Una narrowed her eyes. “You’re Christian?”
“Yes, Una. We are. My husband labors in the church. No one comes there anymore, but we keep it neat as our respect for the Lord’s house.”
“It’s just...I didn’t expect you to be Christian and believe in the Faerie Queen, or at least believe that she’s not the spawn of some devil.” Which was true. The family she’d supped with on the other side of the forest had certainly seemed less open-minded.
Caelia pursed her lips in a tight smile. “You certainly don’t think we’re all the same, do you? That we place all we don’t understand into some demonic box?”
“Well...yes,” Una admitted. That had, at least, been the reaction she’d received in Londinium.
“Child, there are many things that we do not understand. Our religion helps explain some of those things, but it also teaches us to walk by faith, as our Savior once did. My faith tells me there are many truths, and not all of them can be found in Christianity.”
At that moment, Charissa came in carrying a pot of hot liquid that gave off a soothing aroma.
“Ah, good,” said Caelia, wiping her hands on her skirt. “About time. Let’s get this Red Cross knight some food and nourishment.”
Una nodded and rose to her feet to help, before pausing and furrowing her brow. “I never mentioned a Red Cross,” she said. “His shield and armor were lost.”
“Yes, sorry I forgot to tell you,” Caelia waved at one of her daughters. “Speranza, go show the young lady to the stables.”
“Yes, mother,” said her daughter, and waved Una forward. She followed with a curious expression. What were they going to show her?
She followed Speranza outside and around the inn until they arrived at the stables on the north side. There stood two four-legged figures, their heads bobbing up and down as they saw someone approach their pens.
Una’s eyes widened. “It’s George’s horse and mule!” she exclaimed.
“The mule came some time ago,” explained Speranza. “It was burdened with a big load. We found armor in there.”
“George’s armor,” Una breathed. “And that’s his horse too.”
“He arrived some time later,” said Speranza. “Spooked like he’d seen a demon, that one.”
Una nodded, “He must have escaped the City of Pride somehow after George was taken. I’m surprised he wasn’t eaten or something.”
“They ran with the grace of God,” said Speranza. “Perhaps the Faerie Queen or another of His servants are responsible.”
Una stopped herself from smirking. All that religious talk gave her a small stomach ache. And to suggest that the Faerie Queen was a servant of any Christian god was absurd. But she decided on not taking Speranza to task for her beliefs.
“Where is the armor then?” she asked instead.
“We brought it into the house. It’s currently stored in my parents’ bedroom. We cleaned and oiled it, just in case its owner came back to claim it one day.”
Una was surprised. Had she been in their place, she probably would have taken the armor and sold it to the highest bidder, especially with an inn and church in need of some solid repairs and trappings. Clearly everyone in this little town had fallen on hard times. She hadn’t even seen anyone else apart from Caelia and her daughters.
“We appreciate that,” she said. “I’m sure George will want them eventually.”
“We are happy to help,” said Speranza with a little added enthusiasm. Una cocked an eyebrow at the girl, but followed her inside.
There she found George had left the bath and when Una checked the kitchen, she found him lying upon the kitchen table on his stomach while Caelia bandaged some of his worst wounds with long strips of cloth and a foul-smelling poultice.
“What is that?” Una asked as she drew nearer, fighting the urge to cover her mouth with her hand.
“Lavender, dandelion, and comfrey, ground up with a spot of whiskey,” explained the old woman. “My own concoction. It’ll sting a bit, but there’s nothing better to treat infected flesh, not as I’ve got.”
Indeed, George winced every time she placed a bandage with the dark brown-green ointment. Sometimes he even groaned. But his face was already showing some added color, probably from the hot bath.
Una assisted in bandaging him up, before they brought him upstairs to an open bed, and lay him down to sleep.
“We should have someone keep watch over him for now,” said Una, remembering the night in the cave.
“Very well,” said Caelia. “One of my daughters can take the first watch.”
“No,” George spoke for the first time since entering the inn. “Una, please.”
Caelia looked at Una, who nodded. “I can do it. Just for the first few hours.”
“You sure you don’t need some rest yourself?”
She did, but it could wait. She said as much, and soon found herself sitting in a chair beside a comfortable, feather bed, watching George’s chest rise up and down with steady breathing. Soon, the others left, and it was just her and the Red Cross knight.
31
There was silence for some time. Una began to think George had already fallen asleep from the way his eyes were closed, when he spoke, “I wouldn’t be here without you,” he said in a low tone.
A slight smile graced her lips. “I know.”
He laughed, softly, not enough to make his body shiver with pain. “Who was the other man who helped me get here?”
“That’s Arthur Pendragon,” she said. “He’s not exactly my favorite person, but he did a good job of killing that…”
“He’s that Arthur? The Arthur Pendragon?” George looked like he was about ready to roll out of the bed and go back downstairs again.
“Yes, have you heard of him?”
“Everyone has heard of him!” he cried. “The boy who ran off instead of be crowned king, but kept the sword Caliburn so no one else could claim the responsibility.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“But you know what this means? It means he’s still alive. He could take control of our armies, unite the lords, even some of the Romans would fight for him under the right circumstances. He could help drive away the Saxons.”
Una hesitated. “I’m not sure that’s what he wants.”
“But...but, he has to. We need him to.”
“I’m not the one to talk to about all that,” said Una. “I’ve been locked away in a cell for three years, remember?”
His face lost the excitement. “I’m sorry, you’re right.” He winced as he shifted position slightly in the bed. “I suppose you’ll tell me to get to sleep.”
“You know me so well,” she said, dryly.
“I’m feeling better already, though my back stings like nothing else.”
“You’ll be safe here,” said Una. “They even recovered your mule and everything it was carrying. It’s in the stables.”
“By jove,” he said, softly. “Who would have thought? I thought you had it.”
“I did, but it...ran off,” she said, deciding not to tell him about taming the lion.
“Well I’m glad it found its way here, just as you found your way to me.”
“Yeah…” said Una, feeling her emotions take a downward turn. She wouldn’t mention the fact she would have gone right through the forest without him if it hadn’t been for the Faerie Queen’s intervention.
“I know we haven’t known each other for very long,” said George. “But I would very much like to. Get to know you, I mean.”
For a moment, Una’s emotions split into two parts. One rose in excitement. He wanted to get to know her, to be a part of her life. But another part sank in denial. Even if both of them managed to live past their fight with the dragon, assuming George even wanted to do that now, she wasn’t one to attach herself to any one person. The last time she had implicitly trusted someone, it had led to her imprisonment. Such attachments brought too much pain with them.
“What
about the kitchen wench,” she said, her head bowed. “Did you say the same to her?”
“Una,” he said, and paused. “Una.” She raised her head till she was facing him. His eyes were earnest. “Una, you need to know, nothing happened between me and that woman. We had a bit of fun, that was all. We didn’t even do anything, shall we say, unchaste. To be honest, I’ve never truly fallen in love with someone before.”
“Neither have I,” whispered Una, admitting it to another person for the first time in her life. She stayed silent for a while.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” said George, misunderstanding her silence for hesitation. “I understand.”
“No,” said Una, sorting through her conflicting emotions. “I...I think I’d like that. But perhaps it would be better after we sort out all this business at Castle Silene.”
George swallowed. “The dragon.”
She nodded.
“I still intend to fight it, Una,” he said. “That was the Faerie Queen’s mission for me, and she sent you so I could fulfill that quest. Once my strength has recovered, I will fight it, and I will win.”
“I hope you do,” said Una, worry creasing her brow. “Because I don’t want you to die.”
He smiled. “We are in agreement, I think,” he said with a soft chuckle.
She laughed with him, enjoying the moment. When it ended, she added, “Now you get some sleep, or that day will never come. You’ll need time to not only heal but to gain your strength as well.”
“It is fine,” he said, “we still have several days until the midsummer solstice.”
She nodded, though her heart plunged. If her calculations were correct, the solstice was only three days away. She would need to be at the place of the castle’s disappearance on that day, whether George could be there to help or not.
What if he couldn’t? Three days was hardly enough time to recover from wounds like those he bore, and Gloriana had made it clear she needed the knight if she was to survive. Perhaps Arthur could help? He seemed just as competent with the sword, if not far more so, than George. If George was enough to keep her from dying, Arthur should be just as good.
She continued watching George until he fell asleep and spent the next few hours simply observing the rise and fall of his breathing.
Soon afterward, Fidelia replaced her, and she went to her own bed that Caelia had prepared for her. It was the first real bed she had slept in since before her imprisonment. That, combined with the knowledge that George would be alright, was the best feeling she had ever experienced in years.
The next two days were spent constantly seeing to George’s needs, though even by the following morning, he was able to stand on his own and make his way up and down the stairs.
Still, he continuously bathed, after which Dame Caelia and her daughters once again wrapped him in his bandages. This happened twice a day.
In the meantime, George and Una took what chances they could to walk about the inn, talking as they went, and sharing previously rare laughs.
Arthur remained unusually quiet throughout their time there, saying little or nothing to Una as the two days went by.
“What’s up with you?” she asked one evening after George had gone to bed. “Are you worried about the fight with the dragon?”
He was quiet for a time, before answering, “I’m not going to go with you to Castle Silene, Una.”
A pause, then, “What?” she asked.
“It’s not my place,” he said, though his face seemed to indicate he wanted to say more.
“What do you mean, it’s not your place? I need you,” she said. “You’re the best fighter we have, with George on the mend. If he fights the dragon alone, he’ll die. We’ll both die.”
“He’s gaining his strength fast.”
“Yes, but the window of opportunity is tomorrow, Arthur. Tomorrow. George will never be ready by then.”
“I think perhaps you underestimate him,” he said. “I would come if I could, but I’m afraid I will not.”
“Unbelievable. I thought you had changed.”
He grimaced. He knew she was going to bring this up.
“Three years ago you left me to my enemies, and now you are going to do it again.”
“It’s not like that, Una. Please.”
“Well if it’s not like that, then how is it? Are you too scared? That much I could at least understand if not condone. Even George isn’t scared, and he’s still recovering from being tortured nearly to death!”
“The Faerie Queen asked that I not participate.”
She froze, her next insult hanging on her tongue. “What?”
“She said this fight had to be your own, yours and George’s. Or at least that’s what Tom Thumb repeated to me. I don’t like it any more than you do.”
“Why would she want that from you? Doesn’t she want this dragon to be killed? We’d have a better chance with you there.”
“I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “Though I have a feeling it has something to do with my supposed destiny to be king. I’m too valuable to risk going up against a dragon.”
“Well you don’t want to be king, so it shouldn’t matter to you.” He seemed to consider that, his mouth open in a sort of pained conflict of emotion. “I’m sorry, Una. I’ll stay tonight and look after George, but I will be leaving in the morning.”
She stared at him, her eyes and mouth hardening. “Fine,” she bit out. “If you can’t come, then we’ll just die together.”
“I hope not, and I hope that the Faerie Queen is right to ask this of me. I certainly do not want to abandon you.” He rose to his feet.
“Then don’t,” she pleaded. “Arthur. You said yourself that the Faerie Queen is not omniscient.”
“We don’t know for sure that what she says is right, and you and your sword can do things we can’t.”
“Perhaps that is the point,” he said, crossing the room to head upstairs and take watch over George. “Perhaps it’s not supposed to be easy for you.”
With that, he climbed the stairs, leaving Una alone in the darkened inn.
Caelia wandered in through the door, holding a wet bowl in one hand and a soapy rag in another. Her eyes wandered in the direction Arthur had gone, and clearly she had heard the interaction between him and Una. Una turned away, trying to indicate with her body language that she did not want to talk.
It didn’t work.
“Having trouble, dear?” said the woman, continuing to rub the bowl as if she only held a mild interest in the previous conversation.
“No trouble,” said Una.
“You know, child,” Caelia placed the bowl on the counter and came closer to sit next to Una. “I know it’s not really any of my business, but what are your goals in returning to this castle of yours?”
Una squinted at her, confused. “I’m not sure what you mean. I want to find my parents if they’re still alive and kill the dragon if it’s even possible.”
“And why do you want to find your parents?”
“Because...well because they’re my parents.” Una had no idea where the old woman was going with these questions. “I see you remember them fondly.”
“I suppose so,” said Una. “They taught me how to hunt, cook, ride, entertain nobles, basically everything a princess needs to know, and a few other useful skills.”
“So you value them because you value what they taught you?”
“Yes, is there a point to these questions?”
Caelia nodded. “I’m sorry, just an old woman’s habit. I like to know everything I can about any given situation.”
“It’s fine, I guess,” said Una, staying in her seat while the older woman rose to a standing position.
“Just know this, it is important to remember what motivates us, and to choose to focus on that which matters most. Otherwise, we may be apt to disappointment.”
With that the old woman wandered back into the kitchen, likely to continue working on the dishes.
>
That had been an odd conversation. What did Caelia mean that what motivated her might also disappoint her? What could be bad about her parents being a source of motivation? Almost anyone in her position might do the same.
This place was starting to get to her. The old woman reminded her too much of the Faerie Queen, and the daughters were a little nauseating in how good they were. And she hasn’t even met the husband, who apparently spent most of his day in the church or tending to the sheep they raised. When he did come in, it was long after the rest of them had gone to bed.
She needed a way out. Thankfully, tomorrow was the midsummer solstice. They would find the dragon and her castle or they would have to wait another year. And there was no way she was going to let that happen.
32
The steady whack of an axe against a wood log provided exactly the relief of tension that George needed. He was surprised at how well he had recovered so far. Sure, most of his back ached, and his muscles were still not as strong as he was used to, but there was no more time for that now.
With another crack, he brought the axe down on another piece of wood before moving on to the next one.
It was early morning, but he would have expected to see Una here by now, eager as she was to get to Castle Silene. Instead, he spotted Arthur coming towards him from the house. Standing up a little straighter, he tried very hard to look natural.
“How do you feel?” asked Arthur as he approached.
“Not bad, to be honest,” said George. “Just some topical pain, mostly.”
Arthur nodded, “That’s good.”
There was a bit of an awkward silence while George tried to figure out what to do. When he could not, he simply picked up another log and brought the axe down on it.
“I know we haven’t spoken much before now,” said Arthur. “But I’d just like to say that I’ve been impressed by you. You brought yourself out of a very dark place.”
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