He would rush them to find her, and then rush to attack without thought. It would be their downfall, of course, she thought happily.
“We could certainly try that, Dylan,” the old man said, nodding his head.
“Are you certain, sir?” Scai asked, sounding concerned for the old geezer, as always. She was too soft. It was what made her such an easy target.
“Oh, yes, it’ll be fine. Shall we be”—Sir Dagonet took a step backwards as he was speaking—right off the edge of the dock—“off?” he finished from the water.
“Oh, sir!” Scai exclaimed, while giggling behind her hand.
Dylan didn’t even try to hide his laughter, and neither did Bridget or Morgan.
“Yes, only, I think it would be faster if you took the boat,” Morgan offered.
Dylan reached down to help the old man out of the water and then helped him into the boat. But then Dylan paused as he was about to get into the boat himself.
To her amazement, the boy took off Excalibur from where it was securely tucked into his belt. “Scai, would you look after this?” he said, handing the sword to the girl. He handed her his bag after it.
“Why, what are you doing?” she asked, taking his things.
Nimuë could see a little smile curve onto his face. “I’ll see you there.” And with that, he pulled off his boots and his tuni
c and dove into the sea.
The girls and Sir Dagonet smiled, watching him. The boy popped up from the water for one last wave and then with a splash of his tail that was already forming, disappeared under the water.
Nimuë watched him disappear and marveled at the camaraderie that had grown up among the trio. Barely more than a month ago they were fighting amongst themselves, making attacking them so much easier for her. She stopped and thought about that and wondered if it hadn’t been her who had brought them together. They had had to unite to fight against her, she thought with disgust. And they had done so—with incredible results.
She needed to find a way to split them apart. Morwen’s attempts at getting them to fight amongst themselves hadn’t worked.
Nimue wanted to spit she was so angry with that girl. She had hoped the young priestess would do something right, something to help her. But no. Nothing she had done had worked. It was a waste of her time relying on anyone but herself. She wouldn’t do so again.
“How could you?” Her sister’s voice came from behind her, startling Nimuë out of her thoughts.
“How could I what, Morgan? You need to be more specific,” Nimuë said, as she slowly turned around to face her sister.
Morgan’s arms were crossed in front of her and for the first time in a very, very long time, her face was a storm cloud of anger.
Nimuë looked up as the sun slowly disappeared behind its own dark storm cloud. This did not bode well.
Chapter 12
I watched the storekeeper’s eyes flick from Scai to Bridget to Sir Dagonet. All too briefly they made contact with my own, but before I could do or say anything, the contact was broken. Just a moment or two longer and I would have been able to tell for certain what all of my senses were telling me—the man was nervous. Very nervous.
But why? It didn’t make sense. We were just there to buy supplies we would need on our journey south. We were causing no commotion. We weren’t even speaking loudly. Yes, we were strangers in this town, but that had never made people look at us so oddly before.
Scai moved closer to me. “I’m feeling really nervous here. Can we hurry up?”
I looked down at her. She did look pale and her eyes were flitting around nearly as much as the storekeeper’s. I nodded and moved over to Sir Dagonet who was debating with Bridget over a jar of honey.
“Sir? Shall we go?” Dylan asked.
“Eh? Well, I would like...”
“Bridget, don’t worry about the cost. You’ll appreciate having the honey,” I said, interrupting the old man and putting to rest Bridget’s argument. I took out some coins and dropped them into the storekeeper’s hand. “Thank you.” I guided both girls outside into the cold, Sir Dagonet on our heels.
Winter was firmly set. I hoped the girls wouldn’t get too cold as we travelled. I’d wanted to buy them both cloaks, but neither would accept such a costly gift. At least they’d allowed Lady Morgan to give them warm woolen dresses and shawls for the journey.
It was just a short walk across the village green to the inn. How odd it was that the inn was on the village square. And the grocer’s. In Avalon the square had been surrounded by the temple, the library and the communal dining hall. The blacksmith, armory and other such places were separated from the center of life. It was, I supposed, just a matter of what people held important.
It was much warmer inside the inn and there was the welcoming smell of food cooking mixed with the bitter smell of ale. Sir Dagonet led the way to the bar where the owner stood pulling at the taps, filling mugs with his homebrew.
“Good morning!” Sir Dagonet greeted him in his usual jovial manner.
The man looked up at him, suspicion pouring from him, just as it had with the shopkeeper. “What may I do for ye?” he asked, setting aside the mug he had been filling.
Sir Dagonet didn’t let the man’s unfriendly tone of voice phase him. “We are here to collect our horses and buy a bottle or two of your fine ale for our journey.”
“Collect... Oh, you’re the bunch who left yer horses for stabling nearly a month ago,” the man said, recognizing us.
“Yes, yes, that’s right, wot?” Sir Dagonet said, giving the innkeeper a big smile.
“Ye should have told me ye’d be gone so long. I nearly sold yer cattle.”
“What?” I couldn’t stop the exclamation from bursting from my mouth.
“But why?” Scai asked more gently.
The man looked at us all. “People have been asking about them. Looks odd to have such fine horses in my stable, and not being used for so long.”
“But...” Bridget started.
“Look, I’m just saying. It looks odd. Ye’ve been gone a long time. Nowadays, anything that looks odd is suspicious and anything suspicious is cause for reporting to the lord. I don’t want to be reported, ye understand.”
“No, I don’t understand,” I said, not liking the feeling I was getting in the pit of my stomach.
The man leaned forward so that his voice could just be heard above the voices of his other customers. “Ye’ve been away, so ye don’ know, but I’ll tell ye, ye need to be careful.”
“Careful of what?” Scai asked just at the same volume.
“Witches!” the man whispered fiercely.
I imagined all of our eyes widened at that for the man nodded. “Anyone suspected of witchcraft, or anything that could possibly be odd or suspicious in any way...” he stood back and placed his hand on his neck and paled a little.
We got the point. People were being put to death.
“Stepped up the witch hunts, have they?” Sir Dagonet asked in an almost normal tone of voice.
The man paled, his face losing all color and then he shifted to look behind them to make sure that no one had heard. He must have been satisfied because he turned back to Sir Dagonet. “Keep yer voice down. Ye don’t even want to say the word or else ye’ll be accused and that’ll be the end of ye.”
“Sounds bad, wot?” Sir Dagonet whispered.
“Ye don’ know the half of it.”
The man then stood back and continued filling a mug with ale. He raised his voice to a normal, even slightly loud level and said, “So, ye’ll be takin’ yer animals now, will ye?”
Sir Dagonet cleared his throat. “Yes. Yes. We will, and I commend you, good sir, for your fine care of them while we were on the island, at the, er, monastery. Many thanks to you.” With that he placed a number of coins on the counter in front of the innkeeper.
The man’s eyebrows shot up and for the first time, he actually smiled before disappearing the coins into his pocket. “And a few bottles of my finest for yer journey. Happy to oblige, sir, happy to oblige.” He filled a couple of bottles and seemed to be extraordinarily happy to see us go.
It wasn’t until we were on the road, that Bridget said, “I just don’t understand how things could have changed so much in just a few weeks. Everyone was nervous. Even at the inn no one spoke too loudly or did anything that could possibly be construed as suspicious.”
“Don’t understand it myself, Bridget. But it seems as if we’re going to have to be overly careful ourselves, don’t you know.” Sir Dagonet shook his head sadly.
“Perhaps it would be better, sir, if we avoided towns just as we did on our way here,” I offered. I wasn’t happy with that option, but it seemed to be the safest thing to do.
Sir Dagonet just pursed his lips and began fiddling with something inside of his sleeve as he always did when he was nervous.
~~~~~
Travel was excruciatingly slow. It wasn’t the condition of the roads, even though they weren’t the best. It was simply the speed at which Sir Dagonet’s horse moved. I didn’t know if it was the horse or the knight who kept to that slow pace, but by mid–afternoon I was ready to jump out of my skin I was so frustrated.
Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Sir, if you don’t mind,” I called out to the old knight, “I’m going to travel on ahead and see if I can find a g
ood place for us to stop for the night before it gets too dark.”
“Excellent idea, wot?” Sir Dagonet replied.
I breathed a sigh of relief and then dug my heels into my horse’s flanks. All of the tension that had built up since I’d returned from Avalon began to fall away and even my horse seemed relieved as his stride lengthened with ease.
I must have gone two or three miles in this way before I pulled up and began to do as I had said I would. I turned off the road and picked my way through the forest, looking for a likely place to spend the night.
I found the perfect place—a clearing not far from the bank of the river. The ground was dry and firm and there would be a good quarter mile of trees protecting us from anyone who might be passing by on the road. I allowed my horse to graze while I waited for Sir Dagonet and the girls to catch up.
Because it was so late in the year, it was nearly full dark by the time they did so. I had spent my time well, collecting wood and setting it out for a fire. Bridget was more than happy to set it alight as soon as she had dismounted.
Scai limped over after magically removing the saddle and rubbing her horse down. “Oh, how could I be so sore after not riding for only a week?” she groaned.
I laughed. “Oh, you’ll get used to it again very quickly, don’t worry.”
“Yes, I suppose I will,” she said, not sounding at all happy at the prospect.
“And just think how difficult it must be for your horse—he hasn’t been ridden in a month!” Bridget laughed.
“Oh yes, poor thing,” Scai said, turning and blowing a gentle breeze of warm at air at the animal. He neighed appreciatively. “Isn’t it funny how time moves much more slowly on Avalon? We were there for a week, but here a month has passed.”
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