Cursed 2

THIRTY SIX

That afternoon, dressed in her best clothes thanks to the brothel madam, Nimue arrived at the castle along with Squirrel and the Weeping Monk. That place housed large towers, an interior courtyard and serpentine landscapes. Inside, two soldiers guarded the tall oak doors of the Great Hall, which on arrival creaked open. In the background, King Uther waited serene on his throne. Nimue entered, and behind her the soldiers blocked the passage of the monk and the boy, striking their spears in the air between them, preventing them from advancing, which caused a reflex action in the monk who placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
The young woman turned at the sound of steel and offered the monk a safe and calm look so that he would not do anything.

“It's okay, nothing's wrong, we'll see you in a few hours.”

The Weeping Monk nodded silently and the tall doors closed behind her, leaving Uther Pendragon and Nimue alone in the Great Hall.

“I thank you for agreeing to speak to me, King Uther.”

“I know” he smiled coldly.

The young woman ignored the comment and continued.

“I've seen that it's surrounded by Church camps. Nobody likes to be cornered, truth?” she hinted, “but there is a solution for that.”

The king frowned and hurriedly rose from his throne approaching Queen Fey.

Meanwhile, leaning on one of the columns of the castle balcony, the Weeping Monk observed two strange men with swords and black robes talking in the inner courtyard. There were many like them hanging around the place and that's why it caught his attention. He could not hear them but he was sure they were not Pendragon soldiers since they did not wear the three crowns of the house. Suddenly, Squirrel's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

“We should have gone with Nimue, I hate waiting” the boy complained as the monk headed for the exit, “Lancelot, where are you going?”

“Don't follow me. Find a discreet way out, I'll go check one thing.”

“An exit for what?”

Without getting an answer, as the monk disappeared from the corridor, Squirrel shrugged his shoulders not understanding what was happening.

On the other hand, inside the Great Hall the atmosphere was becoming increasingly heavy as the meeting progressed. With a firm step, Uther stopped in front of Nimue.

“They're just kids, they have nothing to do against a king!” he replied proudly, “If I wanted those camps would drop like flies.”

“If you wanted?”

“I'm not stupid enough to start a war against the Church.”

“So you are rejecting the pact I offer you?”

“On the contrary” he stammered, “I have been reflecting a lot... I would not fight a battle alone but I think that together we could get rid of those religious, we would only need a bait, and that's you, and they will run like rats towards an ambush led by my army.”

“Is that your plan? I'm not sure it's going to work.”

“How dare you!” the king exploded raising his voice.

The expression on Uther's face turned serious and he fell silent for a few seconds adjusting his clothing as he tried to calm himself before continuing.

“I'm hungry!” he said suddenly, “It is not good to think on an empty stomach, we better leave the details for later. I invite you to dinner, you can bring your friends.”

Annoyed Nimue couldn't help but feel like she was wasting time. 

During that time, on the outside of the castle the Weeping Monk was heading cautiously towards the small camps that were outside with a bad feeling but changed course when he saw that there were no longer any around Pendragon. Restless, he returned to the city and saw sitting outside an inn two inexperienced paladins from those camps drinking happily.
The paladins seeing him approach immediately recognized him and stood up energetically ready to fight. Without drawing his sword, the monk knocked one of them down with a punch to the nose leaving him unconscious on the floor and grabbed the other firmly by the head giving him a sharp blow against the splintered table. With the boy's face resting on the table, the monk leaned close to his ear and whispered.

“Where are the others?! Tell me!”

“Please, please don't kill me, I don't even believe in God, I just joined in to make my family happy, they haven't even taught me to fight yet” he replied nervously.

The monk pressed the paladin's head harder against the table.

“Answer me!”

“They are gone! Members of the Trinity came by order of Abbot Wicklow and ordered us to withdraw. They said they had to capture someone, and that by not receiving training yet we would only be a hindrance. I don't know anything else, I swear, I just wanted to drink something” he answered between sobs.

At that moment he realized, those men dressed in black who were in the castle were from the Trinity.

“Nimue!” he exclaimed to himself running towards there afraid that he would be late.

At the end of the brief meeting, Nimue left the castle not very satisfied trying to be patient when two soldiers approached her.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

“They've sold you, witch.”

Those words that echoed in her ears pierced her heart like needles thinking that the Weeping Monk had betrayed her.
Anger began to run inside her and made grape leaves emanate on her face, causing the branches of some nearby trees to grab the necks of those men, giving her the opportunity to run. Pursued through the steep and narrow streets of Pendragon, the young woman ended up in a dead end when a boy caught her eye.

“Hey! Here!”

“Squirrel!”