Chapter 22: Bare Hips Sink (Friend)Ships
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About a year later, the sixteen-year old Loisette was strolling around outside the castle. Despite all the time they had spent together, she still hadn’t grown to like her new lady-in-waiting. Mishal was utterly smitten by a knight at court named Arneld, and he was all she talked about. As a result, Loisette--who didn’t feel too kindly toward knights based on the examples of Sir Klaud and the Black Knight--avoided the lady-in-waiting as much as possible.
As she walked the grounds alone, she found her thoughts wandering to her friend. She wondered how Catherine was doing. Did she have any friends where she was? Was it scary to be a mother? Did she think about Loisette very often? Would she be able to find happiness? Was her baby a boy or a girl?
Loisette wished she could go visit Catherine as Gawain. But the magic of the clothes meant Loisette couldn’t tell anyone about them. And besides, she didn’t actually know where Catherine was. For all Loisette knew, the older girl could have been in the Barbarian Kingdom. Loisette had no way to find her. They had been torn apart forever.
Knowing the great loss Loisette felt, Aliss had come to see her a lot following Catherine’s departure. But though her old nanny was able to provide her some comfort, Loisette still wished Catherine was around even after all this time had passed.
She had begun thinking a lot about friendship. Now that she could no longer talk to Catherine, Loisette wished desperately that she had been able to share her doings as Gawain. Catherine had entrusted her with the secret of her shame--and Loisette wished she had been able to reciprocate. She was certain Catherine would be amused that a set of clothes had been able to fool people for so long.
Thinking about the magic clothing turned her thoughts to Clarkent. She wanted to tell him her secret identity as well--she wanted him to know that the friend he had played with for years was actually female. It was a big thing to hide from him, and she was beginning to feel guilty in having persisted with it for so long. But even if she *could* tell him, would it end well? Would he start to treat her differently? Maybe it was best that she could never find out.
She heard a familiar noise and looked up to the sky. James was flying down toward her. Smiling, she stretched out an arm for him to land on. With a normal falcon, it would be impossible to trust that its talons wouldn’t puncture a bare arm. But James was no normal falcon, as she had known for a long time.
He gently landed on her arm and tilted his head. “**Good day, Your Highness.**”
“Good day, James,” she returned warmly, reaching a finger out to stroke the feathers under his beak. “**It’s a nice day to be outside.**”
“**Yeah, it is,**” he agreed, tilting his head back to enable her to scratch him more effectively. “**I noticed you seemed lost in your own little world there.**”
Her smile faded, and she lowered her hand back down. “**I was just thinking . . . . **”
“**About what?**”
She hesitated. She hated to bare her soul to a bird--particularly when she wasn’t sure if the bird understood that some things had to be kept secret--so she opted to be a little vague in her answer. “**Well,**” she said slowly, “**I want to tell someone something . . . but I can’t.**”
“**Ah,” he said, opening his beak slightly. “**I know how you feel better than you think. I used to be a human.**”
“**What?**” she asked in surprise. “**You were human?**”
The bird lowered his head. “**Yeah. A sorcerer transformed me.**”
Loisette frowned. “**Why would he do that?**”
“**Because of my parents,**” he said sadly. “**They were Nobles, and they lived next to the Mystical Sorcerer’s home--he used to be the court magician, you know. When my mother was pregnant with me, she had a lot of weird cravings. For days, she stared at the Mystical Sorcerer’s large pumpkin patch, and finally she insisted on having one of the pumpkins. No other pumpkin would do but one of the Mystical Sorcerer’s. She--she made my father steal one.**”
“**And he got caught,**” Loisette guessed with a wince.
“**Yeah. But the Mystical Sorcerer agreed not to harm him on one condition. They had to give him their firstborn child--me--whenever he asked. They were scared, so they agreed.**” He let out a faint noise that was perhaps his equivalent of a sigh. “**You can’t really blame them.**”
“**And then?**” Loisette prodded.
“**When I was six, the Mystical Sorcerer finally asked for me. But my mother loved me so much, and she refused to let me go . . . . So he turned me into a falcon.**”
She felt pity wash over her. “**Oh, James . . . **”
“**I was so scared,**” he admitted. “**I just ran away--well, flew away. I was eventually found by Peri. He could talk to me--like it seemed no other human could. I told him what had happened, and that’s when he put himself forward to be the new court magician, replacing the Mystical Sorcerer. It was a good day for the kingdom when that happened. Even if it was too late for me.**”
“**Did you go back to see your parents?**” she asked gently.
“**No,**” James said, turning his feathered head away from her. “**Peri tried to get me to return, but I didn’t want my mother to see me like this. It’s been a very long time since I have looked at either of my parents. I don’t think I will ever again.**”
“**James,**” Loisette said slowly, “**you should go visit them. I’m sure they would love to see you--**”
“**No,**” the bird said sharply, staring at her with intense eyes. “**It has been too long. They probably do not even remember me.**”
Loisette protested, “**I’m sure that isn’t true--**”
“**It doesn’t matter if it is. There is no need for me to see them when I cannot even speak one word to them. They would not understand me as you can. They have not been given your gift.**”
Loisette brought the bird on her arm up to her chest, giving him an awkward but gentle hug. “**Well, if you ever want to see them, I can go with you and translate.**”
“**I have a new life now,**” James told her. “**Don’t worry about me.**” But she couldn’t help but notice that he still seemed very sad.
****
Leaning forward on Esroh Repus (whom Dwayne had said Clarkent could ride whenever he wanted), Clarkent raced after Gawain. The younger boy was standing up in his saddle on Agides and whooping.
“Sit down!” Clarkent yelled at him, laughing. “You’re going to get hurt!”
Gawain sat down obediently . . . but only to spur the horse on to greater speeds. “Catch me if you can!” he called.
Clarkent rolled his eyes as he continued to follow Agides and Gawain. Reckless though Gawain was, Clarkent was fortunate to have him as a friend. When Clarkent had asked months ago for help in sending his parents a letter, Gawain had readily agreed. Since then, Gawain had assisted Clarkent in sending several letters to his parents. Clarkent was indebted to his friend, and he wouldn’t forget it.
Clarkent felt happier than he had in a long time. It felt good to be able to send his parents money. He knew that it would help them greatly. His only worry was that Gawain might be turning seventeen soon. He wasn’t sure of the other boy’s exact age, but surely that day would be coming in a few years, if not sooner than that. It saddened him to think about it. At eighteen, Clarkent was past that hurdle, but Gawain certainly wasn’t.
Pushing aside those depressing thoughts, Clarkent kicked Esroh Repus and brought the horse out ahead of Agides. He swerved to take a path different from the one Gawain had been following, and he smiled at the noise of Agides hot on his trail. He pulled at his shirt, which was sticking to him with perspiration. It was a hot day, and he was ready for some relief. And he knew just where to go get some.
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Clarkent finally stopped Esroh Repus beside a great lake. The lake was fairly close to the border, though not so close that Clarkent would avoid it. The water of lake was cool and crystal clear. There was something very serene about it.
Clarkent dismounted and walked up to the lake’s edge, smiling as he dipped a few fingers in the water. A bird flew overhead and trilled a fragment of a song before passing on its way.
Agides’s hooves had stilled, and Gawain approached behind Clarkent, asking, “Is this . . . Avalon Lake?”
Clarkent smiled. “Yes.” He began tugging at his shirt, his mind already on the cool relief of the water. “It makes a great place to swim.”
****
Loisette watched wide-eyed as the stableboy took off his shirt. And then when he began to slide his pants down, she yelped, “S-stop!” She wasn’t sure whether she was protesting because she shouldn’t be seeing him half-naked--he wouldn’t have gotten *completely* naked, would he have?--or because she couldn’t go swimming with him since she *wasn’t actually a boy*, but she did know that she felt highly uncomfortable with the situation.
But she was finding quickly that her eyes were glued to his chest. It was impossible not to notice the muscles there--she had seen (and admired) his strong arms many a time, but she hadn’t laid eyes on his stomach or his abs or--
She wrenched her eyes away and turned her head, flushing. It was inappropriate for her to notice how well-built a commoner was. She shouldn’t be thinking about reaching out to wipe off the sweat trickling down his chest or running her hands down his arms to feel the bulge of muscles. The thought of Catherine’s obsession with sweaty boys returned to her, and she gulped to herself. She was really beginning to understand that obsession.
But Clarkent didn’t know where her thoughts were--could *never* know that her thoughts had gone there--so she scrambled to think of something plausible to say. Finally, something came to her. “There are bad stories about the lake,” she said nonchalantly, moving to pet Agides. As she stroked his neck, she tried not to think of Clarkent’s bare neck . . . or the bareness beneath it.
“What kinds of stories?” Clarkent asked her.
“There’s supposed to be a mysterious Lady of the Lake who punishes any evil people who come into her waters,” she told him. “So we should stay out of the lake.”
“We’re not evil,” the stableboy noted skeptically. “And besides, those are just stories.”
She turned to him, irked that he was resisting her on this. “You shouldn’t swim in there.” She swallowed as she saw that his shirt was still off.
“I’ve been in there before and not gotten hurt. I’m hot, and I’m going in. *You* should come, too.”
“No, you’re not going in there!” she snapped, her voice coming close to a yell. “It’s dangerous in Avalon Lake. You could die.”
“You *like* danger!” he pointed out. “Just because you’re scared of swimming--”
“I am *not* scared of swimming!” she protested.
He crossed his arms across that still-bare chest. “Then why won’t you come in the water?”
“I told you,” she hissed. “The Lady of the Lake will punish--”
“*Oh*! Stop using your stupid stories as an excuse--”
She narrowed her eyes. “My stories are not stupid--”
“You shouldn’t base your life around stories. And if you’re scared, you should just admit it--”
“I do *not* base my life around stories, and I am *not* scared of the water! You don’t know anything about my life--”
“That’s because you never tell me anything when I ask!” he returned, throwing his arms up in the air. “Anytime I try to ask about your parents, you clam up--”
“Well, they’re *dead*, all right!?” She was almost in tears. “Forgive me if I don’t want to talk about them!”
“You can’t keep everything all bottled up inside! You have to let it out sometime--”
“You wouldn’t understand!” she shouted. “You have the perfect set of loving parents who would do anything for you! I have nothing! Do you know how hard it is for me to look at them and see what I can’t have?”
“Gawain--”
“Just forget it! Swim in your stupid lake! I’m taking Agides back to the stable!”
Clarkent watched as Gawain mounted the brown horse and then galloped away. The heat of the day suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Had he lost his friend forever?
He nearly cried out after Gawain, but he didn’t think the other boy would listen even if he did. With clumsy fingers, he put his shirt back on, staring mournfully in the direction that his friend had disappeared.
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Chapter 22 Glossary
Avalon Lake: I’m using only the Arthurian association here rather than the full traditional meaning of “Avalon.” Avalon is not actually a lake but an island where Excalibur was forged and where Arthur is taken to recover from his major battle with Mordred (in versions where Arthur does not die).
Lady of the Lake: The Lady of the Lake is figure in Arthurian legend whose role varies depending on the author. She is often portrayed as giving Arthur the sword Excalibur and occasionally as enchanting the enamored Merlin.
