Chapter 5: The Beginning of a new Friendship
AsLancelot and Elenareached the wall, the guards stepped forward. They took one look at Elena and bowed. Obviously, they knew who she was. Countless tales had been told about this warrior-princess from this land, so beautiful, so clever, and so fiery that men would flock from anywhere just to get a glimpse of her. Elena looked slightly taken aback at the guards' strange gesture, but smiled placidly at them and treaded forward.
The two of them were silent for the rest of the way. Upon reaching the castle, Lancelot called the guards to open the gates. They did so, and as the doorway swung open, Lancelot could see Arthur standing there, with Guinevere beside him, and his knights surrounding him. They were here to greet Elena.
"Ah, Lancelot, I see you brought a visitor." The King smiled at his best friend, watching him slide off his horse and lead it towards the stables. "Meet us later in the dining hall, Lancelot."
Arthur stepped to the left side of Elena, and taking her hand, kissed it very lightly. Elena displayed an unflustered face, as she simply nodded to Arthur's gesture. He grasped her hand and helped her from her horse.
"My lady, I am King Arthur." He bowed. Elena did so as well.
"A great honor to meet you, King Arthur. I am Elena, Lady of Wales." She was incredibly modest and Arthur was slightly staggered at her unassuming nature.
"My lady, 'tis a great honor to meet you. Come, I expect you have come from far and wide and are very tired. We shall have dinner. But first, meet my knights." He waved a hand at Gawain, Galahad, Bors, Tristan, and Dagonet, who offered their best of greetings. Elena nodded to each one in return. Arthur then led her to Guinevere, who was smiling. "And this here, is my wife, Queen Guinevere. Guinevere, this is Elena of Wales. "
"Pleased to meet such a high, distinguished figure, Lady Elena."
"As with me, Queen Guinevere."
If one was could distinguish which of the two women was more beautiful than the other, I am afraid to say that they would have a most difficult time. While Guinevere had such an attractive figure and blossoming face, Elena exhibited a very charming, alluring sense, glowing in the light. Men would have fought valiantly, unquestionably, for both of these ladies, for there wasn't one attribute the other didn't possess.
Arthur gathered his knights, his Queen, and his gracious guest towards the dining hall. There, the table was shaped in the same way the Roundtable was shaped; round, to signify that everyone who sat before it was equal in the eyes of God. Immediately as they took their seats, the food was served. Elena sat to Arthur's left, as the guest. Lancelot sat beside her. She ate quietly and chatted amiably with Lancelot and Arthur.
"So, my lady, what brings you here to Camelot?" Galahad raised the question after dessert was served. Elena smiled with nobility.
"Ah, an excellent question, Sir Galahad. I was wondering when one of you would have asked me that. I have come here for an exclusive business with your King. I have brought him a present from Nimue, the Lady of the Lake." She answered, in all truthfulness. Everyone around the table sat in shock. They had expected her to tell untruths or delayed the question, but she had come out straightforwardly. No one anticipated for this moment. They knew people as liars, but she was an innocent bystander. The first innocent passerby they had come to meet.
"Well, my lady, what does the Lady of the Lake wish to give me?" Arthur was the first to recover.
"King Arthur, she wishes to give you Excalibur, the legendary sword of the lake, and its scabbard, which will protect the wearer from shedding blood. It is a precious sword, and given only to most worthy of swordsmen. Obviously, she has put good faith in you to lend it to you."
Arthur was undoubtedly, dumbfounded. Elena was an honest woman, she had told him everything he had heard while witnessing her, Merlin, and Nimue at the lake. He never had come to meet a woman like her, who told nothing but truth, and was pure in virtue.
"Excalibur? She wishes for me to have her?"
"Yes. She wishes for you to use the sword wisely in the war against the Saxons. " Elena described. "I will give you the sword after dinner."
"Very well. Thank you, my lady."
"Please, King Arthur, you must call me Elena."
"Oh. Well, in all honesty, then you cannot call me King Arthur. You must then call me Arthur, for that is all I am. Nothing but a man."
"Nothing but a man? On the contrary, sir. You are the talk among people I have seen and encountered, villages I have walked past, and enemies that I have slain. Everywhere I go, talk about you grows each day, to a greater high than before. They talk about your honor, your pride, and most of all, your heroism that saved their land. Only a true hero would call himself nothing but a man. Arthur, you are the instance of that hero."
Silence filled the room. Glorifying silence at Elena majestic words. Everyone around the table raised their glasses and shouted, "To Arthur!" The King was glowing in happiness and praise. He raised his cup as well.
"No, not to me. To Elena, Lady of Wales, for her kind words." He drank it all in one gulp and held it against the penetrating light from the window. "To Elena!"
The knights and Queen followed suit. "To Elena!" They cried, with a voice that could withstand a terrible army. This day marked the first day of the story, and later, the legend. Arthur, his knights, his Queen, and Lady Elena- figures of nothing but dignity and valor.
After dinner, the sky grew darker and the northern winds calmed to a steady stop. Arthur, Lancelot, and Guinevere followed Elena out to the stables for Excalibur. Untying the sword from her horse, Elena held it tightly in her hands as she passed it to Arthur. As he reached for it, Elena felt a sudden jolt stream through her hand and up her arm. She curled her hand, but made no impulse to wince or shout out in pain. Arthur examined the sword with enthusiasm.
"It is a beautiful and powerful sword. I am honored to possess it." Arthur stated. Guinevere admired the craftsmanship upon the sword. Unexpectedly, Elena whipped her head around, just as thunder pelted the earth. She studied the shadows of the stables, noticing everything, even the smallest freckle of dust. Lancelot noticed her look and trembled slightly.
"What is it, Elena?" He advanced near her. She held out her arm.
"Shh. Lancelot, stand back." She whispered, reaching for an object tied to her horse. Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot traded puzzled looks, but before they could do anything, a scream pierced the air and a dark figure jumped out behind one of the stables. His face gleamed in the torchlight, bloody and filled with sweat. It was a Saxon. He held a sword high in the air, ready to strike Arthur, who was too astounded to do anything. The Saxon raised the sword, ready to crash it upon Arthur's head, when swiftly, an arrow whizzed the air with a metallic thud and landed in the Saxon's chest. He fell to the ground; his eyes wide open in astonishment, clearly dead. Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot turned around to see Elena posed, her hands still locked with her bow, her eyes blazing with fury. As she looked up into the faces of her companions, the burning fire in her eyes died down and was replaced with the usual cool and calm look. She lowered her bow and swung it over her shoulders.
"Are you alright?" She asked Arthur. He nodded, still shocked. Lancelot advanced towards the Lady, impressed.
"You have quite the timing and the skills." He remarked favorably.
"Yes, how on earth did you know the Saxon was there?" Guinevere asked, her heart racing. The thunder had ceased, and a dewy steam hung over the grounds of Camelot.
"At first when we entered the stables, I felt something cold that did not belong here, but I only took it as the wind. But then, I heard something within the shadows and knew an intruder must be within. Since Guinevere and Lancelot did not have any weapons to protect themselves, and Arthur was too dazed from the surprise, I had to take matters into my own hands. I apologize if I frightened you."
"No. It was an excellent example of archery. You have quite the bow and arrow, my lady." Arthur commented.
"Yes, it was brilliant. And you saved my husband. I owe you a great deal." Guinevere said, smiling in admiration.
"He would have done the same, if I was in his position. Any one of you would have, that is the way I have heard of you. I was only acting on impulse." She shrugged. Lancelot smiled at her.
"An incredibly swift impulse, might I add? You could do well for one of Arthur's knights."
Elena laughed, "As flattered as I am with your remark, Lancelot, I regret to say that I shall leave Arthur with his men."
"Ah, but the women have their own strengths as well." Guinevere had a familiar twinkle in her eye. Elena smiled as well.
"I have heard of your expertise in archery. The Woads told me that you are well versed in their fighting techniques. They told me of you, Guinevere, as a formidable adversary."
Guinevere flushed, "You know of the Woads?"
"Yes, I passed through their village when I was on my way here. Pleasant people, they are, and very welcoming." Elena praised Guinevere's people. The Queen felt extremely proud of the Woads at that particular moment, and immediately took a great liking on Elena.
"Yes, they are, aren't they?" Guinevere recollected.
"You are a Woad warrior, is it true? I heard from them."
"Yes, I am." Guinevere proudly confirmed. "I was born among the Woads. They have raised me and taught me the mastery of archery. But tell me, who taught you of your proficiency in this art?"
"My mother. She is professionally skilled at archery and teaches the sport to the children of our town, and passersby that come and go. Because my father frequently leaves for his wars, my mother taught me the archery she knows. But my father taught me everything else I know about weaponry, about swords and daggers, and spears and all. My mother says I got my warrior side from my father. He is a fighter, and so am I." Lancelot was stunned. When he had met her, he never suspected her as a warrior, until she had established herself as Elena, and he knew of her great skills at combat fighting. But he never saw them until now.
"Your mother? I believe, the Duchess of Malory?" Arthur asked.
"Yes, Elyzabeth Windsor of Malory. And my father is King Mark of Wessex." Elena affirmed in respectable implication.
"And the rest of your family?" Lancelot asked in curiosity.
"My older brother, Charles, and his wife Rosalind, are the Duke and Duchess of York. And what I last heard, my younger sister, Lady Davina, is in Edinburgh. So as you can see, I am never lonely or without family."
"Quite true. Might I suggest we head inside before the northern winds come again?" Arthur threw an arm around Guinevere. Lancelot caught Elena flirtatious eye.
"Arthur, you and Guinevere best get inside before it is too cold. I will accompany Elena around the flower gardens. She said she wanted to see them before the night grows too dark to see." Lancelot said.
"Of course. Come inside afterwards, then. Come, Guinevere." And he and his Queen left, leaving Lancelot and Elena alone.
The knight ran his hand down her face, his eyes locked with hers longingly. She gently laid a hand on his and pressed it downwards. She closed the remaining space between them until she could feel his warm breath against her cool skin and his dark curls dance on her forehead. He plunged his fingers into her hair and she melted against him, tightening her arms around his shoulders as they kissed, caught up in a tidal wave of passion so intense Elena had to wonder where it had come from...or perhaps it had been there all along, just biding its time.
"Lancelot," she murmured against his neck as she felt great shocks, as if of cold or heat, tearing through her nerves, burning away rational thought. She felt as if she were falling and there was no end to her descent. She remembered the first time she had kissed him, and it had been like a strange miracle, all that known familiar country she had seen so often now being learned by touch: the feel of his mouth, the slight roughness of his skin, the taste of him.
"Lancelot, look!" She suddenly exclaimed, pointing to the west. The knight turned around, his hand still lingering on her waist. The shower left a mystifying glow to the west, where the fragile light hit a small patch of trees. The light managed to create a mesmerizing cage, the trickle of rainwater falling from branch to branch, leaf to leaf, and the occasional drip-drop sound. It was a small phenomenon, but not one that people usually viewed as a marvel.
"It is beautiful." Lancelot breathed, awestruck. "I have never seen anything like that before. In fact," he turned towards her, "I haven't seen such a spectacle in my life before." He kissed her temple.
Elena smiled, "I'm glad you like it. I consider it a small miracle."
"Elena, you are a compassionate person and you see the small miracles that most of us can't."
"You can see it too. You just have to open up your eyes." She whispered, her head falling on Lancelot's shoulder. He nodded, more to himself than her. Fascinated, he took her hand, gingerly rubbing them and bringing them to his mouth, planting kisses along the edges of her fingers. She smiled faintly as she watched him.
"Why don't we go inside and join the others?" Lancelot suggested after a long while. Elena nodded in agreement. Together, the two of them walked back to the castle, hand in hand.