The Return of Sir Percival by S. Alexander O'Keefe Page A

memory, and a distant and faded one at that. I don’t believe there are any who would come so far to do me ill, or for that matter, who would come so far to support my cause.”
    The room was deathly quiet for a long moment, and then Verdino spoke in a voice that was so soft as to be barely audible.
    â€œAs to the first, there is surely one. As to the second, have patience, Highness. He comes.”
    Guinevere blinked at his cryptic statement, and Verdino stood abruptly, bowed, and walked to the door. He stopped at the threshold, bowed again, and then hurried away.
    â€œThe man speaks in riddles,” Cadwyn said with exasperation. “Do you know the meaning of his words, Milady?”
    The Queen leaned back in her chair, surprised by the cryptic exchange. “No, Cadwyn, I do not.”

C HAPTER 5
    T HE R OAD TO L ONDINIUM
    apussa sat on a long stone bench, his back resting against the wall of a two-story stone tower that looked as if it had been abandoned for many years. A fire was burning a step away, in the bottom of a dry cistern. The light from the flames illuminated a small courtyard and the ruins of an encircling wall.
    The Numidian reached into his cloak and drew out an apple, a gift from one of the farmers they had left in Caer Ceint the day before. He rotated the rich red orb in his hand, weighing whether this was the right time to savor this new and unknown taste. After a moment’s reflection, he decided to defer the pleasure until the morning and returned the apple to his cloak.
    Several minutes later, Percival entered the courtyard through a gap in the wall, carrying a load of dry branches. After piling the branches near the edge of the cistern, the Knight walked over and sat down beside Capussa.
    â€œYou have camped here before, my friend.” he noted.
    Percival nodded. “I was assigned to a force under the command of Sir Gawain, one of the Knights of the Table. We were tasked with destroying a force of pirates and brigands harassing Caer Ceint and the surrounding ports.” He gestured toward the crumbling walls encircling the overgrown courtyard. “On the way, we stopped here for a night. This place was once a way station for the Roman legions and for the imperial post traveling between Dubris and Londinium.”
    â€œYou thought well of this man?”
    Percival hesitated a moment before answering. “I did. Gawain … he was a wise and good man. I had hoped to see him again … to thank him for his wise counsel. It saved my life more than once during my quest.”
    Capussa nodded. “You must speak to me of this another time. Tonight, I would have you tell me of your Queen. Is she young, old, tall, short, beautiful, or not?”
    â€œI have already spoken of this,” Percival said.
    â€œNot so, my friend,” Capussa said, raising a hand in protest. “We have lived, trained, fought, and traveled half the world together, yet in all that time, you have rarely spoken of this Queen Guinevere. You have told me of King Arthur, your fellow Knights of the Table Round, and of your home, but Guinevere … this you have kept to yourself. If that is your will, I shall respect it.”
    â€œIndeed?” Percival said skeptically as he leaned back against the wall, a hint of amusement in his eyes
    â€œHowever,” Capussa continued in a lecturing tone, “remember, you have tasked me with finding your Queen and giving her your last report in the event the gods take you before your long quest comes to an end. Unless I know—”
    â€œYou are right,” Percival said quietly. He reached inside his shirt and gently drew a silver chain over his head. A gold medallion was affixed to the chain. The Knight stared at the medallion for a moment before handing it to his friend.
    Capussa cradled the gold medallion in his palm and stared at the image of a woman’s face that a craftsman of consummate skill had imprinted on one side of the