Camelot

III

The royal city was absolutely stupendous, the walls of the castle we're easily seen over them small houses in the town below, while the castles towers were high enough to see for miles. The whole castle was made from a high quality stone with proud red flags flying high with a dragon emblem for Camelot. The streets we passed were full with people of all kinds selling and trading goods. The smell of freshly baked bread allured me, and as the carriage momentarily stopped I jumped out and followed the smell. It was so addictive and I would up next to a bakery in the edge of town.

“Guinevere! Don't just take off like that, you could get hurt.” Sir Lancelot grabbed my arm when he caught up with me.

All the people on the street was staring at me, they must not see many highly dressed people walk through their streets.

“I see, you found the bakery. Are you ready to meet your father?” Sir Lancelot asked me.

My father, I hadn't even thought about him, the smell was just so captivating. “I'll leave you here so I can get my next assignment from King Uther. I shall be back for you at nightfall. I shall leave the Coachman here with you in case you would like to leave earlier for any reason.” Sir Lancelot understood. “He knows I'd be bringing you, go on in.”

He left without another word as I was left standing outside the bakery door. I took a deep breath before grabbing the handle but it was suddenly swung open and I was pushed into a small mud pile. “I'm sorry miss, I didn't expect any customers today. Do come in there's not much here but maybe you'll find something to evoke the senses.” An older man helped me stand up.

He lead me into the bakery as the smells surrounded me. “You have wicken blood. You can sense the powers enstowed in the breads.” He smiled.

“Sorry you must be mistaken, I have no idea what that is.” I timed away in fear.

“You smelled the bread, only someone with wicken blood can. I charmed it to help people but the side effect is that you can't sell it. But the power doesn't work on wickens so they can smell the bread. Show me your crest.” The man shut the door behind us.

“What crest? I'm not a wicken.”

“You can't deny it the power is within you. I can sense it, now show me your crest!” He yelled.

“I'm sorry I can here then. You tell the baker why his daughter never showed up, because I won't be coming back around to the likes of you!” I let my Wolam fierceness show, I didn't want to deal with any trouble in this city and I wasn't going to be executed for something I'm not.

“Wait!” He shouted as I reached for the handle. He grabbed my arm and instantly pulled up my left sleeve to my elbow revealing a scorch mark over the once Wolam Witch symbol I had. “You are Guinevere.’

I yanked my arm away from the man as quickly as I could. “Are you him them?”

“No my sweet child, your father went to find Sir Lancelot. He noticed his carriage coming into the gates and we're hoping you were with him.”

“I was, the smell called to me and I got out of the carriage and found myself in front of your door. But I am no wicken sir.”

“I'll leave that to your father to explain. For now it's good to finally meet you. Your mother seemed quite upset when she barhed in here, made your father swear to keep you as far away from King Uther and Prince Arthur as possible.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Uther's laws about magic, she wanted to protect you. Especially if he would find your scorch mark over your symbol. It her once was in love with your mother, and they had a child. One of your sisters are the sole heir to the throne of Camelot, and if he finds out what you were you'll be executed in fear of being her. King Uther wants his son to be in the throne, he wants to be rid of anyone claiming they have any sort of magic, but a Wolam Witch would be a definite death.”