Dawn of Camelot by Quinn Taylor Evans

Author:Quinn Taylor Evans [Evans, Quinn Taylor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zebra
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Meg had never experienced anything like the next hours at Caerleon. It was difficult to believe that Arthur and his men had been victorious at Amesbury. The wounds needing to be stitched and bandaged seemed endless.

She worked alongside Dannelore and the other women, moving from pallet to pallet, closing wounds, applying poultices, tearing cloth for more bandages.

Merlin tirelessly worked along with them, refusing to have his own wound tended too, insisting that he could care for it himself.

When a bone needed mending, his touch eased broken ends back into place. When bleeding could not be stopped, he closed a wound. When pain was unbearable, he closed the warrior's mind to it. And when death was inevitable, he sat beside the fallen warrior, easing that final journey from life.

It was late. Sometime past she vaguely remembered the evening meal had been served. Then, the rest of Arthur's and Connor's men joined the injured, laying out their pallets on the earthen floor of the main hall for it was too cold to sleep in the yard outside.

The fire blazed at the hearth and several braziers had been lit about the large hall, adding their warmth for those who slept there. Over the snoring of sleeping men there was an occasional moan from one of the wounded who was quickly tended by one of the women.

Dannelore had tended John's wounds, which were not serious, and then had gone with him to the pantry to find something to eat, for there was little left of the deer meat stew they'd prepared in anticipation of Arthur's return.

Lady Morgana had not been pleased about the condition she had found her chamber in upon her return. It was the same as when she had left after the attack by Constantine's men; there had been no time to clean it before her arrival.

She refused to sleep in it, claiming it unfit for a pigsty, and chose instead the larger chamber that had once belonged to Lady Ygraine. She then insisted that one of the village women clean it and provide fresh straw for her pallet.

When she was informed that there was none due to the fact that it had all been used in the main hall below, her furious response was heard throughout the hall. Then she discovered that the door had not been replaced across the threshold. The poor village woman sought out Meg, wringing her hands.

"What am I to do? Nothing pleases her. She says a tapestry across the opening is not enough protection with so many men about."

Meg failed to see the reason for alarm. "Tell her that if the room does not please her, she may sleep down here."

The poor woman looked at her aghast. Old Radvald who had sought her out for some salve for a burn coughed loudly. He didn't seem nearly so ill disposed as amused.

"I cannot tell her that!"

Meg had shrugged. "Very well then. She can sleep in the stables. It offers comfort and privacy. And she can close the door.

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