Percival's Angel (8 page)

No leaf moved.

Alanna let go her breath and gasped in huge, new breath.

The face was gone. But its image hung still in her eyes, branded upon her mind. Again she saw juice-dark mouth, foxy eyes and teeth.

Was only curious. Meant no harm. This time.

Alanna drew breath again. And remembered—

—Percy! Holy, blessed Mary!

Percy was back at the bower with Ivie. Probably in his basket. Probably outdoors. Probably cooing and gurgling so the woods around resounded. Ivie would be trying to work—scrape a skin? braid reeds? pull a weed? Ivie might turn her back!

Alanna crossed herself.

Frozen life flowed again up and down her body.

Heedless of clinging prickles, she tore herself out of the vines. Ran straight into an oak where she expected a trail. Spun around. Found the trail. Bounded along it like a hare.

Wrong way. Wrong trail.
Have to go back to the blackberry clearing with the little brown thing…

Mary and Martha, they're all around! Makes no difference. They're laughing at me now.

She clung to a birch, seeing this. Understanding. Accepting.

Breathless, she ran back up the trail to the blackberries.

Found the right trail. Trotted home gasping, hands pressed to aching breast and side.

Trees and shade gave way.

There stood the bower in full sunshine. Alone. Fearfully exposed. Its solid-woven back to Alanna.

She staggered out into the open. Across to the bower. Around the bower. Every labored breath now a loud agony.

Ivie sat cross-legged in the shadowed entrance. She had laid her reed-braiding aside to hold three-month-old Percy upright between her knees. They laughed together, Ivie softly, Percy crowing like a rooster. Alanna had not heard his crowing through her own rasping, tearing breath.

Now they heard her gasps. Two human faces turned to her. They were safe, alive. Both of them.

Alanna caught hold of the bower's wicker frame and hung from it, panting.

Percy yelled joyful greetings and held out his arms.

Ivie's jaw dropped. Blue eyes widened.

She said only, “Where's your berry basket?”

Alanna could not yet speak to answer.

“You had a berry basket.” Ivie reminded her. “Hung on your neck. Percy and I, we were just talking about those berries.”

Percy jumped up and down in Ivie's scarred, hardened hands.

Alanna looked at her own hands. Purple. Scummy. She must have been picking berries.

Aye. I was picking berries. And then…

She sank down beside Ivie. Took eager Percy into her lap. Bared breast for him.

She said, “I saw…I saw…”

Ivie's eyes widened yet farther.

“Cap…fox eyes…”

Firmly, softly, Ivie said, “Hush.”

Again, a few days. Then Alanna led the way up the bank and home from the sunset-tinged river. They had bathed Percy. Alanna had wished to bathe, herself; but then she thought of the little brown fox-face in the blackberries and clutched her ragged gown close.

She went first, brave hand on the knife at her hip. Ivie followed with clean, wide-awake Percy in her arms. Shadows deepened ahead.
Better get home fast…no dawdling…no being out in the woods at night…

Alanna slowed, and stopped in shadow. Ivie stopped behind her. Percy jumped impatiently in her arms.

It's only my fear, showing itself. Only my shivers.

Red slanting sunlight pooled between two pines ahead. Did a quiet figure stand in that light?

Alanna gripped her knife hilt.
It's a trick of light. And my shivers.

Percy fussed louder.

Must get home!

Alanna stepped forward. Stopped again.

Holy Mary, it's real!

The figure raised a greeting hand, palm forward, and took clear shape. A small, dark lady stood in the trail. From under a crown of wildflowers her long, black braid dropped down her long, embroidered gown. Black as her braid, her keen eyes met Alanna's with a…kind…glance.

Behind Alanna, Ivie gasped.

Alanna planted herself like a tree between the small, kind lady and Percy.

The lady smiled—slowly, carefully, showing no tooth. But Alanna guessed at hidden, fox-sharp incisors. She drew her knife halfway from its sheath.

Haltingly, with strange inflections, the lady said, “I Lady of Lake. Nimway. All know I.” Her gentle, husky voice froze Alanna's hand on the knife.

The lady said, “I let you come. Guard you. No harm. Yes.”

She moved from red light into shadow. Stepped closer. And close, raising her eyes to hold Alanna's own.

Alanna tried to grip the knife hilt.
I'm falling asleep! Can't move!

Couldn't fight, anyway. She's not here alone! There's little skin-capped men behind every tree, pointing poisoned darts at us.

Her numb fingers slept on the knife hilt.

The Lady of the Lake stopped before Alanna. Smiled up at her, close-mouthed. Looked past her.

Alarm tingled up Alanna's spine as those deep, keen eyes fell on Percy behind her.
If I could move! Must move!

Despairing.
She doesn't need men with poisoned darts. She is her own army.

Behind Alanna, Percy suddenly cooed and laughed.

Soft, friendly, the lady said, “Greetings, Percival. Never-Knight-To-Be.”

God makes men and men make rules

So we know Knights from baser fools.

If in truth you'd be a Knight,

Keep these counsels in your sight.

Should you meet a maiden fair,

Kiss her well and leave her there.

Take her jewels if you must.

Use no violence nor lust.

Should God's church stand by your way,

Enter there and gravely pray.

Guard your Honor and your Word.

A Knight's Word is his Spirit's sword.

Accept a friendly gift of food

In jovial and friendly mood.

If none is offered, fill your need.

Of angry protests take no heed.

Upon your way you hear a cry?

Answer it! Help, save, or die!

Should Another challenge you,

Take sword or lance and run him through.

Follow faithfully your King

So Merlin may your praises sing.

Now my Counsel's said and done;

All I can give you, dear Sir Son.

Red Knight

In a bright, morning glade shone a large, silvery tent.

Stepping out of the woods, Percy paused.

“Goddamn! What we could do with a tent like that back in the forest!”

Behind him, still woods-shadowed, Lili murmured, “Too seeable. Stands out like a white cliff. I wouldn't sleep long enough to dream in that!”

On three sides woods framed the glade. Spring-green leaves shimmered and birdsong echoed. On the far side open fields stretched away, green and brown. A gray, grizzled horse grazed in the first field, hobbling on three legs. One front leg was tied up off the ground.

In the midst, obvious and direct, the tent flew a cheerful red and blue banner. Bright ribbons snapped and floated on a light breeze. The tent flap hung invitingly open. A smaller tent, unadorned, waited off to the side.

Percy said, “I know! This must be a church of God.” In his head a despairing voice moaned,
Should God's church stand by your way, enter there…

He made to start forward. But Lili's small, clenched fist shot up before his nose.
Wait!

Why?

Lili doubled down and darted out across the open, grassy glade. Straight to the smaller tent she went, and hesitated, sniffing, listening.

She vanished.
Went in, she did. Good thought. Know what we're getting into.

There she came now, slipping out through the still-closed tent flap. She raised her hands and finger-talked across the sunny space.
Empty. But look at the ground!

The ground.
Ho, what a mess! Crushed grass. Churned earth. Turds all over. Great horse turds, dog turds. There's one, steaming. Human folk have been around here, and not long back.
Percy signed,
Well, aye. We Human folk go to church. Now watch me!

Percy straightened Alanna's soup kettle on his head. He threw back his cloak to flaunt his new, three-colored tunic. Lightly, he touched the Bee Sting at his belt. Assured and ready, he marched across the glade, avoiding turds, and into the church.

Hey?

In a church they've got an altar, like a table. A lamp, always lit. Maybe a statue, like Mary.

Here, they've got a table. Spread with every kind of food known, and other kinds, unknown. Goddamn!

Lo; this is not God's church.

Small furniture stood about; wooden things to sit on; a chest to keep things in; and furs and coverlets piled up to form a bed.

On the bed slept a lady.
A maiden fair.

Except not so fair.

Must be Ivie's age. Best thing she's got is her hair.

Which was dark, long, rich, and thickly spread across embroidered pillows.

Should you meet a maiden fair, kiss her well…

Percy bent down over the lady.

How? Cheek? Forehead? How do you turn your head…There.

He landed a heavy, wet kiss on her upturned chin.

????

The lady's eyes flew open. Saw Percy. The lady drew a great breath and made to rise.

But Percy knew what that meant.

Think you'll scream, do you? Not in my ear! I've heard enough of that.

Percy silenced the lady with one hand firm on her mouth. With the other hand he held her down by a slim shoulder.

Black eyes wide on his, she raised both bony little hands against his chest.

Rings. Bright rings winked pretty colors on every finger, even the thumbs.

Take her jewels if you must.

Rings are jewels.

Cautiously, he lifted his hand from her mouth. She took a quiet breath and watched him.

Carefully, he let go of her shoulder. She lay still and watched him.

He took one little bony hand and pulled off the rings, finger by finger. She gasped a bit when a ring stuck; otherwise, she lay silent.

There. Like that, in the pouch. Now the other hand. She says no “nay.” I must be doing it right.

Holy Michael, I'm hungry! That food back there smells right good.

Percy rose up from the lady and turned to the table.

Lili was already there, stuffing bread into her pouch.

Accept a friendly gift of food…If none is offered, fill your need…

He made for the table and filled his need.

Breads. Meats, fish, fowl, and something like bread but honeysweet. Hungry Percy wolfed.

Lili snatched three or four sweets and returned to her watch-out post by the entrance.

A good girl, my Lili. Useful.

Following her example, Percy stuffed honeycakes into his pouch with the rings.
Never tasted the like of these!

A rustle of movement behind him. He turned to face the lady.

Slowly, making no sudden move, she sat up on the bed; licked her lips, and asked softly, “Sirrah? Knave? Fellow?”

Percy informed her through a big mouthful of fowl. “Sir.”

“Sir! Ha! Ha-ha-ha!”

Unaccountable laughter. Chewing, he stared.

“Very well. Sir; my lord has gone hunting.”

“M-hmmm.” Nod.

“He will return soon. With his men.”

“M-hmmm?” Chew. Gulp down.

“He will be angry.”

Angry? Why?

“What are you, a beggar?”

What's that?
Shrug. Tear off a hunk of pork.

“You are not a peddler…Oh!” Her plain little face lit up. Excitement turned it almost pretty. “A bard! Sir, are you a bard?”

Could she not see? “Knight am I.” Pop in the pork.

“Ha-ha-ha!” She shook pretty black hair back over her shoulders. Cocked her head. “I know! You're a jester! A fool! My lord sent you here.”

Percy scowled.

“You're good. But rough for my taste. A soup kettle makes a good helmet, I admit. But where's your sword?”

Percy gestured toward his Bee Sting.

This big flagon here, does it hold horrible milk, or water?

With both hands Percy lifted, tipped, and quaffed.

UGH! Neither milk nor water, it burned his tongue, then his throat, and all the way down to his stomach. Gingerly, he ran tongue over teeth, testing the awful aftertaste. Still, he was thirsty; so he drank again, more slowly.

“Easy on the ale, Sir Jester. My lord likes his ale.”

From the entrance, Lili said, “Percy, get one of those warm covers and let's be gone.”

Percy let the flagon fall. He wiped the taste off his lips and looked at the embroidered coverlets on the bed.

“Hard to carry.”

“I'll carry it.” Lili disappeared outside.

Percy strode to the bed. The blue and red coverlet he had his eye on lay under the lady. He took her by waist and shoulder, lifted her aside, not too urgently, and took it up.

Anger stiffened her face and turned it plain again. Homely.

Coldly, she asked, “Who is that boy?”

“My friend. We travel together.”

“Travel? You are traveling?”

“Aye, this moment. Farewell.”

“I assure you, my lord will avenge this robbery! He will hunt you down like a wolf.”

He could try. Percy shrugged.

“Leave the coverlet. Then maybe he will only break all your bones.”

Percy slung the coverlet back over his shoulder. Lili might regret offering to carry this! But it would cheer up a cold night.

“Would you know the name of your doom?”

Turning to leave, he looked back inquiringly.

“For the rest of your short life, beware of Sir Agrain. He is unusually fierce.”

Percy left the tent.

Lili had already vanished. A very faint dew-trail led into the woods.

Out in the field, the gray-grizzled horse whinnied.

Percy paused to look at it. It looked back at him, head and hobbled foot high, ears waggling. It whinnied again.

Take the horse?

In the past two days since leaving the forest they had met several horsemen and groups of horsemen. When they could, they hid till the travelers had passed; for Lili feared them greatly. And Percy noticed that Humans sometimes hid from them, also. There must be some reason for all this caution.

From thicket or tree they had watched the big animals jog past, hooves splattering stones, riders alert, commanding, yet relaxed, their lucky feet up and off the stony ground.

Once, unable to hide, they had stood by the trail and watched powerful horses pass close by, great hooves threatening, hides smelling of sweat, hot breath smelling of hay.

Percy had thought,
Goddamn! That's how to travel!

Take the horse!

But how?

How would you approach it? Gaze high and scornful, it dared Percy.

Not one to refuse a challenge, Percy started for it. It hobbled away at his own speed. When he stopped it stopped, and looked back at him.

Suppose I caught it, how would I get on?

It wore no furniture such as the riders used; nothing to sit on. Its bare swayback glistened silver in morning sun. Nothing to guide with. It had something on its face you could catch it by, but that was all.

Lili must be far away by now.
Goddamn! She's gone into the woods.

Over the fields was the direct way to Arthur's Dun.
But then; no Fey would walk those fields in daylight. She'll want to dodge from tree to tree all the way.

Percy sighed.
I'm Human, that's why open fields don't fright me. Not Lili's fault that she's Fey.

As for the horse, I'll wait till I know more.

Right now, catch up with Lili. Let her carry this coverlet. Look, she broke a twig here, and here, so I could follow.

Percy crashed into the woods on Lili's deliberately visible trail.

***

“Lili, Goddamn! Why can't you sleep?”

(I have to laugh.) “Why can't
you
sleep? These rocks and thorns too much for you?”

“This Goddamn itch! You said you could fix it.”

“Haven't found the right herb yet.”

“Doesn't bother you, huh? You Fey can sleep on rock with an itch?”

“So can you! Or you should have stayed home in your oak nest with Alanna's soft, warm cloak.”

“Wish I had brought that!”

“I wish so too. It could have done for both of us.”

“She gave me her soup kettle. And her counsel.”

“Which is no good, Percy. Merlin never sang of such deeds as you have done.”

“Why did I never hear these Merlin songs you talk of?”

“Alanna did not want you knowing them. Percy!” (Wide-awake, I sit up and look out of our brush shelter into rainy darkness.) “Alanna must have forgotten how it really is, out here in this Kingdom.”

Groan. “Never forgot a Goddamn—”

“In the songs, the Round Table Knights take no rings or food. Their evil enemies do those things!”

“Hah! And do the Knights hand out pretty rings to the first folks they meet?”

“We Fey return good for good. Even Merlin's songs admit that. And those peasants were good to us. Had us sleep in their own bed, while they curled up by the fire!”

“That's where I caught this itch. And then you had to reward them with rings! Sir Friendly was right. Women are more trouble than worth.”

(That stings!) “You want me to leave you alone out here? I can start home right now.”

“Might as well wait till morning.”

“Percy.”

(Moan.) “What now?”

“Those peasant folks didn't know we had rings.”

“What are rings for, anyhow? No good I can see. Pretty to look at. But if I had a ring now, I'd gladly give it for a dish of peasant porridge!”

“They didn't know…till morning.”

“What are you fretting for? Lie down. Warm me up.”

“All day I've been wondering why they gave us their bed.”

“All day I've been wishing they hadn't!”

“I woke up in the night, Percy. I saw a Spirit hover over them, where they lay on the ground. Something I've never seen before.”

“Aaargh. You see spirits burning in every bush!”

“Not like this one. This was too bright, too great, to fit into the hut. Its wings reached the sky.”

“You couldn't see the sky. We were inside the hut. Lie down!”

“All I could see was spirit and sky. The hut disappeared.”

“Angel Michael! I dreamed, too, me, myself. I dreamed I was roasting a grouse.”

Poor, ever-hungry Percy! “I'll find you a grouse in the morning.”

“And that itch herb too. Oo-o-ow!” (Scratch.)

I lie down again beside Percy and rearrange the coverlet over us. He cuddles warm against me; as he must have cuddled against Alanna when he was small.

What with itch, rock, rain, and thorn, lovemaking is far from my mind. It has never entered Percy's mind.

And that's as well. I think that last night I glimpsed the Power I seek. That great, shining Spirit that hovered over our sleeping hosts…It knows the secret of Power.

Percy flings a warm, too-heavy arm over me and snores.

Why did those peasant folk welcome us into their hut, feed us porridge, give us their bed? They didn't even know we had those pretty rings to give.

Finger pressed to Victory, I stare into wet darkness and wonder.

***

Here I am!

In Arthur's Dun!

Here I stand among Human men. I am bigger, stronger, than most of them. I look upon King's Hall; upon its great doors and carved posts; and I know that King Arthur himself sits within.

Follow faithfully your King…Faithful I will be, whatever comes!

One barrier remains. Those great, closed doors. From what I have heard, traveling, King Arthur is not easily met with.

(While Percy worshipped at the doors of Chivalry, oblivious to the lowly Humans hurrying past and around, Lili cowered in his shadow, almost too frightened to breathe. So close she clung, few of those hasty Humans noticed her at all.)