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

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Padded Cell (part one)

We found Mordred pacing in a great anteroom of the wooden palace. Neave went straight towards him, but I put my hand on her arm to hold her back. ‘let me speak to him, Neave. He’s my friend.’

She sighed. ‘Very well, brother. I will fetch Galahad. I want to visit the fire-creature before I depart for the dragon. I have seen what the spear did to Garnish and Mother in your memory, but it would be of more use for me to examine the effects first hand.’ She gave me a familiar look, one that told me that I was substandard, and went off towards the apartment where we had left Christian.

‘Don’t, Drift; just don’t,’ said Mordred when I went to him. His whole body was tense as he tried to work out the anger stirred by his confrontation with king lot.

I swallowed. I had promised Queen Morgawse that I would convince him to leave as she had instructed him to before, but to do so without revealing the terrible story of his birth. She had been convinced that he would feel compelled to stay if he knew the whole truth, and I was inclined to agree with his birth mother’s instincts, especially if he learned the identity of his true father.

‘You should do as he says, and as Queen Morgawse instructed you,’ I said eventually.

‘lord jesus, not you too,’ he said angrily.

‘You said it yourself, Mordred, back at the valley camp – you worried that you’d cursed yourself by killing Hilda. Well perhaps you did, my friend.’

He looked away. ‘General, you called me last time.’

‘I did. And every general knows he must take orders from his king. look at me, Mordred.’ He turned his handsome, resentful features towards me. ‘king lot is a good man – he’ll do as he promises. He’ll save Tintagel from Arthur, and send Iseult back to Erin. Don’t get in the way of that through disobedience. Don’t make him change his mind.’

‘And what do you suggest I do instead, eh?’ There was an edge of cold rage in his tone.

‘Brunor’s quest,’ I said flatly. ‘You promised him you’d help take back Castillo Orgulloso from the Red knight once Iseult was rescued. Now Iseult is going to be rescued, so it’s time to keep your part of the bargain – Brunor has been delayed long enough.’

His shoulders trembled. Part of him thought I might be right, I could tell, but his need to rescue his sister trumped that thought. I decided to give him just a little of what Morgawse had told me, in the hope of showing that he would harm rather than help if he stayed.

I heard Christian giggling round the corner. Neave was coming back; I needed to be quick. I went closer to him, and lowered my voice to a whisper. ‘Queen Morgawse didn’t hate you, my friend. She was concerned for your safety. There is a prophecy about you that she told me. She said you would suffer three horrible deaths – she didn’t want that for you. That’s why she told you to go far away.’

‘Nonsense, mate,’ said Mordred loudly. ‘Morgawse hated me, anyone could see that. Why would she want to keep me safe?’

just at that moment Neave rounded the corner. She had heard Mordred’s last words. ‘Because she was your blood mother, Mordred,’ she announced. ‘And king Arthur your father by rape. But Morgawse loved you nonetheless.’

Mordred’s head snapped in her direction. Neave was unconcerned by the intensity of those black eyes, she absorbed his look without blinking. Without another glance at me, Mordred broke and ran towards the apartments. I started to follow him, but Neave raised her hand to stop me. ‘Hold, brother. He’s running to the arms of his pretty Melwas; she will provide comforts you cannot.’

‘You knew?’ I said. ‘You knew all about it and you never said anything.’

Neave shrugged, unconcerned by the appalled tone in my voice. ‘No, no,’ she said. ‘Ordinarily I make it my business to know as much about those I encounter as the water allows, but Morgawse would not let me near her until she was dying on the floor. I learned of Mordred’s parentage only then.’ She sighed. ‘I understand from our contact in the great hall that you have quibbles about the morality of our gifts, but it is as natural to us as sight; would you prevent your friends from seeing on grounds of morals, brother? Besides, the child of incest may be useful.’

‘Useful?’

She moved towards a guarded doorway. ‘Come, Drift, let us visit the fire-creature together. I would have words with you.’

She went past the guard, Christian at her heels. I stood there a moment, unsure whether to follow her or run to Mordred’s side. But Neave was right, Mordred would have gone to Melwas. I went after Neave and my nephew.

 * * *

Unlike the rest of the wooden palace, the passage I followed them down was cut into the rock of the island. The staircase was long, but eventually we reached a heavy door that was opened for us by a swarthy jailor. He nodded us past, and we entered a corridor of cells illuminated by torches. Despite the lack of fresh air, the jail was clean and well kept. Unlike most dungeons, this seemed to lack for rats and filth, and the open doors of several empty cells showed that King Lot provided straw beds and chamber pots for his prisoners.

Only four of the cells were occupied, the first two by common criminals of Orkney: a cattle-rustler, and a man who had stolen fruit from a market stall in the town. Neave unlocked the hinged viewing port of the third locked cell, and peered inside. A voice came from within, and for an instant I thought Epicene had somehow recovered from the effects of the spear.

‘Lady Neave,’ said the prisoner, his voice cracking from underuse. ‘Well, well. What brings you here, my pretty? Your mother sent you to free me on Arthur’s behalf?’

I looked over Neave’s shoulder, and saw Sir Dinadan inside. He was sitting on the bed with a book in his lap. A candle burned by his bedside. His eyes were unused even to the weak light from the corridor, and he squinted at us.

‘And your brother too,’ said Dinadan, when his eyes adjusted and he saw me. ‘I must say it’s a surprise to see the two of you together and looking so friendly. Didn’t think you were particularly close from what I saw last I was at the Lake.’

‘Quiet, Sir Dinadan,’ said Neave, and went to shut the port again.

‘Wait, wait!’ said the prisoner. ‘Tell me, where’s the little bard today? I do enjoy our little chats. Hungry for my stories, that one, and I do like to tell them to her.’

‘Not today, Dinadan,’ said Neave, and closed the shutter.