It was two weeks until Yule when the High King of Britain spoke to the entire Company on the occasion of the coming Winter Solstice celebration. They all listened intently as Arthur announced the visit of King Leodegrance’s daughter, Gwenhyfar, to Camelot in time to observe the shortest day of the year. Olran turned to Aaronn and rolled his eyes at the very mention of the young woman’s name, having known her all his life. When the young King announced that this year’s observation would be more Christian orientated, a groan went around the room until Lancelot silenced it.
“Enough!” he growled. “What harm can it do to honor the visit of a good ally and his family during a sacred time of the year? Where is yer tolerance and patience? Ye should all be ashamed.”
“Let us not quarrel over religious observances?” Bedwyr stood to say. “If we want to keep to our traditions, let us do so before their arrival, so as not to present any offense. Our Goddess will not be affronted, and no harm will be done. What say ye all?”
“Ye offer good and sensible council,” Aaronn stood to say, taking the lead as he often did. “I see no harm in acting as our brother has suggested and having our bonfire a day or two before they arrive. Surely ‘twould be a good thing to celebrate as we wish, and then again with our ally in his tradition too? Perhaps we might pave the way to better understanding between both parties by doing so. I vote for it.”
“As do I!” Olran spoke second, as he often did. “Our brother has made a good proposition.”
“I think so as well,” Arthur agreed, nodding and smiling with quiet pride. As his former fosterling, Aaronn had proven to be the perfect result of Arthur’s charitable act. Arthur watched him take command at that moment and made a mental note to speak to Lancelot about creating a position for Aaronn’s skills to fill. First among the Outer Circle, Arthur thought musingly, it has a nice sound to it as he watched the young man take his seat again.
“Let us proceed accordingly then, and provide a harmonious arrangement of decorations to honor both traditions.”
“Aye, my Lord,” he heard their responses. His sharp eyes scanned the room, finding Olran’s face and seeing it cold and dispassionate as always. He’s unhappy about Guinevere’s visit, but I don’t know his reasons for feeling so, the young ruler thought. Knowing that Olran would likely refuse to discuss it unless ordered to do so, Arthur let it go, preferring to focus on the happy celebration he anticipated. Watching Olran leave the room, he turned a bit and saw Aaronn talking with Lancelot and Bedwyr. Wondering what their discussion entailed, he walked to them, hearing their conversation as he approached.
“I shall deal with the Christian part of the decorations,” Lancelot offered. “I shall have Bors and Lionel to advise me in this, and I am certain they will want to help.”
“If ye will allow it, my Lord Lancelot, my brother Olran and I would like to offer our service in helping with the Lady’s portion of the celebration. We have good communication between us, and I am certain any difficulties of protocol and presentation can be worked out between us. What say ye?”
“I would like that, our new brother Aaronn,” Lancelot grinned, offering his arm and feeling the shock of Aaronn’s young strength when he grasped it. “But how will our brother Olran feel about ye volunteering him?”
“Olran will respond according to his nature, as we all do,” Aaronn answered seriously. “I shall see ye later then, for a round or two in my quarters while we discuss plans? I’ve no wish to walk downtown tonight.”
“Done! It looks like ‘tis going to rain heavily or perhaps even snow outside. I would like to remain where ‘tis warm and dry. May I bring wine?”
“Ye may always bring wine to my celebrations, my Lord Lancelot,” Aaronn answered elegantly in his deep tenor. “I shall expect ye sometime after today’s labors have ceased; my door will be open.”
“And brother Olran?”
“I would imagine that once he knows that ye are bringing wine, he will remain,” Aaronn grinned. “He does have a fondness for yer father’s work.”
“I know many in Britain who share that fondness,” Lancelot laughed. “I shall see ye later then. Good day.”
“Good day, brother,” Aaronn called after him before turning to Bedwyr. “Brother, ye are also coming to help us plan, aye?”
“If I am welcome, then I would like to be there,” Bedwyr answered with a wide smile. “If only to keep watch on our brother’s consumption.”
“I have told ye before, ye need have no worries over that,” Aaronn responded quietly. “Our brother is well aware of the effects of his drinking, and he only employs it to help him deal with the pain of his past, which is considerable.”
“I know it well,” Bedwyr answered, having witnessed the abhorrent treatment of the young Olran by his older brothers and father. “Still, the event sounds like fun, and we’ve not had much of that lately. I shall see ye later then, and I have whiskey to contribute!”
“Excellent!” Aaronn smiled, sharing the arm grip with him. When they released each other, they parted, Aaronn following after his swordbrother and finding him exactly where expected, within their room in front of the hearth. He was dressed comfortably and sipping a cup of hot tea, a curious expression on his face.
“Olran?”
“Oh, hullo Aaronn,” the young man answered, sounding a bit startled. “I have the day to myself, and I intend to enjoy it. I am staying here all day, except for to fetch a meal. I do not wish to discuss Gwenhyfar’s visit; I am already dreading having her here.”
“Why?”
“They wanted me to marry…that,” Olran told him shortly, leaving no room for discussion. “Why is Arthur bringing her here?”
“I imagine because Leodegrance has been such a good ally of late,” Aaronn answered. “Some of our brothers are coming tonight to help plan a combined celebration of Alban Arthan and Christmas. Will ye remain and assist?”
“Aye, if only to assure that the older celebration has precedence,” Olran replied tightly. “I shall not have one of the holiest days on the Wheel be despoiled. One cannot combine Pagan and Christian Holidays without destroying the meaning of the former. Traditions are important to pass forward so that the next generation doesn’t grow up to be ignorant. ‘Tis quite enough ignorance in Christianity already.”
“On that, ye and I agree,” Aaronn nodded.
“Will there be wine?”
“Lancelot mentioned something about bringing a skin,” Aaronn told him, watching his ally’s face lighten.
“Well then, that changes all, aye? I should be glad for the company of my brothers on such a cold night.”
Much later, after a thorough cleaning and rearrangement of their furnishings, they opened the door to their room to indicate they were ready to receive guests. Cai was first, pushing a cart laden with a huge snack tray. Aaronn smiled to see the care with which the cheeses, meats, sausages, and vegetables were laid out for easy assembling onto one of the thick slices of bread kept under a cover to keep it fresh.
“I hope I have not overstepped, but I brought snacks for later. I know how our brothers’ appetites are after a few drinks.”
“Ye are most thoughtful, Brother Caius,” Aaronn replied graciously. He’d also brought a large, plain tablecloth, which Olran snatched off the cart and quickly spread out on the table in their room. Aaronn brought the tray, and Cai picked up the bread plate, following the younger man to the table and setting it beside the large plate of delicious treats. A knock sounded on the door; then, it opened to reveal Lancelot, carrying a large skin of his father’s best red wine. Cai had brought a decanter, knowing everyone’s habits very well, and so the First Knight of Camelot quickly filled it from the skin. After everyone’s glass held wine, he refilled the decanter to the top before corking the skin and carefully setting it aside.
“To the Lady, and to Arthur,” he proposed.
“Aye,” Aaronn agreed, while Olran simply saluted silently before tipping back his cup, slowly sipping the beverage within. As always, King Ban’s skill with combining grapes was proven out, for the resulting wine was very well balanced, not bitter or acidic, simply mellow and pleasant to drink. After a sip or two, Olran’s face held a smile, and he thanked Lancelot humbly.
“I am most appreciative, My Lord Lancelot,” he began elegantly. “As always, ‘tis a pleasure and an honor to enjoy yer Father’s work.”
“I shall tell him ye said that,” Lancelot grinned. “He is coming to spend Yule with us.”
“He is?” Olran asked for confirmation with a wide smile, for Ban’s visits were always fun. The man had a wicked sense of humor, filled with barbs and sarcasm, which was only enhanced when he imbibed. Olran could not recall a time when Ban had not imbibed, not even from his youth at Westerland, which he tried to forget constantly.
“Aye, he has finally ended his mourning for his last wife,” Lancelot replied with a sigh. Olran felt empathy for the man, for Ban was over sixty years of age and still chasing women as if he were in his twenties. It could be embarrassing at times for Lancelot, especially when tales of his father’s exploits filtered back to his ears.
“I shall be happy to see him,” Olran remarked, for Ban was a good friend to Camelot. “Perhaps he will want to go hunting.”
“Perhaps, I know he enjoys getting out into the woods,” Lancelot answered with a grin. At that moment, Gawaine and some of the other Knights knocked for entry and were admitted, breaking Olran’s somber mood. The rest of the night was spent talking and laughing with his brother Knights, as the party went on until near dawn. He retired feeling content, and glad for the company of good people at last.
Aaronn woke first the next morning, finding the room quiet and cold as he rose and wrapped a thick robe around his muscular form, slipping a pair of rabbit fur-lined house-shoes onto his feet so as to avoid the cold of the floor. He stopped in front of Olran’s door within the chamber and knocked lightly, knowing that light summons would be enough to rouse his sleeping friend. While he waited, he prepared a pot of hot tea from the stores in the room until finally, Olran wandered out of his room dressed in a similar fashion as his friend.
|Next>