by T J Mayhew
Logan stared up at him. “I guess so,” he muttered, grinning. “Now are you gonna point that thing somewhere else so I can get up?” he demanded, nodding warily at Excalibur.
Cai obliged, as he stepped back and sheathed his weapon. As Logan retrieved his sword, Cai scanned the crowd of awestruck faces noting, with some disappointment, that the one face he wanted to see most, had vanished. He didn’t have time to ponder Aelwen’s disappearance for long as Logan soon appeared at his side. “That was clever, manoeuvring me like that; nice touch,” he commented with a grin.
Cai felt a swell of pride before recalling Logan’s behaviour in the battle. “Unlike you,” he muttered.
A look of genuine surprise registered on Logan’s face as he frowned. “What did I do?”
Cai scoffed good-naturedly. “Like you don’t know.” Seeing the confusion on Logan’s face, he elaborated. “Running at me when I wasn’t ready? That was a dirty trick.”
Logan laughed. “Oh, that.” He paused before continuing, “Well, in my defence, I was teaching you a valuable lesson: never take your eye off the ball. An enemy will never wait for you to be ready,” he stated firmly. “An opponent will look for any opportunity to take the advantage, or have you already forgotten what Kay taught you?”
Cai remained silent; it wasn’t that he’d forgotten, it was just… for whatever reason, he had momentarily been distracted by Aelwen’s presence. He shook himself, determined to cast it from his mind.
He knew one thing for sure: he couldn’t afford to let it happen again.
11
The following day dawned cold and damp and the mood in the camp reflected this; gone was the jovial camaraderie of the previous night, replaced with a sullen atmosphere in which conversation was sparse and everyone was focused on the tasks in hand.
Cai knew it would only take two days to reach Camelot but then what? What plan did they have for the coming weeks, months, years…? Unfortunately, Cai already knew the answer: nothing. They had no plans in place and it galled him to admit it, even to himself.
“Cai, we must leave.”
Cai turned to Merlin, noting the majority of men were set to leave.
Sighing, Cai cast one final look down the road alongside which they had made camp, but it was empty. That morning he had woken up, determined to delay their departure for as long as possible in the hope that a few villagers may have changed their mind and decided to join them but that didn’t look likely now; he had given them all the time he could but they had to leave.
Pulling himself into his saddle, he turned to face his men; it was only right to speak to them, to keep them informed of what was happening.
But before he had even taken a breath, a gruff shout drew everyone’s attention to the west side of the camp where a commotion had broken out amongst the men. Instantly, Cai was surrounded by Merlin, Bedivere and Galahad, all stood poised to protect him. Beside him, Logan moved closer, his own sword drawn, eyes searching for any threat.
Cai rose in his stirrups, eager to see what was going on; more men joined the fray making it difficult for him to distinguish one man from another.
“This is ridiculous!” Bedivere spat. “Don’t we have enough to worry about, without fighting amongst ourselves?” He stepped forward, ready to intervene but before he could reach the men, Cai saw something, or rather someone, he recognised.
“Stop!” he cried, fighting to control Rei, who, sensing Cai’s desperation, was becoming anxious.
Galahad looked up. “My Lord, it’s not wise…” he began before being forced to step away from Cai’s horse as it kicked hard at the ground.
Cai ignored him, his attention fixed on the skirmish ahead. “I said, stop!” he repeated, raising his voice to be heard above the ruckus.
Dismounting, Cai hurried over to the man now lying on the ground, his eyes darting frantically back and forth between the men standing over him. As he reached him, his suspicions were proved right; at his feet was the man who had challenged his father the day before.
A wave of relief washed over Cai as he realised those extra few minutes he had allowed had proved fruitful. Glancing around, he became aware of three other men from the village, also being held captive; he looked at each in turn, noting their furious expressions.
Before he could say anything, the man on the ground spoke. “My Lord, we are not too late?” he asked hopefully.
Cai looked down at him. “No, of course not…” He turned to his men. “Let them go,” he ordered. His men looked uneasy at the idea. “I said, let them go,” Cai repeated, his voice firm.
The men obeyed, but kept a watchful eye on the newcomers.
Cautiously rising to his feet, the man said, “My name is Bran, my Lord.” Gesturing towards the men with him, he continued, “We wish to join you… if you will still have us, that is.”
Cai’s face broke into a grin. “Of course we will!” he declared. He had hoped for more but four was certainly better than none; after all, they were strong, used to fighting and would do whatever it took to survive but, the reality was hard to ignore: each man carried one weapon, a shield and little else. Only two of them wore padded leather jerkins, scant protection against the blade of a sword, but better than nothing.
Noting the response of those around them, another of the men stepped forward; he was older than Bran and had an air of authority. His tousled, dark hair fell to his shoulders and a jagged scar ran the length of his face; it was clear this man had participated in his fair share of battles. “We may look ill-equipped,” he began earnestly. “But let me assure you, we know how to fight. And we bring much needed skills,” he added. “Skills highly prized in times of war.”
“Such as?” Cai asked, intrigued.
The man indicated himself. “I am a blacksmith,” he declared. “Bran, here, is my apprentice.”
“And what’s your name?” Cai asked.
The man bowed his head; it was clear that, although he was willing to argue for himself and his friends, he still respected Cai as his king. “Haydn, my Lord.” He looked up, taking Cai’s silence as a cue to continue. Stepping closer to a short, stout man with a full black beard, he continued, “This is Oswald and that…” He gestured to the fourth man in the group, “Is Edric.” Both men bowed their heads respectfully.
“We came to swear fealty to you, my Lord,” Bran said.
“Before we were attacked…” Edric added, bitterly, glaring at his captor.
“You crept into our camp!” the man responded, indignantly.
Edric glared at him but Haydn placed a hand on his shoulder to avoid any further confrontation.
Cai glanced at his men awkwardly. “Sorry; as you can appreciate… we’re all wary of unexpected visitors.” He noted the men sizing each other up and hoped they could all find a way back from this. “We were just about to leave… Do you have horses?” he asked, hoping the men had left them on the roadside or hidden them out of sight.
“Not with us,” Bran replied. “They were being loaded and hitched when we were sent on ahead.”
Cai could barely contain his excitement; he thought he had failed to convince them, he was obviously wrong.
“After you left,” Bran continued, “a few of us got together and convinced others it would be foolish to stay. Eventually, a vote was taken; most voted to join you.”
On hearing this, Cai realised that he hadn’t been as ineffective as he had, at first, thought; it seemed he had got through to some of them, albeit, with some help from Bran. He smiled, and turning to all, declared, “The rest are coming!” A cheer rose up from the crowd. “We will wait for them.”
As Cai watched everyone dismount and begin to relax, his eyes met Aelwen’s. She smiled at him but he quickly looked away, recalling the promise he had made to himself the previous night. He returned to his horse where Merlin was waiting.
“You handled that well,” Merlin informed him as they secured their horses to a tree.
“Did I?” Cai asked, unconv
inced.
Merlin nodded. “You did. The men listened and responded to you; they clearly respect you.”
Cai had to admit it felt good to hear these words, especially as he had instinctively reacted to a situation that could easily have spun out of control. “It feels strange to be ordering men about,” he confided.
Merlin smiled. “This is still new to you, Cai; it will be a while before you feel truly comfortable.”
Cai acknowledged the truth of his words; he knew it would be a long road but, perhaps, at last, he was beginning to find his feet…
12
Thankfully, they hadn’t waited too long before being joined by the villagers and, after a rest, they were soon on their way.
The journey back to Camelot seemed to take forever and Cai knew the reason: he was desperate to return. He needed to see those he had left behind, so long ago: Lancelot, Gawain… even Kay. But foremost in his thoughts was his mother; he had a picture in his head of her smiling at him, her dark hair framing her face, eagerly awaiting his return. He knew she had waited every day since he had left and, he now realised, she had no idea they were so close.
By mid-morning of the second day, Cai began to recognise the familiar landscape that led home. Smiling to himself, he turned to Galahad and gave the order for him to ride on ahead to alert Camelot of their imminent arrival.
As he watched the knight disappear into the distance, he suddenly felt apprehensive; would the reunion with his mother be awkward and strained or, as he hoped, easy? Memories of their first meeting flashed through his mind; how they could only stare at each other, too afraid to speak, terrified they would be rejected by the other. A cold, inexplicable fear gripped him; would it be like that again? Would they be strangers once more?
Cai felt sick at the thought; he didn’t know if he could handle that again. It had taken them so long to build a relationship… he couldn’t face it if all their efforts had been in vain.
“It’s good to be back, isn’t it?” Bedivere asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Cai nodded absentmindedly, his gaze fixed ahead as he saw Camelot for the first time in weeks. At the sight of it, a feeling of peace washed over him: he was home.
As he guided Rei into the Lower Courtyard, Cai looked around, realising just how much he had missed this place. Servants converged to take the horses as the newcomers filed in, rapidly filling the courtyard; it was soon bustling and filled with noise as everyone started talking at once, asking questions, trying to make sense of their new lives.
As he dismounted, Cai saw Bran and Haydn talking to a servant; close by, he noticed Aelwen standing next to her father, silently surveying the activity around her; Nimue greeted Merlin and Cai couldn’t ignore how the older man was unable to keep his eyes from her. Cai felt a hand on his shoulder; he turned to find Bedivere standing next to him.
The knight smiled. “Go, Cai; we will deal with this.”
“But…” Cai began to protest; he desperately wanted to find Guinevere but he should be here to help… shouldn’t he?
Bedivere shook his head. “You have waited long enough to return; now you’re here, do not waste another moment. I believe someone may be waiting for you.”
Cai looked at him before breaking into a grin. Turning, he made his way through the crowd to the stairs leading to the Upper Courtyard…
He stopped as he saw Lancelot, Kay, Gawain and… Guinevere waiting for him. As his gaze landed on his mother, his heart soared as their eyes met and the short distance between them seemed to disappear. His earlier fears vanished as he realised that, no matter how much time they spent apart, nothing would ever change between them.
Closing the distance between them, they embraced for the first time in weeks; no words were spoken, none were necessary.
Cai couldn’t help but smile as Guinevere held his face in her hands. She gazed down at him, her eyes shining.
“I have long awaited this moment, Cai,” she whispered as she looked intently at him.
Cai’s smile faltered at her words and he tried to ignore the lump in his throat. “It’s so good to see you again,” he said earnestly, not caring who overheard. He was home; he was back with his mother… nothing else mattered.
Guinevere pulled him into her arms again. “Every day I have prayed for your safe return and now you are here with me, once more,” she murmured. She leant forward and kissed his cheek; Cai felt himself blush at the unexpected display of affection.
Thankfully, Lancelot picked that moment to step forward, gazing in wonder at the crowds. “You have surpassed our hopes, Cai,” he said.
Cai shook his head, unwilling to accept his compliment. “It wasn’t just me,” he began.
Lancelot looked at him thoughtfully. “I think you did more than you know.”
“You have done well,” Kay acknowledged as he came to stand beside Lancelot.
Cai could only stare at him; was that a compliment… from Kay, of all people? The unexpected praise caught Cai off guard and he found himself, momentarily, speechless.
Kay continued, seemingly oblivious to Cai’s shock. “They look like they will make worthy warriors,” he said appreciatively.
“They will,” Cai agreed, finally finding his voice; it was important to him that their worth was recognised. “We also have skilled craftsmen amongst them and everyone is willing to do whatever it takes to find Morgan and Mordred.”
Kay studied him for a moment. “That’s good to hear,” he muttered before turning and making his way over to Bedivere and Galahad.
“Call a meeting,” Lancelot said. “We need to discuss our next move.” Cai nodded in agreement as the knight surveyed the scene before him. “We shall find lodgings for everyone then we shall meet,” he announced. Glancing at Cai, he added, “Leave this to us, Cai; go, spend time with your mother.” He smiled fondly at Guinevere. “I know how deeply you have been missed.”
Cai hesitated; although he had missed Guinevere, he knew he had a duty to these people, a duty that compelled him to stay, to see them all settled in. They were his people and he needed to finish this journey with them.
Sensing his inner turmoil, Guinevere placed a hand on his shoulder. “Cai, you should stay here,” she said, making the decision for him. “These people need to see you care. We shall speak later.”
Cai looked at her, unable to believe she could so easily read his mind and understand his feelings. He saw the disappointment and sadness in her eyes but there was also something else: acceptance. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, knowing this hurt her and hating himself for it.
Guinevere lifted his chin so he could meet her gaze. “Do not worry yourself,” she said. “Your father was just the same.” She smiled fondly. “I’m glad you wish to stay; it only confirms to me that you are your father’s son.”
Cai smiled, relieved she understood.
“There shall be plenty of time for us to talk,” she continued. She kissed his cheek once more before stepping aside as he re-joined his knights.
As Cai returned to the throng, he caught sight of Aelwen’s anguished, tear-stained face across the courtyard and he couldn’t help but stare; the raw emotion evident on her face broke his heart and he could only watch helplessly as she turned from him, disappearing into the crowd.
“We must think of the road ahead of us,” Lancelot announced. He paused, before adding, “Every day, they grow stronger…”
At these words, the atmosphere in the chamber changed and the mood darkened; everyone knew the truth of his words.
Bedivere was the first to speak. “Our ranks are stronger now; the men we have are all willing, and able, to fight. We shall work with them, hone their skills, prepare them for what lies ahead.”
A murmur of agreement rose around the table.
“These men are committed to our cause,” Galahad agreed, picking up where Bedivere had left off. “Half the battle is won; training them will not be a hardship.”
Cai nodded, allowing his mind to wander as he t
hought of Badden, Owain and the others; Galahad was right: they were committed and these knights knew what they were doing; preparing for battles was second nature to them and he intended to be as involved as possible, to learn as much as he could before confronting Mordred and Morgan.
“So, we’ll start their training tomorrow,” Cai announced, determined to get things moving as soon as possible.
Lancelot nodded. “I think that is wise,” he agreed.
During the discussion that followed, training schedules were agreed: each knight would take a group who they would mentor and, later, fight alongside in battle. It was also agreed that Cai and Logan would continue their training along with them. Just as before, Cai found himself working alongside Kay but, this time, instead of arguing the point, Kay accepted the decision quietly; in fact, if Cai hadn’t been mistaken, the knight even offered him a nod of approval. Could it be the knight was finally willing to accept him?
“Before we depart,” Lancelot began, turning his attention to Cai. “When you left, I promised you would return to a feast, in celebration of your homecoming.”
Cai’s heart sank; he had completely forgotten this.
“I think we should have it the day after tomorrow,” he announced.
Cai stared at him; Lancelot’s tone was final and it was clear he didn’t expect any arguments but, Cai felt very differently. “Um…” he began hesitantly. “I don’t think it’s such a good idea. I mean, we have so much to do…”
“That’s exactly why we should have it,” Lancelot pointed out. “You have travelled far and wide, Cai; you have saved people’s lives by bringing them here; you have swelled our ranks; you have Excalibur… You are our King and you give us reason to hope again. It is right these things are celebrated.”