Guinevere (Book 1)

Chapter 6

I am riding my horse, Ivor, across the grassy wildflower plains and towards the magical woodland I used to play in as a child. It's my favourite place in the world. Quiet, peaceful and beautiful beyond words. I feel safe there. The wind rustles the leaves of the trees; they are whispering my name. I kick my steed into a gallop, following the whisper which gets louder encouraging me onwards, deeper into the woods. The trees get closer and thicker, making it hard for me to navigate with Ivor through.

Guinevere....Guinevere...

The voice is ahead of me still and I cannot yet see who or what is calling to me. But I must find out. I must.

Guinevere!

Deeper and darker into the woods I go. The trees are so close their branches claw at my body, tearing at my clothes. Ivor snorts and threatens to rear up. The voice is so loud it's ringing in my ears; where are they?

"Guin!"

This shout wakes me from my dream with a start and I see Enid standing over me. "Guin, wake up. It is morning at last, but not a happy one."

It takes me a moment to realise where I am; in the Great Hall, in an armchair. I rub my eyes, still heavy and full of sleep. My stomach lurches as I process what Enid has just said and I immediately look towards where Lancelot lies.

Seeing my panic-stricken face, Enid quickly eases my fears. "Oh goodness no, child; he lives. Although he does have a slight fever. I suspect there may be the start of an infection in his wounds, but the surgeon is coming to look soon."

I relax a little and yawn, "What other news?"

"We lost seventeen in the night, all with serious injuries. More have recovered enough to be moved to the dining hall, though, which is good."

"Poor souls, may they find peace. I'm glad men are recovering, though; let us hope this continues," I say, unfolding myself from the chair that has been my bed. Every limb aches and cracks as I stretch out fully.

As Enid continues to report on the night's activities, the surgeon arrives. He takes a swift look around the room and then finds who he is looking for. I watch him walk over and assess Lancelot as I listen to Enid. "Another messenger arrived in the night; the Saxons have retreated at last and King Arthur is going to be marching back here sooner than expected."

My head snaps back to my friend as I hear those wonderful words.

Relief floods my whole being and I beam at her. "Oh, that is such good news! Finally, there is an end to this bloodshed."

"Your Father came in while you slept, to see how things were going. He was going to tell you himself, but he did not want to wake you."

"I should have been awake..." I scold myself.

"Nonsense; even Princesses need to sleep, dearest."

"I suppose..."

"You'll be no good to anyone if you make yourself sick from exhaustion." She takes my hand and smiles, but her eyes look as tired as mine feel.

Rising from my chair, I walk over to where the surgeon is assessing Lancelot. I see little change in him, other than a light veil of perspiration is now covering his face and there is maybe a little flush of his cheeks.

"How is he?"

"Well, he has an infection in the wound in his chest and, as a result, he is starting to run a fever. He is a strong man, I dare say, but infections can be difficult to predict. It also depends on whether he has enough strength left to fight this. The next few days won't be pleasant for him; it's going to get worse before he gets better." He produces a bottle of ointment from his apron pocket and hands it to me. "Apply this tincture to the wound three times a day after cleaning it, and replace the dressings. Let me know if anything changes in the meantime, but I shall assess his condition daily."