Disclaimer: I do not own any of the character names, save my own original creations. I do not wish to be compensated for this work, nor do I wish to infringe on any copyrights held by any stakeholders of the movie King Arthur. This work is an original creation, based on the legend of King Arthur and his Knights.


Chapter 17: Fostering Friendship

A few days later, Cerys was up and about, supervising the remainder of the tasks to do, to com­plete the harvest. Guinevere has given Brinn the task of helping her carry things, her hands not yet ready, and became her shadow as she moved about her duties.

Indeed, Cerys again felt useful. If Brinn caught her trying to pick up a basket, or move some­thing in the store rooms, he would gently pull her away, or grab the thing out of her hands. She would grin mischievously, and they would move on to the next area so she could check on the crews, hemm and haw over the drying millet, poke her nose into the kitchens to see how the preserving was coming. Brinn would puff out his chest and tell her to stop each time, the young boy playing the chivalrous knight as best he could.

Cerys liked Brinn. He was abouttwelve summers old, and was starting to fill out a bit. It would not be long before his father gave him a sword to use. The thought was both sad and happy, for she knew the boy wanted desperately to become a knight, but sad at the thought of his adult years being spent killing and fighting.

In truth, when Brinn prattled on to her, he spoke of nothing else other than being a knight as great as Arthur, as skilled as Lancelot, as strong as Bors. On and on he would talk about how he would be the best swordsman, the best rider. He exclaimed that he would have a horse as brave as Klyndd and they would kill Saxons together like no one had done before. Grand aspirations for a young squire, but it made him excited, and Cerys enjoyed the bubbling happiness that sprang forth from him.

As they spent time together, if Cerys could get a word in edgewise, it was a rare thing indeed.

"How long have you been Lancelot's squire, Brinn?" She managed finally, while they were walking out to the gardens to check on the squash.

He had a stick in his hands, and was running it along the saw grass at the edge of the road as they walked. He stopped, thought a moment, and counted on his fingers.

"Three, I 'fink." he said slowly.

Cerys nodded. She remembered that day. The knights had come home from a long, drawn-out battle, and Lancelot had lost his old squire, Yurri, in the fray. Lancelot felt the loss greatly; Yurri had been a surrogate father for him when he was young, and new to Britain. Arthur had no idea what to do, since there were no other men who could take over Yurri's duties. The other men in the stables offered up, but none could replace the quiet, older man. Lancelot decided he would just take care of his own horse and be done with it.

A few days later they had found Brinn in the stables, standing in Klyndd's stall, petting as far up the stallion's leg as he could, talking to him and prattling on about how pretty he was, how strong, how brave. The stallion, known for biting and kicking strangers, was carefully rubbing his upper lip in the boy's hair, a sleepy and peaceful look to his big liquid eyes, one hip rested contentedly. Lancelot had immediately employed the young boy to feed and care for the large horse. If the horse tolerated him, then it was a match, for the horse tolerated few except for Yur­ri, Lancelot and perhaps Jols, but only when tired from a gallop.

Since then, Brinn had followed the knight everywhere he could in the compound. At first, Lancelot was annoyed. Children were not really his idea of companionship, but, as Brinn did with everyone, he grew on the knight, and Brinn had done well for him, keeping Klyndd well fed and cared for. Eventually Lancelot had hired him on as squire, and Brinn became a fixture in the fort, toting armour as big as himself here and there for cleaning, fixing or preparing for his master to leave.

"Your father will give you a sword soon, won't he? You are almost old enough to begin your training, if you wish it." She added. She watched the boy, whom she expected to smile, frown and stab the grass with his stick harshly.

"I don't have a sword, or a father. My parents are gone."

Cerys walked over to the boy. Oh dear. Suddenly she understood why the boy had been so taken with Lancelot. Why had no one told her? She pursed her lips, crouched down and gently placed her right hand on his shoulder. He looked up to her, his face set in a scowl.

"Where do you live Brinn? I did not know... I'm so sorry."

He gulped, and she could see she had upset him, he was holding back tears as hard as he could. She remained where she was, and he abruptly dropped his stick, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She carefully wrapped hers around him, and held him as tight as she could. She had no idea what to do, this young boy hugging her fiercely was a very new sensation. She suddenly want­ed to comfort, and take care of him.

"I live in the stable loft. Lancelot gives me food." He said, sniffing and wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

"Well, Brinn, that isn't acceptable. I will help you find a better place to stay, and from now on, you will eat with the rest of the staff in the kitchens." She said back. "You are a knight's squire, soon to be in training! This will not do at all!"

She broke the hug and looked down to him, rising to her feet once more. He looked up to her, the dirt on his face now striped.

"You look like one of the animals in Arthur's books. I think it is called a zebra." She teased and brushed his cheek with her bandaged hand. He smiled. Good, she had gotten him to stop crying. The poor boy. She had no idea and her heart hurt at the thought of him being so alone, working so hard to please Lancelot. He would consider the knight to be a father-figure by now.

"What is a zebra?" He asked.

She began walking again, he followed, his hand on her wrist. She felt he needed to keep contact with her, but was so careful of her hands, and it was very touching to her, she held back tears of her own. They walked a few moments more to the gardens and she stopped at the first row of squash and bent down.

"Well, it's a horse with stripes!" She said, then had an idea. "How about I show you this evening! I have the book in my rooms; Arthur lent it to me before he left."

His face broke out beaming a smile. She smiled too. This was nice! She thought. It would be a lovely evening, he could hold the book for her and they could read together.

His face sobered quickly again. "But... I can't read."

"That's no matter, I will help you learn. I am learning too, and this winter, perhaps Lancelot will let you take time from your chores to read with me."

They continued with their chores then, Brinn rolling the large vegetables about so Cerys could see each side, deciding which ones should be picked, and which needed more time on the vine. They had finished two rows when Nimli joined them.

"Hello Brinn! Is Cerys keeping you out of trouble?" She teased as she ruffled his hair. All three laughed together, as in fact it was Brinn helping Cerys.

"You are needed back to the stable to bring in the mares; I can help Cerys for now."

Brinn nodded and got up from his spot in the garden.

"I can visit you after dinner hour tonight? You can show me a zebra?" He asked Cerys, his eyes happy and smiling.

Cerys nodded. "Of course. I will see you then."

The boy then ran off towards the fort, his bare heels kicking mud up behind him.

"That was nice of you, to offer to spend time with him." Nimli said as she rolled another squash close to her, peering at its green and yellow skin.

"I did not know he was an orphan. No one, not even Lancelot, ever mentioned it to me." She said quietly, looking in the direction Brinn had gone.

Nimli nodded. "He's a Pict. His father was killed when he was a baby... in a Roman raid. His mother died a few years ago. He came to the fort, with nowhere else really to go. We would find him in the loft of the barns sleeping and send him on his way but he always came back. It was Lancelot that really did save that boy."

Cerys nodded and grimaced. "I suppose everyone thought I was aware, but never really spoke of it, as it was considered common knowledge."

Nimli said nothing, just grimaced herself and they continued along the task that Cerys had start­ed with Brinn. Once finished, they walked arm in arm back towards the fort, talking of daily goings on, what needed to be brought up, or put into barrels.

Cerys was much more content. It felt like a weight had been taken off her shoulders, being able to talk to Guinevere and Lorina a few days before. She was still worried, still thinking on her knights, but, strangely, it no longer panicked her. She had even been sleeping at night! Her thoughts were calmer, and she realized now just how hard she had been working.

Cerys sat in the kitchens upon return and the women forced some bread and apple into her, twit­tering and clucking over her, telling her she must eat. She ate slowly and contemplated the day. Where would she find a place for Brinn? Lorina had no more room for children, and a whole apartment was not afforded to a twelve-year old boy. Did any of the stable men have room? Her thoughts engrossed her and she did not notice as Brinn joined her at the table she leaned against. He put his head into his hands and watched her, patiently waiting.

Cerys blinked and noticed the boy, pushing the remainder of her bread to him. He pushed it back, shaking his head. "No, you need to eat." He stated.

"Alright then. Have you eaten?" She asked as she carefully picked it up with her right hand and took another bite.

He nodded, his soft brown eyes following her. She smiled again. This boy could warm her heart like no other! She had never noticed him this well before now, and she wished she had not been so caught up in her own duties, for she could have been friends with him long before this. She made a decision then and there.

"Until you are able to find proper lodging for a knight in training, you will move your things into my rooms and stay with me. Would that be alright?" She said, rising to her feet from the bench she had been perched on.

He rose with her. The women, overhearing the conversation, turned and looked to the pair. A few of the women smiled. Nimli, hiding a grin behind her hand, whispered into one of the other women's ears.

"This will be more help for 'er than 'im I think, eh?" The other women nodded.

"Wonder what Lancelot will think, his squire living with his woman."

Nimli dug her elbow into the woman. "They aren't together... at least not yet. Both of them are too thick skulled to see it."

"Won't be long now I think." Another woman whispered and turned back to her duties. The oth­er women all slowly nodded and they too returned to their chores.

Brinn, at this point, had thrown his arms about Cerys, pinning her arms to her body. He would be taller than her in a summer, she thought, and she laughed as he thanked her over and over and over, squeezing with each word.

"Go then, get your things and come meet me outside. We will go see Hywel about getting a bar­racks bed delivered for you."

Brinn ran off quickly towards the stables and Cerys walked slowly outside. The evening was upon them, and the sunset was turning the clouds pink. She peered to the sky, thinking of the men, and where they were.

She wondered what Lancelot's reaction would be when he returned home to find her fostering his young squire. She was going to have words with him, letting him live in the stables! She pursed her lips. Well... once she got the nerve to. She could never stay mad at that man, no mat­ter what he had done. He would smile his sideways grin, hook an arm through hers and in a mo­ment she would be laughing at his joking. Damn... She moved an arm across her stomach and sighed. She missed him so much.

Brinn came skidding back, a small sack in his hands, jerking her out of her thoughts. She put an arm around him and they walked towards her rooms, talking and laughing.


Dear Reader:

Too often we neglect to see important things around us. For Cerys to see Brinn, she needed to first see herself. First Guinevere and Lorina, now Brinn, will help her heal. I think, we can also conclude, Lancelot is needed to make the perscription work properly.

Thank you for your continued time, and I look foward to your reviews,the fuel it gives me to write more. As I have said many times before, may your own pens never stop moving on the page.

Cardeia