Chapter Ten: The Crossing, Part I
A/N: First of all, my most sincere apologies to anyone reading this story. I never meant to just leave the story like this, but certain issues came up. Needless to say, I'm giving it another go, and I'd just like to thank everyone for their support.
By the time Challenger awoke in the morning, their Avatar honour guard had departed and the other men were waiting near the smouldering campfire. "Good morning, Professor," Conway called. "I took the liberty of ordering breakfast for you all," he said, gesturing to the half dozen palm fronds filled with jungle fruits, nuts, and strange dark bread before him.
"Thank you, Mr. Conway," the scientist replied, taking a seat next to Ned. The young man handed him a smaller palm frond to use as a plate, which Challenger accepted gratefully.
"Please, Professor, just Gavin, or Conway if you must."
"Very well—Gavin." Breakfast was delicious, but even Ned, the self-declared cuisine connoisseur, was obviously preoccupied. In fact, all three young men were staring out at the jungle, frowning slightly. Challenger suppressed a smile, knowing that once again his companions (and to be honest, he as well) were puzzled by man's greatest mystery—woman. Marguerite was by far the most complicated, confusing, and contradictory woman Challenger had ever met, and Veronica was so utterly unique that she was equally difficult to classify. With the two of them—and thus all of them—mixed up in some crazy If any men had reason to wonder about their women, it was the tree house men.
From the sound of Veronica's laughter, Challenger was not the only who found the situation amusing. The men's reactions as they turned around to face the blonde were quintessential: Roxton smiled wryly, Ned flushed a bit, still smiling, and Gavin grinned.
Marguerite and Elaine decided to make an appearance then as well, so the company settled down to breakfast together in a festive mood.
As always, it did not last long. Breakfast ended all too soon, and then the explorers were faced with a grave Gavin Conway.
The young man sighed. "About a mile from here is the Crossing."
"The Crossing?" Veronica frowned, and Challenger heartily concurred. He disliked it when people spoke common nouns with capital letters. In his experience, it was always a bad sign.
"There are only two ways into Avalon. Those of the bloodline or those bearing Avalon's symbol may enter from any of the portals around the Plateau—I'm sure you have seen some. They are all marked with the Trion."
Challenger nodded. "That stone gate—the one where Veronica was knocked unconscious—it was actually a portal, wasn't it?"
"A stone gate with the Trion? It's very likely. Unfortunately, the portals have become very unpredictable lately. We're not exactly sure why, but your mother has a few theories," Gavin said, nodding to Veronica. "With the portals effectively closed, that leaves the Crossing. It is the only entrance into Avalon that is open to all."
"Let me guess…we battle a dragon," Marguerite said sarcastically. Gavin's frown deepened, and the heiress's eyes widened. "You're not serious!"
"The Crossing is a test of spirit. I can tell you no more about it, except that…" Gavin broke off, shooting a quick glance at his sister, who nodded hesitantly. "We relived our worst memory." Roxton and Marguerite flinched a little. Challenger, however, was morbidly fascinated. This was his chance to observe another of the Plateau's currently inexplicable phenomena. "If the Crossing finds you worthy, you are transported into Avalon. If not—you will remain trapped in whatever nightmarish world it conjured until you die."
There was dead silence. Roxton looked pained and Marguerite was very, very pale. Ned and Veronica did not look much better, and Challenger himself was feeling a little ill. Trapped in a nightmare? "It's your choice," Gavin said softly. "If you wish to return to your tree house, I will guide you. Elaine can take the willing to the Crossing."
"I'm going," Veronica said determinedly.
"And I'm coming with you," Ned declared quickly. She smiled at him, and Ned took her hand gently. Despite the dilemma, Challenger could not resist a proud smile. Finally.
"Lord Roxton? Marguerite?" Gavin asked gently.
Challenger glanced over at the older couple in concern. Neither had moved an inch.
"John…"
"Marguerite…"
They both laughed softly. "You first," Marguerite whispered.
He nodded in acquiescence. "I follow you, love," Roxton said simply, his heart in his eyes.
Marguerite quickly blinked back her tears, leaving her eyes suspiciously bright. "I don't know what to do, John," she admitted.
The hunter paused for a moment. "Is there any way for us to cross together?" he asked Gavin.
"It's possible," the young man admitted. Marguerite glanced sharply at him. "Ordinarily, every traveller must face the Crossing alone, but you may be able to stay together. Elaine and I ended up in the same memory-trial. We can try to stay together, but in the end the Crossing will decide."
"What happened?" Ned asked curiously.
Gavin's face tightened. "We were in Germany," he said shortly. Ned restrained his reporter's curiosity admirably, recognizing the end of that discussion.
Marguerite turned to look at Roxton, uncertainty written all over her face. The hunter understood immediately. Challenger reaffirmed his opinion that Roxton was perhaps the only person who could understand Marguerite. "I told you once that all your secrets would be safe with me. I mean it, Marguerite. And I'll wait as long as you need me to," he promised softly.
"Shall we go together?" she asked with a small smile.
Roxton grinned. "As you wish, my lady."
"Professor?" Gavin asked, turning to him.
"You young folk don't think you're going to leave me behind, do you?" Challenger scoffed. "As if I'd miss the opportunity! This Crossing of yours sounds fascinating. I was wondering if—"
"That's enough there, George," Marguerite interrupted fondly. Indeed, all four of his children were smiling now.
His mission accomplished, Challenger allowed his shoulders to slump a bit. "Very well. It seems that scientific inquiry is not foremost on your minds. No appreciation," he grumbled, eliciting more grins.
"Come on, old boy," Roxton jested. "You can explain it all to us after we get through."
"It's this way," Gavin said, turning to lead the explorers away from the camp. As they hiked through the jungle, Challenger began to hear the distinctive sound of running water. It quickly became clear the Gavin was leading them to a waterfall—and an enormous one at that. The sound was nearly deafening by the time they topped the ridge overlooking the falls.
Gavin waved at them, pointing out a narrow, winding path that led down the cliff side. Though not as experienced as Roxton or Veronica, Challenger could appreciate the ingenuity of the trail. Hidden from sight unless you stood directly on top of it, the path was cut into the rock. The explorers traversed the terrain cautiously, knowing that a single misstep would have them hurtling down into the thundering rapids below. After an agonizing downhill climb, they stood at the end of the trail, about halfway down the cliff.
Here Challenger was truly impressed. The trail cut behind the waterfall, hidden from sight by the arch of roaring waters above. Gavin pointed out the handholds carved into the rock; the path was wet and slippery. Slowly, very slowly, the explorers manoeuvred their way across the stone bridge. After a few minor, heart-stopping mishaps, they reached the other side safely.
A stone outcropping large enough to hold them all comfortably jutted out from the rock from what Challenger guessed was the centre of the falls. Carved into the cliff side was an enormous image of an ornate doorway, with an etching of Veronica's Trion nearly as large as Veronica herself in the centre. The jungle girl was staring at the symbol as if it would bite her. Examining the etching closer, Challenger saw that it was covered in runes he did not recognize. From the way Marguerite's eyes darted from rune to rune, however, it seemed that their resident linguist was having little problem with the strange symbols. As much as Challenger wanted to ask for a translation, he was having difficulty hearing his own thoughts above the clamour of the water below.
The explorers watched in fascination as Marguerite stepped forward and touched one of the runes. Under her hand, the rune began to glow blue. Reaching up, she touched another of the runes, and then another, until three runes were shining brightly. Marguerite stepped back, and they all watched in amazement as blue fire ran through every line of the etching until the entire doorway was drawn in blue flame.
Elaine moved forward to place her hand in the centre of the Trion, and with a flash the rock behind it disappeared. Beckoning the explorers, Gavin made a show of taking Elaine's hand in his own, and then offered his other hand to Marguerite as Elaine stepped through the gateway. Roxton entered next, followed by Ned and Veronica, all three with expressions blending stunned disbelief, amazement, and a little fear. Not about to be left behind and eager to leave the deafening roar of the falls behind, Challenger took Veronica's hand and followed the others through the gateway into Avalon.
Roxton glanced around in amazement. He was seated at the head of an enormous table in what appeared to be an ornate medieval hall. Rondoles Halle, he thought, surprising himself as the name suddenly sprang to mind. Shaking his head, Roxton began to search the room for Marguerite.
The blonde woman on his left smiled when she noticed his gaze. "Enjoying the banquet, dear?" she asked.
"Very much, my lady," Roxton replied courteously, falling back on his manners when his mind deserted him. Who is she? Where am I?
Her smile broadened, and though Roxton's heart did not clench as it did for Marguerite, he was not untouched by her exemplary beauty. "I thought that you would enjoy the respite, my lord."
Roxton nodded. "Thank you," he said, with as much sincerity as he could muster. The lady flashed him another brilliant smile, and then proceeded to continue her discussion with the man across from her, leaving Roxton to his thoughts.
He was not given much time to ponder the situation, however, for a moment later the large doors at the opposite end of the hall burst open with a boom. In rode a large man in full armour, with a belligerence in his face Roxton knew meant trouble.
A red-headed man seated on Roxton's right leapt to his feet in anger, and Roxton felt himself smile slightly. My brother Cai, still defending me thirty years later. Roxton blinked. Brother? Cai? "What is the meaning of this disturbance? Declare yourself, Stranger," Cai challenged.
The knight raised his visor to reveal burning hazel eyes. "I am Sir Galeron, the greatest knight in Galloway. I come with a challenge for your so-called 'High King,'" the strange knight thundered, glaring at Roxton. High King? "Connok, Conyngham, and also Kyle, Lomond, Losex, and the hills of Loyan you have taken from me by unjust tricks in war. My lands you gave to your nephew, but he shall never rule them whilst I live and breathe, unless he wins them in combat on a fair field," Sir Galeron declared, looking around in search of his rival. Failing to sight his enemy near him, the knight directed his hatred at Roxton again. "I propose a trial by combat, to the death. I will meet your champion; the winner will rule my lands."
All eyes turned to Roxton. He rose from his chair—from his throne, he realized with a start—to face Sir Galeron. "As you can see, you have interrupted our celebrations. We are unprepared for combat and have no champion ready. Nonetheless, you will be matched by noon tomorrow." Roxton was not entirely sure where his words were coming from; when he had opened his mouth, he had intended to refuse the challenge. "Therefore I advise you to rest for the night. Caradoc will show you to your pavilion."
A young page boy, presumably Caradoc, stepped forward bravely. "Sir Knight, if you would follow me," Caradoc asked politely. Nodding to Roxton, Sir Galeron followed the page out of the hall, leaving silence in his wake.
By unspoken consent, about twenty men rose from their seats to gather around Roxton while the ladies left the hall. Frowning in puzzlement, Roxton was about to speak but Cai beat him to it. "You cannot face this Galeron, brother, though I know you wish to defend the honour of your court." Roxton had been right: his brother here was Cai, not William, though he seemed just as intent on keeping Roxton out of trouble. "One of us must see to it that our honour is not lost. Who shall join in battle with the knight?"
"I will," a familiar voice said clearly. Roxton spun around to face a solemn Gavin Conway. "I give my hand in promise. I will fight this Sir Galeron tomorrow at noon in defence of my honour, by your leave, my lord." The others around him were nodding, but Roxton was of a mixed mind. Part of him wanted to forbid Gavin—if it was Gavin—from risking his life needlessly; another part, that part connected to this world, told him that this young man was both right and capable.
"You always were quick to defend our honour, nephew, but I would not see you lose your life for lordship over some land." A strange way to say "please don't," Roxton thought, but the sentiment was right.
Not that Gavin—his nephew?—listened. "I will be fine, uncle." The other knight supported him, and Roxton quickly found himself overruled.
"Very well," Roxton acquiesced. "Cai, please make sure that the lists are ready and that Sir Galeron is properly equipped for the contest. I wish to speak to my nephew before he retires. Until tomorrow, gentlemen." A little unsure of where he was going, Roxton followed the pathway that opened up for him amongst the knights, knowing that Gavin trailed him.
As soon as they were out of eyesight, his "nephew" grabbed him arm and pulled him aside. "Lord Roxton?"
Roxton breathed a sigh of relief. "Gavin Conway?"
The young man grinned. "It took you long enough to get here, uncle."
"Have you seen Marguerite?" Roxton asked anxiously.
The amusement left Gavin's face instantly. "Yes, and she's fine. I arrived here a few hours before you did. We were hunting in the forest, and when we returned, the ladies of the court were there to greet us. I was surprised when Marguerite stayed behind; I thought that she would run to you immediately, but she has a better grasp of this place than I do. She knew that it wasn't you. Still, she nearly had a fit when that blonde lady kissed the king."
"What are you talking about?" Roxton was now thoroughly confused.
"I don't know why, but Marguerite, Elaine, and I all arrived here about three hours before you did. You were my uncle, the king, until about halfway through the banquet."
"How did you know?"
"I didn't," Gavin admitted candidly. "Marguerite did."
At the mention of Marguerite, Roxton's mind snapped back on track. "Where is she?"
"This way," Gavin said, leading him down one corridor and then another. He glanced around, then opened one of the large wooden doors, ushering Roxton through quickly. He closed the door immediately, bolting it shut, leaving Roxton with more than a few questions. "Elaine? Marguerite?"
"John?" Roxton nearly fell over as he whipped around at the sound of her voice.
"Marguerite." His relief was almost palpable. Marguerite stood across the room, stunningly beautiful in a silken claret dress. "Thank God you're all right," he said fervently, covering the distance between them in seconds.
For a brief moment she melted into his embrace, her relief at finding him making Roxton's heart soar. All too soon, however, she pulled away insistently and without explanation. The regret in her blue-grey eyes was enough to pacify him, though he added another question to his ever-growing list.
"What happened?" Elaine asked her brother. Roxton blinked, noticing the girl for the first time.
"I accepted Galeron's challenge."
"You did what?" his sister hissed furiously. Roxton winced for Gavin. Marguerite and Elaine were unquestionably related.
"Tomorrow, at noon, I will fight Sir Galeron," Gavin replied calmly. "I'm not looking forward to it and I don't understand it, but just as you knew we should sit away from the High Table, I know that I must face Galeron. I'm sorry, Elaine," he finished softly.
The girl looked troubled. "Promise me that you'll come back," she said finally.
"I'll do my best, Elaine. I have the honour of Lord Roxton's court to defend, after all," he finished with a grin, eliciting a small smile from his sister.
"You had no objections to this?" Marguerite asked Roxton incredulously.
"No, and for the same reason that you don't either," he replied knowingly.
After a brief flash of anger in Marguerite's grey eyes, she relented. "He must defeat Sir Galeron if we are to leave here."
A small smile for his victory, and then Roxton moved on to the next problem at hand. "Have you seen Veronica, Ned or Challenger here yet?"
Marguerite shook her head. "They aren't here." She paused for a moment, and then continued. "And they're not coming, either." One glance at his face and she became irritated. "I don't know, so don't ask, Roxton. They're just not coming, all right?"
He just nodded. "So now what?"
"Now we all go to sleep because Gavin's going to fight some stupid knight in the morning," Marguerite snapped. "Come on, Elaine." The girl rose automatically, and Roxton growled.
"Elaine?"
"Yes, Elaine," Marguerite replied harshly. "Did you honestly think that I'd let you anywhere near me? You can't control—and there would be trouble." His hurt must have shown on his face, for her anger dissipated instantly and she frowned as if in confusion. Some realization flickered across her face, and her eyes shifted to a softer blue-green. They seemed to change colour faster here, Roxton noticed. "You don't…you haven't figured it out yet, have you?"
"Figured out what?" Now it was his turn to become irritated."Who you are. Who we are."
Blast Marguerite and her evasive answers. "I'm a king, Gavin's a knight and my nephew, and you're no lady," he retorted.
"You're right, I'm not a lady," Marguerite agreed mildly, deliberately ignoring his dig. "I'm a priestess."
"And a princess," Elaine added helpfully.
Marguerite searched his face for understanding and finding none, sighed. "You still don't understand, do you? I would have thought that you of all people—well, propriety demands that I introduce everyone to you."
"Your niece, Elaine of Orkney," she began before he could object. Elaine curtseyed; her white gown a stark contrast to Marguerite's deep red.
"And her brother, your nephew and greatest knight, Sir Gawain, Prince of Orkney," she continued, indicating Gavin with her hand. Roxton's eyes widened as the name finally registered. Gawain? But that's impossible!
Gavin, playing along, stepped forward and bowed. "My king."
Seeing the dawning recognition in his face, Marguerite hesitated for a moment.
Gavin took over for her. "And finally, may I present to your Majesty our aunt, the Lady Morgan of Avalon."
"Our aunt?"
"Yes, Roxton, pay attention," Marguerite said sharply, obviously unsettled. "I'm your aunt here, or your half-aunt anyway." Roxton began to laugh. "This is not funny, John! You're married, we're related, and if we don't find a bloody way out of here, I'll never see you again!"
Her genuine distress extinguished his amusement like an ocean of water on a candle flame. "Marguerite, I'm sorry," he began. "We'll get out of here, I promise. And even if we didn't, nothing on earth would keep me away from you."
Marguerite's nearly hysterical laughter was frightening. "I don't think you quite understand the situation, John. Don't you know who you are already?"
Frustrated, Roxton shut down all other trains of thought. He had not yet gotten an opportunity to think on this scenario; it had been simply action-reaction. I'm a king, a High King. Sir Gawain, Lady Morgan…? His head snapped up. "That's impossible. I can't be—"
"The greatest king this world has ever seen, the forever king, Arthur of Britain," Marguerite finished sadly.
A/N: Loosely based on the text of "The Awyntyrs off Arthur" with certain elements from my favourite Arthurian novels, The Road to Avalon, The Mists of Avalon, andThe Squire's Tale series (a children's comedy), twisted for my purposes. Read the actual text of "The Awyntyrs" at The Camelot Project at The University of Rochester.
