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

Chapter Forty-Two: A New Home

They did not notice us at first. Their eyes were on the shaking walls. Camelot too was trembling under the blow Arthur had dealt the land.

We were in the throne room of Camelot, a large round hall with strange curving walls. It felt like we were in a bubble within a single piece of rock. Cloth pendants in Arthur's colours of green, white and gold hung from the high roof, swinging like pendulums as the castle shook. One had shook free from its mounting and was gathering by the side of a large table, where stood king lot, Sir Bagdamegus and Palomina. They had succeeded in taking Camelot as they had planned. They had done it.

Slowly the fortress settled, though screams of shock and fear could still be heard from outside. There was a baby crying somewhere.

'Drift?' said Palomina. She nudged king lot, whose eyes had returned to the papers on the table as soon as the castle settled.

lot raised his eyes a moment, returned his gaze to his papers and looked up once more when his mind absorbed what he had seen. 'Arthur,' he said in a flat tone, his hand on his sword.

'No, lot,' said Arthur, striding towards the table. 'No, I don't think I want to see you just now.' He waved his hand, and the king of Orkney transformed into a wooden statue of himself. 'You see!' laughed Arthur, his eyes on Galahad. 'That's funny because there are no trees on Orkney.'

Sir Bagdamegus charged at Arthur, his sword drawn. Arthur sighed. 'I don't think so, old man.' He twirled, lashing out with the spear, but instead of drawing blood the wood of the weapon flashed through air. Sir Bagdamegus had disappeared, leaving only a puff of breeze.

Arthur approached the table. 'Come, boy; come, squire,' he said, waving us forward.

'Squire?' said Palomina.

I walked towards her, trying to communicate with my eyes that I believed I was following Mordred's orders, though I knew she had no reason to think well of me anymore.

Arthur examined the papers below him: maps of the south of Britain, plotting the routes supplying the siege at Tintagel; the pile of Epicene's papers I had brought with me from king lot's palace. When he was satisfied he understood what he found there, he looked at Palomina. His head tilted to one side and then the other, gauging something or other about her. 'No, I don't think so,' he said. He waggled his finger at her, but she didn't disappear. Instead Palomides appeared by her side. Her brother's head was still bowed, as it had been before Tintagel, though now his hands covered his eyes.

'Sir Palomides has accepted my offer of exile from Britain,' Arthur said. 'So away you go. Go on.'

'Drift –' said Palomina, but then the two of them turned to water and splashed to the floor, wetting Arthur's boots.

He bent over to examine the damage. 'Oh,' he said. 'Oh, silly me. There's a first job for you, squire. Dry slippers. Now, who have we here?' His long, thin legs carried him towards the throne. His wet shoes squelched against the floor. 'Wife!' he exclaimed. 'lancelot!'

I caught Galahad's eye. Both of us understood that the king was dangerously unstable, saturated in his enormous new powers. We followed him.

'A prisoner, wife? In Camelot? Poor, pretty Guinevere.'

They were sitting on the floor by the foot of the throne. Small, brown-haired Guinevere, and handsome lancelot. The knight knelt as the king approached.

'My king,' he said, without meeting Arthur's eye. 'I remained to ensure that the queen was unharmed. But now you have returned to impose order I will take my leave.' He stood, his head still bowed, and tried to walk past Arthur, but the king held out his hand. lancelot shrank away from his touch.

'Nonsense, my friend,' said Arthur. 'You must stay awhile, I see you so rarely. look what new friends I have brought for us.' He gestured to Galahad and me.

lancelot raised his heavy lids to look at us as the king commanded. Witnessed in the flesh rather than the memories of others, lancelot's blue eyes were quite the most wonderful things I had ever seen. It was easy to see how so many were captivated by their first sight of the man. There was a puzzled look in his eye: his and Galahad's eyes matched, they bore the same teardrop mark on their faces, but I do not think that the knight knew his son.

Guinevere grasped the knight's arm. 'Who is lancelot? Who's there?' She squinted in our direction but couldn't make us out, though we were mere feet from her.

The king had waved the two of them out of his way. He sat in his throne, slouching back and throwing his right leg over its arm. 'Not impressed with them, lancelot,my friend? Never mind.' He grinned. 'For I have found you a wife.' He pointed his toe towards the middle of the room. There was a ripping sound, and then a woman's roar.

At first all I saw was a blur of swords, but when one of her blades sliced clean through the wood of the table, she realised she was no longer in the middle of the battle. Drenched in blood and breathing hard, Melwas turned to face the throne, one sword in either hand.

'Will she not do for you, lancelot?' whispered the king. 'I think she will. One cannot be too choosy at your age.' He turned to Melwas and raised his voice. 'How goes the battle of Tintagel, Gaul?'

She approached the throne, her eyes on me. 'Tintagel is lost,' she said. 'The battle rages on, but the castle is yours.'

'Very good, very good.' The king rubbed his hands together in glee. 'kay!' he shouted at the door. 'kay!' He shook his head. 'Where is that man?'

'Husband,' said Guinevere in her gentle voice, 'I believe king lot had your brother confined to his chambers.'

The king huffed. 'That man,' he said, though whether he spoke of king lot or Sir kay I wasn't sure. 'Very well. Squire!'

It took me a long moment to remember that he was talking to me.

'Y-Y-Y-Yes, my lord?'

He pointed at Melwas. 'Get this cleaned up.' And then at Galahad. 'And find this one some clothes. Then release my brother and have him come to me.'

'Y-Y-Y-Yes, my lord.' I walked down the steps from his throne, Galahad following behind me. I didn't have any idea where I was going, so I simply guided the two of them to the nearest set of doors.

'Oh, and squire,' said Arthur as I pulled open the door. 'Some wine. Yes, fetch us some wine.'

'Y-Y-Yes, my lord.'

Here ends the story of how I was rescued from myself by my true love, of how I deceived and lost her, and how Mordred and my sister deceived me. Of my murder of the monster in the loch, and Sir lamorak's of Queen Morgawse. Of the falls of the Lady of the Lake, my mother, and of Epicene, my friend. The story of Mordred and Iseult's reunion, of the song of Sir Dinadan, the bravery of Alisander du Orphelin and of the four against thousands. Of Queen Melody's wit, and the madness of King Mark. Of the siege of Tintagel, how the fellowship of the dark was broken, and of the Lady Neave's destruction of all magics yet to enter the world. The story of Merlin's end, how Galahad became a man, and of the spear that shook Britain from the isles of Orkney to the kick of Cornwall. The story of how I, Drift of the Lake, ceased to be the hermit of Avalon, and became king Arthur's squire.

This is the end of my second story. I have one more to tell.

As soon as the door of the throne room was closed behind us, I looked up at Melwas' blood-smeared face.

She shook her head, understanding my question. 'I do not know,' said the Gaul. 'As soon as I was free of Merlin's spell I fought my way through the gates. But I could not find any of them. I could not find any of them, dead or alive.'