Children of the May (Children of the May Book 1)

Chapter Eight: Berries and Beasts

I didn’t recognise the type of trees in the first part of the forest. The woods around the lake tended to have lots of low branches that made climbing easy; here they all pushed high towards the sun. The bark of their trunks was silvery-smooth, their lowest branches well above all of our heads. The forest floor was almost completely clear; only a few bushes clung to life in small patches of sunlight. The woods looked like they had been carefully tended, though there was no evidence of forestry – no hacked tree stumps or sliced branches. There were birds in the treetops. We were unlikely to find much food on the forest floor, but I was a decent shot with a sling if we had to knock birds from their perches.

We went in three pairs: Mordred and Epicene in front, followed by Piers and Palomina. Elia and I lagged some way behind; I could have gone faster but didn’t want to leave the smaller girl on her own.

‘That was a thing, wasn’t it?’ she said as we went along.

‘W-W-W-What?’

She grinned. ‘The spark between Mordred and Melwas back there. Her face was nearly the colour of her hair. Though I’d be watching out for Agravaine.’

‘W-W-W-W-Why?’

She dragged her fingers across the smooth bark of a tree. ‘He likes her too.’

‘R-Really?’

‘Trust me. I know songs, so I know people.’

‘W-W-W-W-W-What difference does knowing songs make?’

‘Songs speak the truth. All of the truth. The truths we tell, and the truths we hide from ourselves. And I’ve been learning the songs ever since I was tiny.’

‘Y-Y-Y-Y-You’re not that big now.’

‘Aye, and you’re not that straight-standing, either. But we shouldn’t mock each other for our afflictions, eh?’ She looked up at me through her curls, and I saw she was teasing me.  ‘When I was even smaller than I am now – if you prefer – my family sent me to live with the druids and bards.’

‘They g-g-g-g-g-gave you away?’

‘Not quite. I was happy to go; it’s a great honour to be chosen among my people. I always knew I sang and played much better than anyone in my village, right from when I plucked my first string. Bit too talented for a village bard, even if I do say so myself.’

‘W-W-W-W-Which you do.’  

‘Aye, I do,’ she skipped a pace, pleased with herself. ‘The bards have been teaching me old songs and new songs, songs of war and songs of love since I was very, very, very, very small. When I get back I’ll be a proper bard, if any of them are left alive when I get there.’ She looked at her feet. ‘They didn’t give me up without a fight when Sir Pelleas came for me. Druids and bards don’t make the best warriors, and Pelleas had Merlin’s magic on his side.’

The anger grew in her small speaking voice. ‘Arthur is such a scared, pitiful little man. Mordred was right in what he said on the ship. The king’s so terrified of losing his power that he’ll do terrible things to keep hold of it. I’m going to compose some bloody good killing songs for our fight, let me tell you.

‘But anyway, as I was saying: I know the songs, so I understand more than most about the way people really think and feel. Especially young lovers like Mordred and Melwas and Agravaine – there are so many songs about their kind that it’s almost boring. Though they don’t often end well when there’s three involved, so we’d better watch that.’ She sighed. ‘Though I don’t know if I’ll be able to sing anything without my harp. I remember the words and melodies on its strings.’