Children of Avalon

by Meredith Bond

  I didn’t know whether to laugh or be truly worried. Was this another attack on us? Was there magic here... or what? Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to figure it out, the tree was definitely getting the upper hand, er, branch.

  Sir Dagonet was being attacked on two fronts by two thick branches, one on either side of him. The old knight was doing his best to defend himself, but wasn’t quite able to hold them both off. I advanced into the fray.

  It was indeed a strong tree, no matter who or what was manipulating it. Its golden and red leaves whipped across my face when I tried to get too close, and then came back to nearly unseat me from my horse.

  I engaged with the tree with all of my might, but I wasn’t entirely certain how to attack. Would it help to slash out and try to slice through a branch? Or should I go for the tree’s trunk—its “heart”? For the time being, though, I didn’t have much choice but to defend myself from the swinging branches.

  Bridget’s sniggers of laughter from across the road distracted me, nearly disastrously, as the branch I was fighting came close to bashing me in the face—again.

  I turned for a quick glance at Sir Dagonet. The man was definitely having too much fun for this to be a real threat and Scai was nowhere to be seen. I paused, ducking as the branch came at me again.

  Giggling.

  Now that I listened for it, I could clearly distinguish the sound. It was soft, but it was there, among the branches of the tree. It was the most beautiful sound I’d heard for a while.

  The surge of relief burst out of me with shout of laughter. “We will subdue you, Sir Oak, for certain! You will not get the better of us. Do you know with whom you fight? It is no less than the legendary Sir Dagonet and his trusty squire.”

  The trees branches paused and began to shake.

  “Ah ha! You’ve scared it into submission, don’t you know?” Sir Dagonet exclaimed.

  But with that the tree took another good swipe at the knight and engaged us both once again, not backing down for even a moment.

  Bridget clapped her approval and shouted out words of encouragement—I wasn’t sure if they were meant for me and Sir Dagonet or for Scai up in the tree. Her laughter and shouts, though, suddenly ended in a true scream of terror.

  “Stop! In the name of the king, I charge you.” The strange man’s voice was much too close.

  I spun around and found Bridget standing with two swords pointed at her—one to her throat, another to her heart.

  The two knights slowly dismounted, not letting their swords waver from their target.

  “I say!” Sir Dagonet objected.

  I jumped from my horse and pointed my own sword toward the knights. “Lower your weapons,” I commanded. I took another step closer. “Or you shall feel the sting of my sword faster than you can possibly imagine.”

  One of the knights turned. “Do you defend this witch?” he asked, as if he could not believe what I was asking.

  “I defend the girl,” I corrected him.

  “But she is clearly a witch. She was manipulating that tree into attacking you,” the second knight said, pressing his weapon closer to Bridget’s chest.

  I raised my sword and was ready to strike through the first knight when Scai’s voice called from within the tree. “Stop! She was doing nothing of the sort.”

  The two men nearly dropped their swords in shock as they spun toward the “talking tree.”

  Scai scooted out onto one of the branches she had just been moving about. “I was shaking the branches. It was a joke. A trick we were playing on our friends.”

  The first knight sighed loudly and sheathed his sword.

  “These times are too dangerous for such jokes,” the second said, also putting away his weapon.

  I, too, lowered my sword but found my heart pounding much harder than it should have been. Would I really have fought these men if they’d harmed Bridget? A quick and resounding yes echoed in my mind.

  Sir Dagonet moved his horse closer to Scai so that she could climb down from the tree on to its back.

  “Sorry for the misunderstanding, wot, wot?” the old man said. “Didn’t realize there would be anyone passing by getting caught in our foolery.”

  The knights nodded. “It is a shame, but in these times you can’t be too careful.”

  “I don’t understand why everyone is so scared of witches suddenly,” Scai said, jumping down from Sir Dagonet’s horse.

  The second knight shook his head and gave her a condescending smile. “We’re not scared, Miss. We’re just doing our job.”

  “What is that?” I asked.

  The knight seemed reluctant to pull his eyes away from Scai, but a beat late, he turned back toward me. It was not a pleasant, friendly look I gave him for ogling my... well, I supposed she was just my friend, but truly she was so much more than that.

  The man took a step back away from me, but answered by question. “We are charged to capture any and all who might be witches.”

  “The king has ordered this?” Sir Dagonet asked.

  The two knights shared a look, which I couldn’t interpret.

  “I say,” Sir Dagonet said, coming down off of his horse. He paused to look around and then led his horse across the road to tether it just next to a fallen tree a few steps off into the wood. “This looks like an excellent place for a bit of a nip and a sit down. Care to join us?” he asked the two knights. He reached into his saddlebags and pulled out the two bottles of ale we had bought but so far had not touched.

  “Is that the excellent ale we brought from the inn, Sir Dagonet?” Scai asked settling herself down on the ground facing the fallen tree.

  A twinkle entered Sir Dagonet’s eye and he gave Scai a little wink. “Yes, it is, my dear. I’ve been saving this for just the right time, and I believe this is it, wot?”

  The two knights shared a quick look at each other and then, with a shrug, seemed to agree that it would be all right to join us.

  They sat down carefully on the fallen tree trunk, but not without a good deal of noise from the chain mail they both wore. I took up a seat between Bridget, who settled herself next to her sister, and one of the knights, closing the circle. I didn’t trust either of these men to be too close to either of the girls.

  Sir Dagonet handed one of the bottles to Scai and the other to the knight next to him.

  We all passed the bottles around, drinking our fill.

  I broke the silence when I couldn’t bear it any more. “So what would you have done to Bridget if she had been a witch?”

  “Dylan!” Scai protested.

  “I’m just curious,” I said out loud. Mentally, I projected to her, If we can find out, maybe we can help people being accused of witchcraft.”

  Scai didn’t say anything more, just took Bridget’s hand and gave her sister a reassuring look.

  “Somewhere in the vicinity is a wagon being loaded with the accused,” one of the knights answered.

  “Any idea where they’re being taken?” Sir Dagonet asked, catching right on to my idea.

  “Saerdbury,” the other knight said. “They’ll stand trial there.”

  “Stand trial?” Scai asked. “Who will judge them?”

  The two men looked at each other for a minute, clearly neither one knowing the answer.

  “I’ve heard Father du Lac’s name mentioned,” one of the said after a moment. “He’s the king’s confessor and he was with the king and Lord Trafford when we were ordered to this duty.”

  Scai gasped and Bridget nearly jumped up.

  Both knights gave the girls sharp looks.

  “We’ve, uh, heard of Father du Lac,” Scai said, explaining away their reactions.

  The knights nodded, but said nothing.

  “Yes, we’ve heard of him,” Sir Dagonet echoed Scai while the look he gave me and the girls kept all of our mouths closed to further comment.

  With the bottles empty, the knights mounted their horses and left us, heading north.

  “I can
’t say I’m sorry to see them go in the other direction,” Bridget said.

  “Nor I,” Sir Dagonet agreed.

  “Dylan would you really have fought them if they’d tried to take me away?” Bridget asked.

  I didn’t hesitate with my answer. “Of course I would have.”

  She gave me a mischievous smile. “And it’s not just because I’m a girl and you’re bound to defend maidens in distress?”

  I slung an arm around her shoulders. “Bridget, I’ve told you, you’re just like a sister to me. I will always defend you, no matter what.”

  “In that case, maybe I’ll ride with you.” She looked up at me with warm smile teasing her lips.

  I was a little alarmed at this. I liked Bridget and felt as if she were my sister, but she still had very strong emotions and it was tiring to me to have to constantly be fending them off. On the other hand, it would probably be good practice for me to try to let her emotions flow through me and not react to them.

  “All right.” I could do this. I hadn’t practiced with emotions for a few days, so yes, riding with Bridget would be good for me.

  I mounted my horse and then held out my hand for her to pull herself up to join me.

  “Why would Nimuë want all of the witches in the kingdom killed?” Bridget asked, as we started down the road.

  “Power,” Sir Dagonet answered concisely.

  “Does killing witches give her more power?” Scai asked.

  “No. Just makes for fewer people who might have the power to object to her seizing it, don’t you know,” he answered.

  We were all quiet for a little while as we digested this.

  “Do you suppose she’s in Saerdbury, then?” Scai asked.

  Sir Dagonet shook his head. “Don’t know. Either there or with the king sending out these orders, wot?”

  “She must be in Saerdbury,” I said. “The knight said she was there to try these people.”

  “He didn’t say she was there now,” Bridget said

  “No, but she must be.”

  We rode in silence until I began to itch with impatience at the pace.

  I half turned to Bridget behind me, who had been blissfully, if unusually, quiet. “Would you mind if we went on ahead for a little while?”

  She gave me a bright smile and a flare of excitement sparked in her eyes. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  I laughed. “Sir Dagonet, we’re going to go for a bit of a gallop.”

  “Right ho. We’ll catch up to you.” The old man waved us off as I kicked my heels into the side of my horse.

  We hadn’t gone very far, though, when we came to another road leading off to the west. I slowed my horse and then brought us to a stop.

  “What is it?” Bridget asked.

  “This probably leads to Saerdbury. It would be a lot faster if we took this road straight there rather than going through Gloucester.”

  “But we’re not going to Saerdbury.”

  I half turned around to talk to her more easily. “Yes, we are. Those knights said that Nimuë was in Saerdbury. Obviously that’s where we need to go.”

  Bridget slid down off the horse. “No. We’re going first to Gloucester to see my family.” I could feel Bridget’s anger growing within her. It bled through making me warm.

  I followed her to the ground. “Your family? What do you think this is, a pleasure trip? Bridget, we’re in pursuit of Nimuë and the chalice. Have you forgotten?”

  “No, I haven’t forgotten. But Nimuë can wait another day while I see my brothers.”

  “No, she can’t. We don’t know what she’s doing with that chalice now that she has it. We can’t take the risk of losing even a day. That’s why I’m so frustrated with Sir Dagonet’s slow and easy pace. We have to get there fast.” I realized that I was practically shouting by the time I finished. I took a deep calming breath. It was Bridget and her anger that I was channeling; it wasn’t my own emotions. I had to let it flow through me. Just let it go.

  “We don’t know that she’s doing anything with it. We don’t know if she knows how to work it or if there is even anything to work. All we know about the chalice is that we could talk to Merlin with it. We can take a day to see my family.” Now it was Bridget who was shouting.

  I worked hard to push away her anger. “Or she may know exactly how to work it. It’s not just a way to speak to Merlin, it holds all of his powers. We can’t...”

  “I want to see my family!” Bridget said, cutting me off. She glared at me with a look that sent prickles of heat piercing my arms.

  No, wait. I truly was feeling prickles along my arms. Intense, itching prickles. I scratched fiercely at my right arm, shoving my sleeve up at the same time. It was covered with large red welts that burned and itched like mad.

  “What did you do to me?” I asked, scratching away at my skin.

  “I didn’t do anything. Why are you being so pig–headed about this? What difference is one day going to make?” She didn’t even look at my arm she was so focused on making her point.

  I switched scratching the one arm and moved to the other, which was also itching and burning. It, too, was covered with red welts. “Bridget! Shut up for a minute about your family and look at me!” I shoved my arms in front of her face, her fury burning through me along with my own fear for what she was doing to me. I’d never felt anything like this before. My whole body was beginning to itch.

  She stopped and looked down at my arm, but then, with a cry, crumpled into a heap on the ground. Great sobs tore out of her as she covered her face with her hands.

  “Bridget, what is it? Argh!” It was so intense—this itching. The burning. I couldn’t do anything. I didn’t know why she’d just collapsed like that, but if this didn’t stop I was going to go mad. I tore at my arm, my stomach, anything within easy reach.

  “Oh, my God! Bridget what is it?” Scai’s voice penetrated my mind, but I couldn’t concentrate. I couldn’t think of anything but the itching and burning all over my body. Why wasn’t there any water nearby? A cold stream would stop it. Ice cold water, that’s what I needed. I had to stop this. Rough hands grabbed my shoulders.

  “Dylan, what did you do to Bridget?” Sir Dagonet asked, holding me, steady to give me a shake.

  “Nothing! Look what she did to me.” I held out my bloodied arms while still scratching away at the burning skin.

  “What? She did that?”

  “Dylan, you’ve got to...” Scai started to say and then gasped as she took in my arms as I scratched at my stomach with one hand and my leg with the other.

  “What’s happened to them?” her whisper penetrated my distress.

  “Don’t know. Looks like they attacked each other,” Sir Dagonet answered.

  “We should never have let them go off together. Oh, Bridget, hush now. Please, please stop crying,” Scai pleaded with her sister.

  Sir Dagonet stilled my furiously scratching hands. “Dylan, you’ve got to stop Bridget from crying. She’ll be able to help you. Only you can put a stop to this.”

  My body shuddered as the burning fired through me, but through the haze I understood. Only Bridget could stop my itching and she could only do that once she’d stopped crying. Taking a deep breath, I clenched my hands to keep them from scratching and focused my mind. I had to stop Bridget from crying.

  It was nearly impossible to think when my body was on fire with the need to scratch. Focus. There was some magic at work here, something that was making her weep hysterically. I couldn’t imagine what it was or who had done it.

  I gritted my teeth against the itching and squatted down next to her. Placing my hand on her shoulder I shoved aside my own distress and concentrated on hers. There was an intense sadness overwhelming her. It didn’t seem to be focused on any one event, but just a general feeling of such strength that she couldn’t control herself. The feeling pulsed within her as I drew it out. I couldn’t replace it with anything happy because of my own agony, but at least I could draw out
the negative emotion within her.

  With a last hiccup, she stopped crying almost as suddenly as she had started. She took a deep breath with a look of relief all over her face.

  “Please,” was all I could manage to say as I held my shaking arms out to her. Blood trickled from the welts I’d caused with my scratching and both arms were bright red.

  Bridget placed cooling hands upon my heated skin and immediately the itching went away. My whole body sagged in relief. Refreshing coolness washed over me, taking away the burning and itching everywhere.

  I looked at my arms. Miraculously, they looked as if nothing had happened except for a slight redness where I had scratched my skin open.

  “You didn’t do that, did you? You didn’t make me cry,” Bridget asked, before I could even give her my thanks.

  “No.” I shook my head. “And you didn’t cause my itching.” It wasn’t a question. I knew this for certain. No matter how angry Bridget was, she didn’t attack in that way.

  Sir Dagonet’s armor clinked as he spun around, taking a step in this direction and then that, looking for anyone who could have been responsible. “No one about, wot, wot?”

  We were in a pretty open spot. It should have been easy to see anyone nearby, but there was no one.

  “No one could be hiding behind those trees?” Scai asked pointing further down the road.

  “Don’t think so. Can’t tell for certain until we get there,” Sir Dagonet answered.

  “By which time, they’ll be long gone.”

  “Well, there’s no one in the field,” Bridget said, looking off in that direction, away from the road.

  “Whoever is doing this to us is somehow getting away very quickly,” I pointed out.

  “But how? It’s got to be more than one person. No one can control fire, wind and now, water,” Scai said.

  Sir Dagonet drew his thick, white eyebrows down in a scowl. “Don’t like this, don’t you know? Don’t like this at all.”

  “I can’t think that any of us do, sir,” I said, standing again. I reached down a hand to help Bridget up as well.

  The old man shook his head again. “Not right.”