Four: In Which Apologies and Quests Are Issued With Formality

Upon returning to the castle, the first order of business (after getting everyone dry again) was deciding what to do with Sir Caramin. Obviously, trying to steal away the future queen of the Enchanted Forest wasn't something that could go unanswered. As Willin put it, "It would send the wrong message".

"Toss him in the moat!" the gargoyle suggested with his usual helpfulness. The assembled group of Mendanbar, Cimorene, Morwen, Telemain, and Willin all glanced up at the contorted wooden features of the gargoyle.

"He'd drown," Cimorene said.

The gargoyle snorted. "So? It would sure send a message." His beady eyes fixed on Mendanbar. "You don't want other people putting spells on your queen, do you?"

Morwen shook her head. "Given that Sir Caramin's only crime is a lack of sense, I think something more appropriate would be in order."

"I was thinking something more along the lines of a quest," Mendanbar said.

"Bah. None of you are any fun."

Ignoring the gargoyle, Cimorene turned her attention to Mendanbar. "What did you have in mind?"

"A quest in search of Herman's boarding school for lost heirs. Herman can explain to him how to recognise a good magician from a evil one and it'll be good advertising for him, too." He glanced at her, eyebrows raised. "What do you think?"

Cimorene nodded. "I think it will do very nicely." He looked pleased and she couldn't help but smile as, for a moment, their eyes remained locked on each other.

"Oh please," came the scratchy voice from the corner. "Enough with the googley-eyed staring. All this sweet stuff's going to make everyone's teeth rot out."

"Your teeth are made of wood," Mendanbar grumbled under his breath.

She squeezed his arm, but her smile faded as she glanced over to their companions and noted that Telemain looked distinctly uncomfortable. His shoulders were hunched and he kept twisting one of his magic rings in such a way that made her wonder if he was about to transport himself somewhere far, far away. Nor was he meeting anyone's eyes. He must have begun to remember the past two days.

"Let's bring in, Sir Caramin. I suppose," Mendanbar added, glancing at Willin, "you'll want me to make it all very official?"

Willin tugged at his green velvet coat and stood very straight. "Of course, Your Majesty. The situation necessitates it."

Mendanbar sighed. "Very well. Bring him in."

With a satisfied nod, Willin went to fetch the chastened knight and brought him before Mendanbar. He looked very pale as he stood there in the centre of the study in his newly-cleaned armour. "Your Majesty," he said with a low bow, "please do allow me to extend my most humble apologies. I'm afraid this has all been a terrible mistake."

"I accept your apology," Mendanbar said with a nod, "but as reparation for your mistake I must issue you a quest." Caramin straightened, his expression similar to those she'd seen on the faces of knights when Kazul smiled at them. "Seek out Herman and his School for Lost Heirs and learn the difference between good and evil magicians."

Caramin sagged with relief. "Oh thank you, Your Majesty. You are most understanding and exceedingly merciful. But umm... how shall I find this school?"

"Go to Mountains of Morning and just... ask for directions. I'm sure you'll find someone who knows the way eventually."

"Directions?" Caramin repeated.

"Yes," Mendanbar said with a nod. "Directions. Willin, would you see him on his way?"

The elf gave a low bow. "Yes, Your Majesty." And with that he led the baffled knight out of Mendanbar's study.

Mendanbar let out a long breath. "At least that's over with. Now maybe we can get back to finalizing the wedding plans. Willin made a point of telling me three times this morning that we were behind schedule."

The very mention of the wedding filled Cimorene with a bubbly feeling from top to toes. Dear Mendanbar, clever, kind, sensible–and tall to boot! What more could she have asked for?

She turned as Telemain cleared his throat loudly. "Regarding the wedding..." He stepped forward, not quite meeting their eyes as he glanced from Mendanbar to Cimorene and back again. "I'm sorry about–err–about my behaviour over the past two days. I assure you I would never knowingly interfere with your relationship."

"We know that," Cimorene said, taking Mendanbar's arm. She remembered what Morwen had said about how differently an evil magician would have behaved, and how the spell had had to thoroughly confuse Telemain in order to compel him to court her.

"If you'd rather I didn't attend the wedding I'd understand completely and–"

Mendanbar raised a hand to stop him. "You're coming to the wedding and you're going to be my best man. It's too late to back out now."

"Are you sure–"

"We're sure," Cimorene jumped in.

Mendanbar nodded. "In fact you've done us a great service. After all, it was your presence that spoiled Antorell's plans. If Sir Caramin had used the spell on Cimorene..." His expression darkened. "That would have been very bad."

For a moment Telemain rubbed his beard and appeared to be considering the scenario. "Yes, I see," he murmured.

As Telemain was ruminating, Cimorene stole a glance at Morwen only to find her watching Telemain, a little smile tugging at her lips.

Willin returned and announced that Sir Caramin had set off on his quest. While he was giving a full account of the knight's departure, Cimorene sidled up to Telemain. "You should probably apologise to Morwen as well," she whispered.

Telemain's brow furrowed. "To... Morwen?"

"You did cause her a great deal of trouble."

"Oh, of course."

Having completed his report, Willin gave a little bow and then announced that the cook had prepared lunch if they were inclined to eat. As they filed out of the room, Telemain moved to join Morwen. Cimorene didn't hear what he said, but Morwen looked quite pleased so whatever it was, it must have been the right thing. Which, given Telemain's occasional lack of good sense, was a relief.

With a smile, Mendanbar offered Cimorene his arm and together they headed to the banquet hall for lunch. There were still guest lists to finalize and venues to disenchant, but that seemed like little enough now. Squeezing Mendanbar's arm, Cimorene smiled, content that things were, once again, just as they should be.

The End