Children of Avalon

by Meredith Bond

  I caught myself from looking as astonished as I felt. “Oh! Well, um, good work, sir. Very well placed.”

  “Maybe you should join us in trying to find and defeat Nimuë,” Scai said, giving him a smile.

  “Oh, no. I’m too old for such nonsense.”

  “I beg your pardon, wot?” Sir Dagonet protested.

  Lord Merwyd looked over at the old knight and laughed again. “Well, better you than I.”

  Sir Dagonet nodded with a resigned look in his eyes. We all laughed as we headed down the stairs.

  ~~~~~

  I took a few minutes to change into a set of clean clothing from my father’s trunk—they were a little small, but they were better than the clothes I’d been wearing for the past two weeks.

  The earl was made sure that I looked well enough to be presented to the king, when I said, “Sir, might I have a word?”

  My father stepped back from straightening my tunic. “Of course. Are you in need of funds? I can’t imagine travelling all over England as you’ve been doing has come cheaply.”

  “Oh, er, no sir. It’s not that. Actually, between Sir Dagonet and me we’ve managed pretty well.” I looked down at the fine, deep blue breeches. “It’s, um, something else, entirely.”

  “Well then, out with it, boy,” my father said, crossing his arms over his chest and, I suppose, preparing for some awful confession.

  I wasn’t certain what he would make of my admission, but I knew that I needed to not only confide in him, but perhaps gain his permission as well. Not to mention, that I would certainly need his help. I cleared my throat but figured that just saying it straight out would be easiest.

  “Scai and I are in love and we want to marry.” The words flowed from my mouth faster than I had intended. I peeked at my father.

  His eyes were wide and his thick gray–black eyebrows rose toward his hairline. He then exhaled and lowered his eyebrows over his eyes in concern. “I suppose something like that was to be expected. Travelling so closely with a woman, you’re bound to...”

  “No. It’s not that. Well, I mean, it is that a little, but this is something I felt the very moment I met her. I’m certain she felt it, too. It’s...it’s as if we were destined not only to work together to find the chalice and defeat Nimuë, but to...to be together as well.”

  “Hmm.” My father was clearly not convinced.

  “We truly love each other, Father. We want to marry.”

  “I understand.”

  “She’s a very special, very wonderful girl.” Was I beginning to whine? Sound desperate? I hoped not.

  “I’m sure she is, but do we know who her family is?”

  “They are Vallen,” I offered.

  “That much is obvious.”

  “I’ve met her brothers. They own property in Gloucester.”

  My father nodded his approval.

  “And she’s a direct descendent of Morgan le Fey. She’s practically Vallen royalty, if there is such a thing.”

  “So are you,” the earl pointed out.

  “Yes. Exactly. Which is why we’re so perfect for each other. I tell you it was destined to happen.”

  My father let out a heavy sigh. “Yes, I suppose that is possible. So you love her.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And want to marry her.”

  “In a church. Properly. She was raised by a priest. That sort of thing is very important to her.”

  “I thought you said her brothers lived in Gloucester?”

  “Er, yes, but her parents left her to be raised by a priest in Wales. It was their way of trying to circumvent the prophecy. It didn’t work.”

  “No. Those things rarely, if ever, do.”

  “Please, sir.” I said.

  He put his arm around my shoulder and began to lead me toward the door. “I suppose if you love her, Dylan, and she feels the same about you. Politically, it’s not the match I would have hoped for you, but I understand and I will arrange what you want.”

  My heart lifted at his acceptance. “Thank you, sir!”

  ~~~~~

  The earl patted me on the back yet again and then gave my shoulder a squeeze. “I am so proud of you!”

  “Yes, Papa, so you’ve said.” I laughed. It was probably the fifth time my father had told me this since the king had knighted me for my bravery. The purse heavy with coin that his majesty dropped into my hand afterward was also especially nice.

  I hadn’t realized that the man I’d killed to protect my father had been the king’s own cousin who had come with the Danes to take over King Edward’s throne. With their leader dead, the Danes were, even now, retreating back north, and hopefully wouldn’t bother the English for a long time to come.

  “Well, I say it because it’s true.” My father laughed.

  “It was just a knighthood. It’s not as if he’s the first young man ever to be knighted,” Sir Dagonet snapped.

  We all stopped and looked at the knight.

  “Is everything all right, Sir Dagonet?” Scai asked, putting her hand on his arm. “You’ve been very quiet for much of the evening.”

  He snatched it away and turned from her. Running his hand through his thick gray hair he walked to the window but said nothing.

  “Sir, this is not like you...” Bridget began.

  “A man can’t be in a foul mood every so often?” he answered back before she had even finished.

  “No. Not when it is Sir Dagonet, the jester of King Arthur’s Round Table,” I answered.

  “Jester! Joker! Imbecile! Am I never to be remembered for the strong knight that I was—that I still am? I wasn’t chosen to be a member of the Round Table because I was funny; I got there because I was a damned good knight. Why, I could beat Lancelot eight out of ten times. But does anyone remember that? No. Only that I was the jester, the fool!”

  “Sir Dagonet,” Scai protested. “What is the matter? This is not like you.”

  “I don’t appreciate being remembered...”

  “Yes, we understand that, and we apologize for it. Of course you were a brave and strong knight, and you still are. Why, not one of us has ever seen anyone else able to fight off three knights at once as you have” Bridget said. “But something is not right. Tell us what is wrong.”

  “Why do you feel angry? Why do you feel wronged?” Scai asked, after catching Sir Dagonet’s eye.

  “I feel it too,” I said. “An intense anger, stronger than anything I’ve ever felt from you.”

  Sir Dagonet swung himself dramatically back toward the window furiously rubbing his left wrist.

  Bridget ran forward and grabbed his arm. Pulling his sleeve back, she bared his wrist and the bracelet he wore there. “What is this? This bracelet?”

  Sir Dagonet snatched his arm away from her. “Nothing.”

  Scai came closer to him as well. “Sir, what is it? Where did you get it?”

  Sir Dagonet turned and looked from one sister to the other.

  “It’s magical isn’t it?” Bridget asked. “It’s a magical talisman of some sort.” She reached out to touch it again. “It’s hot.”

  This time Sir Dagonet didn’t remove his arm. He just stood there for a moment staring at his bracelet. “It was a gift.” He paused and then continued more quietly. “It was a gift from Merlin when he asked me to do this, to look out for you. He told me not to take it off,” he added, moving his arm away when Bridget started tugging at it to get it off of his wrist.

  She frowned up at him but then moved her face closer to his arm so that she could see the bracelet better. I grabbed a candle and held it so that she could see.

  “There’s writing on it,” she said, peering even closer. “ ‘As one shall we be, forever.’ ” She read, turning it as she did so.

  “It’s a nectere!” my father exclaimed.

  “But whose? If Merlin gave this to you...” Bridget said, thinking this out.

  “Was Merlin ever married to anyone, sir?” I asked.

  Sir Dagonet
shook his head. “Not that I know of. There was some gossip about him and Nimuë, but...”

  “Nimuë! She grabbed on to your arm!” Scai cried. “When you tried to throw her over the wall, she grabbed on to you.”

  Sir Dagonet turned to her. “Yes. She did. She held on to my wrists.”

  “She must have touched that bracelet,” Bridget said.

  “Yes,” Scai added. “She and Merlin must have exchanged necteres. When he took his off, it stopped working, but now that she’s touched it again...”

  “I feel everything she’s feeling. That’s why I’ve been so angry. It’s not me, it’s her, don’t you know?” Sir Dagonet actually smiled.

  A sigh escaped all of us. It was such a relief to see the old man back to his usual self. I exchanged a look with Scai, telling me that she felt exactly the same way.

  But Bridget was already thinking ahead. “If you can feel everything she’s feeling, can you tell us where she is?”

  Sir Dagonet thought about that for a minute but then shook his head. “No. I don’t know where she is, but she is very angry.”

  “Well, I’m sure that this will still be a great help in our fight against her,” Scai said, always looking to the bright side of everything.

  “Yes. This is still not over. We may have the chalice back, but we still need to find Nimuë and get rid of her,” I said, looking grimly among my dearest friends.

  Scai looked beside me to my father. “Are you certain you won’t join us, sir?”

  “Oh, no. No, you all go. With God’s speed and my blessings, may you go and do what you need to do.”

  Bridget isn’t sure she has what it takes to be a leader

  …but she’s about to find out. The witch hunts are getting worse by the day. But when Lady Nimuë kidnaps Bridget’s own family things get personal. Only Bridget, the brilliant Scai and powerful Dylan—the prophesied Children of Avalon—have the power to defeat Lady Nimuë. The question is, does Bridget have the strength of will to lead them through to the end?

  When Scai’s childhood friend, Aron the blacksmith, joins their group, Bridget is suddenly faced with a new challenge—this one from her heart. Will her love for Aron get in the way of defeating Nimuë, or will it give her the confidence she’ll need?

  Fire:

  Nimuë’s Destiny

  Meredith Bond

  Copyright 2014 by Meredith Bond. All rights reserved. Smashwords edition.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art by Nina Banerji

  Editing by Alicia Street at iproofreadandmore.com

  Formatting by Anessa Books

  ISBN-13:

  ISBN-10:

  Chapter One

  “Where do we go now?” my sister, Scai asked, as we all settled ourselves on the ground near the wall of the inner courtyard. We weren’t in the most comfortable place in the Holme Castle grounds, but it was the quietest, most remote spot we could find for our private conversation.

  As the prophesied Children of Avalon, Scai, Dylan and I were destined to kill the power-hungry Lady Nimuë or be killed by her. With our mentor, Sir Dagonet and Scai’s childhood friend, Aron, we had to figure out what our next move would be. We’d won the last battle against Lady Nimuë and retrieved Merlin’s Chalice from her, but she was still out there. Still just as—if not even more—determined to kill us.

  Inside the castle, knights were loudly celebrating their victory over the Danes. Neither Scai nor I wanted to be in such close proximity to so many drunken men, and Dylan’s father had retired early in his room. This seemed to be the safest, easiest place for us. The smell of cooking from the kitchens wafted gently around us, blocking out the more unpleasant smells left over from the day when thousands of men were engaged in battle.

  It was hard to settle down. I was still excited from our battle with Nimuë even though that had been nearly two hours ago. So much had happened in those few hours. Dylan had been knighted by the king himself, and then we’d discovered that Sir Dagonet was wearing a nectere connected to Lady Nimuë.

  He could feel everything she was feeling when her emotions ran high. We all really hoped that it would give us an edge in our fight against her. We wouldn’t know where she was, but at least we would know what she was feeling. That had to help us somewhat, didn’t it?

  Lord Merwyd had been so kind as to invite us all for the night to share what little space he had in his castle room. I was immensely grateful for this. It was becoming so cold and I still only had my measly summer shawl to keep me warm along with a thin blanket. It wasn’t nearly enough. Too many nights all I could do was lie there in the dark, on the hard ground, shivering.

  But not tonight. Tonight I would sleep in the warmth of the castle by a fire. I couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped from my lips as I thought of it.

  “I say we go to Gloucester,” I proposed.

  Just one or two nights in a bed, a real bed—my bed—that was all I wanted. In my own home, where I had my own room—and a down coverlet. I would have to share it with Scai, but that was all right. It was still mine and it was still warm. I could practically feel the softness of my feather mattress now. If I just closed my eyes…

  “Nimuë is probably on her way to Saerdbury,” Dylan pointed out, jolting me out of my sweet imaginings.

  “We should follow her there, then,” Aron said.

  I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. I still felt guilty about leaving him out of our fight with Nimuë. He’d found us after the battle and had soaked in all of the details. The only thing that made me feel any better was the fact that Aron wasn’t a Vallen and didn’t have any magic, so he wouldn’t have been able to help in any case. He was extremely strong, physically—the man had shoulders to make a woman swoon—but he wouldn’t have been able to defend himself against Nimuë’s magic. I would have been—we all would have—been upset if he’d gotten hurt in the fight.

  But why wasn’t Aron defending my suggestion that we go to Gloucester? I thought we’d had a connection? I thought he liked me.

  “But we were going to go to Gloucester before we got caught up in the king’s battle,” I pointed out. I didn’t want to look argumentative to Aron, but I really wanted to go home. How many times had my brothers told me that men didn’t like girls who were loud and bossy? I was trying, really trying, to show a good face in front of Aron.

  “The only reason we were going to Gloucester was to find Nimuë,” Dylan said. “She’s got to be well on her way to Saerdbury by now.”

  “Right, so we’ll go to Saerdbury and stop in Gloucester on our way,” I said. “It’s nearly in the same direction.”

  “Only if we follow the main roads. If we cut south, we can make it to Saerdbury faster,” Dylan argued.

  “Going through Gloucester…” I began.

  Dylan sighed. “Bridget, this isn’t a pleasure trip.”

  “No, it’s not,” I answered, a spark of anger alighting in my stomach. “I know we need to get to Saerdbury, but what’s the rush? Why can’t we take a day—a day, that’s all. What is Lady Nimuë going to do that will make losing a day of this journey impossible?”

  Ah-ha! I had Dylan actually thinking about this. He looked at Scai, as if she had the answer.

  “What do you think she’s doing with all these witches she’s captured? I don’t even understand why she’s keeping them,” I added, just for good measure.

  “It’s better than what they were doing before: killing them,” Scai pointed out.

  My heart weighed heavily in my chest at that. Scai and I had found the dead, bloated
body of someone who’d been accused of being a witch and then swum in the river. And we had nearly been killed that way ourselves. It made my stomach churn just thinking about it. “I agree; it is better. But I still don’t understand why she is, well, collecting them, for want of a better word.”

  I looked around, but no one seemed to have an answer. They all looked back at me with either concern or confusion on their faces.

  “Well, we think she was having them hunted down in order to find us, right?” Scai asked. “Hoping that we’d be captured for her.”

  “That’s right,” Sir Dagonet agreed. “Haven’t caught us yet.”

  “Almost,” Dylan reminded him.

  Sir Dagonet sobered at that one. If it hadn’t been for Dylan’s quick thinking and his new ability to make people feel strong emotions, Sir Dagonet would be in Saerdbury along with all of the other witches they’d caught.

  “But wouldn’t we just be playing into Nimuë’s hands if we went to Saerdbury? We’d be right where she wants us,” I pointed out.

  There was a moment of silence as everyone thought about this.

  Finally, Dylan said, “No. I don’t think we would. She won’t be expecting us. We should definitely go there and surprise her.”

  His argument made sense. Damn! But I still wanted, no, needed to go home. I snuggled a little deeper into my thin shawl.

  “Then let’s go to Saerdbury. But let’s stop in Gloucester on our way,” I said, reviving my first argument. It was not easy being quiet and even-tempered. Already I could feel my stomach getting tied up in knots. I wanted to go home but had to remain calm and nice about it. I wondered if Dylan could feel how tense I was.

  “Why waste the time?” Dylan asked. He was beginning to look a little peeved.

  “It wouldn’t be a waste of time. I’ll get to see my family.”

  “Our family,” Scai pointed out quietly, her eyes staying firmly on her own hands in front of her.