A Legend Changes

Chapter XIX: Shifting

Chapter Nineteen: Shifting

   I trod in, silently, from off the veranda into my room. As quietly as I could manage I shut the doors and curtains to block out the night chills. Still holding onto the linen drapes I tightened my eyelids together and bowed my head until my chin touched my chest. Many things had changed between ten minutes ago and now, I didn’t know what to believe or trust anymore. I knew Delrand meant no harm in not telling me when I had asked him, and he also didn’t want me to see it as though I had been psychologically forced into believing that Mordred was my enemy; but it seemed strange that he wouldn’t care to try and trade the feudal bonds for friendship ones with Mordred, as there once had been. Delrand always tried to find a way around violence and killing if he could. It was the opposite way around with Mordred, at the slightest chance to challenge him, Delrand wouldn’t need a second thought. I was willing to negotiate, Delrand wasn’t; whereas some time ago it might have been the other way around.

   I opened my eyes and allowed myself a smug smile at a subtle epiphany. In the many months I had been with Delrand, I had changed more than I had realised. I remembered back to when there wasn’t a time when I didn’t think of fighting or duelling. These days I was less for it than even Lancelot (and he was much like Delrand when it came to thinking things through). When I first met Delrand he seemed like one who stepped aside from a fight or be the one to observe the skills of the learners and apprentices-to-be at the school. Now he seemed to want to get the combat part over and done with as soon as possible without delay. I wondered what I could do to make him take his mind off Mordred; to make him forget about everything he had already planned. He always seemed to base everything on what he imagined would happen if things were a little different or went wrong. I wasn’t comfortable with him always looking into the future, although he always told me to focus on the present.

   Turning around so I could see him, I watched his face to help me think of what would be easiest for him. I cared for him far too much than he may want me to. He had told me he didn’t want me to change because of him, yet that happened beyond his power anyway (as I had just concluded). Even in sleep he didn’t look relaxed, as though all his responsibilities and burdens still hammered down on him while dreaming (if he had dreams, that is).

   So as not to wake him I sat down in the wooden chair he had always used to occupy within the first few days when he had arrived in Camelot. I leant my head on my hands that lay on the right arm of the chair and fell into a confused world of my own.

   Lifting my hands over my head, I stretched the sleep out of me. My eyes fell upon the bed, which now lay empty. Although he had asked me to call him, I didn’t. Unsure of whether last night wasn’t a twist of my mind I shook my head and looked quickly round the room. Nothing was out of place. I was still in my clothes from yesterday, so I walked downstairs and into the Table Hall, only to find them there as usual. I sat down in my usual seat. Still concentrating on my findings last night, I lay my head on my hands which themselves rested on the table. I stared at my plate and tried to forget about them being there. Whatever they thought I was doing was of no interest to me, they could believe anything they wanted. At some point, I looked sideways at Delrand. He sat leaning against the table, resting his right arm on the carved metal surface. Though he faced me, his eyes were on something behind and sideways to me. I tried to follow his gaze from how I was positioned but couldn’t manage to figure out where he looked.

   We sat like that, next to each other, unspeaking, unmoving. For about the fifth time I looked at him again and found he was watching me as well. As soon as our eyes met he began a mind conversation.

   Where did you go last night after I fell asleep? he asked bluntly, his voice sounded uninterested; only to make it seem as though he didn’t really care.