Tales From Camelot Series 1: PENDRAGON

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Tales From Camelot Series 1: PENDRAGON Page 4

by Paul Green


  Regan looked at Pelleas in surprise. "How did you know we ... I mean, they ... are refugees?"

  "I hear their conversations as they draw water or pass by. They are careful with the details, but I hear enough. I hear it in their voices and I see it in their eyes. Just ... as I also see it in your eyes."

  "Oh." And with that, Regan turned and began walking away, briskly.

  "You are welcome!" Pelleas grinned.

  "Thank you!" Regan called back without looking.

  Chapter 8

  Regan did, in fact, show up the next day. And the day after. And the day after that. And so it went, day after day, week after week, and month after month.

  Pelleas was always there, as if he had nowhere else to go. Because he really didn't. At least, not until he received word from his brother Ambrosius. Until then, Pelleas was content to bide his time camped out about two miles from the village of refugees. By night he would fish or hunt for food and sleep. By day, he would simply wait for Regan to show, just so he could draw her water from the well.

  Though their conversation rarely went beyond 'hello' and 'thank you' and 'goodbye', Regan's daily appearance at the well had become very predictable, usually around mid-morning.

  Even on rainy days, she would always arrive at the same time. Partly because they were heading into the fall season and rains were becoming more frequent and the weather was turning colder. And yet, Pelleas would always be there by the well, sheltered only by the leaves of nearby trees. Therefore, Regan always came at the same time - even if she didn't need to - just so that Pelleas wouldn't have to wait any longer than necessary in the rain. For Regan figured that if she always came at the same time ... well ... it would be easier on Pelleas.

  And that surprised her more than anything. That she would care. About Pelleas. That she would be concerned ... on any level ... about a ... man. She didn't understand it and it didn't make any sense. They never talked about anything nor did they know anything about each other. They knew no more about each other than the day they first met. Except ... that she always desired to show up on time. Because she figured it would be easier on Pelleas. As if that made any sense.

  It took four long months, but the day finally came ... when Pelleas finally received his first smile.

  "Hello, Pelleas." Regan offered in greeting.

  Pelleas was surprised by the greeting, and that it was even accompanied by a smile; albeit a barely discernible smile. But it was both a greeting and a smile, nonetheless.

  Of course, Regan herself was surprised by her own greeting, for she hadn't planned on it. It just simply ... came out. Nor was she aware that she had even offered a smile.

  But Pelleas noticed. And he noticed that he liked her smile. Enough where, he would be willing to wait another four months for another smile; if that's what it took.

  From that day forward, Regan always then greeted him with a "Hello, Pelleas." Though she was still cautious and careful and didn't offer a smile after that first time. Even though sometimes she wanted to. But at least she was now offering him a greeting.

  But fate had another card up its sleeve. For the weather had begun taking a turn for the worse. It was a month later and it had been raining non-stop, day and night for two weeks. Pelleas was there was usual, of course; as was Regan at her usual appointed time. But on one particular day, when Pelleas came forward to draw her water for her, Regan noticed that his skin was looking a little pale.

  "Pelleas?" Regan asked with concern. "Are you ... becoming ill?"

  Pelleas smiled and shook his head. "I am fine, fair Regan. I am accustomed to much worse than this."

  "You do not look well, Pelleas." Regan replied, accepting her pitcher of water from him. "You should not be out in the rain. Do you have a warm place to stay?"

  Pelleas nodded, but didn't answer.

  "I understand." Regan replied, looking down. "Where you stay ... is your business, not mine. Forgive me for asking."

  Then Pelleas grinned at her. "I shall make you a deal. I shall tell you where I stay, if you tell me where you stay."

  He had only meant it in jest, but Pelleas was surprised to see the look of alarm on her face. Then she shook her head and turned to leave. Pelleas was about to apologize when she said, "Thank you, Pelleas, for drawing my water. Goodbye." And then she briskly walked away.

  "I was only jesting!" Pelleas called out after her.

  But she kept on walking and disappeared around a thatch of trees, heading for home.

  Pelleas sighed and then cursed himself for saying the wrong thing. Then he took off in the opposite direction towards his campsite.

  *** *** ***

  It was the following day, when several remarkable things happened. The first remarkable thing that happened, was that Regan showed up, again. Even though she hadn't planned to. For the thought of Pelleas learning where she lived had indeed unnerved her and frightened her.

  Even though it was a small village, and Pelleas obviously knew the direction in which she always went, anyway. And she knew that it wouldn't be a difficult thing for Pelleas to track her down, should he ever desire to pursue the matter. But she didn't want him to pursue the matter. Nor did she want to reveal to Pelleas where she lived, any more than she wanted to reveal anything else about herself.

  Nevertheless, the rain still continued to pour, and the weather had turned even colder. That next day, when it was her 'appointed' time to show up at the well, the downpour had all but turned into sleet as the temperature had dropped into the 20's.

  But still Regan came at the appointed time, because ... well ... because it would be easier for Pelleas; because she didn't want him to have to wait any longer than necessary. Not to mention that she had been genuinely concerned about his sickly appearance the previous day.

  And so it was, that when Regan arrived at the well holding a sheet over her head, that she discovered the next remarkable thing that happened that day.

  Pelleas wasn't there.

  For the first time in six months, Pelleas wasn't there!

  Then, something else remarkable happened.

  Regan began to worry about Pelleas.

  She had indeed heard him call out that he was only teasing the day before; about finding out where she lived. And even though she was still very uncomfortable with the idea of anyone knowing where she lived, she still worried that perhaps Pelleas was upset that she had just walked away from him as she did.

  It was, after all, rather rude. Wasn't it?

  But then she also began to worry if he was okay. After all, he really didn't look at that well. What if the reason he hadn't shown up was because he was sick?

  What if he was worse than sick?

  What if he was MUCH worse than sick!?

  What if Pelleas was ... dying!?

  Or ... what if wild animals attacked Pelleas during the night!?

  And Regan began imagining all sorts of terrible things that might have happened to Pelleas, and she found herself becoming very worried and very concerned and even ... upset! About what might have happened to poor Pelleas.

  Which then led to the next very remarkable thing that happened that day.

  Regan ... decided to go in search of Pelleas.

  It was remarkable for a variety of reasons and on many different levels; not the least of which the icy cold rain would have deterred almost anyone from going out for a search; let alone ... alone.

  But Regan was not just anyone. For in spite of all she had been through in her young life, she was still strong and self-reliant and independent and determined. Determined enough, to go outside the safety of the village and go looking for Pelleas, even in the midst of terrible weather.

  Of course, she had no idea where he lived or what his living arrangements were. But she suspected he lived nearby, perhaps in a tent. She also knew the general direction in which he would leave the village. So ... with a sheet over her head ... and sleet pouring down from the sky ... Regan took off in the same direction she had seen Pell
eas go in the past.

  *** *** ***

  Fortunately, it was only two miles to Pelleas' campsite.

  If you want to call it that.

  For his campsite consisted of nothing more than a small fire pit, a rope attached to a nearby tree upon which hung tunics and undergarments and socks, and ... not really even a tent.

  It was more like a lean-to; a single slanted tarp of heavy canvas, propped up at an angle by two tree branches. While it certainly afforded Pelleas good vision in nearly all directions, it was hardly enough to protect him from the elements. Especially when the rain and sleet was driving sideways.

  And Pelleas was there, lying beneath the slanted tarp. And fully exposed to the horrendous weather. He appeared to be either asleep ... or unconscious.

  Regan gasped as she ran forward and dropped to her knees beside his body. And it was just as she had feared; even more so. Pelleas was MUCH worse than sick. His body was a ghostly white and ice cold, yet at the same time his forehead felt like it was on fire. Pelleas looked to be near death.

  Regan quickly debated her three choices: stay with him and try to keep him warm; run back to the village for help; or drag him back to the village and to her home.

  She chose the last option. For she believed he would need a more than mere body-warmth if he was to survive, and he would need it for an extended period of time. Regan wasn't sure who she could ask for this kind of help; certainly not Alger and Ceola, for they were much too elderly and feeble to help get him home; especially in that kind of weather. Regan's only remaining choice was to wrap Pelleas up in the lean-to tarp and, quite literally, drag him back to the village.

  Fortunately it was only two miles. But for a young girl to drag a body for two miles in the cold rain and sleet was yet another remarkable feat. Nevertheless, she made the trip in under an hour, and finally brought Pelleas to her home.

  Chapter 9

  Three days later

  Pelleas awoke to morning sunshine.

  And ... to a beautiful and angelic face.

  Regan was sitting on the bed beside him, giving him a look that was an mixture of both relief and anger. And the look in her eyes kept alternating between the two.

  He tried to speak, but found that he couldn't; for his sickness had taken his voice away for a time. He also felt extremely weak and dizzy and every inch of his body was racked in painful agony. And yet ... Pelleas managed a smile.

  Regan crossed her arms and scowled at him.

  Pelleas thought she never looked more beautiful.

  Which was partly true, because for the last three days, Regan hadn't been focused on making herself look ... 'unbeautiful'. Instead, for once, she really looked as she really looked. And Pelleas found himself greatly appreciative for how she really looked. She was even prettier than he had imagined she might be. And he had imagined her a lot.

  "You are fortunate to be alive." she scolded with a hint of anger.

  Pelleas pointed at his throat and shook his head, indicating that he couldn't speak.

  "Good." Regan said, rising to her feet. "I am glad you cannot speak. You deserve much worse for being so foolish. I should have left you where I found you. Perhaps this shall teach you a lesson for the next time. But know this, Pelleas; if there is a next time? I shall not come looking for you, again. I shall leave your body for the scavengers."

  With as much strength as he could muster, Pelleas offered her a sheepish grin and weakly motioned with his hand for her to come closer.

  "What, you wish to say something to me? I do not think I care to hear anything you have to say. I am most put out with you, Pelleas."

  Still managing a slight smile, Pelleas continued motioned with his hand for her to come closer.

  Finally she sighed and relented, and leaned over closer to his face so he could attempt to whisper to her.

  But Pelleas motioned with his hand for her to come even closer.

  And she did so, tilting her ear to within inches of his mouth.

  And then the most remarkable thing of all happened.

  Pelleas reached up and turned her face towards him ... and kissed her.

  Chapter 10

  Regan was stunned.

  Instantly she leaped to her feet and began backing away with her hand pressed against her mouth as if she had just been bitten by a serpent.

  She had no words. She was simply ... stunned. Regan didn't know how to react or what to say or do.

  On one hand, she felt like slapping him. But ... in those days, women didn't slap men; it was the other way around.

  On the other hand ... well ... she really couldn't understand the 'other hand'. It was a very strange and unexplainable feeling; once that she certainly had no understanding of.

  Regan was honestly ... truly ... positively ... stunned; and at a complete loss for words.

  She looked at Pelleas in shock ... who simply lay on his bed, sickly and barely able to move and completely unable to speak ... and yet, he had a ridiculous grin on his face.

  And then his reaction? He simply shrugged, as if to say 'Sorry, but it's not like I could've helped myself or anything.'

  And that's when the most starling revelation of all finally hit Regan. Pelleas ... liked her.

  A lot.

  And of course, then there was the other side of the stunning and revelatory coin. And likewise, it also fell upon Regan like a ton of bricks.

  She ... liked Pelleas.

  How much? Regan didn't know. Why? Regan didn't know. How it happened? Regan didn't know. When did it happen? Regan didn't know. All she knew was, for the first time in her young life, Regan liked ... a man.

  And the revelation frightened her. It was something she never dreamed would ever be possible. For the only experience she had ever had with a man, was with a monster by the name of Gorlois.

  It had now been one year since she had given birth to her second daughter. And one year since Gorlois had beaten her and left her for dead. And it had been one year since Regan had been cast out and banished from the region of Cornwall.

  Regan had only been twelve years old when Gorlois had essentially 'abducted' her and forced her to become his wife against her will. She had borne her first daughter at age 13, and her second daughter at age 14.

  Regan was now 15 years old. Though she had been a wife and had already borne two children, she was still very, very young, and had no experience or knowledge of such things, as love or affection and most certainly not romance. They were all foreign concepts to her. Of course, she had seen such things exhibited in her home and in the town in which she had grown up in. Her own parents seemed to have had a great deal of affection for each other.

  But as for her, personally? This ... was a first.

  And since Regan had no idea how to respond, she responding in the only way she knew how.

  She ignored it. As if nothing had happened.

  Alger and Ceola happened to be out for one of their daily walks; actually, their first walk in over two weeks because of the rains. So Regan somehow managed to collect herself and announced to Pelleas she was going to warm up some soup.

  Without waiting for a response, Regan disappeared out of the room towards the cooking area. By the time she returned, Pelleas had fallen back asleep.

  *** *** ***

  It was the middle of the night when Pelleas finally re-awoke. And though everyone else in the house was asleep, he was wide awake. And surprisingly, hungry. He was actually feeling much better.

  Beside his bed was a small table, and upon the table was a bowl of fruit. Pelleas noticed right away that his fever was completely gone and he was feeling well enough to sit up. As he did so, he grabbed the bowl of fruit and quickly devoured two bananas and two apples and two pears.

  Then ... surprisingly, Pelleas found he was still very hungry. He wasn't exactly sure where he was, but he assumed he was in Regan's home. Not wanting to wake anyone up, and feeling fairly sure and confident of himself, Pelleas decided he might attempt to get up out
of bed and perhaps find some more fruit in their pantry; wherever that was.

  Just as he turned and swung his legs around and over the side of the bed, he heard a voice. It came from the floor.

  "What do you think you are doing?" Regan asked.

  Surprised, Pelleas tried to speak, but found he still hadn't a voice. But he was able to at least manage a raspy but painful whisper.

  "Regan? Is that you?"

  "Yes, Pelleas. This is where I sleep. This is a small house and there are only two rooms. The other room belongs to Alger and Ceola."

  "You ... have been sleeping ... by my side?"

  "I believe I have already answered you. I repeat my question: where do you think you are going?"

  "I ... feel better. I ... have hunger."

  Regan sat up in surprise. "Really? That is ... that is good! I heard you eating the fruit I had left for you. Did you eat all of it?"

  "Thank you ... Regan. For ... taking care ... of me. Yes. I am still ... hungry."

  Regan quickly rose to her feet. "Stay here. You should not be walking around, yet. I will bring you something to eat."

  "Regan?"

  "Yes, Pelleas?"

  "I am sorry."

  "Huh? What? Sorry for what?"

  "I should not ... have kissed you."

  "Uh ... oh."

  "I ... wanted to. But ... I probably should not have done that. Uh ... right?"

  "I will ... go and get you something to eat." And before Pelleas could respond, Regan quickly darted out of the room.

  *** *** ***

  Nearly ten minutes had passed and Pelleas was beginning to wonder where Regan was. He didn't think that assembling a bowl of fruit would take that long. Plus ... he was tired of laying in bed and really wanted to try and stand. So ... he did.

 

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