Gerraint came around when the sun returned, but this time it came as a more normal sunrise. Granted, the sun reached near noon in only a couple of hours, but it appeared relatively normal all the same.
“Land!” Lolly was the first to shout.
“Land!” Trevor echoed from the helm.
“Make ready to come ashore,” Macreedy shouted. “Lower the sail, and be quick.” Everyone helped, and not especially quick, but from the way the land grew in their sight, it seemed as if they were in a speed boat. Before then, no one knew how fast they were really going.
“We’re going to crash.” Gwynyvar hid her face in her hands.
“Keep her dead on.” Macreedy ordered. Trevor did not argue, but he closed his eyes. Gwillim already started praying. Arthur and Lancelot had Gwynyvar between them in case they were needed to cushion her fall when they crashed. Uwaine came up to stand in the bow beside Gerraint. Bedivere and old Peredur followed. Gerraint, however, turned and got Luckless’ attention.
“Keep watch over your charge,” he said and made sure that Lolly also heard. Arthur and Lancelot were both hard in battle, but they were fish out of water themselves, and could hardly be counted on to protect the Lady.
“Lord,” Luckless acknowledged the reminder.
The dock came up fast. Uwaine and Peredur involuntarily squinted, expecting a terrible crash. Bedivere had to look to the side, but as it turned out, they missed the dock and it now looked as if they were going to crash right up on the shore. Everyone held on to whatever they could grab, but the ship came to an instant and absolute stop, their momentum and inertia rose up in something like a bubble and rushed into the sky, while not one of them so much as leaned forward at the stop.
“You missed the dock.” Gerraint pointed out that they landed nearly a foot away.
Macreedy and Gerraint went to throw ropes around the posts and heave the boat closer to the planks. “Amateur at the rudder,” Macreedy said. “And don’t rub it in.”
Gerraint laughed, while the others came up to help, and soon enough they were up on the dock and headed toward the shore.
“Keep together and watch your back.” Arthur gave some general instructions as they began to walk down the dock. They stopped a few feet before the end. Two men waited there. One looked blond, middle aged and dressed like a king. The other looked dark, dressed in black, and as old as Peredur. No one knew them until Gerraint squinted.
“Gwyn?” He guessed at the younger one.
“And Pwyll.” The older man gave his name. Gerraint would have never guessed since he had aged so much.
“Enid?” Gerraint asked
“The treasures?” Arthur asked.
“Safe,” Pwyll answered.
“That Formor wanna-be, Abraxas left when he knew you were coming,” Gwyn said, and he added a word. “Coward.”
“And Talesin has gone into hiding,” Pwyll said, but he smiled.
“The ghostly hands and cauldron.” Uwaine put two and two together. Arthur and Lancelot looked up, stern anger on their faces. But Pwyll and Gwyn laughed.
“Fat lotta good it will do him,” Gerraint said. He began to walk up toward the house and everyone followed.
“How many are there?” Bedivere asked. Lancelot looked. He should have thought to ask that question.
“Well young squire,” Gwyn said, affably. “I should say eight, but I suppose you mean six. There is old Pelenor and his friend Ederyn, the Raven and his druid, and two men at arms who follow the Raven.”
“Nine on six is not bad,” Arthur said.
“Eleven,” Macreedy corrected him.
“Ten,” Luckless said without explanation, but he and Lolly were side by side with Gwynyvar, and Luckless fingered his ax.
The house appeared a simple thatched cottage from the outside. It seemed an idyllic scene, like the home of a gentle fisherman and his wife, set out to overlook the sea. There were even flowers in the garden. Gerraint knew better. He opened the door without knocking, and they stepped into a vast hall where they saw row after row of great oak tables and a vast, distant fire burning in a great stone fireplace in the center of the room.
Enid looked tied to a chair at a nearby table, and gagged. Guimier was allowed to play at her mother’s feet. Four men sat around the table on all four sides, like men arguing four different propositions, which they were. The two men at arms held back, but kept an eye on the mother and child.
As the company entered, Pelenor looked up, but his eyes looked defeated already. Ederyn smiled, briefly. The druid stood suddenly, having been seated across from the lady. His chair fell back and clattered to the floor while the druid fingered his sword, but he did not draw it. Urien quickly drew his knife and placed it at Enid’s throat.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Urien said through his teeth.
Arthur and his men spread out. Luckless and Lolly kept Gwynyvar by the door. Her impulse had been to run to her friend, but of course, that would have been foolish.
Gwyn and Pwyll stepped up beside Gerraint. “Cannot interfere, you know,” Gwyn whispered in Gerraint’s ear.
“I would like a visit with this lovely child, though,” Pwyll said. Guimier began to rise from the floor. The men at arms looked at each other, but did not know what to do. Gummier giggled and floated into Pwyll’s arms. Everyone stared, but Guimier shouted.
“Daddy!” Gerraint touched his daughter and smiled.
“Thank you Pwyll,” Gerraint said, and Pwyll nodded, tickled Guimier in the stomach and looked on her like a grandfather might look on a favorite grandchild.
“Now tell me about this doll of yours,” Pwyll said, as the stepped back outside.
Urien grabbed Enid by the hair and pressed his knife close to the throat, but it did no good. Enid simply vanished out of his hand and appeared beside the blonde God. He whispered in Enid’s ear, and Enid giggled with a look at Gerraint. Then they walked out, Enid and Gwynyvar hugging, and Luckless and Lolly following. Luckless alone glanced back once. He was going to miss it.
Don’t you miss it. The end of the story… Until Then, Happy Reading