Page 20 of The Quest for Excalibur
“Are you Arthur?” A gruff voice, deep and resonant.
“No. I’m Nathan.” A pause. “Nathan Wilton, Gwen’s boyfriend.”
No!
I wanted to scream, but sound wouldn’t come. Or maybe it did. Hands took hold of me, pushing me down. I thrashed, fighting back, as somewhere far off wild animal noises rose.
“We’ll have to sedate her. Sir, can you stay seated. She’s clearly frightened of you. Gwen, I’m just going to give you a little scratch on your arm. Hold her still. There.” A pause. “Radio ahead and make sure the police are waiting for us.”
“I didn’t touch her. I swear. I found her like this in the tower.”
“Save that for the police, sir.”
A woman laughing.
“Do not believe your dreams.”
Darkness.
*
I awoke ina hospital bed. Whiteness everywhere. Cool crisp sheets, lots of pillows. Alone.
A nurse in blue scrubs came over. “Good, you’re awake.” She lifted my wrist and took my pulse. “Everything’s getting back to normal. That was a heck of a bang you took on your head. How are you feeling now?”
I swallowed thick spit. “Thirsty.” Croaky voice still.
She smiled. Young and pretty with her blonde hair in a high ponytail, she had kindness stamped through her like a stick of seaside rock. “Here you are. Let’s sit you up a bit, then you can drink properly.”
After she’d adjusted my bed and helped me sit up straighter, she handed me a plastic beaker of water. “Small sips. It might make you vomit.”
I ignored her and took a big gulp.Chlorinated water. Yuck.
I pulled a disgusted face. “Where am I?”
“West Mendip Hospital, Glastonbury. Guinevere Ward.”
My eyes flew wide. How very ironic. Memory flooded back. I plonked the beaker on the table beside the bed. “I shouldn’t be here. This is wrong.”
She put a gentle hand on my shoulder, pushing me back against the mountain of pillows. “Yes, you should. The police will be coming to talk to you in a while. To find out who did this to you. Just lie still, please. Bed rest for you.”
I bit my bottom lip and lay still. How on earth had I got here? And hadn’t I heardNathan’s voice? A voice I could scarcely recall after twelve years’ absence. And yet, he hadn’t sounded surprised to see me after all that time. I struggled to piece together the jigsaw in my aching head, and failed.
The nurse went away. I finished the water in the beaker, despite its taste, and refilled it from the jug. Several times. Then I lay back and closed my eyes, surprised by the weakness in my limbs. My exploring fingers found a bandage circling my head. One of the horses must have kicked me, or maybe I’d hit my head on a rock.
Time crawled.
From where I lay, I had a good view of the nurses’ station and the clock on the wall over it. Half past five. In the afternoon? Electric street lighting filtered through the drawn blinds on the windows. Dark already. Winter.
I closed my tired eyes, but a girl-child with long dark hair and Merlin’s eyes haunted me, pointing a pale hand into bottomless water. “Do not believe your dreams.” And a woman’s triumphant laughter plagued my half-waking moments.
“Miss Fry?”
I blinked awake, heart hammering with relief at being free of that laughter.
A policeman stood before me. Young, with short cropped blonde hair and a cherubic face. Spots covered his chin and forehead.
I managed a smile. “Yes?”
