A Week with a Prince

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖍𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝕹𝖎𝖓𝖊

Ginny was just about to enter the cold, ill-lit refectory, trailing behind a small group of nuns she had met in the corridor, when Morag and sister Mary appeared at both her sides.

The freezing air trapped within their clothes made her shiver as it spread around her. Had they been outside together? She mused, her eyes flickering between the two girls, Mary's conspiratorial smile confirming her suspicions even as the young nun dropped her gaze to the stone floor and preceded Ginny and Morag into the long and narrow, already crowded room.

"What... Why did you tell her...?" Ginny whispered to Morag over the rustling of skirts and other whispered conversations echoing off the damp walls around them, shaking her head disapprovingly. She didn't want Mary or any other nun to get in trouble on her behalf.

"I didn't," Morag said as they sat at the table, the wooden bench feeling ice-cold even through the layers of their robes. "She was waiting for me in the stable. Somehow, she overheard what the Abbess told you and thought that we would want to leave. She wants to help. We will talk to her together after dinner, on our way to the chapel. We have already carried our bags to the horses..."

Ginny nodded, then bowed her head like the other sisters. The room fell silent for the prayers; this wasn't the time to speak.

They ate without talking or even meeting each other's eyes, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. After the meal was over, the three of them trailed behind the sisters headed for the chapel.

Ginny finally looked at sister Mary inquiringly in the gloomy corridor, begging her to speak.

And she did, after she glanced into the dark shadows pooling along the damp walls surreptitiously, to make sure that no one was within hearing distance.

"Don't call the barge," she said, her eyes flickering between Morag and Ginny. "The men would inform the Abbess."

"Then... how are we to leave the island?" Ginny asked, looking over her shoulder, exasperation threatening to suffocate her resolve to escape. Even if they found an empty boat, it would take her and Morag too long to try to row across the lake, with their horses...

"You must find the horse path. I have never seen it myself, but some sisters have."

Even as sister Mary said that, Ginny recalled one of Myrddin's old tales. Avalon was almost an island, it said... And Avalon... was on the same island as Glastonbury, only in some enchanted realm existing separately from their reality... Ginny still couldn't quite wrap her mind around that idea, but it was not important now. The only thing that mattered was that this place was almost an island, a peninsula then... Sister Mary must be right, there must be a hidden path somewhere leading to the shore across the waters of the Lake, which they could use without being seen by the ferrymen.

"You'll leave through the kitchens, as Morag said. Your horses are out in the herb garden. Make sure to grab a torch, but don't light it until you reach the Lake. It's the night of the full moon, and the clouds have cleared. You should have enough light to reach the path leading up to the top of the Tor. Don't go to the tower though, turn around and find its other end, where it leads towards the water. The horse path should be somewhere close by. You'll have to walk in the water-- it's completely submerged this time of the year, but it should never get too deep... I'll pray to God it's true. Promise you'll return if it gets too dangerous, I'll be waiting for you in the chapel the whole night!" The girl's eyes were wide with fear and excitement as they reached the end of the corridor. "My God, I want to help you, I hope I'm not sending you to your death..." She let Ginny pull her into a quick embrace as they followed the other nuns into the convent's chapel.

"Thank you, Mary," Ginny whispered in her ear before they separated, lest the good sister should be suspected of her and Morag's disappearance when it would be noticed in the morning.

The princess couldn't force her mind to follow the evening service. Giving up, she let her eyes rest on the multitude of candles flickering in the semi darkness, filling the stale air with the scent of melting wax. Her thoughts strolled freely towards the adventure, waiting for her and Morag beyond the walls of the convent. It might not be easy to leave the island, but she had to try...

Finally, the last prayers were over, and sister Mary, without another glance at them, followed the other nuns out of the chapel, while Ginny and Morag lingered behind. When they were alone, they exited the chapel too, but, unlike the nuns rushing towards their cells, they followed a corridor leading towards the kitchens. The door they needed to use was unlocked, thanks to Mary and Morag's preparations, and the horses were waiting for them just beyond, shrouded in the freezing darkness of the night. But it wasn't completely dark, Ginny realised the moment her eyes adjusted to the change. Just like Mary had said, the pale orb of the full moon shone high in the clear sky.

She patted Sir Lancelot's black horse whom she had adopted and whose name she had never learned, feeling suddenly happy despite the perils waiting for her in the night. Only now did she truly realise how bored and suffocated she had felt in the convent. The sheltered life wasn't for her, she missed the adventure. She also missed Lancelot, still, too much, she admitted to herself, bringing her cheek to his horse's warm snout.

"Now I'll take you to your master." She promised the horse in a low whisper as she wrapped herself in her cloak which she found attached to her saddlebag, before mounting and following Morag into the night, leaving the convent behind.

They rode along a path skirting the Lake's shore until it merged with the other one snaking up the hill towards the ancient tower. Morag stopped her horse and dismounted again then, waiting for Ginny to do the same, leaving her the lead.

"We don't need to light the torch, there's enough light... wait here..." Ginny said, passing her reins to her friend and taking a few tentative steps into the tall, thickly grown reeds and into the shallow waters directly opposite the path. When the reeds, swaying and whispering around her to the cool wind, thinned enough to leave a thread of a trail winding through the knee-high water, she was sure that she found the way to the dry land.

She rushed back and instructed Morag to follow her carefully. They stepped in the cold water, gritting their teeth to fight off the shivers caused by their flooded shoes, their robes soaked through nearly up to their waists... Well, they had enough spare clothes and would get changed the moment they reached the opposite shore and found a safe spot to lay a fire and pitch their tent, Ginny reasoned with herself.

Slowly, silently, the two girls trod along the submerged path, not seeing anything but the tall, swaying reeds and the moon making its way across the black sky as the time passed... It just reached the horizon when Morag, having suggested only a while ago to turn back, gasped.

Ginny followed her gaze into the surrounding blackness, noticing that it was replaced by a curtain of thick, strangely glowing fog. And beyond it, shimmering and unfocused, they saw the island they had left hours ago again...

No, it wasn't the same place, Ginny noticed as they walked through the mist, and finally their soaked shoes touched the dry, sandy shore covered with blooming apple trees in the part where the thick reeds should be, bathed in warm summer sunrise instead of the sunless winter dawn... And, on top of the Tor, the Tower was replaced by a ring of standing stones-- a Druid temple in the place of the Christian shrine...

"We are in Avalon," she muttered with absolute certainty.

The words left her on a deep sight even as her eyes filled with tears; the princess felt as if all the forces of all the worlds conspired to never let her reach her knight again.