Fateful Voyage; A Tale of Albion - II

II

The next morn, there was many a hangover gathered around the East Gate of Camelot. Horses were being readied for the journey in the large courtyard; Brave Griffons strode or staggered around upon the grass, depending upon their state of consciousness.

In the nearby hamlet of Cotswold, not far from the great drawbridge, was a modest inn. Upstairs, Caddan looked out the window of a modest room, and after washing from a basin in the corner, pulled on his tunic, and buckled his swordbelt on.

Trema sat upon the bed, drawing off her nightgown and pulling her breeches on. Caddan watched her with a slight smile as he laced his boots; he enjoyed watching his love dress.

As she stood up to button her top, he took her in his arms once more and kissed her lingeringly. She responded, and then when the kiss ended, she smiled and tightened his swordbelt for him.

"Was hopin' ye'd take it off again, like ye did last night." Caddan's eyes lit as he leaned forward to hiss her hair. "None a that now, Caddan McClannad", laughed Trema, her red hair tumbling free down her back. "Yer already late, an' I don't want ya branded a deserter for one more fling in tha bed!"

"Twould be worth it lass," Caddan said in a low voice. They smiled at each other, and kissed one last time, a gentle, slow kiss.

They gathered up his gear and walked down the narrow stairs, walking out of the Inn towards the East Gate of the capitol.

Several Griffons halloed at Trema, she being a popular Highland lass, known for standing toe to toe with Caddan in arguments and tongue-lashing every fool in sight, which when the Griffons were around, seemed to be many. They loved her feisty spirit as much as Caddan did. Caddan noticed Merton off to one side, dressed in an elegant riding outfit, attended by a servant; the men nodded wordlessly at each other.

As he readied his horse, Trema gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Bring 'im back to me in one piece now," she said to the Griffons. A chorus of shouts assured her they would, and Caddan kissed her one last time and mounted up, moving out with the column of riders moving out the East Gate.

The day was a fair one, and they made good time, crossing Prydwen Bridge and heading towards the Salisbury Plains.

Caddan rode with his group of friends, in the main body with the Griffons. They boasted, they lied, they joked; the usual fare of Highland conversation.

When they stopped to water the horses and stretch their legs at West Downs, Caddan noticed some stony looks from the Briton guards and merchants there. As he fed his horse, his mind wandered to what his father had told him when he had come into his maturity.

His father had told him the night he had left Humberton to take service in Camelot: "Don't let them in the City look down upon ye as a brute as some a those fancy-pants Brits are wont ta do. Be proud a who ye are, and what ye serve. Be loyal and honorable, and show them what it means ta be a Highlander, a man of his word."

He had striven to follow his father's advice; as a guard stared at him, he smiled and nodded his head. The guard turned away, and Caddan laughed. "That one there by the trough, looks like he keeps his spear up his arse" he told Sheymus, who was drinking from his wineskin and blew a froth of wine out of his nose as he choked with laughter. Red Donald yelled for a Cleric, and the Griffons nearby broke into loud laughter.

'See how they like the laughter,' thought Caddan. But he knew the difference between a good and a miserable man had nothing to do with his race, and everything to do with what was inside of him.

They continued on, across the Plains, stretching on for miles. Caddan saw the faint outlines of the standing stones of the fabled Barrows in the distance, shimmering in the noonday heat.

"What be the name a the bloody boat we are takin' agin?" a voice called out from behind him.

" 'Lyonesse Victory' , of the Regent's Fleet" another answered.

"They have an inn aboard, do they?"

"Jest what they need, half the Highlanders fallin' overboard!"

A laugh broke out up and down the line of horses.

By mid-afternoon, they had passed the great cairns where the undead roam at night, and then a tower was visible off to the left of the road, and a great line of trees stretched out as far as the eye could see in front of them.

"Campacorentin Forest," Caddan said to no one in particular.

The forest was very dense, very large; full of strange beings, giant spiders, ruins, and Arthur knew what else. Fortunately, the road, although narrower in the wood, was well-worn. Caddan felt the air cool around him as they passed under the trees; he inhaled the damp, moldy, ancient smell.

As they rode, Caddan was suddenly aware of a horse and rider that had joined the party; a featureless figure, dressed in woodsman's green and brown, with hood raised. What looked like a wolf followed the horse. Some nearby horses whinnied and shied away.

"Hunt, Wolf," the rider said, and the animal bounded off into the woods. Caddan realized the rider was a woman.

After a while, as evening swiftly approached in the dark wood, lights were visible up ahead."That be Ulfwych!" Red Donald cried, relief obvious in his
voice. Many of the Highlanders felt uneasy in the wood as night closed in upon them.

The tower and castle of Caer Ulfwych stood in a clearing at a fork in the road ahead, its torchlit battlements revealing a few guardsmen, a woodsman or two returning with fresh kills slung over their shoulders, and several adventurers clad in bright outfits. Ulfwych was the nearest settlement to Keltoi Foghu, the deadly labyrinth away to the southeast. A small village with merchants had grown next to the castle; not a large place, but a welcome sight for a weary traveler not wishing to face the Forest at night.

As the party dismounted, trumpets were blown, and Lord Ulfwych himself appeared to greet them at the gates, and made arrangements to stable their mounts. They were welcomed into the courtyard, where there were basins of water set out to wash up. The castle Steward informed them of a dinner in the main hall to be held in their honor, and a small cheer went up from the Griffons, who never were ones to miss a free feed.

The dinner that night was more of a feast to Caddan's mind. Ale flowed, and there was venison and quail aplenty, plain fare to some, but satisfying to the Highlanders. The large room was set with extra tables and benches so that the whole party could fit; torches lit the room, and fireplaces blazed merrily. Talking and laughter filled the hall.

Suddenly, a man in the livery of Ulfwych stood and called out, "Livia! A tale!"

Heads turned, until all were looking upon the lass who had joined their party wordlessly in the forest; she was plainly dressed in woodsman's garb, and had been eating by herself in the corner. As she looked up, Caddan saw she was a Briton, plain of face, and seemed not used to the attention.

She spoke in a clear voice. "Good Thomas, you interrupt these Brave Griffons at their feast. None would be interested in a simple huntress's tale."

The man shook his head and smiled. "A simple huntress? I think not. Livia is well-known in the Forest, good Sirs, being of sharp eye and good wit. These gentlemen have not heard how you came to have a wolf from Midgard as a pet!"

There was a stir in the room as all there looked to see Livia; she reluctantly stood, and smiling briefly, she spoke:

"Good gentlemen, I will keep this short, as you have had a long journey, and would rather drink ale than attend to my ramblings. I am Livia, and have been a Scout in Albion's service for years now, finding the solitary life in the woodlands to my liking. I supply the towns and castles with what I bring down with my bow, and have occasionally taken service in the Frontier."

"It was on such a foray, not a year ago, that I found myself in the snowy wilds of Uppland, near Fensalir Faste, scouting out the forces of Midgard for a raid by the Golden Lions. Ever brash, they had wanted to strike the foe at Svasud Faste itself, the gateway to the Frontier for the northern races."

"I think I'm in love, Caddan McClannad" whispered Sheymus next to him. Caddan knew the reputation of the area she spoke about, and knew what kind of skill it took a lone Scout to penetrate all the way through Uppland.

"I had made a small snow-cave in the brush alongside a steep hill for shelter, and was leaving it to roam the area once more. I heard shouts and the clash of steel upon steel, and ran towards the sound. I saw a troop of Golden Lions fighting the foe, Norse and Trolls, in the snow. I slew two Norse who never saw me until my arrows bit deep."

"And then I saw the blood in the snow. I followed a trail to see a little Kobold lass, leaning against a tree; a mortal wound had caught her, and she was dying. She had dark purple skin, and I could not understand her words. But she smiled at me, and with the last strength she had left, she conjured up a wolf, as her kind are skilled to do. I raised my bow, but she pointed at me, and the wolf came to my side and stood there panting; I reached out and stroked its rough fur, and it licked my hand.
The Kobold Huntress laughed a bit, and then she died."

"Ever since, Wolf has been by my side, and a good hunting companion. The dying gift from one woman to another, so to speak." She drank from her mug, and scattered applause rang out for her tale, as others toasted her. "To womanhood! To Livia!"

After a round of drinking, Caddan felt tired, and climbed the stairs to find one of the rooms set aside for the Griffons. As he looked down the stone corridor, he saw a door open at the far end of the hall; a man was framed in the light of the doorway, and another figure joined him there. The figure walked out of the room, the door closing behind her. Caddan suddenly recognized the purple robe and cloak of the lass in the Church. As she walked by him, she gave him a smile; she was absolutely beautiful, blonde hair spread over her shoulders, blue, penetrating eyes; and an air about her that bespoke...promise? Or was it mockery? She strode past him, and he smelled the scent of lilac. He turned to look, but she had gone into another room.

Caddan found a room, with two other Griffons already snoring off the feast upon the rushes on the floor. He lay down, removed his boots, and wrapped himself in his cloak.

He dreamed that night, and in the dream, he was at Hurbury once more. As the gate was breached, he raised his shield against the storm of arrows from the desperate defenders. He was one of the first to burst into the courtyard. Purple energy played over the Griffons who were charging wildly, the energy of Celtic magic, but it merely slowed them, their ferocity and the spells from their own Mages bolstering them. Caddan hacked down a shouting Celt armed with a maul. As the Griffons cleared the courtyard of Celts, the Golden Lions arrived and pushed through the gates. Caddan once more saw their commander, a fierce frown upon his face.

Suddenly, Councillor Merton was at his elbow, taking his sword arm, pointing towards a guard tower along the wall. Caddan ran into the tower, and he was confronted with a beautiful woman, her blonde hair streaming, beckoning to him, a mocking smile upon her face...

Caddan sat up with a start, sweat upon his brow, realized he had been dreaming, and lay back down. Sleep eventually took him once more.