Ides of the May (Children of the May 2 - updates weekly)

Chapter Twenty-One: A Theory of Miracles, a Tangle of Prophecy (part one)

Although I did not think Agravaine’s words were meant as an attack, they made me feel terrible. I will not say that Bellina had used me or I her, but though I had perhaps briefly convinced myself otherwise, I knew deep down that the things we had done together were, for us both, mere comforts and conveniences. Since Mordred had met us on our journey through Caledonia Bellina had barely spoken to me, and my thoughts had turned more and more often to Palomina and the hope of repairing what we had damaged. But it seemed unlikely that would happen if Petal was being free with her mouth and gossiping about me. I knew it would be a mistake to lie to Palomina again, as I had about my glamour and the things I’d done on Avalon, but I had a slim hope that if I told her on my own terms about how badly I’d been affected by my visit to the Lake, then our relationship might be reparable. If, however, Palomina found out about it from one of the others, inflated with lewdness and speculation, then we had no chance at all. I had been weak, I knew that, but perhaps Palomina’s understanding of me might, in time, overcome the damage I had done.

‘I’m sorry about your Ma, Drift,’ said Agravaine, as he led me through his father’s wooden palace. ‘I know it must be hard for you, like. Bellina told us what happened. You must want to hurt Lamorak very badly, and Merlin. Well we’ll get them, pal, we’ll get them.’

I managed to summon a weak smile. ‘Your mother’s more upset than me, Agravaine. I’m fine with what happened to Nemue. Glad of it, even.’

The look on his face resembled Mordred’s, when I had first gloried in my mother’s fall. He squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. ‘Tush, tush, lad, you dinnea mean that. That’s Camelot or London talking. You’re trying to seem strong and unconcerned – we’re not so shy about our feelings up here on Orkney.’

‘Please, Agravaine, don’t,’ I said, lifting his arm from me. ‘I know you and your mother are close; but not all sons are as lucky as you.’

He was uncertain how to respond to this. I don’t think Agravaine was ever very good at thinking his way into the minds of others. His assumption was that everyone felt as he did, wanted the things he wanted. That was what made him so quick in his temper, and it was also, I think, what made him so susceptible to Lady Bertilak and Merlin’s deceptions on Avalon. He loved Melwas and Mordred, so it had made sense to him that the Melwas who visited his room at night loved him as he loved her, and wanted to protect Mordred’s feelings as much as she could as well. When Merlin’s illusions had been revealed he’d been upset at first, and guilty for hurting Mordred in their joust. As I looked at him I decided that what he had said back at the valley camp, about knowing that Melwas was Mordred’s and that he could do nothing about it, was only partially true. I was pretty sure that he believed Melwas would eventually agree with him that he was the one for her, and that she, he and Mordred would remain firm friends. I feared for the big lad should he succeed his father as King of Orkney: he would have no head for the petty deceptions and underhand doings of politics – he’d want to do everything with either an honest handshake or a sword, when sometimes spies and secret treaties would be the better ways to keep his people safe. He had no idea, I’m certain, of the secrets his mother had been keeping from him and the rest of his family – I don’t think any of the sons of Orkney did, nor their father.

‘So what’s been happening, Agravaine?’ I said eventually. ‘You father was coy about his plans in front of me, but Gaheris let slip that he sails to aid King Mark.’

‘Aye, aye,’ he said. ‘I told Da you were fine, mind, but he’s always cautious. Not long after we got here, and told him about what we learned from Dinadan, he got a letter from Breuse Saunce Pité, corroborating the intelligence. Camelot has been secretly mustering an army in the middle lands and the south east. Sir Breuse says they’re marching on Tintagel at the beginning of July, planning to starve Mark out. We’ve got our fleet together and sail tomorrow. The plan is to beat Arthur to Tintagel, combine with the Cornish, and give Camelot a proper battle, rather than let them besiege the place. If Arthur makes it there first we’ll put to shore to the north or east of Tintagel, and come at their rear.

‘We’re not going alone, either. Palomina’s gone to get her brother’s fleet: they’re either going to join us here tonight, or, if they’re delayed, down off the south coast.’

A wave of relief washed over me – at least she wasn’t at Orkney to hear Petal’s gossip.I’d have a chance to confess myself to her, and beg her forgiveness in my own way. ‘Her brother Safeer?’ I said. From her eldest brother’s attitude on his ship when he brought us from Avalon, I didn’t think he would be willing to get involved in a British war.

‘Nah, another one – Sagwur, Saggy, something like that.’

‘Sagwarides.’ Palomina had talked of her warrior brother, the one who had taken back her and Palomides’ ship after they were captured and taken to Caerleon.

‘Aye, aye, that’s him.’

We came to a large door, behind which we could hear raised voices. Agravaine shook his head. ‘Welcome back,’ he said with a sigh.

The others were all around a table loaded with rich, meaty food. Most of them were seated, and looking on an argument in progress between Melwas and Elia, who were on their feet and shouting at each other.

‘I will not stay here while Mordred faces Sir Lamorak,’ Melwas growled at the bard. ‘He cannot defeat that beast on his own. I must go to him.’

‘As I say: you don’t know where he is!’ Elia’s speaking voice was high and unusually shrill. ‘You could spend weeks looking for him, by which time the war will be over. And we agreed – it’s Epicene’s job to wait for lamorak here. Mordred will bring him.’

‘Mordred’s bringing lamorak here?’ said Agravaine furiously. ‘I’ll kill him.’

The room fell silent, and all eyes turned to the muscular lad.

Agravaine’s eyes shifted from face to face. ‘Aye, I mean that less seriously than the last time,’ he said sheepishly.

I shot daggers at Petal.

‘lord jesus, Drift,’ said the little maid. ‘You can’t whisper to save your life, and you hardly have to be Elia to hear through tent walls.’

‘I am going now,’ said Melwas, and made for the door. But before she could get to us, John of the Marsh’s arm snapped out and caught her wrist.

‘Wait, lass,’ said the grey-haired man calmly. ‘You can’t go now. We need you in Cornwall. Mordred can handle himself.’

She tore herself from his grasp with a roar of anger. I caught the smile on Brunor’s face; he seemed to enjoy Melwas most of all when she was angry.

Epicene spread her long black fingers over the tablecloth. Christian, who was sitting on a cushion beside Norma, giggled and copied her. ‘Melwas,’ said Epicene. ‘Lamorak is not far away. He will be here before nightfall.’ Her head turned to the door. She nodded at me. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I will speak with Drift in private.’

Piers, who had his back to me, had not noticed me at the door. ‘Stars, Drift! There you are! Wait, wait.’ He leant over the table and heaped spoonfuls of food into a fresh bowl. He turned in his chair and held the food out to me. ‘Don’t go without your dinner, lad – the things these Orcadians can do with the insides of a sheep will make your eyes bleed with joy.’

‘Erm, thanks, Piers,’ I said, unsure if I wanted to bleed at all, never mind from the eyes.

Epicene touched my arm, and nodded me back into the passageway. ‘Make sure she does not leave,’ she said to Agravaine. With a glance back at Melwas, who looked at us in furious silence, Epicene led me down the corridor.