How Eric Restored Camelot to its Glory After Guinevere's Death

Chapter 2

On his way home, Eric turned down a sloping alley, heading for the local bakery. It was dark now, but the scent of fresh bread still lingered in the narrow street from the morning???s batch. He pushed open the wooden door and entered, stooping a little as he passed beneath the low frame.

???Just a moment please,??? called a voice from the cellar stairway. ???Oh, Eric it???s you.???

The flushed face of Eric???s childhood friend Ellyn Farfelee appeared as she came up the steps into the shop carrying a heavy sack of flour. She smiled at him, put the flour down in the corner and brushed the dust from her hands. Ellyn was a beautiful young woman though at this moment there were flecks of flour in her long auburn braid, and she wore a grubby apron over her dress.

???You???ll break your back lifting those Ellyn. Come on, I???ll help with the rest.???

???It???s fine, there???s only a few more.???

???Still, let me help. It???ll take half the time. Besides, you???re puny.???

He punched her arm affectionately as he moved past her towards the cellar. When they were children, Ellyn had been a head taller than Eric for a full year, and very proud of it. Whenever they???d played knights and ladies, she???d always insisted that she was no swooning damsel, but a powerful sorceress. With her towering height, who could argue with her? But they weren???t eight years old anymore, and the boys of the town had overtaken her in height years ago. Nowadays it was Ellyn who was small and slim while Eric seemed to get taller and broader every day. He made sure to tease her about it whenever possible.

Eric descended into the cellar and grabbed two of the sacks to bring up to the shop.

???Any fresh loaves left???? He asked as he climbed the stairs.

???Plenty. So how???ve you been? No, a better question. Where have you been? I never see you these days!???

???Well, I???m busy you know. At the forge, and working for Dulcina.???

Ellyn frowned. She had never liked Eric working in the inn. Camelot was by and large a peaceful city, but if trouble was to be found, it was sure to be at Dulcina???s tavern.

???What about you???? he asked. ???How are your family keeping???? He laid the last of the sacks on the pile in the corner and leant on the counter opposite Ellyn.

???Fine. Except??? well father???s illness is a bit worse you know, so it???s been harder.???

Eric noticed that Ellyn???s green eyes didn???t quite meet his own as she said this. She turned away from him, reaching up to fetch his loaf from the shelf.

???Ellyn, really, are you sure you???re alright? You???re not working too hard? I mean if you need me, I could try to come by and help more.???

???It???s fine Eric. I mean, I am working hard. But I have to. Mother???s busy looking after father. His cough???s worse, and??? well anyway, I have to keep things going here in the bakery. I don???t mind though, I???m happy to help.???

She began wrapping the loaf with slender fingers and looked up at him with a wry smile. ???It all used to be a lot simpler, didn???t it????

Eric sighed, and his breath blew motes of flour dust into the candlelight. ???Did you see that knight today? The northern one????

???No. I???ve been in here since six.???

???Well, he came to the forge. His mare lost a shoe on the road south and he had Hadrian remount a sword too. You should have seen it, Ellyn. And his horse! She was so beautiful. It makes things seem??????

???What????

???Small, I suppose. I know we live in Camelot, and it???s supposed to be the capital and all, but it???s not how it used to be, is it? How it was in the stories????

Eric began to pace in the small shop, bending his head every now and again to avoid the sloping beams. He had been thinking all afternoon in the silent forge, and it felt good to speak.

???Men come through the inn all the time, strangers. They tell such tales, of Bristol, and York??? even France! There are so many places out there, people still doing Great deeds, fighting tourneys and winning victories. And look at us! I???m training with the sword, but what???s the point? I???ll never use it in battle. At the rate Hadrian is teaching me to smith, I???ll probably never even make a sword. I just wonder sometimes??? what about the future? Is this all I???ll ever do, or see, or become? Because if it is??? it just seems small.???

He had come to a halt near the open window. There were moths spinning and fluttering in the darkness just outside, drawn to the candlelight. He glanced over at Ellyn. She was watching him with an expression he???d never seen before. She began to speak, quietly.

???I???d have thought you???d be glad, Eric, that you don???t need to wield that sword in battle. You talk about the old days as if they were so glorious, but what about the people that died? The blood running in Camelot???s streets. Your own parents.???

???I know, I???m glad we live in peaceful times but I just??? don???t you just want to run away sometimes? To get away from Camelot, see the country????

Ellyn surveyed him from across the counter. Something like excitement seemed to pass across her face, but then she frowned again.

???No, I don???t. I???m happy here. It???s not so boring as you make out???we have Midsummer festival coming up remember? Besides, I have responsibilities. And I???m not the only one, am I? How is Letholdus????

???Grandfather! Damn, I better go.???

Eric took the bread under one arm and put a bronze coin on the counter.

???I???m sorry, I didn???t mean to??? just ignore me. I???ll come again soon, I promise. We can go for a walk down by the river or something, like the old days.???

Eric gave her a rueful smile and hurried out of the shop, leaving the wooden door swinging on its hinges behind him. Ellyn sighed and stood lost in thought long after the door had closed.

When Eric got home, there was a stew simmering in an iron pot over the fire. He sniffed the air tentatively. Letholdus was a little eccentric in all things, and a particularly experimental cook. He kept a small garden plot in the yard where he grew turnips and onions. Every summer he would also try to grow something called ???tomatoes???. Eric had never heard of them, but his grandfather assured him they were very popular in the lands over the sea. Letholdus had even shown him a drawing of such a fruit, plump and red though Eric noted that the ones from their own yard were usually sour and green. Indeed, most of his grandfather???s tomato harvests ended with Letholdus stomping in from the garden, muttering darkly about the ???bleeding English weather.??? This summer had been exceptionally hot, and Letholdus had at least managed to produce a change in colour???his tomatoes were now sour and orange.

Inside their little cottage, Letholdus kept a supply of rather odd ingredients, purchased from traders on the south road. French garlic cloves and cured meat from the Low Countries hung from the ceiling. The mantel was cluttered with all manner of strange things; powdered spices, salts and herbs, a jar of nettles and another of wild lavender. There were dustier bottles mixed in with the edible ingredients, the contents of which seemed more suspect???one filled with what looked like tiny eyes, another with an oily red liquid, and a jar containing something slimy which Eric suspected was pickled frog. Today???s stew smelled fairly safe however, and, detecting the comforting aroma of turnips, Eric sat at the kitchen table.

???Home are you? About time too.???

Letholdus came shuffling in, his long silvery beard tucked into his belt.

???The turnips are overdone now, see? The stew???s gone all purple. That???s your fault that is.???

Eric smiled. His grandfather was always chastising him for something or other and was grouchy by nature. He loved him all the same.

???I brought us some bread though grandfather.???

???Been to the bakery eh???? Letholdus gave his grandson a knowing look. He took the loaf and bustled around the kitchen looking for a knife. ???Didn???t happen to run into young Sweet-Ellyn while you were there did you????

???Don???t call her that grandfather, you know she hates it! But, of course, I did. She works there all the time now, her father???s sick remember????

Letholdus found the knife on the side, under a pile of chopped roots. He glanced down at the muddy blade, shrugged, and, wiping it in a fold of his long robe, came back to the table.

???What???s wrong with her father again???? He asked, sawing an uneven hunk off the loaf.

???His lungs. They aren???t right.???

???Hhm. Well go on lad, eat your stew. Do you want to let it spoil even more????

Letholdus sat down opposite his grandson and ate a spoonful of stew. He screwed up his face.

???Disgusting. I???m sorry lad, I cook like a blind bat. Go on then, tell it.???

Every evening at dinner, Eric would tell Letholdus about his day. You wouldn???t think there was much to tell since he so rarely strayed from his routine at the forge and the inn. But Letholdus would make him talk anyway, asking the kind of questions that no one else would think of, forcing his grandson to observe and remember little details.

???And the sunset???? He would ask. ???What was it like today????

???Um, you know, it was beautiful. Yellowish.???

And then Letholdus would give him a piercing look with his blue eyes, and raise an eyebrow.

???Okay okay! It was gold at first, and then it became a kind of reddish pink. And?????? Eric closed his eyes for a second, remembering. ???And there were a lot of mosquitoes out tonight, and moths, you could see them in the air???.???

And so it went on, every evening the same, Letholdus pressing for details of the day. Eric supposed it was because his grandfather hadn???t got out much lately. Of course, every now and again Letholdus would disappear for a day or so, off trading on the south road. But between times, he could spend many months in their little cottage and garden, mumbling to himself and ignoring the neighbours. Eric couldn???t help feeling sorry for him during these times, and so he tried hard to see with curious eyes, to remember the sights, smells and sounds, the faces he passed in the streets, the things that Hadrian and Ellyn had said to him.

Tonight he ate quickly, pausing between mouthfuls to tell his grandfather about the strange knight and the beautiful sword. Aware that time was getting on, he mopped up the last of his stew with a hunk of bread. Swallowing this, he moved to clear his bowl away.

???I have to get to the inn now grandfather.???

???Alright, get gone lad.???

Eric washed his hands in the clay bowl beside the water barrel, put on his hat, and went out once again into the balmy summer night.

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