The Knight

by Kim Dragoner

  On the plains, they rode out far ahead of the rest of the traveling party and found pheasant and rabbits in the brush which Celyn chased into the open and Rhys and Richard shot down from vantage points in the trees. In the woodlands, they stalked deer, tracking them on horseback. Rhys would ride down the selected animal and shoot it while standing in the stirrups.

  He took Broderick out on these expeditions; the horse was as much a warrior as he was. Surefooted and determined in his stride at any pace but most of all, he was fearless. The hunting was good and got better the further north they went. They arrived in Bedworth very late on the third night, riding into the stable yard of the Lion’s Inn hours after dark. Nevertheless, the innkeeper was expecting them and ushered the men into the common room for warm broth and bread. After a flagon or two of good wine, the men bedded down in the common room while Rhys, Richard, Gwallawc and Caradoc took a room upstairs.

  The next morning while his father and the other men were eating their breakfast of hot oat porridge, Rhys found the innkeeper and asked if any messages had come for him. The innkeeper’s wife brought out a folded parchment from her apron pockets.

  “The messenger said to deliver the letter to you in private and bring no attention to it. I was going to wait until you were departing to have the stable boy hand it to you,” she explained.

  “That would have done the job, however I find myself anxious to receive this news,” Rhys replied.

  He sat in the kitchen, opened the paper and read.

  “Rhys,

  I received this from Naida in response to my letter. I have had no difficulties communicating with her in this way; I found her reply by the next morning.

  As I did not have the chance to send you off properly, I must say that I wish you the best of luck as you travel north. This task is important but I know you have the skills to succeed. I will see you again, very soon.

  Your loyal friend,

  Erasmus, at Avalon.”

  Inside Erasmus’ letter was another fold of parchment sealed with bright green wax. He tore it open next and read.

  “Rhys, my love,

  I was relieved to get your valet’s letter at the Everlasting Pool. You will see many cities during your travels and your destination is many days’ ride into the northern country. I will miss you dearly. Remember when you are out there, if you desire to speak to me, find a pond and I will find you just as I did in Red Ditch. If there is no pond, place a bowl of water on the ground at sundown and when the sun just passes below the horizon call my name three times into the water. I will wait with much longing to see your face at that time, my love.

  You are special, Rhys. Your destiny is great and has become intimately entwined with mine and that of my people. Keep yourself safe. I wait patiently until I may see you again.

  My heart is yours,

  Naida”

  Rhys could hardly breathe as he read the letter over and over.

  Finally, he folded the papers, tucked them into his jerkin and returned to the common room to finish his breakfast. The sun had already risen and it was time to depart. The ride to Nottingham Castle was not a very long one but it was known to be difficult, weaving through a fair amount of rough terrain. Sheffield would be the longest distance they had gone in a day since leaving Kenilwurt, but they were determined to arrive at Sheffield Manor Hall in four days and avoid too many hard nights in the open.

  Once on the road, Rhys turned his mind away from the letter against his chest and toward the matters at hand. If they made good time, they would arrive at the Thorn and Ivy Inn in Leicester by the next day and at least the hearty meal and warm bed would comfort him somehow. The retinue of men and supplies would be leaving them there and returning to Kenilwurt, leaving Rhys and the others to go the rest of the way on their own. Rhys wanted to thank them with a substantial animal which they would prepare for supper that night, which meant the day would be dedicated to bringing down a large kill.

  He left his elders to their bantering and veered off into the woodlands with Richard. Celyn followed at a distance behind them as was customary when hunting the animal that the boys had in mind. After an hour, they found the trail of a small sounder of pigs and set chase. It didn’t take them long to find them foraging for roots and mushrooms among some fallen trees in a quiet clearing. Richard dismounted and tied his horse to a tree, continuing on foot. Celyn climbed a tall tree and found a vantage point from which to watch the animals. He was careful to be very quiet; wild pigs were known to charge at people and hurt or kill them during a hunt. Rhys circled them and identified a large boar with huge tusks. It would make a prize catch. Suddenly, Celyn whistled the call and Richard was standing in the clearing shouting at the pigs. They all stood still, glaring at him for a moment then the boar dipped his head and started digging at the ground with his front trotters. He paused to see if Richard would advance and when the boy ran toward him, he charged. Richard ran as fast as he could and vaulted onto the lowest branch of a nearby tree, shimmying up the trunk as the boar reached it and attempted to climb up after him. Then Rhys rode out of the woods at a full gallop, determined to catch the pig in his distraction. Standing high in Broderick’s saddle, he released one of his new broad head arrows, sending it flying right through the pig’s gullet. The boar collapsed on the spot and his herd dispersed in a myriad of grunts and squeals.

  When he reached the foot of the tree, Rhys helped Richard down and Celyn came running out of the woods. The boys grasped arms and embraced, laughing heartily. The adrenaline from the hunt was coursing wildly through their veins, but the bounty of their efforts lay on the ground at their feet. The pig was at least five feet long and very fat; it would do very nicely at their dinner that night.

  The boys’ celebration was suddenly punctuated by a distant howl deeper in the woods. They stood silent, listening to gauge the distance of the wolf that had alarmed them. He was at least a mile or so away, but the scent of the kill would travel fast. Quickly, they cut a long sturdy branch from the tree Richard had climbed earlier and used their ropes to lash the boar to the center of it. Richard mounted his horse holding one end of the limb on his shoulder and Celyn did the same. They rode back to join the traveling party with the large pig bobbing from the stake between them. The men gave a loud roar at the sight of the animal.

  That night, the spit in the camp hissed and sputtered under the dripping fat and juices from the roasting boar and the air was filled with the delicious smell of meat. At the table, Rhys’ father beamed with pride but he said nothing to his son. It was Caradoc who turned to Rhys and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  Quietly he said, “I have seen with my own eyes that you are a man, Rhys. This hunt has proven your worthiness and your courage. You will succeed on the voyage and when you return to us, you will return as your true self, a proven Dragon Prince.”

  Rhys’ eyes filled with tears at his uncle’s words but he quickly quelled them, allowing not one to spill over. Silently, he nodded his thanks to him and returned to his meal.

  That night, Rhys took to his own tent and sat in silence in front of the brazier until the coals began to fade. He was tired but the anxiety he felt knotted his stomach, and drove the sleep away. He retrieved the letters he had received from Erasmus and Naida and re-read them, wishing that Erasmus could be close to him or that he could hear Naida’s clear voice again. He folded the papers and tucked them back into his satchel, climbed into the large bed and fell quickly asleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Rhys woke in the dead of the night with hardly any effort at all. He had to try to summon Naida tonight. When the moon was high, he walked down to the River Trent, found a tiny sedimentary pond by the bank and sat down beside it.

  “Naida,” he whispered.

  “Rhys, how good to see you,” she replied.

  They sat and stared at each other for a while. After what seemed like hours, he suddenly spoke.

  “Has a muse never found a way to become human?” Rhys
asked her suddenly.

  Naida gasped at the forthright question.

  “Well, there is an old myth about one muse who did manage to take human form, but she was so unfortunate for all her human days afterwards that the conundrum has always been whether it was really worth all her efforts at all.”

  “Tell me the story,” he whispered to her suggestively.

  She smiled, blushing until her neck and throat, as well as her cheeks, were pink. Clearing her throat, she began.

  “Her name was Calamity. She was an artist’s muse many centuries ago in the time of Babylonia. She went to him in a dream one night, whispering in his ear about a terraced building with aqueducts for water where he could make beautiful plants and flowers flourish in the middle of the desert and which would make him famous for millennia.

  “She appeared to him repeatedly in his dreams until he finished the final sketches of the gardens and then as the waters started flowing through the aqueducts and canals, she would appear in the pools and fountains and they would sit and talk and gaze at each other for hours on end. The man would bathe in the pools so that he could imagine that she could touch him and that they were lying together. He recited the poems of a king to her and she responded with these poems as well. Soon Calamity got tired of the distant relationship and the man’s heart was so tied to her that he became ill from not being able to hold her in his arms. He wanted her to be his wife and be with him on Earth forever. She wanted the same. So she went to Oberon and Mab and stated her case. They felt pity for her because in those days there was never a couple more in love than the royal couple were. Mab did not want Calamity to leave Eon, as she was one of her favorites at court, but she understood what the faery felt. Mab asked Titania, the High Priestess, to set a task for Calamity that would prove her conviction to the man and Oberon asked Mikah, High Steward, to do the same for the man. The man came to Eon and performed his task while Calamity was sent to Earth to do hers.

  “It was meant to be a timely process because if too much time passed they would both begin to age rapidly. Calamity completed her task and returned to Eon to take the man back to Earth with her but when she arrived she found he had not completed his task and was growing weak and old. Calamity insisted that Mab perform the wedding ceremony and after they had been together for one night, they set to finish the task together. The union with his new wife reversed the signs of aging in the man since she was still a faery, but when the task was finished and Calamity pulled the man through the water back to Earth he died in her arms from drowning as she did not have the strength to take him through the watery path quickly enough.

  “So now she was human and could not return to Eon. Calamity buried her husband in a crypt below the beautiful hanging gardens he had built for her and tended the plants until she grew old. One day, she dressed and left the garden. She walked to the sea and called to Amphitrite begging her to take her back to the water saying her feet were tired of dust and dirt. Amphitrite took her into the water and sent her to Anthemoessa, the Island of the Sirens, to be a handmaid to the three creatures.

  “Every step she made in an effort to expedite her love of a human man was met with misfortune and distress; she was so ill-fated that she could not even find peace in her long mourning for her husband. That is why even today when events cause great suffering and distress or disasters, humans refer to it as a calamity.”

  Rhys was lying on his back with his eyes closed, listening to her tale. He was enchanted and couldn’t look at her for fear that his emotions would be too plain in his green eyes.

  “Naida,” he finally managed to say, opening his eyes to look up at the moon, “is the story true?”

  “I do not know if the story is true, Rhys, but it is my experience that all legends and myths are born of true events; the only complication is that the stories are so old, one can never tell how much of it is still accurate.”

  He sighed deeply and as the breath left his body, courage seemed to replace it.

  “You are the most intriguing woman I have ever met. I look forward to seeing you again every time we are apart and I find myself wishing that we could be together more often.”

  “I feel the same, Rhys, and the feeling is so strong that it hurts sometimes. Like a crippling pain that spreads through my chest and heart and I have to pause to recover from the alarm. Titania suspects something already and I had to confide in my friend Minerva for fear of breaking apart with this feeling.”

  “I understand why you had to seek Minerva’s confidence. If I had not just recently found an advisor in my valet Erasmus, I would be bursting at the seams by now. Thus he is elevated from the position of servant to that of tutor. He advised my uncle, the great Caradoc Vreichvras in much the same way when he was a youth at Avalon.”

  “Rhys, I am intrigued by all this. Would you please tell me more about your family?”

  Rhys got up and walked to the water’s edge. He took a deep breath and turned to look at her face again.

  “Where do I begin?” He paused for a little.

  “At the beginning of course, silly boy,” she quipped, laughing.

  “All right then,” he started. “My mother’s family comes from Burgundy, or Bourgogne, in France. In truth, they were from Narbonne but that may not be entirely important to the story. My mother is Mucuruna Cecilia of Gascoigne; her mother was Caretena Agrippina de Narbonne. Her stepsister is the great Chlotilde, the Holy Princess of Burgundy. She had two other step siblings, Chroma of Burgundy and a brother named Willibald, who became King of Burgundy. Her father was Caretena’s first husband, Ranfild Aurelius, Duke of Gascoigne. After Ranfild died, Flavius, Caretena’s father, sent her to the Burgundian court as a lady in waiting to Queen Hrothildis of the Visigoths. There she met the prince, Chilperic, and they fell in love and married.

  “My mother was brought to court to live as the royal couple’s own child and eventually her sisters and brother arrived to fill the house. My mother had four step uncles and each ruled a borough within the Burgundian lands with the eldest, Chilperic the King, ruling them all as a council. The youngest brother, Gundobad, was dissatisfied with the fact that his chances to be king, if left to the line of succession, were very thin as forth in line to the throne. He plotted to murder his brothers. His plans were successful and after the murders of Chilperic and his brothers, Caretena and her children were removed from the court by Gundobad, the usurper, and placed in exile. Her daughters’ husbands rescued them all from the keep in Geneva. My aunts remained with their husbands while my mother and grandmother Caretena went back to Narbonne to live with their relatives.”

  “This is intriguing,” Naida interjected. “But how is it that your mother’s younger sisters were married before she was?”

  “That is an excellent and very important question, Naida. They were the royal bloodline, whereas she was not, so their father’s priority was to place them in ally courts as spouses to the princes of the Franks and the Visigoths. Mucuruna was his step daughter so it was Caretena’s responsibility to arrange her marriage, and she would do it very carefully so as to place her as high as her birthright made possible.”

  Naida nodded to show that she understood Rhys’ explanation.

  “Caretena took my mother to all the social events in an effort for her to be seen by the nobility in Narbonne and it was at one such outing that my mother met my father, Gwallawc, son of Anlawdd and Irelli. They were introduced at a grand ball thrown by his parents to celebrate his eighteenth birthday. Their other sons, Owain, Cedric and Amren were already married. It was an elaborate affair attended by the oldest families in the region; lords, ladies and royalty alike.

  “My father came from good stock, not royalty but certainly a nobleman. Anlawdd was from Britain and the first born son of the prince, Anlawdd Wledig of Dumnonia. However, he was illegitimate and hence could not inherit his father’s throne or title. Nevertheless, his father bestowed every honor and all the riches of a legitimate prince on him. He became an establ
ished land owner and a lord with castles, fields and tenants, but when his father died, he went to Europe to travel and trade and that was when he met Irelli while purchasing wine to trade to Dover.

  “Irelli’s family was one of the founding families of Narbonne, the Melusins. They were a famous family of herbalists and healers and some people thought they were magical. The two courted, were married and then Anlawdd decided to return to Britain and settle his growing family in his lands in the Midlands. The future of the country was going to change soon, as Uther Pendragon was poised to try to unite the clans of Britain as one country under one king. It was said that he wielded Excalibur, the sword of kings. Anlawdd had a lot of family in Britain including four living aunts Goleuddydd, Rieingulid, Igraine the queen and Tywynwedd, his favorite. She is my uncle Caradoc’s mother. He had to lend his support to his aunt’s husband, King Uther. Morgana le Fae is Queen Igraine’s daughter from her first marriage to Gorlois, the Duke of Cornwall; so are Morgause and Elaine. King Arthur is Igraine’s son from her marriage to Uther Pendragon, hence our relation.

  “Anlawdd owned extensive lands with several halls and lodges built of heavy stone, so with four sons who were now all married, it made sense. They all returned to Britain and settled at Kenilwurt, in Worwick’s Shire. My grandmother, Caretena, stayed in France; eventually she returned to court and remarried. Ultimately, she became the mother of Queen Ingoberge of Paris and Queen Inconnu of the Franks during her third marriage.”

  All the while that Rhys was speaking, Naida stared intently at his face. He purposely avoided her gaze to avoid blushing from the attention she was giving him.