Chapter 4 [A Half-Turn of the Hourglass Later]
In contrast to the rest of the palace slumbering blissfully, the Nemethian delegation allowed themselves no such luxury. Mithian ordered them to make ready to leave as soon as everything could be packed. While she offered no exact explanation, her subjects readily obeyed. With surprising haste, they packed their belongings in preparation for the long horseback ride back to Whitgate.
In such ways could even shattered dreams be packed off and prepared for carting off…..
[A/N: Britomart is from Edmund Spenser's Faerie Queene.]
In a chamber next to her mistress' area, a red haired slender woman fumed over the trip's ill fortunes. As with the rest of the delegation, she'd hoped that Mithian had finally found a worthy suitor. She wanted to see the greatest city in the area and take in everything that it could boast. She'd even planned to approach Gaius for medical expertise. She wanted to succeed either him or Master Wyngate back home as Court Physician.
Then it seemed Life threw a kink into those plans.
The sooner we can put this place behind us, the better! She fumed over her mistress' treatment during their stay there. While his greeting had been warm enough at the beginning, King Arthur had distanced himself increasingly from Mithian. Camelot's knights and people hadn't mixed other than a few passing pleasantries. They could barely be bothered to offer directions or suggestions where to head for this or that in their strange city.
Maybe that was why she skated through a close call earlier on that evening. She rolled her eyes. With the tension from Arthur's coolness toward Mithian, she'd escaped the palace to think and deal with things. Making her way to the Rising Sun, she ordered an ale and sat by herself at the bar. She just wanted to decompress and put her mind at ease. She needed to come up with a strategy to calm Mithian's nerves about the trip. Despite showing little or no interest in the ingrates who bothered her, a mountain of a man grabbed her inappropriately. When she told him no, he shoved her hard into the bar.
And that's when her world turned upside down…..
…turned by the actions of a devil-may-care rogue….
She coughed with embarrassment over needing anyone's help in such a situation. She could still hear the interchange between her attacker and the hero in question.
"Lady said she don't like you. Go home, Williams, before someone has to carry you there."
Williams, as his name apparently was, narrowed his eyes and turned to find a medium-built man with shoulder length brown hair just touching the fabric of his blue tunic and a matching beard. "Don't remember asking you, Gawain. Don't the Boy King need you?"
"Merlin's got it in hand. Some of us get to take a break every now and again." Gawain took a deep swig from his tankard and set it down hard on the bar. He wiped the remaining foam from his face. "Sure I can't just buy you another? Come on. Is it worth the hassle?"
"Why? You going to try it? I don't see your fellow knights here." Williams took a long draught of his own before belching loudly in the knight's face. "I just want the Fire Hair. Go find some other wench, Pretty Boy."
"You just had to say it. Didn't you?" Gawain smirked at her. "Be right back, Brit." Then he went low, delivering a right cross to the other's midsection with little effect.
"Brit?" Granted when he said it, the nickname almost sounded sweet…almost…. "That's Britomart!"
"Whatever. Maybe you might get out of here before…." Gawain ducked Williams' streaking fist. Still he couldn't avoid the knee in the groin. "Bloody…that ain't fair!"
"I ain't no knight like you." Williams smacked Gawain viciously across the face.
"Yeah well…your breath smells like rot! Gawain rolled his eyes. Shrugging off the discomfort in his midsection, he connected with a right cross to Williams' nose. Anger boosted his strength. "You've got a thing or two to learn about bein' around the ladies!" He drove his boot hard into the other's knee eliciting a bellow of rage from the other.
Williams staggered and slipped. He fell to the floor still grabbing at the leg in question.
"Next time, Jackarse, when a woman says no, she means no!" Gawain exhaled sharply. Then he turned to her. "So you okay, Brit?"
"It's Britomart actually. Yes I am. Thank you. You're the only gentleman in this city it seems," she expressed.
"He couldn't even keep his feet like a real man." Gawain shrugged before slumping onto a chair. He still felt the throbbing from his abused pride. "Man's gotta help a lady, right?"
"I am in your debt, Sir Gawain…is it? Don't get any ideas however. I know a few things about blades too." She allowed him a warm smile. The rogue did save her from abuse and a possible assault charge after all. "Perhaps I will allow you to buy me a drink?"
Gawain did buy her one drink. Then he escorted her back to the castle. "Sorry about the bloody idiot. We aren't all like that."
"I can imagine. Thank you again. Be well, Sir Gawain," she concluded before heading up to her chamber.
I was better off being ignored. She folded her light blue dress carefully and set that in a woolen sack by the bed. Her brown tunic and dark breeches sat over the chair in the corner awaiting the next day's ride home. Sitting beside the latter on the floor, a small medical bag stood ready for use. That's everything. If we spend longer in this Hades-hole, it won't be on my account! I wonder how she's doing? She glanced around the chamber once more. Then she headed for the passage beyond.
What she'd find out there would be a surprise indeed…..