Chapter 3 [Hunith's Hut—A Half Turn of the Hourglass Later]

Percival set the last armful of wood on the woodpile. He'd spent the morning doing odd chores for Hunith rather than wait around for word on the others. He'd repaired some loose shingles on the roof. He'd stacked some firewood. He walked with her to the village's oven to bake a small loaf of grain bread. He wanted to keep from thinking about everything else. He wanted to forget for a brief time at least about Camelot. He hoped Gaius could think of something to help the others. Even if he didn't say anything to the others, he missed Blancheflor.

Blancheflor….

Lament burned in his heart. Since he'd met Arthur and the other knights, he'd maintained a happy façade. Despite any and all circumstances, he endeavored to smile and have a positive outlook. He supported those around himself. He served even beyond what should have been his normal endurance. If he ached, he did more. If he felt at the end of his rope, he'd climb three hand holds higher.

Because he promised her he would….

He bowed his head. They sent missives back and forth between Camelot and Richmont. He'd meant to request a leave to make the day's ride back home. Despite everything, he'd visited with her every day in his thoughts. Often Nightmare disturbed him in his sleep fearing that Meleagant or some other invader would harm or kidnap her. Duty, while compelling him to stay at Arthur's side, tugged him back to her too.

She would understand especially under these circumstances! She has to! He exhaled sharply. Then he saw his hostess watching expectantly from the door. "Is there something else I can do?"

"Sir Percival, you deserve a break." Hunith held a cup to his eyes. "Perhaps some water? Then we can fetch the bread?"

He nodded. He accepted the cup and took a single swallow. "Have the others had their share?"

"They have." Hunith's mouth sagged into a frown. "Merlin is still asleep. Gaius and I were looking at his wounds. What attacked him? Gaius won't say."

"A large demon attacked them. I collected herbs a distance away when I heard them call out. Gawain and King Arthur had their own situation. Still we returned to the camp to help as best we could," He edited out any mention of Kilgarrah or Malodius. He still had trouble believing in such magical creatures' existence much less helping them all. "I don't understand how Morgana could have magic and be in Camelot much less use it."

I wonder how he'd feel about Merlin? What if he and the others ever realize that he's a sorcerer as well? Irony tempted her to answer just that question. Sense, on the other hand, reminded her to keep that counsel to herself. "Morgana fought hand to hand here. She didn't have magic the last time."

"When was that?" He looked at her. Everything he'd heard about the priestess concerned dark magic and sorcery. Very little had reached his ears about Morgana's early years or the girl she'd been before Morgause's influence. What else is there? Curiosity prodded him to know more.

"Several winters ago…a decade's worth of winters, I believe." She slumped her shoulders. "Morgana was a loyal friend. She and Guinevere volunteered to accompany Merlin here to help us against bandits. Prince…now King Arthur…led that effort. She fought bravely for our village. She helped to sharpen blades and did everything else that could be expected. What a pity. I wish I knew what happened to make her like this."

"I don't know, Hunith. I wish I could make it right. It would be better for Camelot," he told her. He sat down on the woodpile and scratched his head. All we've heard is that magic is evil. Magic is horrible. Yet didn't that priestess help us on our way? How do we know there aren't good sorcerers out there? He looked at the distaff still leaning by the door from earlier. Isn't it like a sword or any other weapon? I have to wonder.

"I wish so too." She made a mental note to speak to Merlin at some point. Then her ears perked at the sound of approaching riders. "Sir Percival, do you hear….?"

"Aye." He sprang to his feet and drew his sword. "Stay behind me, Hunith." His eyes narrowed. His mind shelved the magic debate for the time being. He heard the clopping of running horses. Alerts from villagers reached his ears. "Gawain!"

"The Princess and I…HEE HAW…can't fight…ERR…HAW," Gawain replied. He leaned heavily on an oak branch so as to stay upright.

"Princess?" Hunith didn't get the gist.

Percival rolled his eyes. "He means the King." He frowned. "Both of you get back inside! I'll do what I can!" Then he spied the emerald standard with the dark bird flying across its expanse. "Nemeth? What would….?"

"Nemeth?" Her eyes went wide. "Do they mean to invade?"

"Nay. They are allies." Percival sheathed his sword. He waved to the approaching riding party. His eyes went wide when he saw the leader. "Princess Mithian? Not that I'm sorry to see you but…." Reverence prompted a quick bow from him.

Mithian nodded. "We heard of Camelot's peril. I lead this expedition with King Rodor's blessing. We do not forget our friends, Sir Percival."

"Excuse me, Lady? You heard in another kingdom? How would you….?" Hunith warily looked the riding party over. She clearly noted several knights. Toward the back, she spied a familiar face. "Gwen? Is that you?"

"It is. I discovered Morgana's plot and found help." Gwen smiled. She dismounted quickly. "Where's Arthur?"

"He's right inside, Gwen." Percival informed her. He embraced her. "Good to see you."

"And you, Percival. I think though there's someone waiting for you though." Gwen grinned. She motioned toward the riders in back of her. "Without her, I never would have made it to Whitgate."

"Without her? I…." Percival follow Gwen's prompting. His eyes widened. He nearly dropped his sword. His heart skipped a beat. "Blancheflor?"

"As Princess Mithian asked, do you think I wouldn't help? Of course!" Blancheflor insisted. Tears misted in her eyes. "Help me down please?"

"What? Of course!" Percival bowed again to Mithian. "With your pardon."

Mithian arched an eyebrow. "Go on, Sir Percival. She has waited patiently for you. I would not keep you apart any longer."

"Thank you!" Percival hustled toward the back of the contingent. His eyes passed over several other knights. Still he only saw his heart's desire awaiting him. He held his hand out. "I'm ready."

"So you are," Blancheflor teased. She grasped the helping hand. Allowing it to guide her, she dismounted from horseback. Within a heartbeat, she found herself within the safe harbor of his arms. Her eyes twinkled at him. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too." Percival kissed her cheek. "I know it's been too long. I'm sorry."

"I told you to do your duty. Gwen told me how busy King Arthur's kept you and the other knights. I understand," She touched her forehead to his. "You do yours. I do mine, my Loyal Knight. Life is as we've known. I protect Riversmore and insure everything is as it should be. You, by serving King Arthur, insure that all is safe beyond our borders. One day, we will be together."

"Aye, my Lady." Percival kissed the back of her hand. "We shall. Come. I can introduce you to the others." He escorted her back toward the door. "Sir Galahad, welcome!" He clasped arms with the other knight. "Is Sir Ywain with you?"

"Aye. Princess Mithian sent him to scout the woods. I believe his beast keeps watch there," Galahad reported.

Percival frowned. "If you mean the lion, he killed the cat demon in the woods. Truly we owe him our thanks."

"We all serve our allies and friends," Mithian interjected. Her mind wandered. She felt Merlin's sleeping mind close by. "Speaking of which, where are they, Sir Percival?"

"They're in there." Percival motioned with his head toward the open door. "Gaius sees to them. This woman is Hunith. She's Merlin's mother."

Mithian froze. Anxiety flared within her. Despite being the Princess, being in Hunith's presence prompted Insecurity's chills and butterflies. She trembled ever so slightly. Still she composed herself. "Thank you for allowing them to stay."

"It's my pleasure of course." Hunith curtseyed in deference to Mithian's rank. She noted however the latter's anxious reaction. What is that about? Certainly this isn't the first village they've been in. She's dealt with peasants and nobles. She puzzled over that notion. "Has Merlin provided you with service, Princess?"

"He most certainly did. You should be proud of his accomplishments, Hunith. Very proud indeed." Mithian smiled. Pride sent her emotions soaring. "Have you seen him? Merlin?"

"He's…sleeping inside." Hunith took a second look at Mithian. Under the pomp and pageantry, she could clear see Worry and Fear carving lines into the Princess' face. She'd heard enough girls speak with such tones to know that Mithian was there for more than just a state visit or support for Arthur. She cares for him? "Gaius tends to him. He had a hard night apparently."

Mithian cleared her throat to keep herself composed. I wonder what she'd think if she knew of the connection between Merlin and me? "Yes we were told as much. Given the circumstances, we rode here as quickly as we could manage." She noted the villagers' frightened and angered looks toward the knights. Despite the fact that we need them here, this is still Cedric's territory. "Sir Galahad, pull our knights back to the forest's edge. We're not here to occupy but to offer aid."

Galahad kept a straight face. He understood her instructions from political and diplomatic viewpoints. As with Mithian, he knew that Cedric longed for an opportunity to create a diplomatic incident. He wished that they'd have the chance to get permission to cross into Essetir. As such, Discretion trumped all other things. Still without the knights there, she'd be vulnerable. "We will camp in the forest just out of view. If you have need, we can be here."

"Very good. Thank you, Sir Galahad. I don't want any issues with Cedric. Morgana is proving difficult enough. Hopefully we can resolve this matter soon enough," Mithian complimented.

Galahad climbed back on his horse. He exchanged anxious looks with Blancheflor and Gwen before riding off toward the south. With a wave of his hand, he led the other knights in that direction.

Gwen tapped on her horse's saddle. Impatience chafed at her. She allowed her horse to canter over toward Percival and Blancheflor. "Is Arthur in there too?"

Percival squirmed. He could well imagine Arthur's public protestations to Gwen's presence (even if he felt the exact opposite). He anticipated her reaction to the King's appearance. "He is. Gwen, perhaps you might want to take a minute."

Gwen stiffened. She eyed Percival warily. "And why?"

At that moment, Gawain staggered through the door. Instinct coerced him to try walking on all fours. The nun's costume pulled at him. In certain places, he'd torn it.

"You dress a donkey like a Nazarene recluse?" Blancheflor asked.

"Nah. That….HEE HAW…was Merlin's idea to get by that hag. ERMM! HAW! This rots!" Gawain complained. His hooves clomped.

"Maybe you might think twice before challenging Morgana next time?" Percival suggested.

"Laugh it…HAW…up, Percy. At least this can't get….HEE HAW…worse," Gawain retorted. Then he noticed Britomart coughing from horseback. "Great."

"What did you do now?" Britomart demanded. Exasperation showed clearly across her face. She threw her hands up. She quickly dismounted. "You just had to get that witch angry. Didn't you?"

"HEY! I wasn't going….HEE HAW…let her get the last word! Wench cast spell…ERMM…HEE HAW on Arthur and me," Gawain gasped. By now, forming words increasing hurt his throat and vocal cords. "Ask Gwen. I'm…not lost cause. HEE HAW!"

"Arthur's like that too?" Gwen panicked. Her eyes went wide. She rushed into the dwelling. She looked around frantically. "Gaius?"

"Gwen! What are you doing here?" Gaius got up from the table. He ambled over to her side.

"I rode here with Princess Mithian and Nemeth's knights. Where's Arthur? And…." Gwen stopped her explanation in its tracks. Her heart dropped in her chest at the sight of the donkey sulking in the corner. As with Gawain, she saw the dark robes still hanging askew about him. "Arthur?"

Arthur's ears perked through the headdress. He raised his head. "G…Gwen?" He staggered to his hooves nearly tripping on the robes. "That…idiot…HEE HAW…If he weren't already almost…dead….ERMMM! He drugged me! HAW….Put me in this dress like a girl!" His hooves snagged in the materials sending him sprawling to the ground. Steam fumed from his ears. Embarrassment ate at his ego.

Bewilderment clouded her thinking momentarily. She wondered what to do. "Gawain said Morgana did this to you?"

"Gawain shot his mouth off. HEE HAW! She made…us this! ERMM!" Arthur continued. "Stupid!"

Gwen folded her arms across her chest. Satisfaction blossomed inside of herself. While his pain cut at her heart, she wanted him to understand Humiliation's sting. However as soon as the urge appeared, Amor doused it rapidly. "Arthur, we've all had our moments. I'm sure Merlin had a reason for doing what he did."

"You…like this," Arthur accused.

"Do I like you suffering? Of course not. Maybe you get an idea of how it feels to be exiled and pull a wagon in front of everyone through the countryside? Perhaps. Arthur, do you have any idea what I've been through? Do you understand? Morgana is behind all of this! She raised Lancelot from the dead. She enchanted me. Agravaine arranged for me to be caught. She turned you into the donkey. She schemed to push me away and bring Princess Mithian into the picture. She's wrecking our home! She's hurting our friends! And all because you are being the idiot now! You, Arthur!" she lectured.

"I do have my reputation and…." Arthur defended.

"It's not like I freely cuckolded you! I WAS ENCHANTED, ARTHUR! So have you! So have Merlin and Gaius! Please!" Tears shimmered in her eyes. Woe's streams ran down her cheeks. "I LOVE YOU!" Before he could protest, she pressed her lips against his mouth. She ignored the bad smell and taste. She pressed the kiss there. She poured Love's favor into him.

A brilliant white glow surrounded him. He shuddered and spasmed. Stings like those of an angry hive of bees pricked his skin and burned. His throat loosened. His fingers spread and moved of their own individual accord. His hair reverted to its normal blonde shade and receded toward its normal length.

Wonder raised questions in her mind. She didn't understand how she'd prompted such a transformation. Needless to say, she didn't care. Her King was back to normal. "Arthur!"

"I'm back." He stood slowly allowing his legs to regain their balance. He stretched his arms and torso. "Hopefully someone has some real clothes for me?"

"Perhaps. I think you make an interesting recluse," she teased.

He bowed his head. He recalled expressing that very sentiment in his chambers after the failed engagement. "The court and kingdom would never allow me that luxury, I fear." He considered her in the flickering candlelight anew. He beheld Hope's gentle light beckoning him forth toward her embrace. His ears caught her breath catching in her throat. He knew he'd previously decided her fate and their situation. You should walk away. You must do your duty. She cheated on you. She….

Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight.

Love versus Duty…

Man versus King….

"Please…." she pleaded.

Instinct swept away Plan. Amor overwhelmed Restraint. Desire propelled him forward.

They locked glances. Their hearts pined for each other. Anticipation itched through their mouths. Without further thought, they embraced. Their mouths pressed down on each other. Much as with monsoon across a parched landscape, they felt revitalized. They felt whole. For several heartbeats, they lingered in Aphrodite's oasis.

She smiled. The previous months' ordeal seemed so far away. She had everything she desired in that room. Nothing else mattered. He was everything to her. She knew the others were watching. Frankly she didn't care.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Yes…well…that was a thank you." Yes he wanted her. Duty, however, reasserted itself.

"A thank you? Arthur, I…." Gwen turned. Rejection filled her eyes with tears again. Without looking either left or right, she ran from the area and down the dirt path toward the field beyond the village.

Arthur sighed. He ran his hands through his hair. Once again it seemed, his priorities seemed to conflict with one another.

And it wasn't about to get any easier either…