"Rest now," Galahad broke the moment, "We will speak later about getting home."
"All right," she clumsily stood and motioned to leave.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To go find myself a room," Creiddylad said with an obvious tone.
"No, you will sleep here."
"And pray tell, where would Sir Galahad sleep?" she cocked her head with her arms crossed.
"Same." It was ordinary for them to share beds in their youth. So when Galahad suggested it now, it posed no concern or threat.
"Do you still snore?"
"No... I think I don't."
"Have any of your bed mates complained?" she teased.
"No one has shared my bed... Come on silly girl, sleep, or you will be sleeping all day on the morrow."
"I suppose I will have to follow a knight's orders," she slipped back into the furs and pelts. She had to confess to herself that she has not have a bed like this since they were united last.
"Good night, Creiddylad."
"Night Galahad, don't retire too late either." She settled deeper in the bed.
As Galahad was meeting with the knights, he was fully aware how he avoided explaining why he has not shared his bed. Another conversation for another day. His mind was focused on Creiddylad and home.
The knights drank a bit and Arthur finally greeted them. He eyed each of the knights before he had to inform them of the ill message of continuing their service. The bishop proposed one last duty before their papers were given. They are to rescue the Pope's favorite godson Alecto from the Marius estate.
The catch is the hostile Saxons and Woads will be many and in their way. Their chances of success and survival was were narrow like a bull's-eye. Every one of the knights were disappointed, angry, frustrated, and confused. They eventually agreed to the task for Arthur's and their own sake. Galahad poured the jar of wine and smashed by Arthur's feet and walked away.
Just when he thought his future had some kind of light, it was snatched quickly again. He went back into his chambers. Creiddylad was sleeping softly as he sat at the foot of the bed trying to figure out what to do. He could have her stay here until he comes back, if he comes back. He could not possibly leave her there though on the account of the bishop's presence.
Who knows what could happen, he would be off on a suicidal mission and he won't be there to protect her. And if he dies, there would be no armistice for her protection. His elbows sat on his thighs and his hands on his face. Galahad took deep breaths for a solution. He thought of one. Creiddylad would have to come with him. He would have to find Arthur to allow her to come. Would he?
"Galahad?" Creiddylad yawned when she saw a figure sitting on the edge of the bed. He faced her with his sad face. "Galahad, what is the matter?" she sat up and became more awake in response to his troubled face against the moonlight.
"I am not free yet. We have been assigned one more mission. To the Marius estate... The hardest one yet...We leave tomorrow... I don't know what to do."
Creiddylad crawled to the edge of the bed next to him. "But after you are free, yes?"
"If I survive..."
"Galahad do not determined a defeated fate for yourself or for your brothers. You have survived thus far, you are strong, Galahad," she took his hand.
"When I am away, what will become of you?"
"I don't know, I..."
"The bishop is here. I've seen him look at you. He still believes he has a claim on you. In my absence or death, he will take you. I will never be able to live or forgive myself if I am able to prevent it so."
"What do you think I should do?"
"I think you should come with me. It will be treacherous, but at least I will be there to protect you. We come back, get my papers, and head east. But you must know that you will risk your life in following me."
"Galahad, if you believe that this is the right path. It is a path I take full knowingly," she looked into his blue eyes which seemed to iced by the moonlight.
"Galahad, you must sleep. You will need all your strength and wit for what lies ahead." He complied with a "mm" sound. Galahad removed his boots, cuffs, etcetera, down to a sleeping shirt and breeches. Galahad went into the bed and faced away from her. Creiddylad looked at his back, she placed her hand and smoothed it across.
"Galahad," she whispered.
"Mm?"
"Come," she beseeched. He turned over. She guided his head under her chin and chest. Her arms wrapped him close to her. Galahad quickly began to hum a light snore. Creiddylad smiled with an exhale.
"May the gods bestow all that you need, my friend," she whispered as she submitted her consciousness to the night.
Galahad woke with much on his mind. He did however, found refuge in Creiddylad as she comforted him in his sleep. He felt and listened to her breathing. Creiddylad knew he was awake by the change of his breathing. She was always a light sleeper.
So, she began to finger his hair, "Sleep, the sun still hides." He obeyed and took a few breaths deeper. Even with all the chaos in his mind, it was the best sleep ever granted. His eyes roamed the room and noticed Creiddylad's and his position changed to the opposite, her in his arms.
"Go, speak to Arthur," she yawned.
"It unnerves me that you always know when I'm awake," he smiled.
"Call it a gift."
Galahad began to pet her hair. It was the greatest refinement he touched, "In a moment." An outsider may suppose that these two were lovers after a night of carnal acts of love. Alas, it must be reiterated that these two are friends and family. He cherished the moment and began to sit up. Creiddylad stood up and approached the window. The sun crept up past the horizon. Galahad took the advantage of her turned back and switched his clothes.
"I'll be back shortly," he stood stomping his feet into his boots.
"Um Galahad, when you do could you possibly get me clothing as well?"
"I'll try, you may not like what I bring back," he teased.
She threw a pillow at him, "Your mother would not approve of such tongue."
He approached the doorframe again and turned with a last quip, "With you around, who needs a mother?" he shined an innocent smile.
"Oh!" Creiddylad threw another pillow jestly at the closed the door.
Galahad found Arthur talking to himself, well his God.
"Arthur, I don't apologize for my actions but I understand the predicament."
"Galahad, I wish it was not so. You and the others more than deserve the freedom that was yours to begin with."
"Arthur, I have another topic to discuss about Creiddylad."
"She is progressing better, yes?"
"Aye, her spirit is as it were, all those years ago."
"Good." There was a pause.
"She has to come with us."
"Galahad, you know how dangerous this mission is. You want to jeopardize her as well?"
"If she stays, she is at risk of death or worse. If she goes, at least I know where she is and know of her welfare."
"Does she know what lies ahead?"
"Aye, she knows and agrees to it."
"What if something happens out there, can you live with that burden?"
"I know I cannot live with it, if I was not there."
Arthur held his forehead. Just one more person to worry about. "I will let her come. But be aware of all the possibilities of how this may come about." Galahad nodded and left.
Galahad stopped by the laundry labor room. He was slightly awkward asking for women's clothing. The head mistress gave him a suspicious look but nodded in compliance. "What big or small do you the fit, milord?"
"Size?... She is a bit on the skinny side. But eating after a while, she may fill. Eh, somewhere in the middle, perhaps?"
"What sort of garb? Dresses, night garbs, labor shirts and pants..."
"Um, the night garbs, any labor and traveling clothing will do."
"Any for the feet?"
Will the woman cease with her questions?! "Boots, warms boots." "
The size, milord," her patience was wearing thin.
"Um, she will come by for that." The mistress disappear for a few moments.
"Here you go," she placed items on his hands and began to stack. The pile went up to his nose.
"Um thank you," his gratitude muffled through the pile. He proceeded to the bathing quarters he opened the door without notice.
Creiddylad was in the tub, not a bit alarmed, "You could have knocked, Sir Knight."
"Yes, but it seems pointless when I have no hand to use and if you were naked, I couldn't see anyhow," the pile of laundry talked.
"Hold a moment," she said as she got up and dressed in a drying linen.
"I've been holding..."
"Put it down, please," he guided himself along the wall until his legs bumped into a bench. The, he plopped the clothes. "Let's see what you have brought..." she rummaged through approving and disapproving. She grabbed some things, "Do you mind?" Creiddylad said tartly.
"No, not a bit, continue," Galahad gave a dangerously flirtatious grin. She tilted her head. "All right," he turned his body. She removed the linen and started to dress. He could not help but take a peek over his shoulder. He has been always doing that since they were ten. First, it was just curiosity then it evolved to an attraction. Yup, she still as beautiful, even if the view is always her backside.
"So, what did Arthur say?" she said while dressing.
"Hm? Oh, we have approval. Not fully, but enough."
"I'll try to keep the annoying to the minimum."
"You done?"
"Yes." He turned around. She had some layers of tunics and other shirts with pants.
"Well, you will need to go in person to get boots."
"Well, how am I suppose to get there, barefoot?"
"Come," Galahad bent his knees. Creiddylad took a few steps and jumped onto his back.
"Onward, gallant steed!" she commanded. Galahad carried her back to the laundry room.
"This must be the lass," the same woman returned to greet. "Well come in, let us see what we have for you." The old, feisty woman took Creiddylad's hand. Besides boots, she got gloves, a cloak, scarves, and other necessities.
Creiddylad walked out with a bundle in hand. "Finally, oh, I went to the smith and got this for you," Galahad handed a light weight sword.
"Thank you," she balanced it in hand.
"Enough gifts, before you become a spoiled twit," he nudged. She backhanded his arm. They went back to Galahad's room and packed. Afterwards, they headed to the stables. "Jols, I was wondering if you could give Creiddylad a horse," he asked while tacking his own horse, Libor.
"Of course," Jols grinned and scouted through the new and unclaimed horses.
"Jols, has a talent of assigning the best horse for that person," Galahad explained to her.
"I think she'll do," Jols started to tack the horse. Jols was setting a saddle on brown and white mare with brown hair. "Just trained her myself, she's a good lass," Jols said out loud.
"What is her name?" Creiddylad rubbed the equine face.
"Doesn't have one. I was waiting for her owner to give one," Jols exhaled as he strapped.
"I think... Liam."
"Liam? Isn't that a man's name?"
"Yes, but it's the name of my first horse." Galahad was overhearing the conversation and remembered the old ragged horse doll.