Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Every moment of the next two weeks felt weighted, significant. Amid final forest walks and farewell rides through the high meadows, I savored every moment I could with Elinor and Viviana, knowing I’d never live among them again.
The thought of parting was a blue ache. I lingered over the supper table, strolled the beach, slipped out to the stables just to give Blake an extra lick of salt. Elinor summoned the four of us to her bedside for hours of stories and games, the soft glow of grandchildren a healing balm.
Bors and Lionel, it turned out, were well trained by Claudas.
They infused our days with playfulness and spontaneity, but they kept us on task.
They had insights into the Roman style of fighting, which, Bagotta noted, was inferior to her traditional approach.
But they could ride and parry and were quick to learn.
At the end of our sparring practices, Lionel set up pins for bowling or challenged us to table games.
I showed him a smooth rockface for paume and he fashioned balls out of wood.
“They must be this size,” he said, holding out his whittled design. “Big enough to bounce, but small enough to strike with the hand.”
There was a joke to be made, but I left that for him. I was not good at paume. I lost every game. Galehaut, however, had grown up playing a similar game and was halfway decent.
“The Haut Prince!” Lionel whooped, having adopted his much-maligned nickname from Giant’s Island. “That was an impressive shot.”
Bors and Lionel took to Galehaut. They loved to pepper him with questions about his life, and in particular, his sister, Delice. What did she look like? Did she have any suitors? What would she think of two brothers from Benoic?
“I am certain she would like you both very much,” Galehaut said.
“But who would she like more?” Lionel asked.
“I could not say.”
“Come, Haut Prince. You must tell us. It is me, is it not? You do not have to spare Bors’s feelings.”
There was no question my cousins would one day extend Elinor’s line. I leaned on Galehaut’s shoulder.
“Aww, look at the doves,” Lionel said of us.
We were conditioned to restrain ourselves, but our affection was obvious.
Did their jokes conceal a deeper understanding?
I have often wondered. One morning, Bors came to wake us for sparring, only to find me naked in Galehaut’s bed.
A panic swept through me. His eyes scanned the room, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
“The breeze last night,” he said, nodding to the open window. “Enough to make a grown man share a bed for warmth. Breakfast is ready. Hurry up or Bagotta will have our heads.”
He closed the door, whistled down the stairs and never brought it up again.
At the same time, Galehaut and I had grown even more ravenous.
We filled hidden corners of the island with our intimacy—the hay loft, the stables, a grove of cedars—once even the temple.
The added imperative of discretion only heightened our desire.
Despite Bors’s intrusion, we took to the same bed each night, redolent of sweat and sea.
“Remember the plan,” Galehaut whispered. “Soon we will be free.”
On the night of the half moon, Viviana led the three of us to the hazel grove.
Bors and Lionel were excited. They had barely interacted with the other descendants.
“I’m eager to see them all assembled in one place,” said Bors. “Their magic is renowned, even among those who pay tribute to Rome.”
“The others aren’t like Viviana and Elinor,” I warned them. “They’re more reserved.”
“As is their right,” said Bors. “But I’m still grateful to them. They bent their rules for us.”
“And for me. And for Galehaut,” I reminded them. “Their rules are not so hard and fast.”
I said this with as much conviction as I could muster, willing it to continue to be true.
When we reached the grove, the descendants were talking amongst themselves. The torchlight, crackling in the mist-heavy air, illuminated their blue robes and gold sandals.
Glitonea spoke first. “We are wary of men on this island, even, and perhaps especially, those who are kin. But the three of you have shown promise as knights. Bors and Lionel are to be commended for attaining many skills despite their circumstances. Lancelot, from what I gather, lives up to the prophecy.”
I stood taller, fought the urge to smile. Glitonea had never once given me a compliment.
“We have made exceptions for you,” said Sebile.
“Because we are facing a grave threat. Our practices have coexisted alongside the new ways for years, but now there are people who wish to eradicate us. People in Rome and their tributes in Britain and the mainland. Our island will always be safe from such people. But the rest of the Distant Isles are in peril, as is the greater balance of the world.”
“I want to make sure you understand this,” said Viviana.
“Countless people could die. Whole cities razed to the ground. The rituals that connect us to the spiritual realm would be outlawed, leaving us untethered from the ancient wisdom that shapes our very essence. This is the future the Roman tributes would impose.”
“And King Claudas is one such tribute,” said Elinor, who was perched in a chair.
“Since seizing our ancestral lands, he has extended his power beyond Benoic. But we still have a foothold in the region. In the form of our family’s castle, Joyous Guard.
Bors and Lionel, that is where you will regroup and mount a resistance. ”
“And Lancelot as well?” asked Bors.
“It will pain you to hear this,” said Elinor. “But Lancelot must be sent elsewhere.”
“What? No!” said Lionel. “You cannot separate us so soon!”
“If it were not for Viviana, all three of you would be dead,” Glitonea said, her voice matter-of-fact. “Your paths may cross again, but Lancelot is needed in Camelot.”
“Camelot.” My throat went dry.
“Yes. You will join the Round Table in their quest to restore the grail. We cannot risk it falling into the wrong hands.”
I shouldn’t have been as surprised. The sword’s memories had all but foretold my destiny. But a part of me secretly hoped they’d keep me in the archipelago, an afternoon away from Giant’s Island.
“You may not see it yet, Lancelot,” Elinor said. “But you can be the most capable knight in the realm.”
“Thank you. I am appreciative, but I am trying to take this all in.”
“I find it strange that he is surprised,” Lotta said to the others. “After all his… late-night adventures.”
“Lotta, please,” said Viviana. “Lancelot, do not worry. You will find many natural allies in Camelot. People who will come to your aid. Why there are even—”
“That’s enough, Viviana,” cut in Ganieda. “Best not to say too much. Not right now.”
Viviana pursed her lips. “But make no mistake,” she continued. “The three of you will continue to correspond and work in concert. Before, Claudas, Camelot and Benoic were allies. Together you will rebuild those bonds.”
I had spent years dreaming of Camelot and the glories of its Round Table. But now that the moment was here, I wanted only one thing.
“What of Galehaut?”
“Galehaut?” Glitonea gave a dismissive wave. “What of him? His fate is not our purview.”
“But you said the Distant Isles are under threat. Does that not include Giant’s Island?”
“You are asking the wrong questions.”
“I don’t think I am.”
Glitonea’s face buckled with rage. “Viviana, what do you make of this, your charge’s… odd obsession with the giantess’s son.”
“Galehaut is a friend to all of us,” said Lionel. My heart surged at his defense. “There is nothing odd about Lancelot’s concern. In fact I share it.”
“As do I,” said Bors.
Glitonea opened her mouth to respond, but Mazoe spoke first. “We commend your loyalty. And you are right to worry. We have already heard word of Roman ships passing through our waters. But Bagotta is well prepared for any form of incursion. We can rest assured that their island will be safe as long as she is in power. Now I recommend you take the remaining days to enjoy each other’s company. ”
At this we were dismissed, and conducted into what felt like a time between two worlds. Our training was over, but our quests had not yet begun.
“Well, Camelot and Benoic are not so terribly far,” said Lionel, when we were nearly home. “And once you restore the grail, you can come back to us.”
“You will make quick work of it, I am sure,” said Bors.
“The quickest,” agreed Lionel.
“And you’ll join the greatest knights of the Round Table.”
“Yes,” I said. “I look forward to it.”
My enthusiasm, I knew, was far from convincing. But it mattered not.
I had no intention of going to Camelot.