Chapter 35
The next morning, hundreds of well-wishers thronged the street as the three adventurers rode in cavalcade down to the harbour. Darin and Broderic had their own horses, while Brynn rode on a white pony given to him by Safira. Accompanying them were the sultan, Safira and a retinue of mounted soldiers, two of whom carried between them the huge axe, safely housed in its case. Despite the ease with which Brynn had brandished it the day before, the weapon had proved too heavy for one man to handle alone.
Waiting at the dock, they found a magnificent galley, longer and broader than the Petrel. Darin could see places for at least twenty seated oarsmen; they would not have to rely on favourable winds to get them home. There was also a tent-like structure on the after-deck. That, the sultan explained, was where the three companions would sleep, while the axe would be stored below deck.
“Look!” shouted Brynn, who was riding at Darin’s side. He pointed out to sea. A small sailboat was racing towards them over the glittering water, tracing a zigzag path as it came.
“Just see how she takes the wind!” exclaimed Brynn. “Surely that’s impossible? It’s those peculiar sails that are doing it.”
A murmur amongst the troops behind him told Darin that Brynn was not the only one to find the speeding boat remarkable. Then he realized what he meant: the little craft, with not an oar in sight, was sailing against the wind, and the mast, which seemed very tall for such a small a boat, was rigged with triangular sheets quite unlike the square sails of all the ships he had seen so far.
As the boat drew nearer, Darin was able make out figures moving about on deck. He watched as one of them ducked under the biggest sail and caught at a rope, as if to adjust the rigging. Something in the grace of the movement, in the way the bright sun gleamed on that tossing mass of curls, was suddenly familiar.
“By Arthur’s sword—it’s Stella!”
“And, look, Shayla too,” cried Brynn.
By now, the two girlish figures were clearly recognizable. A tall man in a black cloak and hat was standing on the afterdeck, seemingly steering the boat in some way. At the bow, two women stood looking to shore, one with her hand raised to shade her eyes. Darin and Brynn stared at one another in amazement.
“My mother!”
“And mine!”
The party on the shore dismounted and hurried along the pier as the remarkable craft pulled in. Stella and the man in the cloak both jumped from the boat, made it fast and then helped the others. Their faces all were grim. Darin leapt from his horse and ran to meet them.
“What is it, mother? Shayla?”
Etaine came over and took his hand. Her wide grey eyes gazed at him and then at the anxious faces around her. “My son, everyone,” she said quietly. “The battle is lost. Arthur is dead with all his knights; his kingdom has been plunged into darkness and anarchy.”
A baffled silence greeted her words. No one seemed to understand what she was saying. “And father?” asked Darin.
Tears welled up in Etaine’s eyes and flowed unheeded down her cheeks. “Slain also, at Arthur’s side. Stella showed me where he lay on the battlefield. Together, we buried him by the stream at the edge of the Western Forest.”
Stella stood now at Etaine’s side. “He lies on the grassy bank where I first saw you, Darin,” she said. “We placed his shield over the grave and planted an oak sapling beside it. He shall watch over my stream forever, as I shall watch over his.”
Darkness swam before Darin’s eyes; a bitter taste came to his mouth. “So it is finished. There is nothing for us anymore.”
Stella’s eyes blazed. “Don’t say that! You and Shayla—you are the future. You must pass on your father’s blood and perpetuate his name.”
“Future?” Darin said, as Shayla’s hand found his. “But where?”
“My friends,” the sultan said. “You must all stay here with us.”
“No!” It was Broderic, who had been standing alone, his hands in his hair and his eyes wild. “No—I must go and find Tara.”
Shayla left Darin’s side and ran over to him. She took his hand and opened her mouth to speak. She said nothing, however, but looked at Etaine imploringly.
“Tara is safe,” Etaine said. “She has chosen to stay with Queen Quinevere.” Everyone looked at her. “You must understand,” she went on, “scarcely anyone escaped the great battle. Mordred led his army against the King far sooner than anyone expected. Arthur slew him before falling himself; they were among the last to die.”
“And what then?” asked Darin.
“Afterwards, certain barons, who were in league with the rebels but had not been on the battlefield, moved in and took over the central realm of Logres. The rest of the kingdom is being fought over by hordes of savage scavengers who come pouring in from over the seas scenting carrion.” Etaine put a hand on Broderic’s shoulder. “They have allowed Guinevere and a few of her companions—your Tara among them—to withdraw to a safe retreat where they may stay for the remainder of their lives. There are no men in their company, nor are they allowed any visitors. The barons regard the Queen as a potential threat.”
“Tell me where I can find her!” cried Broderic.
“Ah, Broderic,” Etaine replied, “if you or my son were to venture into their territory, the barons would certainly have you put to death. Tara begged me to say that, if you love her, you will forget her and leave her to comfort her Queen and protector.”
“Forget her? How can I both love and forget?”
Stella, who in the meantime had been back on board the boat, now approached Broderic, carrying something wrapped in a silk cloth.
“Tara sent you this,” she said gently, as she handed it over to him. “She embroidered the cloth, using her own hair.”
Broderic looked down at the object in his hands. The silk was worked with a pattern of flowers around the figure of a single stag, like the one on his shield.
“It’s your harp,” Stella said. “She wants you to promise not to look for her, but rather to go along with my brother on his quest, taking it with you and spreading tales of the glory that was Arthur’s Camelot where ever you go.”
Broderic stared at her blindly; unsteadily he walked to the edge of the pier and sat own, bowing his head over the harp in his hands. After a moment, Shayla went and settled herself quietly beside him.
“This is my brother, Oberon,” Stella then told the company, indicating the tall figure standing slightly apart from the rest. “He has come to take us on a strange journey, to follow a quest like none ever undertaken before. Listen to what he has to say.”
Oberon told them how he could move between worlds; how they could all make a new life for themselves in a place that was and, at the same time, was not their old home; how the stories they would bring with them of Arthur and his knights would be a gift and inspiration to the people there forever.
Darin tried his best, but he could make little sense out of what the man in the wide-brimmed hat was saying. He grimaced at his mother.
“I know it’s hard to understand,” said Etaine. “I’ve heard it all several times over by now and I think I’m just beginning to get the idea. I must say it does sound like the best chance you have of making a future for yourself with Shayla and me—if that’s what you want.”
Darin looked thoughtfully at Oberon. He was remembering how he had eventually come to understand and believe what Stella had told him about there being other worlds among the stars. This man was her brother, faerie like herself; perhaps his words too would one day cease to seem like nonsense.
“Yes, that is what I want,” he said. He nodded to Oberon. “I will go with you.”
“Good.” Oberon glanced at Broderic. “And your companion?”
Broderic stood and turned to face them. “I heard your words,” he said. “I confess I understand little of what you are saying, but I too am ready to go with you, if that’s what Tara wants.” He looked sorrowfully down at the harp he held a
t his side. “I shall pour all my love into this instrument, until the music of its strings carries my song straight to the hearts of all who may hear it as surely as the string of a longbow wings the arrow home to its target. From now on, this shall be my only endeavour: where so ever I go, I will make them listen. Arthur and the noble company of the Round Table shall not be forgotten.”
“I have no doubt of it!” answered Oberon.
“My friends,” said Brynn, “it seems you have found a quest worthy of you! As for me, since Arthur no longer requires the Green Knight’s axe, my task is over. I will stay here. Ever since we arrived on these shores, I have known this is where my destiny lies.”
Safira came and stood by his side. She looked at her father hopefully. The sultan nodded his approval, then turned to Brynn’s mother. “Your son is right, my lady,” he said. “His place is here. But he is young. He should have you near him still. Will you not also stay with us?”
“Gladly,” she replied. “Shayla, you have Darin now. Your brother needs me more than you do.” She embraced her daughter and held out her hand to Darin, who took it gratefully.
“So, what shall we do about the axe?” Darin asked Brynn. “As you are its master, you must decide.”
“The sultan wants it gone from his kingdom,” Brynn said, after a moment’s thought. “You and Broderic must take it with you and throw it into the sea, far from land. As long as it stays in its case, you should have no trouble with it.”
“A good decision!” said Sultan al-Din. “Then I can instigate the New Law in this realm. For a start,” he went on with a smile, “that sea captain who brought you here is a dishonest rogue, but I am told he is an excellent sailor. I shall let him keep his hands, poor devil, and put him to work pulling an oar on one of my galleys without pay. If he can keep out of mischief for a couple of years, I shall put his talents to use and give him a position in my fleet.”
“If that’s all decided, then, we must start at once,” Oberon said. “It’s nearly two days’ sail to the island of Avalon. I want to be there in time for the full moon.”
After more farewells, Darin, his mother, Shayla and Stella boarded the Ariel. Oberon said the horses had to stay behind.
“Brynn, you have been a good squire to me,” said Broderic. “But I think you have greater things ahead of you. River and Dart are yours now. Perhaps you and the Princess can exercise them occasionally.” Then he and Oberon followed the rest on board.
Brynn and Safira ran happily over to take the horses’ bridles; they whispered comforting words in their ears. Brynn’s mother and Sultan al-Din smiled at one another.
“Cast off!” called Oberon, when everybody was ready. Stella pulled in the last rope securing them to the jetty and they were on their way.