Disclaimer: See part one
Salutare
"Lady, you should head inside!"
The Roman guard's voice floats above the pounding rain and howling wind precariously, and I have to strain to catch the words. I look up, squinting a little as the rain begins to fall on my now exposed face, and shout back, "I will not!" He recognizes the tone, and knows better than to argue with me. I am drenched to the bone, my heavy cloak with a hood doing nothing to protect me from the worst of Briton's weather. I look up again to see the guard motioning to his companion, both of them chuckling a little and shaking their heads. I know they are poking fun at me, but I ignore them.
Instead, I turn a glare on the gates themselves, hating the sight of them. Locked out, locked in, it's all the same to me. Those gates are the bane of my existence, and have been since I came here. They never open when I want them to and they always reveal the wrong person when they do. I cannot count the times that I have wished that they would open and reveal Arthur and his knights, only to wait in vain. I scowl a little, my mind shouting at those gates to open.
I have been waiting for days for Arthur and the knights to return. He had told me that it was a routine mission, that all they were doing was controlling a small Woad uprising. I had been skeptical, as their 'routine missions' always seem to sour rather quickly. He had given me a gentle smile and had assured me that they all would return in four days. I was helpless, as I usually am, and could only watch them leave. Four days have passed and now I wait for their return, waiting by the gates as I usually do. I am a familiar sight now to those who live here, and they no longer give me odd looks as they pass.
"Kate!" a voice calls, breaking me out of my frustrated thoughts. I turn and smile when I see Vanora approaching with her brood of children, most of who bicker amongst themselves at having to be out in the rain. She briskly tells them to wait under a little awning for shelter as she walks up to me, her face bright despite the miserable weather. I nod at her and say, "No sight of them yet." She raises an eyebrow and says, "I'm not surprised. How long have you been waiting?" I shrug a little, colour coming to my cheeks as I answer, "Quite awhile." She shakes her head and gently scolds me, saying, "You speak of health and how to avoid catching illness, and yet you insist on standing out in the rain with little to no cover to wait for men who might not even arrive? You baffle me Kate."
I can't help but laugh at what she says, having heard it dozens of times from her before. I look back at her children and wave at them, smiling when they wave back. I have been one constant presence in their lives, dropping in from time to time to visit with their mother, not to mention take care of their various illnesses, injuries and other various health concerns. Looking back on it all, I am baffled by some of the messes they've managed to make for themselves. One of the elder boys has managed to get himself hurt in the most creative ways.
Just as I lower my hand, the youngest girl of the brood runs out into the rain, ignoring her siblings' calls to come back. She runs to me and throws her arms around my waist, beaming up at me brightly. I pat the top of her head and say, "Hello there." She narrows her pretty dark eyes and says, "You haven't been by in so long." Her voice is slightly accusatory as she says it, and I can't help but feel guilty. I look down at the child that I have grown to care for so much and apologetically say, "I had much business, child, and I am sorry for it. But if your mother doesn't mind, you might be able to accompany me on my visits sometime soon." Her little face lights up and she looks to her mother immediately, the most adorable look on her face. Her mother laughs a little as she nods, and the little girl lets out a delighted shriek, hugging her mother around the legs and almost knocking her down.
The girl runs back to the shelter as soon as she releases her mother, calling to the others and bursting with pride. I smile after her fondly, having always had a soft spot for the girl. As the youngest girl, she was born at a disadvantage. Her older brothers and sisters pull and push for Vanora's attention constantly, and when Bors is around, his attention is usually focused on his sons. I have tried to make up for it all, and because of my attention she has latched onto me. I have always shied from calling her by her number, which is ten. Instead I call her 'girl' or 'little one', anything except her number.
"You are sure you do not mind?" I ask Vanora, wanting to be absolutely sure. She nods at me, her voice suddenly very tired as she says, "It will be a great help to me." I place a hand on her shoulder, concerned as I spot tears in her eyes. Her face is transformed by shame for a moment when she confesses, "I am having a hard time with them all. They are always into trouble, or they are after me for attention, and I find I am having less and less patience for them. I… I hate Bors sometimes for not being there… does that make me wicked?" I raise an eyebrow and say, "No, it does not make you wicked. It makes you smart. What woman wouldn't react that way, given your circumstances?" She smiles at me, looking relieved, and I give her a reassuring smile.
"You are a strong woman, Vanora. You will work things out." I tell her confidently. She gives a little chuckle and says, "I am not as strong as you, Kate." I draw back at this, blinking in surprise. She laughs at my expression and says, "Yes Kate, you are strong. To be doing what you do, to have the life you have… I envy you." I look away from her then, and before I can help myself I whisper, "You should not envy me Vanora." I look back at her to see her face become puzzled. She has no time to question me as the guards call down to us that there are riders approaching. My heart beats faster, as it always does when they return, and I find myself shifting my weight from foot to foot impatiently.
The gates are slowly opened by the guards and I can't help the broad smile that crosses my lips as the knights come thundering into the fortress, spraying mud and water as they do. Their sudden arrival attracts attention immediately, and I am not pleased in the least when I see that they have attracted young women as well. They pull their horses into a halt only a few feet away from us, and I feel overwhelmingly pleased when I hear Lancelot call out in a jovial tone, "Where is Kate?" I clear my throat and call back, "Here I am!" I rush towards him and blush a little when he says, "My, Kate. You look better every time I see you." He has that devilish look on his face, the same one I've seen hundreds of times before when he teases me. He holds open his arms and I practically throw myself at him, hugging him tight. He hugs me back just as tightly, and I savor the feeling.
"Are you alright?" I ask at a murmur, relaxing even further when he says that he is well. A grin comes to my face as I say, "Good, then go and bathe. You smell." He pulls back to make a face at me, but there is a light in his eyes. He turns then to see to his horse and I face the others, almost unable to contain my joy at seeing them all. I let out a little squeak when Gawain wraps his arms around me boisterously, spinning me a little as he says, "A sight for sore eyes!" I ask him if he is well too and he steps back, lifting his arms in the air announcing, "I am well, Kate." I give a little sigh of relief and murmur, "Good." He gives me another squeeze and then moves to greet Jols, though not nearly as eagerly as he greeted me.
I greet and carefully examine all of the knights, each of them tolerating my routine questions with a patient smile. When I hug Tristan, he discreetly murmurs to me that his fingers have been giving him trouble, and I whisper back for him to visit me whenever he wishes. When he moves to retrieve his things from the back of his saddle, I notice how he flexes his fingers slowly, as if trying to work the ache from them. I glance to my left and smile as I see Bors and Vanora locked in a very passionate kiss, fairly ignoring the multitude of children clamoring at them as they do, demanding Bors' attention.
My smile fades almost instantly when Lancelot passes by them, breaking apart their tender moment by reaching out and patting Vanora on the bottom, startling her away from her lover's kiss. He gives her a look that borders on obscene as he chuckles, winking at Bors as he glares fiercely after the lusty knight. I am startled by the pain that makes a sudden appearance in my heart at the scene, and I find myself deeply disturbed by it all. I turn away, trying to block everything out and struggling to regain my smile.
"He has gotten worse, I think." Arthur says as he approaches me, an amused smile on his face. I give him a look and say, "I believe he has." At my tone, Arthur looks at me, alerted by the distaste he hears. His own voice is soothing as he says, "I do not believe that he means it. I think he does it to tease Bors more than anything." His expression shifts slightly, and I spy a knowing look creeping across his features, as if he is privy to something I am not. I flush deeply without truly knowing why, and stammer, "I-It is no business of mine." I force the smile back onto my lips and lightly say, "I daresay Lancelot will never change." Arthur returns the smile, although he appears slightly puzzled at the same time.
The rain has long since stopped, and the ground is littered with puddles of all shapes and sizes. The children are attracted to them, and predictably they leap into them, splashing everyone within the immediate area. Adults watch them with indulgent looks on their faces as they play, and a few of the younger ones look on wistfully, as if wishing they could join in. The women, who had been actively trying to get the knight's attentions, finally admit defeat and wander off in pairs, quietly lamenting their failure to entice one of them.
The knights now heading in all different directions, I decide to head back inside and change, suddenly painfully aware of the cold. Arthur and I excuse ourselves and head in opposite directions. I quickly head to my room, now uncomfortable, and as soon as I have privacy I begin to divest myself of my clothing, dropping it all into a pile at my feet. I change into dry, warm clothes and comb my fingers through my still soaking hair, trying to make myself presentable again.
It is at that moment when there is a knock at my door, a soft knock, almost hesitant. Thinking that it is probably a villager, or possibly Tristan, I absently call for them to enter. When Gawain's voice greets me, I turn to face him with a puzzled smile, asking, "Gawain? I thought you said you were alright?" He nods and tells me, "I am quite well. Do not fuss, Kate. I came by to give you a gift." I blink in surprise and repeat, "A gift?" He chuckles and says, "Yes Kate, a gift. You look surprised." I tilt my head to one side and say, "I am surprised. It is very… unexpected." He strides over to me then and hands me a bundle, tied tightly around the top. It is big enough that I have to hold it in two hands. I set it down on my table and, at his encouragement, open it. When I undo it, the bundle spills open, revealing bunches of various herbs and dried flowers. I let out a little cry and excitedly say, "There is so many… oh Gawain, this is perfect!"
I embrace him briefly before examining them all closely, murmuring, "I will not have to go out and gather more for at least a month now." I look up at him and ask, "What made you do this, Gawain?" He shrugs and replies, "I thought you might like it." I smile at him again and softly say, "I do Gawain. Thank you so much." He waves off my words, looking a little flustered, and I return to sorting the gift, unable to keep the pleased grin from my face. Gawain looks around my room, acting as if he had never stepped foot in here before, and then says, "I have heard that you have been very busy since last we saw you." I make an affirmative noise and tell him, "Mainly with Otri. You know of him, do you not?" He nods, though his voice is slightly uncertain as he says, "The old man with the goats?" I nod and say, "He is going mad, I think. He now insists on sleeping with his 'beloved'."
"He has a lover?" Gawain asks me, sounding incredulous. I laugh out loud at this and say, "No. His beloved is a goat." Gawain laughs at this, and I laugh with him, unable to help myself. Gawain has always had the most wonderfully infectious laugh, starting in the pit of his belly and rising up to his throat. Once the laughter pauses, he asks, "Have you been able to help him?" I scowl now, though it is not particularly fierce and mutter, "He will not let me near him. The man claims I am the spawn of a demon, or some such thing."
"Our Kate, the spawn of a demon?" Gawain repeats, humour in his tone, "Never!" I lightly hit him on the shoulder, knowing that he is teasing me and say, "It is not funny, Gawain." He nods at me, but he does not remove that little grin from his face. I have missed him terribly, as I always do when they all go away. I do not know how I will handle being away from them all forever in barely seven day's time. I shiver a little, sobered by my thoughts, and the movement is caught by Gawain's sharp eyes.
"What ails you Kate?" he asks me, his voice deep with concern. I heave a little sigh and softly admit, "As much as I want us all to be free… I fear my heart will be sick for missing you all." He gives me a sad little smile and gently says, "I understand."
After a moment of silence, I look up at him and ask, "Do I want to know?" It is a question that I ask every time they return from a mission. Sometimes I want to know what happened on their adventures, and as I listen, I sometimes imagine myself with them, riding into glorious battle at their side. Other times, however, I don't want to hear about the gratuitous blood and pain that always accompanies such stories. When he shakes his head at me, I make a face and say, "I thought so." I try my best not to imagine what happened.
"I did not intend to make you melancholy, Kate." Gawain says his voice uncharacteristically serious. I force a smile onto my lips and say, "The fault lies not with you, Gawain. I apologize." He searches my eyes for a moment before relaxing. We exchange some more idle chat while I begin to prepare the herbs and dried flowers. He leaves some time later, and when he does, my heart feels lighter. Gawain has always had that effect on me. His personality makes it nearly impossible for me to stay upset around him for long, something that irks me to no end when he makes me angry.
I find that with my spirits lifted from anxiety, I am happier and smile to myself often. I do more work in one day than I usually do in two, including making a few calls to various people. By the time night comes, I am tired, but in a pleasant way that I take to mean I have accomplished much. I have no nightmares, and find sleep comes easily. I can rest now, knowing that they are all safe within the fortress walls.
I wake early the next morning, feeling refreshed and eager to begin a new day. I dress quickly, and then attempt to tame my mess of curls as I run through the things I need to accomplish today. I pack my bag to the brim with remedies and then walk out the door into the fresh morning air. It is strange to be awake so early that the only sound I can hear clearly is the sound of birds singing their lovely songs into the morning air. My heart sings with it, though its song is bittersweet. It sings a song of freedom just over the horizon.
Though it is still early, I head over to where Vanora and the children are. Today seems the perfect day to fulfill my promise to the little girl. I peek my head in through the door only to see the family lying all over the place like dead bodies. I would truly believe that were it not for the occasional snore and the restless tossing and turning of more than one of the children. I press my lips together tightly to keep from laughing and then enter the home, maneuvering around the bodies on tip toe, trying to be as silent as possible. When I finally reach Vanora, who is sprawled on her back with her mouth wide open, I really have to fight the laughter that threatens to bubble out of me. I truly see now why Bors is so attracted to her. I shake my head a little and then lean over, touching her shoulder.
Instantly she is awake, sitting upright so fast that I gasp in surprise. She looks around in confusion for a moment before her eyes settle on me. When she sees me she groans, lying back down and rasping, "No, this is not happening. Kate is not here, it is impossible. It is far too early." I sigh a little and say, "I am going out, and I want to take the girl with me. I did promise her." Vanora sighs and turns over, mumbling, "Go ahead. Just leave." I shake my head a little at her and then turn, looking for the little girl. I smile brightly when I see her looking at me already, a very excited look on her face. I motion for her to get up, quickly raising a finger to my mouth when she makes a little too much noise. She gets ready, and then follows me outside, careful not to wake her brothers and sisters.
Once we are outside, I turn to her and crouch, looking her right in the eyes. I pull my face into a serious expression and solemnly say, "Now there is something you must promise me, little one. Today will be a very busy day, and I shall need your solemn promise that you will uphold your office as honorary healer as best as you can." Her eyes widen, and her voice is almost awed as she repeats, "Honorary healer?" I nod and cannot help my smile when I see the look of pride wash over her. She holds out her tiny little hand and says, "I swear, Lady Kate." I shake her hand, straightening up, and then tell her, "The first thing you must know is that no matter what anyone says, no matter how old or important they may be, you must trust your own instincts first."
"Why?" she questions, listening to what I am saying with rapt attention. I glance down at her and say, "If you can't trust your own instincts, then what can you count on?" She accepts this, and I continue, "If you find your remedy does not work, or that it actually makes the problem worse, then seek outside sources. You mustn't cling to pride when health is in question." I pause for a moment, wondering if this information is too much for a child of six, yet her face is very serious and accepting. I marvel at her maturity for a moment before continuing, "Many people do not believe that women are capable of being healers-"
"Why?" she asks again, looking up at me with a little frown on her face. I sigh a little, trying to keep the bitterness from my voice as I answer, "Because some people do not want to see women as capable of handling such things. It threatens everything that they know; that they are comfortable with… do you understand?" She nods and I softly continue, "Most people's definition of a woman will differ from yours and mine…."
Life is just beginning to show in the fortress rounds, the sounds of assorted animals reaching my ears. I am greeted by some people who pass and I nod at them in return, offering a small smile. A woman passes, a bag of apples hoisted onto her back. She greets me warmly, thanking me for helping her with her cough, and then offers both the little girl and I an apple. We accept the gift gratefully and take our leave. I often catch the girl watching my movements, copying them dutifully. I struggle to keep the grin from my face as I take her further away from her home.
When we reach the first home, which is no more than a mean little hovel, held together (it appears) by string. Before announcing myself, I crouch down in front of the little girl again and say, "A woman named Thuilo lives here, and she suffers from burns on her hands and a little on her face. It was an accident, I was told. Now I need you to promise that you will not stare. She is very sensitive about her appearance, and I do not know what she would do if you stared." The little girl nods solemnly, looking so much older than her young years.
Upon entering the hovel, I can immediately tell that Thuilo's spirits haven't been lifted since I last saw her. The home is a mess, pottery and food scattered all over the tables and even on the floors. There is dust on many other items, something that I have never seen in her home before. Thuilo usually takes such pride in her home, and to see it in such disarray is very concerning. My eyes adjust to the dark light and I make out Thuilo's form sitting at the far end of the table. Her eyes are focused solely on the top and her head is bent, hiding her face from view.
"Good morning Thuilo." I say, keeping my voice even and level. She doesn't move, nor does she answer. I move closer to her, motioning for the little girl to follow, and tell her, "I've brought a balm… it might help with any irritation you might feel…."
"It doesn't matter." Thuilo finally says, her voice so heavy with sorrow that I find my own heart dampening. I pause for a moment and then say, "It does, Thuilo. If you do not use it, it might get worse." She flinches at this, raising her head, and I begin to rummage through my bag, looking for the balm. When I find it, I hand it to her and say, "Here. Promise me you'll use it Thuilo." She makes a vague noise, yet when her reddened and inflamed fingers wrap around the little container, she does not move to throw it, as she has in the past. Instead she brings it to her face and mumbles something. The words are not directed at anyone in particular, yet I know that she will listen to me.
Sensing that she wants to be alone now, I turn on my heel and head towards the door, the little girl right on my heels. Just as we reach the doorway she calls out, "Thank you." I pause for a moment, allowing myself a small, sad smile, and call back, "You are welcome." I head back out into the sun, not surprised in the least when the little girl grabs a handful of my dress and tugs gently, whispering, "Why was she acting like that?" I continue walking in silence for a moment before answering, "She was a great beauty once. Now she thinks that her worth is diminished by her scars."
I am about to head to the next home when I hear my name shouted from afar. I groan, tilting back my head and muttering to myself, "Not today…." In the next second my thin arm is seized by one large, rather sweaty one, and a familiar voice gasps, "Thank the gods I found you Kate. It is happening again." I turn to face the red-haired woman and tiredly say, "Madam, I have told you often, there is nothing I can do for him." She gives me a rather disgusted look and says, "I need your assistance. Help me restrain him. Give him more of that tea." I frown a little and mutter, "'That tea' is not just-"
"You must come!" she cries, interrupting me effectively. I allow her to pull me along, though I mildly protest the grip she has on my arms. Her fingernails are like claws in my skin. The little girl follows us a little hesitantly, and I cannot blame her in the least. Otri's wife is no wilting flower. She resembles rampaging bear, I would say.
I can hear Otri from where I am, and I am not the only one. A crowd has gathered by his home, more specifically, by his pen. I can immediately tell that this will not be a pleasant encounter. He is howling at the top of his lungs, mainly gibberish, and I can only imagine what must have set off this particular attack. The crowds part for Otri's wife and I, and I find myself dragging my heels in the mud, trying to delay this encounter for as long as possible. Despite my best efforts, Otri's wife manages to force me to the fence where I finally lay eyes on the man that I have come to call the bane of my existence.
I believe it is either old age or simply madness that has claimed the man. He falls into certain fits occasionally, and it is simply impossible to reason with him once he does. He is suspicious of everyone, including his wife, and this suspicion has led him to alienate everyone… except for his goats.
He spies me as soon as I reach the fence, and in that moment, I wish I hadn't come out of my room today. He is in the middle of the pen, kneeling in the mud next to his 'beloved'. He is simply filthy, his hair even caked with mud. The only thing that seems clean is his eyes. Unfortunately for me, they are clean of reason as well. His thin fingers are curled around the goat's muzzle, holding her still. The entire scene is so absurd that part of me wonders if I'm still dreaming. As soon as his eyes land on me he bears his teeth, hissing my name like a cat. I scowl a little as he somehow manages to find the gall to call me the spawn of a demon. My scowl deepens when his wife begins to poke at me in a very irritating way, nudging me as she demands, "Well… fix him!" I sigh and say, "I cannot Madam. I have told you before-"
"Do something!" she barks, her glare leaving no room for argument. I raise my eyes to the sky and ask the gods for assistance before looking back to her and growling "Watch the girl." She makes a movement as if to protest, but I shake my head at her curtly. She stops in mid-movement, her eyes pinned on my form as I make my way into the pen, muttering to myself, "This is ridiculous." Otri's eyes widen as I approach him, and I try to make myself as non-threatening as possible. The goat turns its head to look at me, and I shiver a little. I could almost swear that it too glares at me.
"I will not let you take us, demon girl!" Otri rasps, lifting a gnarled finger to point at me. I pause then, and say, "I am not here to take anyone." He hacks out a laugh at my words and wildly responds, "I shall vanquish you!" I give a little snort and mutter under my breath, "With what, your goat?" Out loud I say, "There is no need to be afraid, Otri."
He barks out a laugh once more, and seems to be incensed by my words, cackling, "You give yourself away demon! How else could you know my name but through black magic?" I heave a heavy sigh and answer, "Quite easily, since you see me almost everyday Otri." He is silent at this, yet he still stares at me suspiciously, his fingers stroking the goat absently. The animal still has one eye fixed on me, and seems quite perturbed by my presence. I take a step forward, calmly saying, "Your wife is alarmed by your behavior, and wishes for you to come inside." He remains silent, though he purses his lips as though pouting.
It is then, in a movement that by all rights should never be attempted by a man his age, he suddenly reaches down, seizes a rather large clump of mud and flings it at me, shrieking loudly enough to startle the spectators. I flinch as the mess meets its target, splattering me across my face, neck and chest. My already tenuous hold on my temper is shattered, and I find myself reacting without really thinking. I raise a hand, pointing at him, and growl through clenched teeth, "You speak true, Otri. I am a demon. And so help me if you do not do exactly as I say, I shall make you suffer! Stand down or… or I shall strike your goat with the most terrible malady I can think of!"
He blanches at this, grabbing onto his goat tightly. The goat gives a rather indignant bleat at this, fixing that eye on its master. Otri glares at me in silence, jumping a little when I shout in warning, "So help me, Otri!" His shoulders slump and I take this as a sign of acceptance. I creep forward until I am within range of him. His smell, mingling unpleasantly with the smell of the goat, wafts to my nose and I try not to make a face of disgust, though it takes much will. I reach into my bag and retrieve a vial, handing it to him and saying, "Take this." He sniffs at the thing, his face mashed into a look of distaste. When I snap at him, he obediently downs the liquid, his look of distaste increasing tenfold.
When he has downed it all, I smile at him, pleased at my victory, and say, "There. That wasn't so bad." He simply holds out the vial for me to retrieve. I reach out to take it from him, and as soon as I do the goat decides that it has had enough. I barely have time to blink before it has lunged at me. I howl in pain as the thing latches onto my hand, two of my fingers disappearing into its mouth. When the yellowed teeth release my hand, the old man cackles gleefully and suddenly bolts away from me and into the house. Sputtering in rage, I am completely immobilized, cradling my hand to my chest as I watch his wife run in after him, her large body also disappearing inside.
Finally, I manage to speak, and the first words that pop out of my mouth are, "You cantankerous old fart! You planned the whole thing, didn't you?!"
[Next time]
The days leading up to freedom see many more questions arise.
[PS- I am having a little struggle on a simple question. Should I have her accompany them on that fateful last mission, or not? I would have her go along, but I don't want it to go over the same scenes as the movie YET AGAIN and leave people bored. Plus, I don't know that it would be a wise choice considering the direction I've chosen for the character. Anyway, any suggestions would be much appreciated. Thanks again to all reviewers.]