here you go, duckies, sorry for the wait
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When they finally arrived at Gaius Tullius' lands, both Lady Misery and the company were beside themselves with joy. The last leg of the journey had been torturous—the Roman girl moaned endlessly about her 'abominable treatment' (the knights had refused to share their rations with her), the general 'disrespect' (Arthur finally told her to shut up) and expressed a heartfelt desire to die. Codi thought that this was wonderful news since every single one of the knights fostered a heartfelt desire to kill her. But, alas, Arthur would not permit it. Although Codi could have sworn that he was battling with himself when he made the decree.
They rode into the village to find its inhabitants busily decorating their homes with flowers and vines and setting up the May Pole for the next morning. Codi wrinkled her nose. She wasn't looking forward to spending the night sitting alone in front of the fire while everyone else was having a good time.
Suddenly Codi had a thought. Who said she had to stay inside? She could spend the night in the woods with Shasa. And it was a warm night...perhaps she'd go swimming. Yes. Yes, that was what she would do. She wouldn't spend the night hiding. She'd have a good time this year. Even without—male companionship. Especially without male companionship.
Gaius Tullius met them at the entrance to his castle with a broad smile and open arms. Oddly enough, his presence accomplished what even Arthur could not—Lady Misery shut her trap and sat quietly, hands folded demurely in front of her. Codi rolled her eyes and glared daggers at the girl.
"Two-faced little snipe," she growled to Tristan. "What are the chances of her choking on something at dinner tonight and dying?"
Tristan considered this. "There's hope yet."
"I suppose it would be churlish of me to put a spider in her food," Codi remarked.
"Churlish and immature," Tristan assured her. "But entirely understandable."
"Ah, well, I can fantasize," she sighed.
"Cheer up," her friend replied. "After tonight, you never have to see her—or hear her—ever again."
"Except at the wedding," Codi grumbled. "Remind me why we're staying?"
"Arthur feels it would be rude not to," Tristan snorted, indicating his feelings on the subject. "And, anyway, I plan on sleeping through the wedding. So I don't know about you, but tonight is the last time I will see or hear Lady Misery."
"An excellent point," Codi conceded. "Bearing that in mind, I will try my very hardest not to accidentally spill my wine all over her or shove her face first into the stew or quietly push her down a well and leave her to rot or--"
"Codi."
"Yes?"
"Shut up."
"What, am I giving you too many tantalizing ideas?" Codi asked. "Afraid you won't be able to contain yourself?"
"Yes, exactly," Tristan agreed, completely serious.
"Look," Codi said in a hushed voice, pointing to where Lady Misery was being escorted into the castle. "There she goes."
There was a moment of silence until the lady and all her attendants were out of earshot, then all the knights grinned at one another.
"Cheers, lads," Galahad laughed. "This calls for celebration."
"To the tavern?" Gawain suggested.
"To the tavern," Lancelot agreed heartily. "I could use a drink after that trip—and more besides."
"Starting early, Lancelot?" Bors joked. "It's Beltane—you've all night for that, lad!"
"It's never too soon, my friend," Lancelot replied, wagging a finger at him. "Nothing wrong with getting a head start."
Codi, who didn't usually join her comrades at the tavern, decided that the situation demanded a deviation from the norm. So, after they cared for their mounts, they all trouped down to the nearest tavern for a drink—and more besides, in Lancelot's case.
Codi settled herself between Tristan and Bors and sipped her wine, ignoring her friends' comments about her weak choice of beverage. They all drank mead or ale, both of which Codi found revolting. Codi watched quietly as the scene unfolded. It was as she expected: Gawain and Galahad were dicing with Lancelot, who had two girls in his lap while a third played with his curls. Arthur sat next to him, but was in deep conversation with Dagonet about something very serious, no doubt. Bors seemed very happy to simply sit and drink. Tristan leaned back against the wall and took a swig of ale occasionally.
Codi looked around and suddenly noticed Brenna hovering in the doorway. She looked somewhat lost and more weary than Codi had realized on the journey. The girl glared around defensively as challenging looks were thrown her way by the tavern wenches. Feeling a pang of guilt for forgetting her, Codi got up and tapped Arthur on the shoulder.
"Arthur, who do I ask to show me to my room?" she asked. "I think Brenna could do with a bath and a clean bed. She looks dead on her feet."
Arthur winced. Clearly he had forgotten her, too. "Just walk in—there's always someone to handle visitors. Tell them you're one of my company."
"Thank you." Codi made her way over to Brenna and smiled. "You know, a hot bath does wonders after a long ride."
"I haven't money for a room," Brenna muttered, looking away.
"You're staying with me," Codi informed her. "So we don't impose on the lady's hospitality overmuch or spend money on a room."
"Oh," Brenna said, looking very much relieved, and followed Codi back up to the castle.
A housekeeper-ish sort of servant showed them to their room with a lack of curious and horrified staring that Codi found refreshing. It had taken the village people and servants at the wall a week to stop staring at her wherever she went and were still slightly uncomfortable with her. The servant cheerfully agreed to send up a bath and curtsied before bustling off.
"Gawain said that you have a wolf," Brenna said suddenly. "Where is it?"
Once again taken aback by Brenna's blunt manner, she replied, "In the woods. He stays with me at the Wall, but people know him there. I don't want him getting shot by accident."
Brenna nodded in understanding. "How did you tame him?"
"I didn't," Codi said, flopping down on the bed. "He's...special."
Brenna's brow creased, but she didn't press. Changing the subject, she asked, "What will you do all night? Since you won't spend it with a man, I mean."
"I thought I might go swimming, actually," Codi shrugged. "It should be warm enough."
"Won't you be lonely?"
"I'll have my wolf to keep me company," Codi told her. "And besides, I'm used to spending the night alone. Why should tonight be any different?"
"Because we're celebrating the union of the Lord and Lady," Brenna said sternly. "Even if you can't sleep with a man, you could at least spend the night with a friend."
Codi smiled. "I think the Lady will forgive me. What of you? Do you have someone special in mind?"
"Um—not really, no," Brenna said, clearly uncomfortable. Codi blinked. Brenna had been so frank about everything; she hadn't expected shyness.
"You're lying," Codi informed her, not needed the itchy feeling in her mind to tell her so. "Come on, I won't laugh."
"I'm not afraid of you laughing," Brenna mumbled. "I just...he said that—that you were betrothed, once. I didn't want--"
"Gawain?" Codi asked, surprised. She frowned for a moment, unsure of how she felt about this, but then smiled reassuringly at the younger girl. "It's alright. That was a long time ago and nothing came of it. I'm happy for you—he's a good man."
"Well, it's not as if I'm going to marry him, either," Brenna muttered. "It's Beltane, that's all."
Codi left Brenna to her bath when the water arrived and explored the halls aimlessly. When she heard a loud and all-too-familiar voice raised in petulant anger, her first instinct was to run away, but she stayed and listened, concentrating on what was being said. Apparently, Lady Misery had had a 'little snack' and now suffered from indigestion. Struck by a scrumptiously evil thought, Codi approached the room and waved cheerfully to the harassed looking maid who was exiting the room.
"What's wrong with her?" she asked casually.
"Stupid cow's blubbering about stomach pains and 'impaired bowel movements'," the maid huffed. "I don't know why she's surprised—after eating that much, of course none of it is going to come out properly. Fat pig; serves her right."
"How extremely upsetting," Codi murmured. "I'll wager she'd feel much better if she had her insides cleaned out—you know, if her—er, impaired bowels—were helped along a bit."
"I do believe you're right," the maid said in tones of vast enlightenment. A cruel smile lit the girl's face as she scampered away. "Poor dear—she does sound uncomfortable, doesn't she?"
"She ate quite a lot," Codi called after her. "Drastic measures might be necessary."
Filled with virtue—how nice it was to solve someone's problems—Codi strolled back toward her room to take her own bath and get dressed for the welcoming feast. Brenna was already clad in serviceable dress given her by the cheerful housekeeper, who had generously taken away Brenna's clothes to be washed.
"What are you so cheerful about?" Brenna asked suspiciously.
"Oh, nothing," Codi said, and slipped into the tub. It was still warm. "Will you be eating with us?"
"Oh, no—I'll eat with Geillis—the housekeeper—in the servant's wing," Brenna told her. She scrutinized Codi as she scrubbed vigorously at her hair. "What are you wearing to the feast?"
"What I came in," Codi replied. "It's not all that dirty."
"You can't go in trews," Brenna cried, aghast.
"Why not?" Codi asked, surprised. "I haven't worn a dress in more than a year. What's so special about a single meal?"
"It's a formal occasion," Brenna insisted. "Have you a dress? If not, I'll call Geillis and see if she can't find something."
"That's ridiculous," Codi snapped. "I'm a warrior, not a lady."
"Lady or warrior, you're still a woman," Brenna retorted, sounding eerily like a Vonora. "And you need a dress. The lord will be insulted—it will reflect badly on your commander as well as you."
"Brenna, I am not wearing a dress," Codi told her firmly.
"We'll just see about that," Brenna sniffed, and swept out of the room.
"That's rich," Codi snorted. "The would-be prostitute is lecturing me on propriety."
Codi was still splashing about in the tub when Tristan appeared in the doorway. Apparently oblivious to the fact that Codi wore not a stitch, he made himself comfortable in the chair next to her bed. Codi frowned at him for a moment, then shrugged. Nothing important was exposed—and anyway, it was just Tristan.
"A little bird told me that there has been a disagreement over what you will wear to the feast," he informed her.
"Aye," Codi shrugged. "But it's been resolved. I'm wearing what I came in, same as the rest of you."
"I think Brenna's right."
"Pardon?" Codi asked politely, certain that she'd heard wrong.
Tristan sighed. "Codi, not everyone in the world is as...free-thinking as Arthur is. They're already upset that you're part of the company, but it's none of their business, really. But appearing at their feast wearing leggings and tunic—it would be rubbing it in their faces. I'm not saying that it's right or fair, but life isn't, is it? Humor them for a couple of hours—is wearing a dress really that big a price to pay to make Arthur's life a little easier?"
Codi scowled, knowing that she was caught.
"I'll have Brenna find you a dress," Tristan said, getting up. "I'm sure the lady can loan--"
"That won't be necessary," Codi said brusquely. "I have one."
Tristan raised his eyebrows but wisely did not say anything as he handed Codi a towel and left. Brenna came to find Codi struggling with the laces on her dress—the one good one that Vonora had insisted she keep.
"Here, let me," Brenna said, swatting Codi's hands away. She made quick work of the laces and stepped back to survey the result. "You look quite nice, you know—but we need to do something with your hair."
"Why can't I just braid it?" Codi whined. "I'm wearing the bloody dress, what more do you want?"
"Nothing fancy, I promise," Brenna coaxed, and pushed Codi down into a chair before she could resist.
Codi grumbled but surrendered to the inevitable. A few minutes later, Brenna came around in front of Codi to assess her work. She gave a brisk nod and stepped back.
"Can I go now?" Codi groused.
"What's that?" Brenna asked curiously, pointing to Codi's wrist.
"My cousin gave it to me," Codi said defensively. "I'm not taking it off."
"Fine, fine," Brenna said, flapping her hands. "Go on, you'll be late."
"It won't be my fault if I am," Codi muttered.
"Yes it will—we'd have been done sooner if you hadn't argued."
Codi slammed the door shut in answer and trudged down the stairs to the hall. Arthur sat with Gaius Tullius at the head of the table, while his knights evidently were elsewhere. Codi scanned the room until she spotted her friends. Taking a deep breath she strode quickly across the hall and plopped down between Tristan and Lancelot. Converstaion stopped. Codi became very interested in the tabletop, refusing to raise her eyes.
"What are you lot staring at?" Gawain said, coming to Codi's rescue. "You've all seen Codi in a dress before."
Codi shot him a grateful glance across the table and accepted a goblet of wine from a servant. The rest of the knights shrugged and returned to whatever it was they had been talking about. It took Codi a few minutes to relax, but when she did, things were just like normal.
"I wonder where Lady Misery is," Galahad remarked, using Codi's name for her. "It's her welcoming feast, after all."
Gawain, sitting across from her, was in a prime position to see the satisfied smirk that crossed Codi's face.
"What do you know that we don't?" he asked suspiciously.
Codi's smile widened.
"What have you done now?" Galahad asked, half apprehensive and half eager.
"Me?" Codi asked innocently. "I didn't do anything."
"If this has anything to do with spiders or wells, I shall be extremely vexed with you," Tristan told her sternly.
"Only because I beat you to it," Codi said, grinning impishly. She sat back and crossed her arms. "But, no, I really didn't do anything."
"Then why do you look like a cat who's just had a bowl of cream?" Lancelot asked, poking her. "Confess."
"I have suspicions only," Codi protested, holding up her hands.
"And these suspicions are?" Tristan pressed.
"I have reason to believe that my lady is having an...intimate experience...with her chamber pot," Codi told them, unable to suppress a snicker. "I heard her complaining earlier of 'impaired bowel movements' as a result of overeating. I merely suggested to her maid that she might be more comfortable with something to loosen things up a bit. Or a lot."
The knights stared at her for a moment, then collectively roared with laughter, even Tristan and Dagonet, the most restrained of the knights. Gawain and Galahad had to lean on each other for support and Lancelot had tears in his eyes. He pulled Codi to his side in a rough hug.
"Codi, queen of my heart," he said sincerely, "you have made me the happiest man alive."
"I can't think of anything more appropriate," Galahad said, smiling blissfully.
Tristan put a hand over his face and shook his head, shoulders shaking with laughter. "You are an evil girl."
"Nonsense," Bors roared, and raised his goblet. "To Codi!"
"Here, here," Gawain agreed heartily.
"Brilliant," Dagonet added, saluting her with his goblet and grinning.
Codi cast her eyes down demurely, positively oozing sincerity. "I was only trying to help."
"Of course, lass, of course," Bors said, thumping the table. "You couldn't have been more helpful."
"Remind me never to get on your bad side," Galahad joked.
"Aye," Lancelot agreed. "I, personally, have no wish to become quite that well acquainted with my chamber pot."
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well, that was fun--and, incidentally, inspired by my own unfortunate experience with a questionable hotdog at a football game. actually, I think it was the sourkraut. serves me right for trying something new--but more serious stuff on the way. I see more Tristan in the near future--if you're good ducklings and review lots and lots.