Balin and Columbine (A Children of the May Novella - Book 1.5b)

Chapter Twenty-Three: Alarum

Columbine had been standing still behind the arras for so long her legs were burning. The water oozing across the floor of Lady Neave’s retiring room was doing nothing to cool them.

Lancelot did not stayed long after the daughter of the Lake started to weep. He assured the Lady he would ride off to find the child Galahad at once, and left the room. After that the Lady Neave had turned to the drink. Columbine had listened as the terrible lady sobbed her way through at least one, and possibly as many as three bottles of wine. And when the Lady of the Lake sobbed, she did not drop stray, casual tears; she created puddles that slopped across the floor. The girl from Vellion prayed to her gods that the door of the retiring room was not too flush to the floor, and that enough tears were leaking out onto the staircase to stop the place being submerged. She was lucky that her stupid shoes were so stupidly high, as they prevented her feet getting wet; she had heard something about water-magicians and their ability to hear the thoughts of others through water. She dreaded to think what would happen if the tears filled the room, and the Lady Neave became aware of her presence. She didn’t think the woman would take kindly to having had either her conversation with Lancelot, or the persistent drunken muttering against Lady Nemue overheard.

Music intermittently drifted through the window from below. It was faint, and could only be heard properly when the wind blew in a certain direction. Thus Columbine heard a fanfare, and a little later parts of a haunting song about love being a killer. After that, snatches of different tunes for dancing made their way up into the room until, after two hours or so, a great alarm interrupted the festivities. It began with a single horn from far, far below, which seemed to resonate through the side-tower. Soon it was joined by bells, trumpets, a great clamour of voices in the courtyards and gardens, and booted feet running up and down the stairs outside the retiring room.

It was only when the noise reached its peak that it attracted Lady Neave’s curiosity. The lady collected herself and make her way to the door. The door opened, shifting a wave of water back across the room. The daughter of the Lake went out onto the stairs. Columbine gave the witch a moment to come back in, and, when she did not, made a break for it, throwing the arras to one side and racing for the door.

Once outside she smoothed down her scarlet dress as much as she could, and made her way down the stairs of the side-tower. She half-expected Sir Garlon to be waiting for her, but there was no sign of the Knight Invisible, although that was no guarantee he wasn’t there. She crossed the slim bridge that connected the side-tower to the central thrust of the castle, and looked into the grounds. There was utter confusion in the torchlight: lords, ladies, knights and King Pellam’s servants ran this way and that.

‘My lady? What are you doing my lady?’

A handsome young guard was crossing the bridge towards her from the central tower.

‘I’m sorry, I fell asleep,’ said Columbine. She giggled in imitation of the kind of girl she didn’t like very much. ‘I fear I had too much to drink at the feast, and now I’m lost.’ She pretended to stagger and reached out to the guard for support. He caught her arm gladly. Columbine hated pretending to be stupid; the only comfort it offered was in showing up how easily fooled other people were, particularly men. ‘Tell me: have I just come from the first side-tower or the second?’

‘The second, my lady.’

‘That explains why I had such difficulty finding my chamber. But what is all this terrible noise about?’

‘You won’t believe it, my lady. The champion of the lower lists and some girl-bard have just tried to steal King Pellam’s spear. Shall I take you to your chamber? The bandits are loose in the castle somewhere; it might be not safe for you.’