 “Bath nymphs?” Tristan asked as they wandered along in the direction of the castle. He did his best to stifle his laughter and contented himself with a broad grin instead. The prince was fairly willing to bet that any true story involving his grandfather and water nymphs would not be a tale suitable for children. Taking a deep breath and giving Grim’s hand a squeeze Tristan shook his head, “no,” he admitted, “he’s never told me about the bath nymphs.” I kind of wish he would though, he thought to himself with another ill-concealed smile. “You’ll have to fill me in,” Tristan told Grim as he unlocked the big wooden door in front of them using one of the keys which hung from his belt. The keys had been giving to him very recently by his father as a sign of trust and responsibility, but they were noticeably fewer in number than those Arthur carried. The door led into the armoury and Tristan put his armour onto the wooden torso-shaped stand which stood at the centre of the back wall. He put his helmet on its shelf before relieving Grim of her burden and placing the remaining pieces of equipment in the carved wooden trunk at his feet.
Celidon sniffed at the lid when his fairy closed it with a snap, brushing his head against Grim as he did so. The cu-sith glanced at the little girl out of the corner of his green eyes. She wasn’t very scary really; she actually seemed very nice...and she thought he was beautiful. His tail gave an enthusiastic wag at the thought...and then one of the young shepherd dogs grabbed hold of it and Cel was forced to tell him off with a warning growl. They were still learning their manners. Celidon nudged Grim’s hand with his nose to apologise in case he had scared her. It was the last thing he wanted to do. Tristan paused to give Caefall a stern look before holding out his hand to Grim again.
They left the armoury and proceeded along a dark corridor until they reached another wooden door. Tristan unlocked it and led the little girl out into the brighter space beyond. They emerged in an open space to the right of the grand staircase. The red carpet beneath their feet was rich and springy beneath their feet as Tristan guided grim in the direction of the steps. He hoped she’d be able to manager them with her limp and kept a close grip on her hand just in case. The red carpet continued down the upper landing, running down the middle of the corridor with polished brown floorboards on either side. As they walked along the dogs’ claws clicked against the hard surface as they followed after the two faeries. Celidon kept a close watch on the shepherd dogs. They had a habit of wandering off and knocking expensive things off tables.
When they reached Nimueh’s door Tristan knocked a little tune and waited. His grandmother’s voice called for him to enter, so he pushed open the door and let Grim, the familiars and the dogs go in first. Avalon, Nimueh’s hare familiar was lying on the rug by the fire in the middle of the room and he jumped to his feet when they approached. Tristan had never succeeded in convincing the hare that Celidon wasn’t going to eat him, but the familiar remained unconvinced. The Cu-Sith gave the hare a respectfully wide birth.
“Tristan!” Nimueh beamed, looking up at him with wide green eyes from her armchair. She pushed the fabric she had been sewing off her lap, putting it down on the sofa to her right and hurried over to drag him into a hug. “You’re taller and more handsome every time I see you!” she enthused, holding him at arm’s length to make a show of studying him. She glanced at her grandson’s familiar, “you too, Celidon.” He woofed.
“And who is this?” Nimueh asked as she turned to Grim and Gisli with a warm and welcoming smile. She crouched down to the little girl’s level, the turquoise fabric of her skirts gathering around her feet so that she appeared to be floating.
“This is Grimbuad,” Tristan explained with a smile of his own, “Mallos has been looking after her.” Nimueh put two and two together quickly. The little girl was thin, her clothes were old and ill-fitting and Tristan had made no mention of parents.
“Would you like to join us for something to eat, Grimbaud?” asked Nimueh, “and then maybe we could see about making you some new clothes?” Tristan gave Grim an encouraging nod.
“No one’s better at making clothes than Grandmother.”
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