Albion's Days They Leave Us Wanting

Tourney and Trouble

The knights were on the farthest grounds practicing for a tourney, at least fifty of them but three hundred if you felt inclined to include the squires and guards. From his place on the ramparts Arthur couldn’t make out any of the men scattered across the field but he knew the sight of his beloved Guinevere anywhere. She was sitting in the stands with other ladies laughing and chatting while watching several knights race around the track, practicing for the leaps. As much as he loved the view he wanted to be a part of it, to be on the horse not watching them go round and round.

It took him some time to get to the feel but when he did he was graced with the smell of grass and steel. It was exhilarating. The sun over his head, the wing soft and cooling on his skin. As he grew close to the fighting field he could see Cedric by the armory tent smiling like the cat that ate the canary. “Your armor and weapons your royal highness?”

“Thank you, Cedric”

They headed inside the tent and were met by several other knights and their squires; Bedivere, Guinevere’s father Cador, and Geraint all getting fit for their practice or finishing up. As Cedric fixed his breastplate all he did was stare at where his sword hanged on the wall. Is it fair to fight with an enchanted sword? He took it to battle but the tourney? He knew no sword like his Caliburn and to fight with another wouldn’t feel right and every knight is supposed to be at his best but fair.

Cedric finished fixing the last of his armor and went for Caliburn when Arthur stopped him, it knew no other hand but his meaning it could be taken but not used, and as far as he was concerned that was all that mattered. “Cador what are your plans for the day?”

He was still looking at Caliburn but he could hear Cador turning to look at him. “Had something in mind, your highness?”

“I’m sure Guinevere would love the company and I would appreciate someone I trust with Caliburn” Cedric’s brow knitted with worry at the request, his position in the court potentially jeopardized if Uther or Quartermaster were to hear and take it as mistrust in him.

“No need your royal highness I can do it” Cedric objected.

Arthur cut him off with a raised hand “No, I’ll need your help with Llamrei and equipment-” he turned to look at his future father-in-law“-and I’d prefer it guarded instead” Caliburn was a magical relic bound to Arthur and his very soul to know him and truly no other to be entrusted with it was a great honor that he didn’t give sparingly. A sword is an extension of one’s self and his even more so.

“Thank you for this honor, your highness”

“We’ll be family one day there’s no need” They both took a step to each other before clasping arms and smiling. Arthur cares deeply for Cador, he may not be Guinevere’s true father but he raised her to be the woman he loved and that, that was good enough for him.

With the armor on and a different sword on his side they left the tent, Cador now in his plainclothes took Caliburn with him to the stands by the track and the group of waiting ladies and ladies in waiting.

Arthur walked to the track to see who was making use of it. The fact that he had a good look at Guinevere was just a coincidence. Obviously.

As Percival rounded the turn again Guinevere met his eye and smiled. Her emerald eyes were a sea he would gladly drown in, to feel her delicate soft hand on him and that sultry black hair of hers cascading over him, framing her face and turning the rest of the world away until it was only them. He smiled at the memory of her laying on top of him while under the shade of an oak tree up north. The smell of her rose perfume, summer, and rain. He forced himself to look away but the smile forming on his lips wouldn’t leave.

Accolon’s horse caught the end of a jump and booted him. Everyone who saw was sent into a frenzy, the ladies and Cador shot up in surprise. Percival hurried up to him to see if he was well as Arthur and Cedric did the same. By the time they reached him Percival was already kneeling on the ground slowly taking off his helmet to check him. Accolon’s squire took the now spooked horse back to the stables while screaming for a physician. “Look at me, friend. Look at me” His eyes were swimming but he was able to focus enough on them that they knew he would be fine.

“Sable, where’s Sable…I…I need…my horse?… where is…-”

“Whoa, she’s fine, friend. Can you stand?”

“Wa-…”

Those standing above him looked amongst themselves before saying in unison “He can’t stand”

It took a bit of work and a stretcher from the physicians but they managed to get him to the medical tent. They moved him to the only open bed when a very young and beautiful woman with long flowing ebony hair, eyes like moonlight on still water, rose-colored otherworldly flawless skin, and good clothes of pure white came rushing up. “You need to wait for the healer good lady”

“I am the healer” she said as she rounded the bed, stood behind his head, and lightly framed his face with her hands. A soft glowing light came out and his scrunched pained face melted as he fell into a blissful calming sleep.

“Merlin’s new apprentice?” Arthur asked curiously.

“How could you tell?” she said with a playful tone as she took her hands off him leaving him to rest. “Nimue” she extended her hand to him and he took it gladly.

“Arthur Pendragon”

“Oh!”

“Will he be alright?”

“He’ll need someone to watch him and help him to his room in a few hours but yes, he’ll be fine” she looked back over him pleased with her handy work before heading back to one of the other knights who was green in the face and on the verge of emptying his stomach.

“I’ll stay with him” Percival said patting Arthur on the arm before sitting in the chair next to him and giving the others his best reassuring smile.

For some reason he had no desire to practice with Llamrei today.

The physicians hurried them out after a minute of watching Accolon. Staring at the grounds around them they all looked for something to do now, all having been temporarily tuned off horse training. Both the pistol range, the rifle range, and the archery range were full with people and a small fight. The jousting field had horses as well as Elyan and Leon working on their dummies. The fencing ring had Maleagant and Sagramore squaring off with at least twelve others gathered around clearly wanting to be the next in, the same with the wrestling ring. The pit however had gathered quite a crowd. Wonder what they have in there now, another bear? There were no better places available or places that he cared to see.

The pit was usually not one for fanfare when the tourney was not on, people tend to care more for the things with more flash and celebrated, the flying of sword or prancing perfect mares not mud and fist, it was low society, the actions of commoners and barbarians, not knights and ladies.

There were a fair number of noblewomen and girls about talking in hushed tones of brave knights, torrid love affairs, and swooning damsels in need of saving. Arthur used to despise the young women and their detached fantasies but upon his first dragon hunt and meeting his lady Guinevere bound to an unending tower with no hope for escape, it became apparent that they may have been more with reality than him. They wanted a brave man to sweep them off their feet and right now they were in no short supply.

The crowd moved to let him through to the rim and Merlin. His long dark brown hair was tied into a messy bun and what had fallen loose fell over a discolored and all together uncared for once white dress shirt and Gawain’s leather coat. Despite not being one for physical affairs his brown daily trousers were caked in mud at the cuff up his calves. Cedric disappeared in the crowd as Arthur came up next to him and leaned against the banister.

Merlin was smoking while watching Gawain move around every swing Lancelot threw. “What are they doing?”

“Practicing evasion”

“That has this crowed?”

“No winner fights the bear” Of course there's a bear.

Merlin and Lancelot didn’t care much for each other but Gawain, Merlin adored Gawain. Merlin was the godfather to his son, they stayed up late often speaking of many things the other cared for that others wouldn’t even humor them on. They had known each other since youth and where there was one there was likely to be the other. This, unfortunately, caused Arthur a problem, as much as he trusted Gawain he trusted Merlin for council more even if he knew it would eventually make its way into Gawain’s ear.

“You know about our guest?”

“A little birdie told me”

“Metaphorically or…?”

“Literally. Messenger birds know more than most people expect” Lancelot threw a right hook which Gawain dodged perfectly before grabbing his arm and using it to lead him away from him so he could readjust his stance and prepare for the next swing.

“Going to tell me anything?”

“She saw the castle fall. If you want to have a good relationship with her you might want to give her space. Also don’t talk about dragon-slaying she’s quite fond of the Welsh Dragon”

“Lovely” a hush slowly fell over the crowd around them as all heads above the pit looked back to the entrance to the castle’s courtyard.

“She’s here”

Sure enough, there was a woman standing in the open gateway. She was too far away for him to get a good look at her but what he could see was stunning. She had long fire red hair that ended at her knees and pale skin contrasted heavily by both her hair and the scarlet and green of her gown. She was made up like court was in session and she intended to make an appearance.