Spring Maiden (New Book)

Smoke and Ruin

There was a loud knock at the door and Guinevere jumped from beneath him her eyes full of terror. He put his hand on her hair, "it's alright, I bolted it."

Her heart beat like a drum. What was this? Had someone seen Lancelot enter? Was it Arthur?

Who is it?" she cried, picking up her nightgown and pulling it on over her head.

"Fire, my lady. There's a fire!" came the voice of Diana.

She looked at Lancelot wide-eyed, and he too wore an expression of shock. A fire! How serious could it be?

"Go, my sweet," he said, kissing her gently. "I will follow."

She swallowed and nodded, slotting her feet quickly into her shoes, whilst grabbing a veil from the corner of the bed and throwing it over her hair. "Be quick, won't you?" she said.

"Yes, you have my word" he said, guiding her gently towards the door. She could hear in his voice that he was worried, although he kept his calm, poised exterior. She turned and saw him duck behind the bed, and when she could see he was hidden she slid open the iron bolt.

Immediately she smelt it. A deep charcoal scent, whilst her ladies stood waiting with their mouths buried in their sleeves.

"What happened?" she breathed, beckoning them down the corridor and towards the spiral staircase of the west wing.

She could not hear their replies, they were too muffled and before long she too did not dare to remove her hand from her mouth.

The smoke had become more visible, a deep fog, and as they descended the staircase they held hands, guiding each other. But her mind was also clouded with worry. Oh, how I hope Lancelot is just behind. I know only too well how perilous that drop from the window is. He needs to have left just after us!

At last, she felt no more stairs beneath her feet, only flat stone and with it the cool winter air. The door was open and they exploded out into the courtyard, coughing and gasping for breath. Outside was chaos, people running and shouting, children screaming. What Guinevere noted immediately was the source of the fire. The banquet hall! It was not far from her wing, just yards from where they stood, where a thick black smoke streamed through its roof and windows.

She saw men on their horses launch towards it with buckets. And hordes more gallop through the gates, their arms loaded with pales.

"We must join them!" she cried to her maidens. "They need all the bodies they can get."

"But my Queen-" cried Aina, the youngest girl. She was really only a child, the daughter of Gawaine's. She had taken into her workforce really as a favour, for apparently the child was a great admirer of hers. But her age did not matter right now.

Aina," she said flipping her veil away from her face and leaning towards the young dark-haired girl, "have you not learned to ride yet?"

"Yes," she stammered, looking down, her lower lip trembling.

"Can you canter?" asked Guinevere.

She looked up with her big blue eyes, and nodded.

"Then to the stables!" she shouted. "That's an order."

One by one they lifted their nightgowns and scurried across court.

***

Guinevere slid from her horse, exhausted and shattered in every way. She felt as though she had been hung drawn and quartered and emotionally she was a ruin.

She lost her footing on the stirrup as she descended and tumbled to the ground, only to feel somebody's arms around her just before she hit it.

She looked up hopefully. It was Arthur.

"Husband," she panted, leaning into his arms for a while.

"Oh my brave Queen," he said. Kissing her head.

She held him for a while, feeling tearful. For hours now she had ridden back and forth from the river, filling the buckets with water and then mounting her horse, riding furiously back to the castle where she then flung the remaining quarter upon the flames.

"Is it over?" she asked, her body limp.

"Yes, darling, we have beaten the fire. When I first saw the smoke, I thought we were doomed, that we would lose our precious home here in Camelot, and worse the entire kingdom. But every child and grown adult rose up to the threat."

Guin smiled as relief flooded through her. She remembered seeing the sweet children rushing from the river like little ducklings, cupping the water carefully in their hands.

"Camelot will see dawn again then?" she said.

"Yes, but I can't say the same for the banquet hall," said Arthur wearily, tilting her to the side slightly so she could see the ruins. Even in the dark, she could only see a few jagged planks remained, and that they were flanked with smoke. "I suppose it's a good thing we had one last feast," he said.

Guinevere sighed and steadied herself on her feet. Chaos surrounded them. She could see Gerraint gathering his young into his arms. "Is everyone alive?" she asked, turning to Arthur her eyes wide.

"I have not heard otherwise," said Arthur, "My knights are all here, asides from Gawaine and Lancelot.."

Her insides clenched. "Well, where is he?" she said shrilly.

"I assume you mean Lancelot?" said Arthur, his tone flat.

Guinevere was silent and Arthur reached for her nightgown and tugged it up over her shoulders. She was vaguely aware that it was still torn from earlier and hung indecently off her body.

She reached and fumbled with the ripped fabric, tying it into a knot to conceal her breasts. Well, she had the fire as an excuse for that, at least.

"Both of them," she said eventually through tears.

"Lancelot went with Gawaine to look for Aina. He said he couldn't find her."