The Willows (46 page)

With barely minutes to spare comedy
finished their last preparations, assembling in front of the
fortress door just as the boys arrived with Michael. As they moved
the blindfold, Gwen watched his face. She enjoyed his surprise
almost much as her own upon first seeing the children’s
handiwork.

“
Incredible,” he said with a
low, appreciative whistle.

Gwen felt a surge of pride in the
children’s work but in equal amount further on, for appreciating
it. “Welcome to Camelot,” she said, taking his hand to lead him to
the door. “Come inside. You will find it even more
amazing.”

They shuffled through the doorway,
Michael remarking on familiar boards and scraps of metal. “So
that’s where the knob went,” he said, as Patrick shut the door
behind them.

“
Yeah, well, we also
borrowed the chairs, too.” Patrick gestured to the pair of thrones,
and draped with flowers stuck in streamers of Spanish moss. To one
side stood a table laden with food and gifts, to the other, and
display of carved weapons and imaginative shields. No actual money
had gone into the party; the children had a knack for using their
imaginations to fashion a great deal from very little.

Michael turned slowly, taking it all
in. “You children never cease to amaze me,” he told them. “I never
imagine you were building anything this large. How did you manage
all by yourselves?”

Jude shrugged, but anyone could see she
was beaming. “Jeffrey help some, but mostly we wanted to keep it a
secret. No one else but you and Gwen has ever been
inside.”

“
Then I’m doubly honored to
be invited here today.”

“
Seem right, somehow. It’s
your birthday, and as Gwen says, we shouldn’t have no… I mean, any
secrets between us.”

He said nothing, but Gwen
could see the words touching him deeply.
Go
on, but her,
she wanted to tell him, but
like Jude, Michael was still a stranger to softer emotions. For
now, it was enough that he was here, participating. The rest they
might better take a step at a time.

When asked if it is time to start
showering their honored guest with gifts?

Nodding eagerly, Jude pulled out her
wand in order her brothers to line up behind her. As she handed
Michael a necklace similar to Gwen smiled with just the right
amount of pleasure. The twins step up to present a well preserved
birds nest, he managed to remain properly appreciated, but his
delight showed strain as Christopher offered though hoarded remains
of his half eaten candy. Patrick finished the presentation with a
wonderful poem, telling of his knightly virtues.

Gwen felt is eager and excited as any
of them, wishing she, too, could present her gift now, but they’d
all agreed she would wait until after the tournament. Perhaps that
was why, the very instant Patrick finished reading comments she
suggested that they should start the competition.

Jude step forward with dramatic sweep
of her bed sheet, and waved her wand. “Here yee, here you, today’s
contest is swordplay. To win, a knight must knock the sword from
his forponent’s hand.”

Realizing her mistake, she turned to
Gwen, who mouth the word for her. “Er, opponents hand,” she went
on. “You can also win by forcing you’re, er… The other knight out
of bounds.” He gestured at the circle they had drawn earlier in the
dirt.

Again she turned to Gwen with a
pleading expression. “The prize,” Gwen prompted, realizing Jude had
forgotten what came next.

“
Oh, yeah, the winner gets
crowned King of Camelot.”

Christopher grinned ear to ear. “Then
we all get to eat dinner and have some cake.” Easy to see where his
priorities lay; he pointed his little finger into the
icing.

“
You better get fighting,
boys,” Michael chuckled. “I don’t think your brother’s belly can
hold on any longer.”

“
Us? You got a fight,
too.”

“
Yeah, Gwen says you are the
defending champion.”

He held up his hands. “Sorry, I don’t
have a sword.”

They all turn to Gwen. “It would mean a
great deal to us, if you would participate, sir. If you will, we
can outfit you. Quite certain our bailiff must have extra weapons.
Sir Patrick, would you happen to have a sword any breastplate this
knight can use?”

“
Indeed I do.” Bowing with a
flourish, the boy handed it up. “In fact, my Queen, I just so
happened to have them right here in my hands.”

Mike was hard put to stifle the grin as
he took the wooden sword and battered piece of metal from his
nephew. “Very well, and who shall be my first
challenger?”

“
Me, me,” Christopher
begged. “I never get to go first.”

“
I would be delighted to
fight you, sir. I suppose it would be wise to get my hardest
competition out of the way first.”

Beaming, the little boy drag him over
to the circle.

“
Wait,” Jude called out.
“You cannot fight without a token of your lady’s favor.”

Gwen grabbed the colorful cloth sheet
selected, but Michael surprised her by shaking his head. “I already
have her favor,” he said with a teasing glint in his eye. “My lady
gave it to me long ago.”

She blushed, thinking he referred to
last night, but then he pulled her white handkerchief from his
pocket. That he’d kept it all this time filled Gwen with quite awe.
She couldn’t help but compare it to how she’d felt finding lance’s
token, trampled and forgotten in the dirt.

“
I want a favor, too,”
Christopher demanded.

“
Stepping up, Gwen tide the
colorful cloth to his suspenders. “Remember the plan,” she told him
and he whispered, before hurrying back to join the
others.

Little boy clearly took a reminder to
heart, for his uncle had barely touch the boy sword before he went
flying to the ground. Clearly surprise, Michael argued with
Christopher was declared defeated, but Merlin quickly called for
the next opponent. Peter fell after two minutes, blaming the loss
of his weapon on the fall, while Paul took four minutes and some
terrific acting to lose his sword as well. Patrick did better,
lasting a good ten minutes before falling to his knees on the other
side of the circle, the only trouble being that Michael was nowhere
near him at the time.

Hoping his nephew to his feet, Michael
shook his head. “I am the adult. I’m supposed to try to lose to
you. What are you boys up to?”

Patrick looked up with absolute
innocence. “We did our best. Can we help it, if we can’t be the
true champion?”

Taking her cue, Gwen step forward. “As
Queen of this realm, I declare the newcomer our winner.”

“
Good, can we have cake
now?”

“
Not yet, Christopher.”
Michael stared at Gwen. “Jude and Gwen have not fought
yet.”

Gwen shook her head. “Merlin and I are
the judges, and we declare the contest over. Page, bailiff, please
bring my gifts.” Taking his hand, she led Michael to the throne.
“Our champion has more than earned his reward.”

“
Reward?” Michael teased. “I
hope it has nothing to do with fish.”

She pushed him gently into the chair.
“Sit down and let me make my speech.” As he looked up, his gaze
questioning, she felt suddenly unsure of herself. What if he didn’t
like her gift, or understand what she meant to say?

Yet, in the long run, did it matter?
Whether his reaction, she had to do this: she owed it to Michael
for a very long time.

Gathering the children around her, she
took a deep swallow and then plunged in. “We, the citizens of
Camelot, and have been join in the search, both far and wide, for
the one man strong in valiant and worth enough to call our Lord.
Today, my loyal subjects and I agree that we have found him. Page?”
As Christopher step forward, she took the paper crown he held out.
“We agree that there is no one else who has earned the right to
where the royal crown of Camelot.”

She set it on Michael’s head, all too
aware of his dark eyes on hers. “What is this?” He asked, grabbing
at her wrist.

“
Something I should have
done years ago. Sir Patrick?” She turned to the boy, now marching
forward.

“
This is so nobody in the
world can ever doubt that you are our King,” the boy said strongly.
“For you, King Arthur, I present Excalibur.”

Michael took the sword from Patrick,
but his gaze never left Gwen face. She watch skepticism give away
to confusion, then a slow, dawning smile. He understands, she
thought with a rush of joy. At long last, she done the right
thing.

“
Gwen paid Patrick to carve
it for you,” Jude was explaining. “That is how I got the locket.
Patrick didn’t want to take anything for it, but she said it would
give the special gift meaning.”

“
It does,” he said quietly,
running and appreciative hand over the beautiful crafted wood.
“This is your best work ever, Patrick.”

The boy blushed. “I wanted it to be
special. Gwen said she wanted it to be worthy of a king, so each
time you held it, you would know how we…” At the hesitation, Gwen
nudged him. “We love you,” Patrick finished off in a rush. “All of
us.”

Clearly moved, Michael nodded at the
boy, then each of the children, until his gaze came upon Gwen. For
a dizzy, terrifying moment, his eyes probed into her, asking his
sonic question. Did she count herself in their number? Did she love
him, too?

“
Chris, you little
pig.”

At Jude’s, shout, the link between them
snapped, and Gwen’s gaze was drawn to the table where the little
boy pilfered the food. As he spun, the perfect picture of guilt,
they all began to laugh. Shaking her head, Gwen told the others
they might as well eat. Everyone had waited long enough.

“
I’m sorry I was late,”
Michael said, rising to his feet beside her. “One thing after
another came up, and-“

She took his hand and squeezed it. “No,
please, you don’t need to explain, and you certainly don’t have to
apologize. You’re here now, and that’s all that
matters.”

And in that moment, as he smiled at
her, it was all that did. Leading him to the table, she decided
that the other matters could wait, like exploring her emotions and
worrying about the future. It was enough to share their meal,
laughing at the cake that wasn’t completely cooked inside, and
gather their things together as the sun began to set. It was enough
because Michael was with them, and they could be a family, if only
for a day.

Riding back to the cabin with him and
Jude in their boat, while the boys followed in their own, Gwen
sighed with a deep contentment. And entire outing without argument,
not even among the children. Surely this was the stuff of which
dreams were made of.

Looking up at Michael, seeing his
profile as he rowed them forward home, she felt a catch in her
throat. It had been a wonderful day, yes, but now it was over.
Would she still feel such dreamlike contentment when Michael said
his goodbyes and left them? Or would she just feel
alone?

It was dark when they reached the
cabin. The children, worn-out from the day, required little
conversation that it was time for bed. Just this once, they
allowed, they wouldn’t mind being tucked in.

Making great ceremony of settling
Excalibur down for a rest, Michael did the nighttime ritual with
the boys, while Gwen said good night to Jude.

“
We did, didn’t we?” The
girl said as Gwen leaned down to cover her. “We made it the best
birthday party ever.”

Gwen smiled, knowing what she meant.
Risking a kiss on Jude’s forehead, pleased when the girl did not
jerk away, she answered honestly. “Yes, I think we made it very
hard for him to leave now.”

She went to the door, pausing there as
Jude called out to her. “Gwen, when is your birthday?”

“
Not until December, so
don’t you start worrying about it. It’s time now for you to go to
sleep.”

Walking back to the main room, Gwen
knew she’d invaded the girl’s true question, one she should avoid
forever. It was not her birthday that concern Jude; it was whether
or not Gwen meant to leave them.

Gliding about the room, touching the
books, the discarded potato sacks, the little evidence of the
children stuff everywhere, she felt the physical pain at the
thought of not being included in their day-to-day lives. Who would
teach them to read when she left? How would they learned their
manners?

She rested a hand on the kitchen table,
the scene of so many conversations, good and bad, as they slowly
came to know and understand each other. If she left here, who would
remind her what truly mannered in this world? All along, her heart
had known it, and her body, too, but now, standing in the cabin,
feeling his presence with each breath she drew, Gwen committed with
every inch of her being how deeply she loved Michael.

She looked over to find him entering
the room, so tall and handsome and happy, and her heart swelled to
twice its size. The future might remain vague, but whatever else
happened, this man was her life. Wherever he went, her heart was
destined to follow.