Chapter 17 [Next Morning—Just Before Mid Day]
Collaboration buzzed throughout the night and into that morning. Servants worked in shifts to sack the grain and stack it in neat piles along the passage's wall. The knights helped to carry sacks up the stairs and out to the waiting wagon in the square. Five large baskets of bread sat behind the wagon's driver seat. Filled sacks piled above the wagon's side walls.
Gawain slid the last grain sack into place. "There! Glad that's done!" He shook his head.
Lancelot took a mouthful of water from his water skin. "It will be a good deed done, Gawain. Look at it that way." He handed it to Gawain. "You earned a mouthful."
"Thanks, Lance." Gawain gulped a big mouthful. Then he returned the skin to Lancelot. "Bloody warm day, it is." He glanced back into the citadel. "So how's your girl upstairs?"
"Elaine? She is resting." Lancelot raised an eyebrow. His heart wanted to protest. His mind had struggled with moving on beyond Gwen. "Besides I would think your girl would tell you." He coughed.
"Brit? My girl?" Gawain frowned as if he'd swallowed a piece of sour apple. "Maybe when I don't want a life anymore." He snorted. Much as in Lancelot's case, he visualized the knight-healer's red hair and green eyes. He shuddered.
"Careful, Uncle. I think Britomart has you limed," Cligés jabbed. He wiped Sweat's beads from his forehead. "It really is not all that bad. Fenice and I care for each other."
"Whatever. That Greek food must've softened you in the head, Kid." Gawain grinned at his nephew. "Wish your Mom was here rather than in that place." He ruffled the younger man's hair. "King or not, you look better now."
"I'm not Emperor officially. One day, I hope to be. Then I can treat Mother as she deserves, Uncle Gawain." Cligés declared.
"Patience and perseverance, my Friend." Bors insisted from his guard post. "Your sister and you both will get there, goddess willing. Just as Britomart's patience will be rewarded." He chuckled at Gawain.
"Look, Borsie! That one would scramble my brains just by being there!" Gawain protested.
"No worse than they are now, I think," Lancelot teased. "Elaine and I talked this morning. I never thought I'd feel this way about anyone but Gwen. Elaine is special. She wants to be with me. I proposed. She accepted. King Rodor approves. I am fortunate, Gawain. Britomart could make you a good wife."
"Now who's scrambled in the head?" Gawain scoffed. "Merlin's getting hitched. Lance, you're doing it. Someone's got to hit the tavern. Might as well be me. I've got too much to share with the ladies."
"They want your money not you. Just face that, Uncle," Cligés corrected his elder. "Fenice and I are getting married. Josiane and Boeve will be doing the same."
"Maybe Gaius can mix a love potion?" Bors supposed with a smirk.
Gawain turned green at that thought.
"It could happen." Freya walked up to the knights. "Good morrow, Good Knights. Prince Merlin and Princess Josiane provided the wagon."
"Who are you, Lady? Another sorceress like Morgana?" Gawain challenged.
"Wait!" Lancelot raised his hand. "Pardon me. Your name please?"
"I am the High Priestess Freya. I serve the triple goddess. Prince Merlin knows and trusts me. So should you. I am here to help you get this wagon to its destination," she explained.
"How do we know you're not another Morgana?" Suspicion raised Concern's alarms in Gawain's head over her presence there.
"Morgana was my predecessor. Her hatred is not the answer to our situation. Now is it? I have plenty to be angry over. It is more important for me to serve the goddess and help build a world of peace and co-existence," she clarified.
"Indeed, Milady." Lancelot bowed to her. "Forgive me. I needed to be sure."
"I understand, Lancelot. I assure you that it is me." She glanced into his eyes. "Well now! Perhaps there will be another handfasting soon?"
Lancelot squirmed. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Aye. Lady Elaine of Astolat and I are betrothed. Would you join us, Priestess Freya?"
"Barring unforeseen objections, I would be delighted. I am glad, Lancelot. You and Elaine will be very happy. And perhaps there might be another?" Impishness smirked toward Gawain.
"Not her too! Bloody hell!" Gawain hustled back into the palace.
"Such teasing from a priestess? I am surprised." Lancelot coughed into his hand.
"Whatever it takes to get the stubborn to their chosen place. We know how difficult Prince Merlin could be," she reminded him.
"Aye." Lancelot rolled his eyes. He saw Merlin, Mithian and Rodor emerge onto the stairs. "Sire. Prince Merlin and Princess Mithian." He bowed along with the other knights.
"King Rodor, Good Afternoon." Freya nodded to him.
"Priestess Freya, thank you for coming. I trust you are having a good day as well?" Rodor supposed.
"I am well. Thank you for having the wagon ready. Have we picked a village?" Freya asked.
"Ceofrethburgh. It is the farthest village from here just a few leagues from the Mercian border. It is dire need however. If it would not be too much trouble, can we start loading another wagon? I do not know how much effort it is to use your spell," Rodor informed her.
"Of course. That would be an efficient use of resources." Freya looked to Merlin and Mithian. "You two seemed tense yesterday. I trust you are feeling better now?"
"We are. Thank you, Priestess Freya." Mithian smiled. "We appreciate your help."
"It is my pleasure. You do more than you know for Nemeth and Britannia. The least I can do is help you. The Prince helped me. I have helped him. We remind each other of our purposes. If I may say so, Princess, I am glad the goddess picked you to be at his side. I just hope to be your friend and earn your trust."
"You are doing just that," Rodor confirmed. "Prince Bors, Sir Lancelot and Sir Wilhelm, you will accompany Freya and Prince Merlin to Ceofrethburgh. Make sure that everything is unloaded. If the villagers need some assistance, you can provide it. Then, return as soon as possible. It is a long ride back on the horses."
The stable boy brought up Merlin's horse. "I have Windchaser for you, Prince Merlin." He bowed to the royals.
Merlin admired the dark black steed. He patted the horse's flank. "You are truly special, Windchaser. Thank you."
"Just one of my handfasting presents." Mithian kissed Merlin on the cheek. "I will expect horseback rides and perhaps a race?"
"With a proper escort, Daughter," Rodor interjected. Insistence arched his eyebrow. "We will not be taking chances. Agreed?"
"Agreed." Mithian managed to keep a straight face. The Princess understood Security's need. Resentment chafed at the Woman's heart.
Merlin offered a helpful smile. "I will be back soon."
"You'd best not keep me waiting, my Prince," Mithian rebutted with a sparkle in her eye. "Be safe."
"You too." Merlin mounted Windchaser. He watched the other knights do the same. "Be back as soon as I can, Sire."
"I am sure. Represent us well, Prince Merlin. I have confidence in you. Prince Bors, I'm sure, can help you. Sir Lancelot and Sir Wilhelm, make sure the Prince is safe," Rodor instructed.
"We will, Sire." Lancelot nodded.
"If we are ready?" Freya waved her hands. She murmured an ancient chant. Canary flashed in her eyes.
Mist enveloped the area before forming into a column and then a portal.
"If you ride the wagon through that, you will find yourselves in Ceofrethburgh. Be careful. People are fearful. No chances now," Freya pointed out. I mean it, Merlin.
Merlin fought down the urge to roll his eyes.
We do not need a dynastic crisis here in Nemeth. Do we? If you need help, ask. I will know when you are ready to come back. Freya motioned toward the portal. You really want to keep Mithian waiting?
Merlin coughed. He looked to the wagon driver. "Let's go!"
The contingent disappeared into the mists.
"There they go." Trepidation ate at Mithian. Merlin, be safe. Please!
Another wagon eased up to the palace door.
"Let's get this wagon loaded. Mithian, you might wish to check your crossbow bolts. You will be leading this wagon. I will have Lady Britomart, Sir Gawain, Sir Ywain and Malodius with you. I want you to be ready within the hour."
"Aye, Sire." Mithian nodded. "Priestess Freya, I shall return."
"Well prepared is well intentioned for success, Princess Mithian," Freya agreed.
Rodor sucked in a deep breath. Introspection and Hope held many questions in his mind. He wanted his subjects to receive the aid with open hearts. "Princess Jasmine can reach either party quickly with her carpet. I have done as much as I can. This is for the present and future." He walked back into the palace to seek out strong arms and backs to load the new cart.
For the present and future indeed. May the goddess grant it so…. Freya bit her lip.