"Promise we will sleep by the fire again," the knight whispered and Ginny nodded, only too happy to oblige, before they sat by the fire close to each other, opposite Garreth and the prince.

"I was just asking Sir Garreth if the absence of people on the roads is normal," the prince turned to them while Garreth pulled four fish wrapped in leaves from the hot stones surrounding the dancing flames carefully. He left the parcels, sending mouthwatering aroma into the night, to cool a little, making Ginny realise how hungry she was. She could hardly focus on the man's words as he continued, "It's nearly as if the country was at war, and the people ran off, or hid..."

That got her attention. Has anything happened since they left Iseabail's inn? They had not met anyone in two days...

She exhaled with relief when she heard her knight reply to him, "I'm sure that if something happened, we would have heard from home. Have you forgotten, Arthur," he said, his blue eyes boring into the prince's brown orbs, "that your father knows well where we are, and promised to send for us should the Saxon troops move."

"Oh yes, I have quite forgotten that," the prince admitted, looking as relieved as Ginny.

"I've been wondering," the knight continued, his eyes now following Garreth who passed the fish around, "if the empty roads have anything to do with the strange mist, and the great distances we travel each day. I wasn't sure we would reach Tintagel in only six days when we left Dudley Castle, and yet, we are nearly there..."

Ginny saw Garreth's cheeks flush in the moving light of the fire. Was it really his doing? she mused, then, seeing how uncomfortable he looked under her knight's scrutiny, she rushed to his rescue. "Well, it must be the peregrine falcon then," she said, giggling, "he must be a wizard in disguise, sent to watch over us by Lord John, who loves Garreth like his own son. Have you noticed how it's been at our heels, or rather above our heads, since we left Dudley?"

Ginny thought that she had seen the strange bird even before, in the woods close to Aunt's Ealasaid's castle, but she wasn't sure. Too many things had happened since they set out on this quest.

Garreth smiled at her thankfully even as Sir Lancelot replied, "You might be right, Gwendolyn. We might just have some magical guardian, watching our every move."

"Why don't we take a boat to Glastonbury?" the prince asked suddenly, changing the subject. Following Garreth's example, he tossed the leftovers of his meal into the fire so their food wouldn't attract wild animals at night. "There must be a village with at least one inn on the island; I'm sure I have seen lights through the fog before."

Ginny laughed, letting her knight dispose of their leftovers while she washed her hands, then held the water flask to him. Prince Arthur was incorrigible; did he ever think of anything else but cards and ale?!

"People call it Holy Isle for a reason, my lord," she told the prince. "There is only a church, a small army of monks, and a handful of nuns living in a monastery built on its shores. Unless you wish to visit the monks..."

The prince frowned; that, apparently, wasn't his idea of fun.

"I always thought that it was more suitable for a woman to become a nun, and spend her life in prayers, than for a man..." he mused. Like his friend, he had not realised how the new religion, brought to their isles by the Romans, had spread in this part of the country.

"I think I agree with you, Your Highness," Ginny said, surprising all the men, her eyes searching the prince's above the fire, "I'd rather be a nun than an obedient daughter, respectful of her father's order to wed a man without love. Women... seem to have become mere chattels of men, bartered, and trapped in loveless marriages... expected to sit quietly at the hearth and give birth to male heirs..."

"Well, I agree with you, my lady," the ginger man said, inclining his head to her with great courtesy, before he finally looked away from her. His eyes met Arthur's, who sat at the girl's side, a protective arm wrapped around her waist pulling her closer to himself as she pronounced those words, so close that her head was now resting in the crook of his shoulder. She really was an intriguing being, no wonder that Arthur was so smitten.

"This is a beautiful place." The prince changed the subject again, tearing his eyes off the couple. "Should I pull the Excalibur from the stone, and become the High King, I'll build my castle right here, overlooking the Lake and its Holy Isle."

Garreth chuckled. "And you would not have much work to do that. There is an abandoned Roman fort standing on a hill on the other side of the lake. It's large and easily defended, with all the moors, swamps, and small lakes spreading around this one. In winter, when it rains often, they flow into each other, creating a lake as large as the sea."

"The fort is called Camelot," Ginny muttered, then yawned.

"Let us go to sleep. There's no need to keep watch, there's no one but us here. But Lady Gwendolyn and I will spend the night out here, so you can rest easy," the knight said, even as another sheet of lightning glimmered in the sky, followed by a loud thunder and the first raindrops.

"Not lucky tonight, are we, Lancelot?" The prince laughed, stood up quickly, and ran towards the tents even as the rain thickened.

Sir Lancelot helped Ginny to her feet, and she headed towards her tent, following her cousin sadly, when the knight took her hand in his and pulled her towards his tent.

"Arthur, my friend, why don't you swap places with Lady Gwendolyn tonight? I'm sure Sir Garreth will not mind."

Ginny buried her face into the knight's shoulder to muffle her giggle at seeing the prince's surprised face looking up at them as they crouched in the tent's entrance. It was barely visible in the light of the dying fire losing its short battle against the rain and another tremulous lightning, while the knight held the flap of the tent open for the prince.

He's... not that bad, after all, Ginny thought, noticing that Prince Arthur looked neither shocked nor disapproving when he stood up, and, his moustache twitching with a smile, bid them good night before he left. That went easier than she would have thought, so easy indeed that the princess started to feel a pang of guilt towards the man she was promised to marry.

"This... hardly feels proper..." she whispered, letting herself fall to what she guessed was her knight's sleeping place, pulling a midnight blue blanket she found there, similar to the one he had given to her, close around her body.

In another flash of lightning seeping through the thin walls of the tent, she saw him lay down at her side, pulling her to him.

"Does this feel improper to you? I just want to have you near..." he said softly, and she felt elation spread through her body, like the warmth emanating from him.

No. It felt like the best thing she had ever done, the most beautiful moment of her life. But she was too tired to tell him so; she only shook her head, smiling at him as she drifted off to sleep.

Outside in the rain, Lancelot hesitated a little. He stood still next to the tent for a few moments, waiting for the girl to come to her senses and change her mind about spending the night in a tent with a man she hardly knew. If anyone found out, she would be ruined.

When she did not come out, he shook his head incredulously and walked to Sir Garreth's tent, his thoughts strolling back to his cousin. Lady Gwendolyn was different from the other girls he knew. She was brave, unafraid to speak her mind and follow her heart, meet her destiny... She would be a perfect match, the perfect queen for Arthur. A woman worthy to stand by his side, capable of taking care of her people and kingdom whenever her king would be in war, trying to drive the Saxons away once and forever. Lancelot was sure that even the Knights of Arthur's Company would learn to love and respect a woman like her easily.

On reaching the other tent, he spoke softly through the damp fabric, "Your cousin and my knight banished me from my tent. Unless you offer me hospitality, Sir Garreth, I'll have to sleep in the rain." He chuckled.

"Do come in, Your Highness," Garreth replied from within. "Is my cousin safe?" he added as the man climbed into the tent, much smaller than his and Arthur's, shaking droplets of water off his ginger hair and removing his damp jacket.

"She is as safe and happy as she wants to be, Sir Garreth. I swear to you that my knight would never do anything against her will."

Garreth nodded in the darkness, feeling appeased by the prince's words, and the two men lying mere inches from each other listened to the pounding of rain, morphing soon into a whisper of drizzle, lulling them to sleep.