Guinevere (Book 1)

Chapter 21

Birds are singing sweetly in the canopy above us. A few at first, then more and more join in the morning chorus. I smile but keep my eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of Lancelot beneath the cocoon of cloaks. His arms around me and his chest rising and falling steadily creates a serenity I never want to leave. I wonder if he fell asleep during the night or if he is just lightly resting and is still alert. Either way, I don't want to stir him and ruin the peace between us. Despite all that happened yesterday evening, I feel completely safe wrapped up with him beneath this tree.

The light intensifies gradually as the sun comes up fully and I reluctantly open my eyes. I feel Lancelot stir shortly afterwards. He takes in a long breath then yawns, his arms loosening around me as he does, which makes my heart sink a little.

"Mm... Guinevere? Are you awake?" the knight asks through a second yawn.

"Yes, I am awake. The early birdsong woke me."

"There is no better way to wake, although, how I find us here is better still I think."

I cannot help but grin; "You should not say such things, Lancelot."

Lancelot sighs; "You're right, I should not."

The feeling of contentment melts away as we both come back to reality. It is quickly replaced with apprehension after the events of yesterday and images of fighting and killing the bandit flash uncontrollably, once again, through my mind.

I shift my position so that there is some distance between us I ask; "So, what shall we do now?"

He stretches out his limbs; "Knowing Arthur, he will have set off at first light to find us. We should retrace our steps in the direction of the camp and, with any luck, we shall come across one another."

I nod in agreement; "Alright. Though, how do we know which direction to go in? It was almost dark when we arrived here."

Lancelot's mouth curves upwards; "You don't get to my rank without learning a thing or two about tracking. Don't worry; I will find traces of where we came from and we shall be back in no time."

"In that case, I shall follow you whenever you are ready to depart."

His eyes flash momentarily as he looks away from me; "We should go now if you're ready; I'm sure Arthur will already be searching for us. He and your Father will want to know you're safe." 

There is something in those words that lacks conviction. Aware of my eyes still on him, he quickly stands and pulls his sword from the Earth and returns it to its sheath. Offering me a hand, he helps me to my feet. For this, I am grateful; my limbs are completely stiff from being curled up in the hollow all night. Brushing myself down, I watch Lancelot looks for signs of where we had walked through the area last night. He quickly picks up a trail and gestures to me to follow him.

As we walk, I look at my hand with which I wielded the dagger against the bandit. Most of the blood has been washed away after using the water from Lancelot's waterskin, but there are still traces of rusty brown between the creases of my fingers and under my nails. Panic begins to rise within me and quickly return my hands to my sides. Taking a deep breath and falling in step a little closer to Lancelot, I wish that he would put his arm around me, to notice my fear and hold me like he did last night. All he did was comfort me as any friend would; I was scared and in shock. But I cannot ignore the feelings that first ignited for him in the woods in Cameliard returned, for me at least, last night. Feelings that are forbidden, that I cannot allow myself to feel. I thought that the distance we had been keeping from each other was working, but apparently, it has made little difference. I don't know which of these realisations hurts more.