Lancelot continued to improve at an astounding rate, and soon the Lady Nuina had Gawain assisting her in forcing Lancelot’s stiff leg to move in the ways it used to. The sessions involved many curses and much anguish for both Lancelot and Gawain. Both warrior knights were wrung out and sweat soaked by the end of the exercises.
The Lady Nuina was merciless in her regime and privately confided in Gawain she was more worried than ever Lancelot might never sit a horse again. For a knight and a horseman of Lancelot’s calibre, the thought was unbearable. Gawain gritted his teeth and pulled on his inner fortitude during the sessions. It felt most cruel to force the tortured limb into positions which caused sweat to pop out in huge drops on Lancelot’s face and more than once caused the strong knight to become senseless with the pain.
But the day came when the Lady Nuina allowed Lancelot to stand and attempt to walk the length of the small chamber on his own. Lancelot stumped unevenly toward the door, lurching badly as his last step brought him close enough to slump against the rough wood and draw gasping breaths into his lungs. Gawain put his arm around the weakened man and bore much of his weight on the journey back to the sick bed. Lancelot collapsed on the bed with a weak smile of thanks to Gawain and managed to squeeze Gawain’s forearm with some strength.
A week later, Ailim relayed the news of the happenings at the court of King Arthur. Gawain was in the practice yard sparring with one of the castle men at arms when Ailim called him. Gawain realized whatever Ailim knew Eldon would know as well, and therefore, so would Lancelot. Taking the stairs two at time he entered the chamber to see Lancelot struggling to dress himself and the Lady Nuina standing, glaring at him with her arms crossed over her ample bosom. The sight of her breasts pushed upward by her crossed arms caused Gawain to lose focus for a second and pulled his mind back to the problem at hand with some difficulty.
“Lancelot, hold. We can never reach Cadbury in time before Arthur officially puts Gwenhwyfar from him and has the marriage dissolved.” Gawain crossed the room quickly to support Lancelot as the big knight lost his balance while battling with his night shirt.
“He cannot do that,” Lancelot snarled. “It was not her fault. March had someone bewitch Gwenhwyfar, so she thought it was me. When she looked at March, she saw my face and my body, heard my voice, not his.”
“Listen to what you have just said, Lance,” Gawain implored him. “Think you Arthur wishes to hear instead of playing him false with an enemy, she intended to do that very thing with his most trusted friend and knight.”
“Right now, I don’t much care what Arthur does or does not want to hear.” Lancelot swayed alarmingly as pulled his tunic over his head.
Gawain caught the Lady Nuina’s eye and mouthed the words at her, “Can the damned fool ride?”
She lifted her shoulders in resignation and sighed. “He will have to try at any rate, or we will be chasing him over the countryside after he sneaks off on us.”
Gawain summoned Alain from the stables where the lad spent a good deal of his time fussing over the mares and the two great war horses in his care. Alain had everything in order and ready to depart by noon the following day. Gawain sent word to Arthur of their plans via Ailim’s link with Caliburn, and Arthur expressed his pleasure Lancelot was well enough to travel. Gaheris was dispatched to ride forthwith back to Castle Arbray of Lyonnesse to take up stewardship of the keep until after the more pressing problem of the queen was settled, and Arthur could appoint a permanent steward for the castle.
The morning of their departure was bright and clear, and by the time the sun was high in the sky, the day was quite warm with no sign of rain clouds on the horizon. Eldon lowered himself unto his knees so Lancelot could place his foot in the stirrup without raising it more than an inch above the cobbles of the courtyard. The war stallion waited until Lancelot swung his other leg over the saddle and was secure as possible given the circumstances. The war horse raised himself carefully to his full height and stood stock still while Lancelot mastered the pain gripping him.
Gawain swung up on Ailim, after he handed the Lady Nuina up onto Rose. The folk of the castle gathered to watch them go and waved with real affection for the knights who had made life much better for the inhabitants of the Castle Arbray than they had been under the rule of King March.
Gawain’s heart lifted as they clattered out of the castle gate and turned their horses’ noses toward the northwest and home. They made poor time as they rode mostly at a walk, and the Lady Nuina made them stop often so she could dose Lancelot with wine and willow bark.
Gawain experienced a couple of disconcerting moments when his dizziness returned suddenly, and the two worlds seemed to swim in front of his eyes. He refused to worry the Lady Nuina with his problem and held tight to his pommel until the dizziness and flashing lights passed.
More than once during the long afternoon ride, Gawain felt somehow separate from his body, watching things from a great distance. Dismissing it as something to be blamed on the weeks of idleness spent waiting for Lancelot to heal and the number of sleepless nights in the last two months, the stubborn man resolutely ignored the discomfort.
Alain cantered on ahead to set up their camp in the place they had agreed upon when they planned their journey north. Gawain sighed in relief when Ailim halted in the shade of the small grove of trees. Eldon stopped beside him, and Gawain took one look at Lancelot’s white face and slid down from Ailim’s back in time to catch Lance as the large knight slid from his saddle onto legs which refused to hold him up.
Alain had prepared Lancelot’s sleeping place and helped Gawain point Lancelot in the right direction and lower him to the ground. Lancelot stretched out with an audible groan and turned his face into his arm. The Lady Nuina raised his shoulders and gave him strong mead laced with willow bark. After a few minutes, Lancelot fell into an uneasy slumber born of exhaustion and pain.
Gawain settled himself on a rock by the fire Alain had started and let the warmth ease the cramps in his own muscles. The Lady Nuina sank down on the ground in front of him and leaned her shoulders back against his knees. Gawain allowed his hands to stroke her silken hair and play with the long strands that had once again escaped her pins and her attempt to tame them with a snood. The Lady Nuina leaned her head back into the soothing feel of his hands in her hair and sighed in contentment.
“What of when we return to Cadbury, My Lady?” Gawain broached the subject that had troubled him over the past few weeks.
“What of it?” the Lady Nuina twisted her head, so she could see Gawain’s face.
“How do we go forward?” Gawain said uncomfortably. “Do you still desire to keep company with me once we are back at court, or would it please you that others know nothing of what transpired at Castle Arbray?”
“What do you wish, Sir Gawain?” The Lady Nuina frowned slightly as she spoke.
“I think you know what I wish,” Gawain said fiercely unable to stop the fire that leaped into his eyes.
“That is what I wish also, you ninny.” The Lady Nuina pulled her knees under her and turned so she was held in the circle of Gawain’s strong thighs and his arms. She reached up and claimed a kiss from his lips.
“Do you wish to make it formal with a marriage ceremony at court?” Gawain tightened his arms around her.
“That would be fine, but it needn’t be at court if you wish it elsewhere.” The Lady Nuina laid her head against Gawain’s chest, where his heart thundered in her ear with excitement.
“Anywhere is fine with me, My Lady, so long as you are with me,” Gawain spoke softly into her hair.
“Dinner is burning.” Alain cleared his throat and grinned at them from across the fire.
“Let it burn,” Gawain growled softly into the Lady Nuina’s ear.
She returned his grin and pushed herself to her feet with her hands on Gawain’s strong shoulders. She took his hand in hers and drew him to his feet. Gawain rose easily and then clutched at the Lady Nuina for support as the world turned crazily around him.
The Lady Nuina’s face was again superimposed over the other girl who was Nuina and yet wasn’t her at all. The Lady Nuina tried to support his weight and with Alain’s help lowered Gawain back unto his rock. The weirdness only lasted a few minutes, and Gawain shook his head in relief when the world settled back into place around him. “Curse the knave that brained me. I hope the churl burns in the deepest pits of the nine hells,” Gawain swore taking the wine skin from Alain’s outstretched hand.
“Come and eat, perhaps it was only faintness from riding so long.” The Lady Nuina led Gawain over to the camp fire and filled a wooden bowl with stew.
“Mayhap that is all it was,” Gawain agreed, ignoring the knowledge that there was something seriously amiss. Time enough to deal with that once we have Lance safely back in Cadbury.
The sun sank behind the green hills, and the light of the campfire became proportionately brighter. Lancelot roused once, and the Lady Nuina managed to get some watered wine and broth from the stew into him. She checked his wound while Gawain held a torch for her in the fading light. Satisfied the wound was still healing she re-bandaged his thigh and smiled her thanks at Gawain.
Alain offered to take first watch of the night, and Gawain was only too glad to oblige him. His head was aching fiercely as if it might explode at any minute. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, the knight dug in his pouch for a good handful of willow bark. He rolled himself in his cloak and turned his back on the light of the fire, searching for a position that would ease the pain in his head.
The Lady Nuina dosed Lancelot with some honeyed mead and willow bark and then curled into Gawain’s arms. The large man gently drew her into the warmth of his body and nestled his face into her soft hair. The Lady Nuina covered his hand with hers and intertwined her fingers with his. Gawain could tell by her breathing she fell asleep almost before the flap of his cloak was tucked firmly around her. The pounding in his head lessened as the bitter willow bark did its job. Gawain listened carefully to the night sounds around him for anything out of place and finding nothing amiss allowed himself to follow the Lady Nuina into slumber.
The quiet of the night was split wide open by the wild battle screams of Ailim and Eldon, and Alain’s voice raised in alarm. Gawain rolled quickly to his feet, coming up with his sword held at the ready, the blue blade flashing scarlet in the firelight. The Lady Nuina stood at his back with his short sword in her hands. Alain faced the darkness in front of them, and they waited.
It came seconds later, the battle cry of one warrior broken off abruptly as Ailim cut him down in the dark with his iron shod forefeet. In the next instance, the ring of firelight was filled with the dark visages of six well-armed warriors. The fire flared in the night wind, and Prince Tristam’s cold, furious face showed itself to Gawain. The shadows threw his face into a contorted mask, and Gawain thought inconsequentially Tristam looked like the devil incarnate with blood lust coloring his eyes. Gawain calculated the odds and found himself decidedly on the losing end. Six to two, four if you counted the Lady Nuina and Lancelot, but even then it was two to one.
Gawain sighed. This is not going to end well, and just when I have found her, I must lose her. I must get Lancelot back safely to Arthur, and Alain is no fighter yet. Gawain was torn between his love for the Lady Nuina and his sworn pledge to defend his fellow knights to the death. He loved Lancelot like a brother, and Gawain owed him his life on more than one occasion. Alain and the Lady Nuina looked to him to protect them as well, the choice was too hard. Gawain prayed it wasn’t one which would need to be made.
Gawain called Ailim to him. The stallion burst out of the darkness and managed to trample one of Prince Tristam’s men. The furious horse knocked another screaming into the fire. Eldon followed hot on his heels screaming in rage at the man who was standing over Lancelot. The man barely had time to realize there was danger before the huge front hooves of Eldon caught him squarely in the chest and bore him to the ground, where the enraged stallion pounded his body until there was nothing recognizable as human. Lancelot dragged himself to his feet and managed to clamber up on Eldon’s back. Gawain shoved the Lady Nuina toward him and yelled at Lancelot to lift her up behind him.
“Go, Lance, take the Lady Nuina and get you back to Cadbury. Tell Arthur of this treason. Alain and I will follow as soon as we take care of this nest of vipers.” Gawain shouted to be heard over the melee of clashing swords and the screams of the man in the fire.
Lancelot hesitated for a moment and then grasped the protesting Lady Nuina and swung her up in front of him. Before she was fully astride and before she could leap off again, Eldon bolted into the night in a thunder of hooves. Gawain breathed a sigh of relief. At least now the Lady Nuina is safe, and she can care for Lance’s wounds.
Alain and Gawain fought back to back, and Ailim did as much damage as either of them with his wicked teeth and well-placed hooves. Alain fought well, but lacked the strength to last long against hardened soldiers. Gawain’s head ached, and spots danced in his vision, but finally there were only two men opposing them. Prince Tristam and one other. Gawain felt Alain stagger under the heavy blow from the much older and heavier man opposite him. Ailim’s scream of rage tore the night a brief second before the grey war horse took the man who injured Alain to the ground.
In that brief instance, Prince Tristam took his opportunity and landed a blow with his sword which opened Gawain’s arm from shoulder to elbow, following the strike with a smash to Gawain’s head with the hilt of his short sword. Gawain was aware of the white flash of pain and a brief moment of anger at his stupidity before the blow from the short sword exploded in his head. Dropping him swiftly down through blackness filled with flashing colored lightning and white globes of light that hurt his already screaming head.
He was dimly aware of Ailim’s explosive scream of rage and the image of his grey belly as the great war horse leaped over Gawain’s prone body on his hind legs and smashed Prince Tristam to the ground in a welter of flying hooves and snapping teeth. The noise shattered Gawain’s head into a million small painful pieces. In desperation, he dived deeper into the comforting darkness and curled himself into a ball with his screaming head cradled in his arms.