Gill slowly made his way around the edge of the city and through the forest, savouring every moment of his freedom. The sound of the birds calling one another and the smell of blossom on the cherry trees reminded him of the place that he had missed so much over the past few weeks. The wind blew his hair and the sun warmed his face. Beni was out of his life and for the first time, and nature seemed to Gil to be rejoicing in the fact with him. He arrived at his tree, thankful it had remained just as he had left it. He retrieved his sword, and bow and arrow from inside the tree, but he wasn’t ready to start practicing again yet. He just wanted to take some time and enjoy the moment, re-immerse himself into his sanctuary. He sat down with his back against the tree and watched the seagulls fly overhead. The trees had swollen with shoots of new leaves since the last time he was here, and he pondered on the constant death and re-growth that ties the seasons together. He thought to himself how it must to die and be re-born, to live a lifetime within one year. How exciting the possibilities were to have a new beginning every spring, but what sadness the winter carries. It wasn’t long before Gill fell asleep.
The crack of a twig woke him from his slumber.
“Who goes there?” Gill shouted as he jumped from the ground grabbing his wooden sword on the way up. Crack! Another twig broke. “Show yourself.” Gill pivoted around trying to see what it was that was making the noise. Crack! Crack! The noise was getting louder and he could see the copse in front of him begin to rustle; the movement behind them alerting him of the oncoming danger. “I have a sword!” Gill shouted in an attempt to disguise his fear. The rustling bushes began to part and Gill could see for the first time what was creating the noise. Standing in front of him was a man. As the man stepped from the shadows Gill could make out his unkempt long, thick black hair, and shaggy beard. He was slightly taller than Gill, but much older, and looked to have a strong physique. He was wearing scruffy clothes that looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. As the man approached he raised his palms.
“I am unarmed. I mean you no harm,” the oncoming stranger said. Strangely, although the man that walked toward him possessed the appearance of a bear, Gill's fear began to subside. “I apologise sire for startling you. My name is Olivier, I was a friend of your father’s.”
The stranger’s revelation startled Gill; he felt trapped, unsure what to do. No one had mentioned his father’s name in a long time. Being the protector, the person who looked after his family he reacted without a second thought and ran at him. Gill leapt at the stranger knocking them both to the floor, he struggled to land punches but the stranger was too strong. He rolled Gill onto his back and sat on his chest, pinning both his hands to the floor. Gill struggled but he was unable to break free. “How dare you,” Gill shouted. “How dare you speak of my father? You know nothing of my father.”
“I know he was a good man, and a great friend.”
“No you don’t. You know nothing,” replied Gill, trying to pull his hands from Olivier’s strong grasp.
“I know your mother is Arlette and you also have an uncle who can’t be a lot older than you.” Gill stopped struggling, the realisation that this stranger might know him was sobering to his incomprehensible anguish. “I know your father loved your mother more than life itself.” Olivier continued as the lifted himself from Gill and sat beside him. “I know your father died before you were born, and I know he would have been proud of the man that you have become.” Gill could feel wells of water forming in his eyes.
“How do you know?” Gills voice had become an inquisitive whisper, he wanted to know, but was scared of what he might find out, the sort of voice that would ask a dark cave ‘if there were anyone there’ desperate that his question remained unanswered. His mother had never told him very much, and the secrecy always worried him. Somehow, he felt, that the truth must have been so painful that she couldn’t say. What if what he was about to hear would shatter the visions and dreams he had of his father?
“I was you father’s closest friend Gill. My name is Olivier. My father was the King of Citerne. I also disappeared on the same day your father did, but for very different reasons.” Olivier paused and picked a lone buttercup, inspecting its simplistic beauty. “I trained with him. We lived together, and when my city was overthrown we were to fight together against Chaval.”
“He was a knight?” asked Gill, his furrowed brow evidence to Olivier that this information came as a complete shock He had always felt in his heart that his father must have been a special man. In this barrage of revelation and confusion the confirmation that all this time he was right comforted him slightly.
“He was the best Gill,” replied Olivier. “Your father was strong, brave, and skilled. I see the same qualities in you.” The dam that was holding back Gills tears broke and streams formed down his cheeks. For the first time, all his questions were being answered. He wiped his tears with the cuff of his tunic and waited for Olivier to continue. “You are the image of him Gill.” said Olivier. “If I were not a sane man I would think that I had woken this morning and my dreams had come true and that your father was still alive and sitting in front of me.” Gill stood up and began pacing around the clearing in front of his tree. Gills eyes darted nervously to the sky and floor like a bow of a boat caught in tempest, desperate to find a place of safety on which to rest. His head was spinning; he pulled his canteen from his bag and took some water. He then tipped some into his cupped hand and splashed his face. He offered the canteen to Olivier who declined. “You are also very adept with your weapons,” continued Olivier. “I have watched from a far Gill. I promised your father that I would.”
Gill stood back bemused. “But how?” asked Gill. “How did I not see you?”
“That is not important now,” replied Olivier.
“Well what is then?” said Gill. “Why have you suddenly come out the forest? Why now?” Gill picked up a stone and threw it with venom at a tree.
“I realise this is very hard for you Gill, and I am sorry, but I will answer all your questions in time.” Olivier stood up and brushed the dust from his trousers. “I have shown my face to you for the first time in seventeen years for two reasons.” Olivier took the canteen from Gill and took a drink. Gill sensed that he had probably gone over the words he was about to say a thousand times before.
“Please go on Olivier,” replied Gill, realising he would have to be patient if he was to find out all that he needed.
“The first reason I have revealed myself to you is that I want to help you,” said Olivier.
“How?” interrupted Gill. “Why would I need your help?” Gill felt he had been coping fine up to now, why did he suddenly need a stranger coming into his life, causing confusion and creating doubts.
“I mean not to offend you Gill. You have grown up a strong brave man like your father.” Gill wished he would stop drawing comparisons between him and a man he had never met. “I have watched you develop, how you have mastered your weaponry, you are starting to show talent but I can see that your aggression is holding you back.”
“I do not need your help, I’m doing fine on my own,” replied Gill, turning away from Olivier and making his way back to his tree.
“But to fulfill your destiny Gill, fine will not be good enough. Also I can tell that everything isn’t fine,” Olivier said pointing to the cut on Gills face.
“That was an accident,” replied Gill, turning his cheek to hide the cut left by Beni.
“But it’s not the first accident you have had Gill. I’ve noticed that here have been more.”
“What do you know of my destiny anyway?” asked Gill, trying to shift emphasis to a different subject. “I know who I am and I am in control of my problems. I protect my family, and it appears to me that you can’t even look after yourself.” Gill felt guilty drawing attention to Olivier’s untidy attire, but the fact that Olivier had suggested that he couldn’t take care of his family had offended him. “Don’t appear in my life and tell me I need your help.”
“Well this leads me to my second reason to show myself Gill, and this is going to be far more difficult for you to comprehend. The truth is Gill," Olivier continued, "you don’t know who you are."
“What do you mean?” asked Gill. He hadn’t had any of his questions answered; all Olivier had done had spoken in riddles and created more perplexity.
"The truth is that you are the son of a very important person." Gill stared at Olivier his world had stopped revolving, and his heart beat quickened.
"Your father was killed before he was able to fulfill his destiny. The truth is, this is now your destiny Gill.”
Olivier put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a beautiful silver cross on a long silver chain. It was the most magnificent piece of jewelry Gill had ever seen. It was encrusted with stones of all colours that picked up the suns rays and refracted a kaleidoscope of light across the clearing. Olivier handed the cross to Gill. Gill studied it as it lay in his hand mesmerised by its beauty.
“This was your father’s,” Olivier continued. “I found it the day after your father was killed. You see Gill your father was a very clever man and he knew that he was in danger. He put this cross in my valise without me knowing. He knew that should anything happen to me that I would know what to do with it.” Olivier paused again, allowing Gill to comprehend what he was saying. “Gill your father was the Prince of Avalon, the only known heir to the city. He would have wanted me to give this to you in order that you would know one day who your father was. You Gill, are now the only living heir to Avalon."
Gill could not believe what he was hearing. What did this mean? Why hadn’t his mother said anything? What was he going to do now? He fell to his knees and covered his face with his hand. How could this be? What he had just been told had stolen the air from around him, his world was caving in, and he couldn’t breath. He jumped to his feet and ran. Olivier didn’t follow. Gill ran and ran, in no particular direction just as far away from Olivier and from what he had just been told. He was the son the prince; it didn’t make sense, why had his family had to suffer for so long, why hadn’t he been told before? He ran until his legs wouldn’t carry his body anymore. He collapsed at the top of a sand dune that overlooked the sea. Gill lay on the sand, his knees pulled up to his chest, and cried until the sun set and the world could see his tears no more.
Eventually the tears dried and his solitude gave him comfort no more. He needed to talk to his mother. He stood up and headed in the direction of Avalon. He arrived home long after dark, and the time his mother was expecting him.
“Where have you been I’ve been so worried?” asked Arlette as soon as her son walked through the door. His bloodshot eyes told a tale his mother did not know yet. “What’s the matter, what’s happened?” her worry became replaced with panic. Gill looked his mother in the eyes, walked straight past her without saying a word and sat down at the table. Arlette turned and followed him, frantically taking a seat beside her son. “What is it son? Please tell me.” Gill dipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out the cross and placed it on the table. The blood visibly drained from Arlette's face. The last time Arlette had seen this cross it was round her lover’s neck as he lay next to her in her bed, the morning before he was taken from her forever.
“Where did you get his?” Gill could not tell whether the tone of his mother’s voice was of fear, anger or longing, he presumed a probable mixture of all. For the first time since he could remember he could not read his mother’s emotions.
“It was given to me by a stranger in the woods outside the city,” replied Gill, slightly nervous due to his mother’s unrecognisable initial reaction.
“Don’t play games with me Gill, tell me where you found this.” Gill could definitely now sense anger in his mother’s voice. She leant forward and carefully picked up the cross as if it had been left in the fire and would burn to the touch. She lifted it up and took a closer look. Slowly she closed her palm around it and looked at Gill waiting for a response. “Tell me Gill?”
“Mother, I was at the place that I go most nights to be alone and practice my lyre, just outside the city walls in the forest by the shore.”
“We will deal with the fact you go outside the city walls later Gill. Now tell me exactly how you came to have this cross.”
“I was relaxing by my tree when I was woken by a man coming through the woods toward me. He said his name was Olivier.” Gill could see his mother's eyes widen. “He said he was good friends with my father, and that my father had left this cross in his valise, because he would know what to do with it should anything happen to him.”
“Did he say who your father was?” asked Arlette.
“He said my father was the Prince of Avalon,” Arlette’s head slumped into her hands. “Is this true mother, was my father the Prince?” but her look reaction have already confirmed this.
Arlette took a deep breath, lifted her heavy head from her hands and took hold of Gills hands softly. Gill was still in a state of shock and denial, now was the time for truth but his emotions were vulnerable. His mother’s hand trembled in his. She looked him in the eyes. “I knew the time would come when I would have to tell you the truth about your father and I. I am relieved to be truthful that this time has finally come. If I am to tell you this Gill, you must promise me that you will listen first to all what I have to say without reacting, you need to hear the full story. Can you do that Gill?”
“I will try.” This was starting to feel worse than his meeting with Olivier. All that he knew, everything that made him the person that he was, that grounded him was now in question. His life had been shredded and thrown haphazardly in the air, falling to the ground like ash from a fire. But all his unanswered questions were about to be answered, and although every instinct in his body said run he wanted to hear what his mother had to say, she deserved that much.
She started in a softly spoken voice still holding his hands. “Your father was a very special man Gill.” It was as if these words that were hidden for so long had to be said quietly, as any loud noise would scare them away again. “Yes, he was the Prince, and it is for that reason alone that I have kept his identity from you.” ‘But why?’ Gill wanted to scream but he let his mother continue. “We met for the first time the day he returned from his knight training. He rode past me, our eyes met and something beautiful happened in both our worlds. From that moment neither of our lives were the same again. Your father would come to see me every night after the sun was down and the streets became empty. We would escape the city walls and be together by the sea without thought of prejudice or consequence.” ‘So that’s how she knew about the hole in the city wall’ Gill thought to himself, but he didn't speak. “He would arrive after dark and always have to leave before sun rise. It was too dangerous to let anyone else see us. We didn’t want our relationship to be judged by city gossip, it was worth more than that. We had both found true love and companionship, and had to rejoice in the fact within our cloak of secrecy.”
Gill looked at his mother and with his thumb wiped away a tear that had started to fall down her cheek. “It is such a relief to me mother that you experienced true love with my father. I have always felt such guilt about your life ending when my began.”
“I had a life before you were born Gill, and I will never meet another man like your father. I was blessed that I knew him, and the love he gave me was truly a gift that I will always keep with me, but a new life began when you were born. It was the end of one part, but a beginning of another, and one that I have been equally blessed to have.” Gill couldn’t hold back his smile, there were still so many questions he wanted to ask, but just sitting in their home, at their table, listening to his mother and seeing the happiness in her eyes fulfilled a dream that he had had so many times over.
That evening Arlette continued telling stories of his father; and with each story another of his questions was answered. “Now I understand why you didn't want me to be a knight,” Gill said as his mother explained how his father was a great knight, and that he and Olivier were going to fight against the atrocities that Chaval had bestowed in his beloved land. “So you didn’t want me to be a knight because you were fearful that I would be a great knight like my father, and one day I would have to go to battle.”
“That is partly true Gill,” said Arlette, still holding her son’s hand. Gill could sense that his mother was trying to tackle each of his questions as sensitively as possible. “The king was under enormous pressure around the time I was pregnant with you Gill.” Arlette stood up and walked to the fire. She picked up the stoker and prodded the embers bringing the fire back to life again.
“Please continue mother,” said Gill as he turned around looking at his mother. “I know this must be difficult mother but.”
“I am alright Gill. You have a right to know, “ continued Arlette, retaking her seat. “I have wanted to share this with you for such a long time. It is just talking about this, recalling all my memories makes me realise just how different our life could have been. How much happier you could have been.”
“But I am happy mother. You have always filled this house with love, and Sebastian and I have grown up not wanting for anything.”
“Thank you Gill. You and your uncle have been a constant support to me as well.” Arlette took a deep breath and Gill realised that she was about to tell him something that he may find difficult to hear, so he squeezed his mother’s hand and smiled at her. “Gill your father was a great, brave man and we were going to tell the king about us, and of my pregnancy the day he returned from a very important mission that the king had sent him on. Your father was to go to Chaval to offer parley in order that some of the land that Chaval had so brutally stolen from our neighbours could be returned to the refugees that were living in our city. We did not have enough food or homes for everyone, our resources were running low and the king needed to find a way to protect and feed these people. Our armies were not equipped to fight against Chaval’s, and the king was required in Avalon, so this was the city’s only chance of survival. Gill, your father never returned from Chaval. It is said that he was ambushed on his return. It is suspected that it was Chaval’s men but this has never been confirmed. His body and the body of the man that he traveled with were never found. The man that he traveled with Gill was Olivier.”
Gill’s tears fell and splashed on the table joining his mother’s in a pool of sorrow. Gill’s uncle who had been sitting next to the fire pretending to be asleep stood up and came to the table to hold his family. Gill noticed that he also had been crying. “I was only young Gill, b but from what I remember your father was an extraordinary man, a chivalrous man, a true knight. He and your mother were deeply in love, b but I believe he is still here Gill. I believe that he lives in you. Lives in the love that you give to your mother and me. Lives in your energy and your passion, and I believe, for him, you will come through this and make things right once more.”

Gill woke the following morning. His head ached from the tears he had wept the previous night. Many of his questions had been answered but the muscles in his forehead were still contracted from one last thing he needed to know. He got up carefully so as to not wake his mother or uncle; got dressed and tip-toed to the door. He had to see Olivier. He needed to find out exactly what had happened to his father. He made his way out of the city and back to the place he had ran from yesterday. The sky was grey and the clouds were thick and seemed to slowly roll across the horizon enveloping any last piece of colour that the sun had to offer. The weather had changed overnight, as had Gill’s life.
He sat down by his tree. There was still evidence of their meeting yesterday. The bracken where they had fallen had been flattened, and he could see broken branches where Olivier had appeared from the woods, “Olivier!” Gill shouted. “Olivier, where are you? I have more questions.”
Silence. Gill thought it may take some time to find him again, after all he did run away. Maybe Olivier felt that Gill would never want to see him again. Why couldn’t he have sat down and let Olivier explain himself properly, but Gill knew he would have to be patient, he couldn’t move on with his life until he had spoken with Olivier again. He could not just go back to the market stall and pretend as if nothing had changed: things had fundamentally shifted now.
The day was cold. Gill pulled his knees up to his chest and stretched his tunic over them to form a makeshift tent. He was tired, he hadn’t slept much and dawn had only just broken. As he sat, waiting for Olivier he slipped in and out of sleep, the nodding of his head waking him up at regular intervals. Suddenly a tap on the shoulder woke him, he didn’t know how long he had been a sleep but the darkness had fully lifted; although the tiredness in his bones hadn’t.
“Gill you came back. Thank god.” Gill opened his eyes to see Olivier crouching in front of him, still wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday. Still unkempt hair and long beard. “I wasn’t sure you would."
“I wasn’t sure I would either Olivier. I needed some time on my own. I needed to speak with my mother. I am sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry Gill," Olivier cut gill’s reply short, "there is no need. It is not your fault that any of this has happened. Did you speak to your mother? How is she?”
“She will be fine. I think. She had been waiting for the right time to tell me about my father and is probably quite thankful I now know.”
“Did you tell her you had seen me?” Their conversation was calm. Gill felt that the worse was over now.
“I did. And she explained who you were and how you had disappeared on the same day as my father. How you had left to offer parley to Chaval, but never returned.” Olivier stood and looked to the sky stroking his beard.
“Before you ask me any questions will you come with me to my home?” Gill’s instincts told him that he could trust this man, and he needed to find out about what had happened in Chaval.
“Of course,” replied Gill, taking Olivier’s outstretched hand allowing him to be pulled up.

Olivier led the way back through the thickets and copses from which he had appeared the previous day. In silence they walked. Deeper and deeper into the forest, until the canopy became so dense that the only sunlight was the occasional dappling against the thick oak trunks. They waded across streams and hacked through bracken until Gill could see in the distance a small clearing with a building in the centre. The clearing offered a blast of natural that had been scarce in the journey so far. It gave the smallholding a mystical glow as if lit in the density of the surroundings by a celestial being. As they approached Gill could start to make out details of the house. The walls were made from logs vertically lashed together, and the roof was thatched from a mixture of fern leaves and straw. It was a modest structure but it looked strong and great skill and time had obviously been taken in its construction. Olivier turned for the first time since they had left Gill’s special place and said with a proud expression as if introducing him to his first born, “Welcome to my home.”
To the right of the house Gill noticed Olivier had neatly planted vegetables. Beside the vegetables there was also an herb garden scenting the air with the sweet smell of mint and lemon. The plot reminded him of his uncle’s out the back of their house although this was far more established and there was a greater variety. The fruits of Olivier’s toil formed perfect lines all of varying heights and colours, some that Gill recognised from his uncle’s plot and some that he had never seen before. There was also a small plume of smoke rising from the chimney and a small window beside a door that marked the entrance. Olivier opened the door, “Please come in.”
“Thank you,” replied Gill, a little nervous as to what he was going to find inside. The interior was simple but orderly, which surprised Gill especially due to Olivier’s appearance. There was a bed in one corner covered with what looked to be the skin of a deer, and the only other furniture a small table and chair under the window, which Olivier must have fashioned from wood taken from the surrounding forest. A small pot hung over a fire that had carefully been positioned in the middle of room; the heat from which gave a welcome warmth from the cold day outside.
“Go in, Go in. Would you like a drink?” Olivier asked as he took the pot off the fire with two well-worn sticks.
“Yes, thank you,” replied Gill shuffling from foot to foot, still uneasy with his unfamiliar surroundings.
“Please sit.” said  Olivier pointing to the seat by the window. Gill sat down in the chair inquisitively looking around the house for clues as to how a man can survive in such a place for as long as he had. Gill felt a strange envy of Olivier’s situation. The freedom that Olivier had was what Gill craved for, but he also realised that it had come at a cost. Olivier removed his valise and placed it on his bed and then went back out of the door, leaving Gill to ponder more as to the benefits of this solitude. He returned carrying a hand full of leaves that he had picked from outside. Gill watched as he put the leaves into two clay cups that were beside the fire, and pour on hot water. Olivier placed the pot back, picked up the cups and gave one to Gill, “Now tell me Gill, what are your questions?”
Gill picked up his cup and looked in inquisitively. The flavour from the leaves was beginning to infuse: and the sweet smell reminded him of his mother. He held it in both hands so as to warm him, and blew the steam from the top. Gill didn’t know where to start, he looked through the window at the small area of sky framed by the tall trees that inhabited the forest and watched the seagulls circle overhead. These were the birds that had followed him throughout his life, as if a constant reminder of his desire for freedom.
“I have two things to ask,” said Gill eventually without taking his eyes from the birds.
“Anything Gill,” replied Olivier as he took his place on the corner of his bed looking intently and his best friend’s son.
“I want you to tell me how my father died.”
“And the second thing?”
“I want you to teach me how to be a knight.”