Echoes of Avalon (Tales of Avalon Book 1) (62 page)

#

They rode for a long time, and during all that time Katherina was silent. Patrick veered off the beaten path into the woods.

“Where are we going?” she asked. Her face was still solemn. She had not taken the news of Aimeé’s death lightly, and felt responsible. Patrick had tried arguing that point with her, but she wouldn’t have it. So he let her have her misery.

“I have some unfinished business,” was all he said, and she did not question him any further. They came to the mouth of the cave and he dismounted. “You will be safe here with Siegfried, even though there really is no longer anything to worry about. I dare say that if there were anything dangerous on this island, I have already killed it.”

With that, Patrick slipped into the darkness.

As before, he stumbled his way to the main cavern until his feet struck the treasure pile, and there he laid the sword and scuffed armor. He waited for some time, expecting a soft glow to appear. But nothing came. He guessed that his job was done, and that the gratitude should just be understood. He couldn’t be angry with them.

He turned to leave, and when he did, he knocked something over. It clinked and rolled a short ways. Without knowing why, he bent down to pick it up.

It was the chalice with which they had healed him. He hefted it in his hand, and looked upon it long and thoughtfully. He started to leave with it.

The cavern became brilliant.

“No, Kinsman, it is forbidden,” boomed a female voice.

Three maidens stood before him.

“Many things are forbidden, but still done,” he said.

“Do not do this, it is unnatural,” she pleaded.

He gritted his teeth and looked upon the women with pain and anger. “Unnatural? You talk to me of what is natural and unnatural? Since I’ve come to this island, very little of what I have seen is natural. If God did not want me to do this, then he wouldn’t have put this in my path.” He shook the cup at them. “He wouldn’t even have let me have knowledge of its existence, and what it can do. There are no coincidences.”

The maidens were silent, yet parted before him, exposing the exit.

“You are right that this does not belong in the hands of man, and I will return it. But first, I will set things right.”

Patrick left the cavern, and the glow faded away.

#

When Patrick and Katherina finally saw Greensprings, they gasped in wonderment. The walls were damp and glistening, and a majestic rainbow arched over it as if painted. The familiar keep was suddenly transformed into an enchanted fortress.

When they entered, they found it oddly empty.

“Where is everyone?” Katherina asked. “Are they all dead after all?”

Patrick shook his head. “If they were, the bodies would still be here.”

They then heard singing. It came from the keep chapel, and so they followed it there.

Sure enough, the entirety of Greensprings was gathered. So many that the crowd spilled from the door onto the steps and people stood on their toes to get a better view. At first, nobody noticed the knight and the princess approaching, but when they did, they gasped and parted to offer a path.

Patrick and Katherina strode down the aisle, dirty and disheveled. At the altar were Father Constant, Mother Superior, Rosa Maria and King Mark. Laid out before them was Aimeé.

Katherina stayed at the bottom of the dais, and Patrick mounted the few stairs to the altar. Mark looked as if he were trying to voice something, but nothing came.

Patrick withdrew the chalice from his surcoat and set it on the altar next to the communion cup. He transferred the contents of the communion cup to the chalice, then brought it to Aimeé’s lips. The dark liquid pooled, then disappeared into the thin gap between her lips. Nothing stirred except for a rustle of clothing as people leaned forward; a quiet murmur rippled through the congregation.

Then Aimeé’s lips slowly moved, taking in more wine.

Within moments, she was coughing and fighting to sit up.

“Wh-what happened?” she murmured.

The church came alive with sound, murmurs growing into gasps of shock and joy. Everyone was pressing around them to be near. Father Hugh’s eyes were wide and he crossed himself. Mother Superior had tears in her eyes, but was smiling as she pressed her hands together, mouth moving in a joyous hallelujah.

“You are alive and well, Aimeé,” Patrick said softly.

She took a handful of his sleeve to steady herself. “But why?”

Patrick took her in his arms. “That is somewhat of a long story, but suffice to say that I found a treasure right under my nose, and I am not about to let it get away.”

Aimeé’s brow furrowed, but a smile broke out across her face like a light. She looked around in wonder.

Mark was demanding to know what had happened, Katherina was weeping with joy, Sir Waylan, the other knights, Anna, Claire, Rosa Maria and so many others were pressed around them and clapping and laughing.

Patrick was pleased to see that Sir Jon held his arm out for Katherina to take. Willy had his hand on her shoulder, and Trent stood behind, embracing all of them in his gangly arms. Patrick was confident that she was in good hands, and would not be wanting for friends.

It was going to be a long story. But there was time for it now, and there was still more to do before Patrick could do what he wanted to do most
―
go home, to Eire. He also knew that here was home as well. He knew that he belonged here. That he had always belonged here, he just hadn’t been letting himself. Yes, first he would straighten things out on Avalon, then he would return and be an Avangarde as he rightfully would be, personality flaws and all. But first, he had a promise to keep.

“Aimeé, how would you like to meet my mother, in Eire?”

THE END

About the Author

Adam Copeland was born and raised in Silverton, Oregon. He attended Southern Oregon State College (now Southern Oregon University) in Ashland, Oregon. There he studied business, chemistry and French. He spent a year study abroad in France and has ever since been passionate about traveling internationally, going to such places as diverse as Asia, Africa and Mexico. He is an avid outdoorsman, enjoying hiking, backpacking, camping, mountain trekking and scuba diving. He is a co-founder of Northwest Independent Writers Association (NIWA), an organization dedicated to helping indie writers from the Pacific Northwest write, publish, and promote their work. Adam currently resides in Vancouver, Washington State where he is an active member of St. Joseph's Catholic Church.