La Damoiselle Arthur 18

Chapter 18

In which Arthur does look upon diamonds with a maiden’s eyes!

Lancelot got up and went to inspect the tunnel at the back of the cave. Long and dark, but glowing light way back did suggest the tunnel would, indeed, lead them out.

While Lancelot had his back turned, Arthur grabbed a few things for himself. As he’d searched for a gift for Guinevere, his heart had fluttered at the sight of all the pretty jewelry, diamonds and rubies and emeralds glittering in the firelight. He had simply had to claim some for himself. He picked up a diamond ring and clutched it to his chest. Oh, he adored diamonds now. He simply adored them.

Arthur knew he had adopted another female trait, that he was looking on these treasures with a woman’s eyes, that he was sticking them in his pockets– that Roman Necklace would look stunning on him– he was acting with a woman’s will,  but he didn’t care. He could have spent a week going through the anklets and chokers, the brooches and ivory hair combs. It was almost enough to make him wish he had long hair again!

Lancelot, little to Arthur’s knowledge, had turned and was now silently watching the little female as she bustled and bothered, her cheeks flush with excitement as she found pretty baubles, admired them, shoved them into her pockets. Arthur found a thick silver bracelet, flashing with sapphires, and he slipped it on his wrist, then held it out to admire the way the jewels shone. His hand was bent upward at the wrist.  As he gazed at the pretty stones, he lifted one knee, flashing his brightest smile.

He looked utterly female, and thoroughly woman, and Lancelot turned away, as seeing Arthur in that delicate pose shook him to his manly core. Lord, give me strength, he prayed. That I might not seek to ravish my KIng!

“I’ll get the horses,” Arthur called, his soft voice echoing through the cave. He’d now lifted his tabard and used it to create a kind of bag where he could keep more of his precious finds, and he wanted to hide them in the saddle bags. He couldn’t have Lancelot know he’d gone diamond mad!

Relieved, Lancelot began to look through the treasure, focusing on the weapons and armor. How many died at the hands of this monster? He wondered. Hundreds of warriors over thousands of years. The tales of its defeat would be sung in halls across the land. If they told it. Lancelot did not relish the idea of the scalds singing about the time the mighty Lancelot was rescued by a maiden, even if she was King Arthur. Perhaps they could keep this story between themselves?

The mundane weapons had rusted, decayed. He attempted to draw a once fine long bow, and the string snapped even as the bow, itself, crumbled into dust.  There were, however, some enchanted items among the piles of gold and silver. The crossbow, a roman short sword, a shield emblazoned with Celtic runes.

“Find anything?” Arthur called, still blushing from his own finds.

“Enchanted weapons,” Lancelot. “I will bring them back to Camelot.”

“Be you careful,” Arthur said, voice full of feminine concern. “Enchanted objects can be dangerous.”

“Of course,” Lancelot said, resisting the urge to add, “My darling.”

They led their horses along the twisting tunnel. The light they had seen did not turn out to be an exit, but a crevice letting light seep down from above. They passed further and further before finally coming to an opening, just wide enough for their nervous horses to squeeze through. The tunnel led out into a meadow, frosted silver, the purple walls of the mighty mountains rising up above them, snow-capped peaks hidden in the clouds.

Arthur got the map out and looked around. “I don’t know where we are,” he said.

“Let me see,” Lancelot said, taking the map from Arthur’s hands without waiting for him to answer. The move vexed Arthur, and he also kind of liked Lancelot taking charge. I’m becoming such a maiden! He thought, having no idea the trials to come.

Lancelot looked at the map, back at the mountains. He pointed to a spot above and to the left of the tunnel they’d just exited. “The springs are there,” he said. “We dare not return there, so we should seek to find a passage that would meet the route further to the East.” He pointed right.

“How do you know?” Arthur said, impressed. “I mean the location of the springs?”

“I paid close attention to our movements as we fled the barghest, and then in the twisting tunnels,” Lancelot said. “I suspected we might need to retrace our steps, you see.”

“Oh,” Arthur said, impressed. “That was clever.”

Lancelot didn’t respond. His eyes were on the map. In fact, he’d just guessed. He had no more idea where they were than Arthur, but he didn’t want his little female companion to worry. “We ride East and seek another path into the mountains.”

Arthur nodded. Lancelot put the map into his saddle bags. He would be taking the lead now. Lancelot rode in front. Arthur followed. The sun was sinking behind the mountains when they came upon a narrow path that led up and up into the mountains. “We should camp and begin our ascent in the morning. The darkness falls quickly in the mountains.”

Arthur nodded. They dismounted and worked together to set up a camp. Despite the risk, they gathered wood and builty a fire. It was simply too cold. Arthur was glad the meadow provided plenty of forage for the horses, he found himself worrying over them. How long since they’d gotten a good brushing? He got up.

“Where are you going?”

“To take care of our horses,” Arthur said. “They’ve been through so much.”

Arthur found the brush and began to brush. His horse, Hengeron, whinied in delight.  The horse seemed so big now, Arthur thought, standing on his tiptoes to reach the upper back. Arthur put a hand on Hengeron’ thick, muscled shoulder. “You’re so strong,” he whispered. “Pretty boy.” Arthur found himself falling in love with his horse. He was beautiful! As a man he’d certainly respected this mighty steed, among the best in England, but as a girl? Oh, his heart would be broken if Hengeron were to get hurt!

“Will you care for Gringolet while you’re at it?” Lancelot called, studying the map  by the firelight, hoping his guess had been correct.

“Of course,” Arthur said. Don’t bother to even offer to help! He thought, but then he delighted in brushing the horses, and why make for argument? He kept his irritation to himself.

“Quite an adventure we had,” Lancelot said.

“Indeed.”

“Of course, we will want to keep the story of this quest to ourselves.”

“Why is that?” Arthur said, thinking of his heroic defeat of the monster.

“If the scalds sing of your maiden quest, the people will remember always that Arthur became a girl,” Lancelot said. “Better they should forget, lest Arthur the man is forever diminished.”

“Diminshed?” Arthur said, ceasing his brushing to turning to face Lancelot. In truth, Arthur did consider himself diminished as a female, but he didn’t like anyone else to speak it. “You think me diminished?” His voice into a shrill, feminine shriek.

Oh, no, Lancelot thought, taken aback by Arthur’s anger. “I did but mean…”

“Perhaps you needed to be reminded it was the ‘helpess’ damsel that saved the knight! If not for this girl,” he shrilled, gesturing at his body, “you would be dead!”

“If that story gets out…”

“Oh!” Arthur said, as he realized Lancelot’s true purpose. “I see through you now, Sir Lancelot.”

“Arthur…”

“You feel ashamed that you were saved by a girl! It is your reputation you wish protected, not mine!”

Lancelot found himself speechless. He raised his arms in surrender.

Arthur marched up to Lancelot and handed him the brush. “A knight does not fib!” He said sternly. “Care for your own horses.”

Lancelot, still sitting, stared up into Arthur’s furious eyes. She is pretty when she’s angry, he couldn’t help but thinking. He knew there was no point arguing with an angry girl. He got up and went to care for his horse.

Arthur sat by the fire, triumphant, crossing his arms under his breasts. “The great Lancelot,” he teased. “Saved by a girl. That will make a fine saga, indeed!”

“I shall look forward to hearing it,” Lancelot said, cringing inwardly as he brushed his horse’s flanks. Women!

Arthur bit his lip. Watching Lancelot care for his horses was making his cheeks hot. There was something about watching the big, strong man being so caring and nurturing that made Arthur swoon. Men!

The next few days, the questing pair suffered endless frustration. Trails lay over the mountains of Northumbria like a spider’s web, and they twisted and turned, trails that started heading east turned west, ones that seemed to rise turned and headed back down toward the meadow. They ran into dead ends, came to forks, and all the while Arthur counted as the days he had left to fulfill his quest dwindled from 37 all the way down to 29. His fears grew with each passing day that he would be stuck as a woman. The goddess’ words  haunted him. She had said he would end up with child. He began to wonder what it would be like to have a baby growing in his swollen belly, kicking. What would his wife think to see her husband so? What would the kingdom think to Arthur made mother.  And, who would be the father?

He glanced upon Lancelot, but no. He must not allow himself to think such thoughts!

Still, their baby, he couldn’t help but thinking, would be beautiful.

The map had shown a route from Pittenween to the unicorn, indicating different landmarks. The next one had been Fingold’s bridge, but each time they thought they had come near to it, they found themselves at another dead end.

The stress finally got to Arthur. “We’re hopelessly lost!” He cried out.  “We’ll never find the unicorn in time!”

“We will,” Lancelot said. “Have faith.”

“Faith? Look at me!” Arthur cried. “Look at what our Lord has allowed! I should just– just– return to Camelot, put on a dress and accept my doom!”

“I will not allow that fate to befall you!” Lancelot shouted, though in truth part of him had come to hope for it.

“You’re just as lost as I am!” Arthur screamed. The possibility he would live out his life as a woman terrified him, the thought of a life in gowns. “If only this had never happened! If only I had not insulted that horrible goddess!” Something broke in Arthur. He covered his face as the tears poured down his cheeks. “I don’t want to be a woman,” he sobbed. “I don’t want to have a baby!”

Seeing a woman crying cut to the heart of Lancelot’s soul. He had to comfort her.  Asking God for the strength to be right, he gathered Arthur into his arms, holding his face against his chest. “There, there,” he said. “It’ll be alright.”

Arthur let himself be held in Lancelot’s strong arms. It felt so good, and he cried himself out in Lancelot’s embrace. When the crying ceased, he leaned back, and Lancelot held his shoulders. Arthur, now slightly embarrassed by his tears, but only slightly, tilted his head back, long lashes fluttering, and said, “Thanks for putting up with me.”

Lancelot gave Arrthur’s little shoulders a squeeze. It was only by the power of his prayers that he did not even try and kiss that beautiful face. “You are my King,” Lancelot said, wanting to remind them both that what they were feeling could never be.

Lancelot! Arthur thought, his heart aching. “You are the noblest of knights.”

He stepped away, sighing. It was as it must be.

“My King, I have a thought.”

“Yes?”

“We must turn to God. Let us kneel and ask our Lord for guidance. This whole quest we have relied on human power to guide us. Let us turn now to faith.”

“Yes,” Arthur said. “Yes”

They knelt across from each other. “What prayer should be recite?” Arthur asked.

“Let us say the Lord’s Prayer. You lead, my KIng, and I will pray with you.

Arthur began to recite the prayer. It was the first time he’d said it aloud in his soft, woman’s voice. The words sounded prettier to his ears. Lancelot, a half beat behind, joined his voice to Arthur’s, his deep voice ringing in harmony with Arthhur’s crystal soprano. The sound of their voices melding shook them both, and they had never felt closer. When they finished, Arthur added, “Guide us on our quest. Lead out steps,” and then, gathering his courage, he added, “If it be thy will. Whatever fate awaits me, grant me courage and grace to accept your will for me.”

Lancelot met Arthur’s eyes and nodded. It was a good Christian prayer, giving it all over to the Lord– even should the Lord choose to keep Arthur a fair maiden.

They lingered in the tension, but then broke off, their prayer finished. As he stood, Arthur suddenly laughed and clapped.

“What is it?”

“Our prayer has been answered,” Arthur said. “I know the way.”

It took two more days, but they found the path, followed the trail, and with 27 days remaining, they came upon Golden Hollow. Surrounded by a high wall, overgrown with moss and flowering vines, the single, arched entrance was, “Blocked,” Arthur said. Thick, gnarled branches rose from the ground and covered the entrance.

Lancelot tried to hack at the branches, but his sword would not bite into them. “Magic,” he said. He went and got the enchanted blade he had found, and prepared to hack away the vines.

“Wait,” Arthur said, putting a hand to Lancelot’s arm to stay his blow. “I do not think we are meant to destroy here.” He stepped forward and said, “I have come to see the unicorn. Please allow me passage.” The branches stirred. “I am–” Arthur paused, embarrassed but feeling compelled to say the words, “I am the virgin Arthur.”

The branches parted.

“How did you know to say that?”

Arthur shrugged. “Intuition?”

They walked through the archway, side by side, into a glorious world, right out of the most fantastic painting.  Bubbling brooks rose from the ground, forming crystal pools, flowering trees and bushes, gold, blue, purple and crimson, bathed the air with the most delicious of perfumes. Despite the cold and winter outside the wall, all was green and lush, like an eternal spring.

Small voices, like children, giggled all around, and Lancelot’s hand went to the pommel of his sword. Arthur covered Lancelot’s hand with his own, preventing him from drawing his blade. “They are no threat.”

“How can you be sure?” Lancelot said, disturbed by all the signs of magic.

Arthur didn’t answer. He just knew. He walked ahead, looking for the unicorn.

“Wait,” Lancelot said. Arthur looked back to see Lancelot pressing at the air, as if against a wall.

“What is it?”

“A barrier. I cannot go further into the Hollow.”

“You aren’t a girl,” Arthur said. “Wait for me. I will return soon.”

“Be careful!” Lancelot cried. “There is magic here!”

“I’ll be careful,” Arthur assured him. Yes, there was magic here, but it was good magic. He could feel it. Walking further into Golden Hollow, Arthur couldn’t help but delight in the beauty of the place, the delicious fragrance! And, so many flowers! He’d never seen a unicorn, and even if his manhood hadn’t been in the balance, he’d have been excited, and he was, his heart racing.

He made his way among the flowers, admired ancient, moss–covered  statues of fawns and nymphs, all the while the children’s voices giggling and whispering in words he did not understand. Slogging through a small brook, his boots covered in mud, he saw a gnoll all covered in dandelions, and somehow he knew.

Arthur climbed the gnoll, and when he reached the top he gasped, his hand to his heart. The Unicorn! It stood there, majestic, next to a small pool, and Arthur’s knees grew weak. He’d never seen anything so beautiful, and his love swelled, 1000 times what he’d felt for his dear steed. Pure white, it tossed it’s long, thick tail, and its long, hard horn shone in the sun,

I must have him! Arthur thought as he started to make his way around the pool, his heart now thudding in his chest. The unicorn now acknowledged Arthur, looking directly at him, and Arthur, meeting those icy blue eyes, seeing those long, curly lashes, fell even deeper in love. “You’re so beautiful,” Arthur said, drawing closer. He wanted to touch him. He needed to touch him!

“What’s your name?” Arthur asked in a shy voice, as he reached his slender hand toward the unicorn’s neck.

The unicorn whinied and reared, then ran off, down the hill, followed by laughter from the children’s voices.

“Damn!” Arthur said.  He followed, the ache to touch the beautiful growing stronger. The unicorn now stood among a ring of bushes sporting pretty pink flowers in full bloom. Arthur followed. “It’s okay,” he said, softening his voice. “It’s okay. I don’t want to hurt you.” The unicorn simply watched him, fixing him in those pretty eyes.

How does a girl capture a unicorn? Arthur wondered. “Good boy,” he said, inching closer. “Good boy.”

Once more, as soon as he sought to touch the unicorn, it fled, and Arthur found himself surrounded by laughter. Three more times, Arthur attempted to approach the unicorn, and three more times it fled. The last time, Arthur lost his patience and stomped one little foot, shouting, “I’m a damn virgin! You’re supposed to come to me!”

Once more, there was uproarious laughter.

“Where are you?” Arthur said. It was bad enough that a maddening, gorgeous unicorn was playing ‘chase me,’ but he would not be laughed at as well. “Show yourself!”

Like a cloud, the pixies rose from the bushes, all looking like miniature women in short dresses, wings flapping. They flew around Arthur, giggling, covering their mouths with their tiny hands.

They were all so pretty, and Arthur instantly adored them, despite their rude laughter. “Pixies!” He cried. It was another wonder he had never seen or expected to see! Guinevere, who had many paintings of pixies and had always hoped to see one, would be so jealous.

“You’ll never win the unicorn’s heart,” one of the pixies said, a golden haired little thing in a green dress. “I’m Spring, by the way.”

“Spring,” Arthur said, admiring her radiant skin. “But why not? I am— I’m—” Admitting his virginity to these pretty, female creatures seemed shameful.

“A virgin?” Spring giggled. “We know. Everyone in Golden Hollow heard you!” All the other pixies giggled, repeating, “virgin” in a babble of pretty voices.

“I am a virgin,” Arthur said, chagrined. “I thought unicorns?”

“Not enough!” Spring said.

“Not enough!  Not enough!” The pixies sang.

“What then?”

“Hmmmn….” Spring said, flying around him, assessing. She came back around to face him, holding her palm toward him and making small circles. “You need to change…everything.”

Arthur shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“Clearly.”

“Clearly…  Clearly..”

Spring flew down and sat on Arthur’s shoulder. “The unicorn’s heart can only be won by a beautiful lady,” she said. “You could be pretty if you wanted, I mean, but dressed like a boy? With that haircut?”

“No,” the pixies all agreed. “No!”

“So, what do I need to do, then?” Arthur asked, not understanding, perhaps, not wanting to understand.

“I just told you!” Spring then flew up into the air and began to sing, joined by her pixies friends:

A lovely dress, a pretty gown,

A lady she must never frown

Soft slippers and silken hair

For the unicorn a lady fair!

Sparkling earrings and I suggest

She must never look a mess

When with jewels she is adorned

Only then will she capture the unicorn!

With that, she waved her hands, and magic began to swirl about Arthur, his clothes changing as he found himself, suddenly wearing a silken dress of white, while his midsection felt like it was being crushed. He looked down at himself in shock, seeing the dress spread out beneath his slender waist. He could feel his long hair now ticking his neck. He felt humiliated, dressed in a gown in front of these pretty little female pixies. “I have to wear this?” He gasped, finding it hard to breathe, putting his hand gingerly to his tiny waist, feeling something hard underneath his dress.

“Yes,” Spring said, “you must be lovely to win the unicorn!” With that, the illusion faded, and Arthur found himself once more in his ratty boy clothes and man’s tabard. Spring rested her chin on her hand, crossed her legs and once more made a circular gesture toward Arthur’s body. “You need to make yourself pretty.”

“Pretty?” Arthur abhorred the word when applied to him. “Is there no other way?”

“Not if you want the unicorn to love you,” Spring said. “And I can tell you do. I know the look of a smitten maid!”

“Yes, fine,” Arthur said, biting his thumb. His mind filled with worry, and he spoke his worries out loud. “Where am I supposed to find a dress?”

“The elves,” Spring said. “They do the loveliest stitch work!”

“Oh, and the fabrics!” One chimed in, as the pixies all began to gush about how pretty and perfect the elves made their clothes.

“Can you tell me where to find the elves?” Arthur said, resigned to the fact he would need to “make himself pretty” in order to once more be a man.

“Better!” Spring said. “I’ll show you. I always wanted to help a damsel in distress!”

“Wonderful,” Arthur, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Arthur returned to Lancelot, Spring buzzing around him, the pixies following, giggling. “Let’s go,” Arthur said, walking by Lancelot and grabbing his horse’s reins.

“Where are we going?” Lancelot said, mind racing with questions even as he stared in wonder at the little pixies.

“To find a dress,” Arthur said as he climbed onto his horse. “And make myself pretty.”