Chapter 15
Gwen frowned. Stench clogged her nostrils shut. She grimaced. Her eyes blurred into focus. She'd been in her house along Camelot's main road. She chopped onions and turnips for a soup. Her eyes shifted from time to time to the wrapped bundle on her table.
Morgana said it was a new serving dress for the feast.
At that point, everything around her blurred. Drowsiness weighed on her eyelids. Her legs wavered. She felt something prop her up from behind. She somehow sat down in a chair before Sleep claimed her.
Her eyes blinked into focus. She saw herself sitting in a privy seat. She sprang to her feet. She knew she'd soiled her skirt with who knows what. "Where am I? What happened?" She rushed out the door.
Around her, a crowded tavern throbbed with Rowdiness' beat. Craggy-toothed men stood at the bar with pints in hand. Laughs higher pitched than any hyena rang in her ears. Bawdy jokes stabbed at Sensibility's tolerance. Her nose wrinkled anew at the pungent odors.
She navigated the crowd. She sought a friendly face…some inkling of her location. She came up to the bar herself. Fortunately, she had a few coins in her pocket.
"Evenin', Miss." A blonde haired man with wisps of white and grey running through that unruly mop inspected her. "You all right?"
She exhaled a deep breath. What can you tell him? I am a runaway bride? I am defying my King? I do not want to marry my good friend because I am in love with Prince Arthur? She winced hearing the illogic in her own thoughts.
Why should we marry someone we do not love? her heart screamed back at her.
Is everyone so tormented? She shook her head.
"Miss?" The tavern keeper tapped her on the shoulder. "Sorry. Can I get you something?"
"Oh…aye. I'd like a pint of ale please. How much?" She counted out a few coins.
"Two pence." He filled a frosted pint and set it in front of her.
"Here you are." She set a shilling coin in his hand. "In case I need a refill. Thank you."
"You're indeed welcome." The tavern keeper pocketed the coin in his pants. He noticed a rather large drunk with white stringy hair and discolored teeth staggering close to her. "Reynolds! Lady don't want to be disturbed!"
"Too bad. I got jus' the thing to settle her moods." Reynolds leered at her. He grinned at her through the crooked teeth. Lust burned inside of him.
"I want to drink alone." She shook her head. She turned toward the bar.
"Too good for me, are ya?" Reynolds grabbed onto her arm.
She squinted at him. "Let me go! I said I wanted to be alone." Her eyes glared into his. Anger and Disbelief burned deeply in her mind. She looked over the entire crowd but saw not a helpful soul.
"Too bad. I got ya!" Reynolds moved toward her. Then he felt a powerful hand grabbed him by the shoulder. "Get 'way!"
Her eyes went wide. Relief relaxed her. "Lancelot?"
"Aye, Gwen." Lancelot stepped between Reynolds and her. His dark eyes burned down into the drunk's. "The lady is a friend. She does not want to be with you." He motioned toward the door.
Reynolds frowned. "Hero, eh?" He flashed a dagger. "She worth you gettin' cut?"
Lancelot's eyes narrowed. "She's worth dying for, Friend." He tensed. "Just put it away."
"Come on, Friend! You want a fight. Princess is already spoken for!"
She recognized the nickname and the voice. She looked around the room.
"Princess?" Lancelot shook his head at that description. Granted he wouldn't disagree with that title where Gwen was concerned. But he wanted to know who else thought that way.
"Mind your own business!" Reynolds wheeled around toward the challenge's source. "You don' want a piece of me, Friend!"
"Your funeral." A pint rang as it was set on its table. A chair slid across the worn wooden floor. A bit of dark hair popped up behind the other onlookers. Slowly the crowd bumped and jostled as someone worked his way toward the bar.
"HEY! I DON' WANT NO TROUBLE!" the tavern keeper barked out.
"Tell Big Boy that." Gawain sauntered out of the crowd. His eyes assessed Reynolds, then Lancelot and Gwen. He tipped his pint to his mouth but found it empty. Disgust narrowed his eyes. "Get me another. I'll be ready in just a bit." He stepped to Lancelot's side. "Hey, Gwen, who are your friends?"
"I'm Lancelot. You?" Lancelot raised an eyebrow at the newcomer.
"Gawain. Gwen and I ran into each other back in Camelot a while back. You?" Gawain met Lancelot's gaze with his own expression.
"Similar story. She is a dear friend." Lancelot motioned toward Gawain. "You know him?"
"Aye. It is as he said." She shook her head. Irony delivered a very subtle jab at her that she did not miss. She recalled how Gawain had stopped her on the street. He'd offered her a flower. She'd given it back to him. Of course, she also remembered that he'd saved Arthur's life. Twice. She gulped from her ale.
Gawain smirked. "Nice to know I still matter." He accepted the refilled pint. "Thanks." He gulped down a bit more ale. Then he held it out to Lancelot. "Want some?"
"I have mine at the table. Thanks." Lancelot's eyes never left Reynolds or his dagger. "He is armed."
"Yeah. I saw that." Gawain shrugged. He took another mouthful. "Just makes it more interesting. Right?" The devil-may-care smirk spread across his face once again. He set the pint down on the bar. "Guess he doesn't take nay for an answer. Does he?"
"I suppose not." Lancelot shook his head. His eyes watched Reynolds' blade. He tensed.
Reynolds stabbed with his weapon.
Lancelot connected with a punch to Reynolds' face.
Gawain's fist met the drunk's stomach. He glared at Reynolds as the latter fell to the floor. "Guess next time you'll take the drink. Eh?" He looked at Lancelot. "Lance, where's the table? We should talk."
"Aye." Lancelot considered her. "Are you all right, Gwen? What are you doing here in Tintagel?"
"Tintagel?" Incredulity widened her eyes. "I was in my house in Camelot. I fell asleep for some reason. I woke up in the privy over there."
"Sounds like more sorcery. Great." Gawain assumed.
"Not all sorcerers are evil," Lancelot rebutted. "Sometimes they can be in places you would not expect."
"Wish we had one in the Perilous Lands. Maybe ol' Arthur wouldn't have cut it so close." Gawain shook that observation off.
"The Perilous Lands? What was he doing there?" Lancelot nearly choked on the mouthful of his mead.
"He was supposed to be there by himself!" She looked around to make sure nobody was listening in.
"As if Merlin would let him do that?" Gawain coughed.
"I'd expect no less, Gwen." Lancelot nodded. "Surely you shouldn't be surprised."
"Nay. Merlin would go through anything for Arthur." She frowned. "It is just that Arthur was supposed to go alone."
"Yeah. It was something like some quest for the special trident. We had to deal with some dragon things. Merlin found it." Gawain gulped again from his pint.
She rubbed her forehead. "If Uther found out, he could have Arthur exiled for that."
"He would." Lancelot sighed. "It does not matter to Uther. He exiled me."
"He did me twice in one day." Gawain made a face. "I won his big tournament."
"That sounds familiar." Lancelot drank from his own goblet. "Same thing happened to me a few years ago. I fought in the tournament even though I was not a noble. I proved my worthiness but it did not matter."
"Nobility comes from the person not some passed down title. Folks like Merlin and Gwen here are the true nobles." Gawain ground his teeth. The memory of his family's travails weighed on him once more.
"I will surely drink to that." Lancelot regarded her. He raised his pint again.
"I've told both of you. Arthur's not like that. You'll see. When he is King, things will be different." She defended her Prince.
"Merlin will harp on him until Arthur does." Gawain snorted. "What's going on back in Camelot now? Uther stirring up another hornet's nest or what?"
She winced. "Uther knows about Arthur and me. He is determined to keep us apart. He wants me to marry Merlin. Then he can marry Arthur to some Princess." She narrowed her eyes.
"Merlin knows better than to get between you two," Gawain assured her.
"Morgana is behind this. She arranged for Uther to find Arthur and me on our picnic. Uther nearly had me executed. Arthur promised him that it was over. Now he found Merlin catching me as I fell from a ladder. He assumed that there were feelings between us." She shook her head.
"If it was not for Arthur's love for you, Gwen, I would offer my own hand in marriage," Lancelot reminded her.
"I know, Lancelot. I am sorry but I love Arthur." Gwen smiled for his benefit. She noticed a familiar looking woman approaching them. "Sorry but I do I know you?"
"Nay. I know of you all. I am Freya, once accursed Druid girl and now priestess to the triple goddess. Come." Freya pointed toward the door. "We are needed in Nemeth."
"Nemeth?" Gawain frowned. "That's two days' ride from here!"
By horseback. I can speed your way there." Freya bunched her cloak about herself.
"Wait!" Gwen tensed. "How are you still human at night? I thought you turned into a monster."
"Aye. I did. Merlin took me to the Lake of Avalon after I died. I was cleansed by the triple goddess and returned to this life. It seems I have a new duty. Now follow me," Freya explained.
"I still have questions but perhaps we can get answers in Nemeth." Lancelot finished his drink.
"Hate to guzzle good ale. Bugger!" Gawain complained. "Where is Merlin? If Gwen's here, he is safe. Right?"
"Merlin will join us at Whitgate. He has an errand to run first. Now come." Freya motioned again.
"I get it. I get it." Gawain gulped down the last of his drink. He set the pint on the table. "I won't leave Merlin stuck especially if the Princess put him there."
Gwen raised an eyebrow but let it go. She simply followed Freya outside.
"Maybe you might not call Arthur that in front of her?" Lancelot suggested.
What? It is the truth! Gawain complained to himself. He frowned but followed the others outside….