48.
Midsummer In the blink of an eye the wheel of the year turned.
I became more used to my duties as guardian of the well,
Simple as they seemed at that point.
And so it was Midsummer when I first met Joan.
I say first,
For as with Dan,
From the moment we met it was as if we picked up the threads of some long ago conversation which was resumed centuries later.
And as before,
A few more of the dots of my life became joined to create another part of the picture which was beginning to emerge,
Although at the time much still remained unclear.
I had never been one to see ghosts or hear voices,
Although I was susceptible to atmosphere,
And soon became aware,
The moment I set foot over the threshold of the chapel,
If anyone had visited,
And the energy they left behind,
I never saw or heard any of the spirits other people so readily spoke of.
There was a monk,
I was told,
Who stood just inside the door,
And an ancient spirit who resided in the corner to the left of the altar.
Try as I might,
I was unable to see or feel either of them.
And so it was something of a shock to open the door one day to discover a knight standing before the altar,
Appearing perfectly at home,
As if his presence was nothing unusual at all.
I must have seemed stunned,
For he grinned good-humouredly,
And I realised he was reading one of the little leaflets about the chapel.
Would a ghost or spirit be reading a leaflet?
St.
Clever,
He waved the piece of paper at me and smiled disarmingly,
One of the twenty-four children of King Brecon of Wales.
Yes,
It was about all I could muster in reply.
He was an imposing figure in his white tunic,
Bearing the red and gold emblem of a lion,
And he even had a sword in a scabbard leaning against the altar,
Although the iPod tucked into his belt and earplugs hanging around his neck somewhat spoilt the illusion.
I noticed the sunlight filtering through the window glinted red upon his hair,
And judged him to be in his late teens,
A good ten years younger than myself.
He stepped forwards,
Holding out his hand,
And I had the impression of a large,
Playful puppy,
All paws and filled with good-natured energy.
Re-enactment society,
He explained,
Glancing down at his costume.
Just on my way to Tintagel,
But had a few minutes to spare,
So thought I'd call in.
I've heard about this place,
But never actually made it here before.
He glanced around.
Awesome,
Isn't it?
I nodded,
Pretty much.
I could not help smiling.
There was something so familiar about him,
The way he held his head,
His stature,
The timbre of his voice.
Yet I was certain we had never met before.
Have you lost something?
I asked.
He was glancing around,
Unable to remain still,
As if he was searching.
But he shook his head.
Not really,
He admitted.
It's more as if I've forgotten something,
But I can't quite remember what.
Silly,
Really,
I only felt it when I arrived here and I don't think I left anything at home.
He shrugged and grinned.
I usually do,
Though,
He continued.
Lose things,
All the time,
But they normally turn up when they're ready.
It'll come to me eventually.
I nodded.
Beautiful valley,
Beautiful chapel,
Just the sort of thing I love finding out about.
He grinned disarmingly.
I'm at college at the moment,
Then hopefully going on to uni to read law,
Want to be a solicitor,
Justice must be done and all that.
The door creaked behind me to reveal Dan,
Holding a saw in one hand and the remains of a branch of a tree in the other.
And in the distance I noticed Cornelius making his way down from the highest rock,
Where I knew he had been sitting for most of the morning.
And suddenly there we were.
Looking back now,
Although I did not realise it at the time,
The dots were joining together and we had met yet again in our varying guises to work out our destinies,
To save the maidens of the wells,
To find our true selves and to discover all we had been working toward.
But at that moment none of us had any idea at all.
