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The older knight was smiling from ear to ear as Nightclaw and I came towards them.
“You do that every time you see one of them, you know,” I observed.
Sir Ector continued beaming. “I’ll never get over the sight. They’re incredible animals. Absolutely incredible. It’s a privilege to simply have seen them. The honor of a lifetime to have been able to care for one.”
Nightclaw made a deep rumbling sound as if acknowledging the truth of what Sir Ector had just said.
“You have a lot in common with Hawl, you know, Nightclaw. Don’t let it all go to your head,” I chided, running my hand along his sleek side. “All of this attention. I suppose you’ll want me to buy you a stuffed Sunstrike at the market to bring back to her next.”
The exmoor chuffed forbearing as if to say I was being ridiculous.
Sir Ector laughed. “He understands every word we say, doesn’t he?”
“They both do,” I confirmed.
“Marvelous,” Sir Ector said with no less wonderment. “The intelligence of these creatures. Why, we have no idea what they’re really capable of.”
I cleared my throat. “Did Lancelet tell you she’s about to ride one?” I felt a little bad, as I realized Sir Ector would have loved the experience just as much if not more as my irascible friend. But it was too late. Perhaps Nightclaw would be very, very patient with me and concede to take my dear mentor for a ride another time.
“What an honor,” Sir Ector breathed, looking at Lancelet with delight. “Are you nervous?”
Lancelet did indeed look a little nervous. Her fair skin had paled a little as Nightclaw had approached. Now her lips thinned decisively. “No. Not at all. Why should I be?”
“Of course, you aren’t,” Sir Ector said encouragingly. “Why, you’ve...”
I knew exactly how he’d meant to finish that sentence. Fortunately, he caught himself. “You’ve done much braver things.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a small task for one such as you. I won’t deny, I’m envious.”
“Well,” I said quickly, “we’d better go.” I flashed Sir Ector a smile. “But it’ll be your turn soon. I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said cheerfully, watching as I climbed onto Nightclaw’s back, then helped Lancelet clamber up behind me.
If we had gone straight to the temple, we would have been in the air only a few moments.
So instead, I gave Nightclaw free rein, instructing him only not to stray too far.
We circled over Camelot, flying over familiar sights. The castle, the markets, the temple.
I caught sight of the arena Arthur and Fenyx had used to test Excalibur. I had sat in the royal stands while Lancelet had been down on the sand. From where she was perched behind me, I felt her tense up. She’d seen it, too.
We flew out further, passing over the Greenbriar River where the harsh stone lines of the Temple of Perun held my gaze. Perched defiantly on a small island in the middle of the river, the temple’s aura of conquest and cruelty clashed with its serene surroundings.
I remembered what Guinevere had said as we stood outside the temple that night. The temple should never have been built in such a place. For the isle was named Avalon, and even Guinevere, an outsider from Lyonesse, had known the legends—that the place was said to be one of the seats of the goddesses’ power.
At that moment, as the armies of Tintagel and Lyonesse had stood on the riverbank opposite us, I had wondered what she had meant precisely. I still wondered now.
She had said they could not touch us there.
But would the island itself have stopped them? Or had Guinevere meant herself? Or me?
We passed over the island and flew across the countryside. Below us, a patchwork quilt of green fields unfolded. Emerald-hued farmland, tidy hedgerows, and quaint villages.
Small cottages with thatched roofs and smoke curling from chimneys nestled amidst the lush and peaceful hills and valleys. Nightclaw’s wings beat with powerful grace as we traveled over meadows filled with bright spring flowers, streams glinting like silver snaking through the landscape, and woodlands with their canopies a mass of vibrant greens.
“It looks so peaceful down below,” Lancelet said from behind me, echoing my thoughts. “As if nothing has changed.”
But it wasn’t the truth. The villages might look untouched, but they had faced losses of their own. They had given their sons and daughters to Arthur’s war. Who knew how deep their sorrows ran.
In the city, the people had lost not only soldiers, but their youngest, most precious children. The babies my brother had slaughtered, blinded as he had been by a cryptic prophecy.
