Chapter 34 [Woods—A League From Whitgate]
Much like in the north, broken clouds partially concealed Sol's presence. The wind rustled the tree tops. A spitting of chilled rain fell on the grasses along the woodland path. A few animals scurried along the path. Despite the nearly-noon hour, a heavy mist hung low to the ground obscuring most of the scene from view.
In the midst of the pea soup fog, Freya stepped out her portal. She squinted out an assessment of her surroundings. She felt only Lament's waves flowing around herself toward the fortified city ahead. The moisture and humidity dampened her cloak and hair within seconds. Still this was of little consequence to her at the moment. Determining that all was safe, she called back through the portal. "It is safe, Queen Guinevere! Please lead your knights through!"
Gwen urged her mount through the unearthly portal. Despite the fact that the passage only represented four trotting steps for Horace, she felt as if she moved over a great distance and at a slow pace. She felt bits of chill across her skin. Her heart shivered from a deeper cold therein. Her ears perked to eerie sounds therein. What is this place? She ground her teeth. Her eyes flitted around this way and that. Then, as soon as she had entered it, she resumed her place in this world. "Where are we?"
"This is the forest path. We are but a league away from Whitgate, Milady," Freya noted. She pointed to the tree. "This is where I left Merlin to be found by Sir Ywain and Malodius. Forgive my choice of destination. I did not want to add any more confusion in the capital on this day."
Gwen cautiously nodded. She could definitely understand the priestess' logic. "I appreciate your concern, Priestess Freya. We certainly don't wish to make things worse for Merlin and Mithian. Might we lead the others through?"
"Of course. I wanted you to get your bearings first, Great Queen," Freya agreed. She waved her hands allowing the portal to expand. "Ride through, Brave Knights!"
Percival and Balinor gingerly rode their steeds into the misty backdrop. They looked about before beckoning the other twenty knights to follow.
"Forgive me. It seems that Natura herself reacts to King Rodor's tragic death," Freya presumed. She pointed down the path. "Whitgate is not far. Ride now. Your support will be appreciated." With that, she disappeared from view.
"Where'd she go?" one of the newly arrived knights demanded.
"She does that," Percival observed. He looked to Gwen. "We ride, Milady?"
Gwen shrugged. She really didn't like this scenario. Memoria reminded her of how Morgana would launch ambushes in such a fashion. Despite the priestess' good intentions, Gwen still didn't trust Freya…at least not wholeheartedly. In for a shilling, in for a pound…. She sucked in a calming breath and summoned up every bit of regality she could manage. "Yes. Follow me. We make for Whitgate. Prince Merlin and Princess Mithian can use our support right now." She spurred Horace onward down the path.
"You heard the Queen!" Percival called to the others. Then he followed in her wake with all due speed and insuring the others would do the same.
Gwen pushed the pace. She realized that a Queen should ride elegantly into a city. Under normal circumstances, her station demanded a quiet dignity befitting a royal….
…the circumstances, however, were anything but normal….
I won't leave you alone, Merlin. Arthur would stand by you at this point. I can do no less. Nor will the knights. She narrowed her eyes and pulled her hood up over her dampened hair. A quick glance over her shoulder ascertained that the knights followed close in her wake. She noted the Pendragon standard billowing in the stiff breeze. Purpose filled her heart and brain. She kept the pace even across the drawbridge and through the town itself.
Percival remained three strides in back of her. Given both the natural and political elements about them, he wouldn't leave his liege lady's side. Going through the gate, he offered a quick wave to the guards in acknowledgement as they passed through. Then he banked hard to the left and up to the citadel itself. "Milady?"
"It's too quiet, Percival," she informed him. "No knights on duty outside?"
"After the coup attempt, the majority are in the dungeon," he pointed out. He dismounted quickly while keeping his hand on his sword's hilt. "King Rodor's funeral will be starting any moment. You can see Leon's concern?"
"I trusted his assessment before. This confirms it." She saw the rest of the traveling party dismounting behind them. "Be on guard." She quirked an eyebrow in surprise. "Where are the mourners? Surely they'd be out."
"Word may not have reached them," Balinor presumed. "Perhaps they still remain indoors out of fear. They don't know if the nobles' coup succeeded or not. Tis strange we were able to ride this far without challenge."
"I waved to the guards by the drawbridge. They saw our standard," Percival assured his fellow knight. "Perhaps they are all in the crypt for the services?"
"Perhaps. I had hoped to be here in time for that. I would have thought Freya would have let them know by now of our presence." Gwen blushed with embarrassment.
"Maybe she didn't. She is one of them," Balinor reminded her still distrusting magic and its practitioners.
Before anyone else could respond, one of the doors creaked open. Gawain peered out. "Gwen! Percy! Bloody Devil! It is you!" He pushed the door open. "You're just in time! We're about to start."
"Start? You mean the King's funeral service?" Percival queried.
"King Rodor and Prince Kay's services." Gawain clarified. He motioned them all inside. "You guys might want to hang out in the citadel. Don't want anyone tellin' stories or presuming things. Right?"
"Indeed. It is a good reminder for us all,' she concurred. She shot Balinor a corrective look. "Did Priestess Freya say something?"
"Yeah. That's why Merlin and the Princess sent me up here. It's about to start," Gawain urged. He ushered them all inside before securing the doors in their wake. "Oh yeah. There's something else."
The group turned the corner to find a half dozen knights clad in royal blue standing guard just inside of the entryway.
"Bors is downstairs. These are his boys." Gawain shrugged irreverently despite the circumstances. He clapped a bald man mountain on the chain mail clad arm. "Hey, Denis! Told you they'd make it." He wiggled his fingers and cleared his throat.
Denis rolled his eyes. He took out three silver coins and slapped them into his British counterpart's outstretched hand. "We should have known better than to doubt your timing, Queen Guinevere." He bowed before her.
"Given the circumstances, it is understandable. Still, Sir Gawain, certainly one shouldn't be wagering on such things?" she assured the visitor on the one hand and jabbed her own knight on the other.
"Hey! I have to defend your honor, right? I knew you'd be here. I set them straight," Gawain defended himself. He pocketed his winnings.
"Meaning he couldn't find a suitable tavern with the healer watching him," Percival insinuated.
Gawain flushed. "I can go out after this other stuff's over, Percy. Whatever! Just follow me already. And no. Brit doesn't tell me what to do. Stuff that!" He marched down the passage.
Percival smirked. "She definitely has him. Unreal but true."
She nodded. "Indeed so. Thank you all for doing your duty. Now if you excuse us?" Receiving bows from the assembled knights, she and Percival followed Gawain toward the crypt.
It seemed several things be out of place, needing explanations of one sort or another…..