Warriors of Camelot

Chapter 19: Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures

"Raven!" 

Without hesitation, Gwen rushed forward and cradled Raven's head in her arms. The slightest sob escaped her and before she knew it, Gwen was weeping so hard that tears rushed down her cheeks like swollen rivers.  Oh, how she hated feeling so helpless! There was another time when she'd been in a very similar position- only it was her own father  who'd been in need of help, as he lay on his death bed at the mercy of a deadly plague. Thankfully, he'd recovered, but Gwen narrowly escaped death herself after she was arrested on suspicion of sorcery. If it hadn't been for Merlin, then she certainly would have met an untimely end that she didn't like to dwell on. All those painful memories rushed back to Gwen, making her cry even harder. Yet more tears rushed down her cheeks and soaked through Raven's hair, but Gwen didn't notice. Nothing mattered to her right now except for the feeling of hopelessness that lingered in heart. She didn't even care if the guards found her here any more. Right now, the possibility of anyone - whether it was the guards, Merlin or even Arthur- who might be able to help her down here was a  far more desirable option to Gwen than not getting any help at all.

Just when Gwen thought that her heart might break from sorrow, a shadow fell over the cell. Sniffing slightly, she wiped a stray tear from her left eye and glanced up, expecting to see the guards gazing at her in a rather disapproving manner. Frightened and rather overcome by her emotions, Gwen staggered away in alarm- but the figure standing before her was like no guard who she'd ever seen before. Tall and majestic, he stared at Gwen- and Raven- with large eyes that were dark with concern. By the flickering candlelight, Gwen could clearly make out a long cloak made from black feathers and knee-high boots (rather similar to Raven's). A thick beard covered the man's chin and raven feathers had been woven into his dark hair. 

 Gwen rose obediently- albeit rather unsteadily- to her feet. 

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, sweeping a rather wobbly curtsey. "I didn't mean to..."

She stopped as a gentle hand came to rest on her shoulder. Swallowing hard, Gwen allowed herself to raise her head. The man was staring at her with such a kind expression that Gwen instantly felt at ease. Whoever this man was, he clearly meant no harm. Was he magical? She couldn't tell. Then again, Gwen had learnt by now the lengths that sorcerers (in fact, all magical beings) went to hide their powers. Mind you, in a land where magic was outlawed on pain of death, it was no surprise, really. 

"You have no need to apologise, Guinevere," the stranger  gently reassured her. "Anyone who looks after Raven in my absence deserves gratitude, especially times as hard as these."

Gwen drew back in alarm.

"I beg your pardon, sir," she began, doing her upmost best to remain polite at all times, just as her father had taught her to; "but how do you know my name?"

The man grinned. "I've been watching you since you arrived, though you didn't see me."

For a moment, Gwen didn't know what to say. She had so many questions that she wanted to ask, but where did she begin? Wait... There was one thing that she had to establish first and foremost, so that question seemed like a good place to start. 

"Who are you, sir?"

During the silence that followed,  the man turned his head slightly, as though he was considering the matter at hand. 

"They once called me Raven," he replied; "but my days as protector are long gone. Now I'm known to all as Raven Of Old." 

Though she knew that it was rude to do so, Gwen couldn't help but stare at Raven Of Old and then the figure who lay motionless in her arms. No-one else except Gwen herself knew that right now, her heart was thumping wildly.