The Return of Sir Percival Read Online Free Page B

encircled by two restraining pieces of twine.
    â€œQuite a lot, Milady. The sparrows have much to report.”
    â€œThen let’s get started, my dear.”
    Cadwyn untied the strings on two of the parchments, handed one to Guinevere, and opened the second herself. “Mary, in Camulodunom … a cobbler’s wife, yes,” Guinevere said as she rolled out the parchment.
    â€œMilady, do you know all of the women? How many are there?” Cadwyn asked.
    â€œNo, but I do remember most. At one time or other, I have exchanged letters with all of them. As for how many, I can’t say. Before the fall, there were about five hundred.”
    â€œDid the King know you had all these spies?”
    Guinevere looked up from the parchment, a thoughtful look on her face. “No, but then I never really thought of them as spies. I wanted to have a friendly set of eyes and ears in every city and town in the kingdom … people who could tell me about matters of import to them.”
    â€œHow did you know whom to trust?”
    â€œSome were people that I knew, but most came to me through others that I trusted, people like … say, Cadwyn Hydwell.”
    Cadwyn smiled at the compliment and asked, “Why just women, Milady?”
    Guinevere smiled. “If you wanted to know what was really going on in the Abbey, would you ask Ferghus, the stablemaster, or Rowena, the cook?”
    â€œRowena for sure. That woman knows things …,” Cadwyn said, her voice trailing off in embarrassment.
    â€œIndeed, she does,” Guinevere said as she reached for another parchment. “Men and women talk when they eat and drink, and most of the people serving them are women. So they hear, as you say, many ‘things.’ I wanted the Rowenas of this land to be my little sparrows … to tell me about anything that was important in their city, town, or village.” Her smile faded.
    â€œBefore the fall, those tidings enabled me to save innocent men and women from unfair punishment by a dishonest lord, to reward the good, to punish the bad, to be a better Queen—at least that was my hope.”
    â€œYou are a wonderful Queen, Milady,” Cadwyn said with a smile.
    â€œWhy, thank you, my dear. Can you hand me another scroll?”
    â€œYes, Milady.”
    As she read through the missives, each writing wove another thread into the tapestry of pain and suffering that was now Albion. Londinium was the worst. Hengst and his raiders had turned the population into virtual slaves, leading many to secretly leave the city in the dark of night. Of late, the Norse warlord had banned these departures by branding people to mark them as his subjects. Those caught attempting to escape, or found outside of the city, would suffer torture or death in the monthly games Hengst held in Londinium’s old Roman stadium.
    When Guinevere put down the last letter, she closed her eyes, and the shadows from the flames flickered and danced across her beautiful face.
    â€œSometimes … oftentimes,” Guinevere began, in a voice laden with regret, “I feel that I … Arthur, the Table … we failed them. We were supposed to protect them. That was our charge, our promise to the cobbler, the baker, the farmer, and their wives and children. We were supposed to keep them safe from monsters like Hengst the Butcher— and we did not honor that sacred duty.”
    â€œMilady,” Cadwyn said in a heartfelt tone, “I am not a wise woman, nor, as I’m sure the abbess has told you, a very pious one, but God cannot fault you or the Pendragon and his Knights, for the fall. I have heard the tales, my Queen. Every man and woman gave their all in those last days and hours. It was … it was not to be, but, as you always say, Milady, tomorrow is another day, and we must work to remake what was broken.”
    Guinevere turned to the younger woman, took Cadwyn’s face in her hands, and kissed her